Recognizing Gaps in ‘Independent Research’: Why You Shouldn’t Listen to Michelle Stirling (or any other residential school denialists)
Michelle Stirling, our local residential school and genocide denialist, recently delivered an online lecture titled “Debunking Sean Carleton on Denialism. Refuting claims that scholarly review is any form of Indian Residential School Denialism” (sic). This was a response to a talk by Sean Carleton, Associate Professor of History at the University of Manitoba, titled “Understanding Residential School Denialism”, which was organized by the Lasqueti Island Residents Association Reconciliation Committee and qathet CARE. Stirling’s lecture, like her previous writings, presented what she refers to as a ‘counter-narrative’ that exonerates the residential school system and minimizes the harm caused to Indigenous children, while placing the main source of trauma and abuse on Indigenous parents. According to Stirling, the architects of the system and those who staffed the schools were well-intentioned, all parents sent their children voluntarily, intergenerational trauma is “nonsense”, and the claim of genocide is false.
Rather than offering a direct rebuttal to Carleton’s points, Stirling’s presentation was more of a lecture which promoted her personal interpretation of Canadian history. This narrative, which downplays the systemic violence and child abuse of residential schools, has gained traction among some conservative and white supremacist segments of Canadian society. Despite the appeal it has to those who feel reassured by the message, it is important to recognize that views like these are largely, if not completely disconnected from the histories of Indigenous peoples that is held within families and communities and the academic study of Indigenous history.
Sterling’s, like other denialists work, wholly dismisses the lived experiences and testimony of Indigenous peoples (except for appropriated stories) and the extensive body of archives, state and church documents, and scholarly work that documents the trauma and cultural destruction wrought by these institutions. Her central claim—that questioning the “genocide narrative” somehow facilitates healing —denies and exacerbates the very real harms experienced by residential school survivors and their families, and undermines efforts toward actual reconciliation.
Anecdotal Evidence is not Evidence.
The most striking issue with Stirling’s presentation, despite the fact that she calls her work “scholarly” is its lack of ethical responsibility. Instead of presenting a structured critique of Carleton’s arguments, she largely relies on anecdotes and carefully selected examples to support her claims. While anecdotes can add effect to a point, in this context she presents many while providing no critical analysis to serve and support her predetermined conclusions. These anecdotes often involve deeply personal and painful stories, none of which, presumably, were told with the consent of the individuals involved. Stirling’s recounting of these appropriated experiences is exploitative and unethical, as they, and the individual or family’s pain, were used to serve her ideological purposes rather than demonstrate the complexities of the experiences she shared. They also foment hate. Stirling’s tales attempt to paint Indigenous parents as inherently abusive.
The majority of Stirling’s anecdotes were stories about Indigenous parents, which she used to suggest that as a group were largely neglectful or abusive of their children. Her argument, which paints Indigenous families as unfit to care for children, reinforces harmful stereotypes that have long been used to justify the residential school system and the broader colonial project including the ‘60s scoop and the child welfare system. This framing is not only historically inaccurate, it is racially charged, as it implies that Indigenous parents were inherently different from their white counterparts. White parents were not subjected to the same levels of state-sponsored medical and child welfare interventions that separated Indigenous children from their parents. Sterling argues that Indigenous parents are naturally bad at raising children and ignores the fact that the parents’ own experiences at residential school may play into the generational trauma she so freely describes - and denies in the same breath.
The presentation of these anecdotes is also an attempt to create a narrative in which the residential schools were benevolent institutions, staffed by well-meaning individuals who were simply trying to help the poor and neglected children, while providing a “babysitting service”. While it is true that many staff and other individuals involved in the institutions may have had good intentions, this narrative plainly ignores the broader systemic violence of the system as a whole. The policies that underpinned the residential schools were designed to assimilate, control, and erase Indigenous cultures. This violence cannot be dismissed by framing the individual actions of educators and administrators as uniformly well-meaning.
The framing of Indigenous parents as abusive was a major contributor to harmful policies such as birth alerts, removal at birth and forced sterilization. While these practices are less common now than they were historically, continuing to promote this idea could be viewed as to incite hate towards Indigenous women today. Indigenous women statistically face a high rate of violence; MMIWG has been declared a genocide under international law.
Apologism for systems that persecuted people based on race who were not guilty of abuse while protecting abusers of the dominant group creates a racist narrative of Indigenous bad, white good- no matter how bad they were. This message foments hate towards Indigenous parents, women in particular, as abusers while exonerating a system that allowed pedophiles to situate themselves in institutions where they had direct access to extremely vulnerable children.
Unsubstantiated Claims and Misleading Assumptions
Another critical issue with Stirling’s argumentation is her reliance on her own assumptions, and misleading claims. For instance, when asked during the Q&A portion of her lecture whether she would send her own 7-year old child to a residential school, she responded that she would, as she wouldn’t want to take her child “hunting and trapping”. When asked if she knew anything about hunting and trapping, she admitted she did not. Stirling’s willingness to make such confident assumptions about the lives of Indigenous families, despite a lack of understanding or firsthand experience, is a clear example of how her work fails to engage with the historical and social realities of Indigenous communities both one hundred years ago or today.
Stirling interprets the Pope’s acknowledgment of genocide after meeting with survivors and their family members was the result of pressure and leading from journalists. She portrays the leader of the Catholic Church as a victim of harassment, and that he only said it to be left alone. This assertion lacks empirical support. There is no evidence of this, it is merely another supposition - and is an attempt to discredit the Pope’s public recognition of the harms caused by the residential schools and that the schools were, in his view, genocidal.
Stirling also dismisses the overwhelming evidence of the compulsory nature of residential school attendance. She, and others, argue that no Indigenous children were ever forced to attend, despite the fact that The Indian Act was amended in 1920 to mandate attendance for all Indigenous children in the country. This amendment was introduced in response to the alarmingly low attendance rates at residential schools, which were paralleled by high mortality rates due to a combination of disease, poor living conditions, malnutrition, and neglect. Stirling’s failure to address this critical aspect of history undermines the credibility of her argument. Indeed, parents did apply to get their children into schools - it was the law.
The Limits of Sterling’s ‘Research’
Stirling’s lack of academic training is obvious and significantly limits her work. According to her LinkedIn profile, she holds a Certificate in Career Development from an online university and has no academic credentials. While she claims to be a journalist, there is little evidence of any training in journalism or a formal journalistic career, and her ‘research’ experience seems to be limited to a historical television project in the 1980s which did not air. Her repeated references to Dr. Hugh Dempsey being her “supervisor” at the Glenbow Museum almost 40 years ago are misleading. Dempsey was a curator and archive manager, assisting members of the public with research in the museum’s collections. Yes, he supervised members of the public who came to do research in the archives, including people researching for television - he was not her academic supervisor.
This lack of formal academic training and research experience calls into question the ethics and rigour of Stirling’s work. While it is certainly possible to conduct valuable research outside of academia, the absence of consultation with Indigenous communities, peer review, and engagement with established scholarship weakens her, and other denialists credibility - including those who are professors, lawyers, and politicians as all of their work is completely devoid of this critical ingredient. Research on any marginalized group, especially when it focuses so intently on sensitive topics, requires rigorous methodological and ethical standards to avoid doing harm. Sterling’s work does not meet these standards.
Ethical Concerns in Research: The Importance of Indigenous Perspectives
Research on Indigenous history and experiences, particularly with respect to painful topics, demand a high level of ethical sensitivity. Ethical research practices include acquiring consent at the minimum, working collaboratively with the communities being studied, centering Indigenous voices, and approaching the subject matter with respect and care. Stirling’s approach, by contrast, is conducted without consultation or collaboration with Indigenous peoples or communities and ignores the rich body of Indigenous scholarship on the subject. This lack of engagement with Indigenous perspectives is a serious issue, as the experiences of Indigenous peoples themselves are the most authoritative source of knowledge on the topic. Despite the Truth and Reconciliation Commission’s extensive catalogue of survivor interviews, Sterling refuses to draw upon these survivor testimony and boldly, wrongly, asserts that those who share their stories are liars.
Indigenous research methods have evolved significantly over the past few decades. Contemporary scholars, Indigenous scholars in particular, emphasize ethical practices, collaboration, and sensitivity to the historical and ongoing impacts of colonialism. Stirling’s work, by failing to engage with these ethical standards, perpetuates an outdated and colonial approach to research that dehumanizes Indigenous peoples as subjects to be studied and objectified rather than partners in the research process. Her approach reinforces a pattern of extractive, exploitative, and racist methods that have been a hallmark of anthropological research for hundreds of years.
The Consequences of Denialism
Stirling’s work is part of a broader trend of residential school denialism, which seeks to downplay or dismiss the trauma experienced by Indigenous children and families. This form of denialism not only discredits the experiences of survivors but also perpetuates harmful racial stereotypes about Indigenous peoples. By framing Indigenous peoples as liars and abusers, Stirling contributes to a culture of white supremacy and anti-Indigenous racism that further entrenches the marginalization of Indigenous communities and may contribute to violence against women.
The impact of this sort of writing and media is not merely ideological and theoretical, it has real-world consequences. Denialist rhetoric contributes to a climate of hostility and suspicion toward Indigenous peoples and their histories, resulting in increased harassment and violence. It supports a broader narrative that seeks to absolve settler colonialism of its responsibility for historic oppression and human rights violations, and validates the marginalization of Indigenous peoples today.
Conclusion: The Dangers of ‘Independent Research’ Without Accountability
In conclusion, Michelle Stirling’s ‘independent research’ on residential schools is deeply flawed both methodologically and ethically. Her work lacks in any semblance of Indigenous research methods, consideration of Indigenous perspectives, and has no academic rigour, oversight, or historical accuracy and balance that could make it credible. Her perspective is part of a broader conservative and white Christian nationalist trend of denialism that actively undermines efforts toward reconciliation efforts by dismissing the lived experience of survivors and their families. It also foments mistrust and hatred towards a racialized minority group by creating false narratives and perpetuating harmful stereotypes.
While independent research can contribute valuable insights and individuals have every right to freedom of speech, research on marginalized groups must be conducted responsibly and ethically as to avoid harming communities and individuals and inciting hate. Stirling’s work demonstrates the dangers of research conducted without proper training, consultation, or adherence to ethical standards. If we are to engage with the history of residential schools in a meaningful way, we must act with respect, center Indigenous voices, consult established scholarship and Indigenous scholarship in particular, and approach the subject matter with the care it deserves. Stirling’s work and the work of other denialists fails on all of these counts and should not be taken as a legitimate contribution to the ongoing conversation about Canada’s colonial history.