A reminder for our upcoming session. The new year is underway and the Memory Witness and Hope team is gathering again after the winter break. There is work to continue and, by now, enough shared history to make the returning feel different from the beginning — more settled, more purposeful, with the kind of momentum that only comes from sustained effort over time.
What a session means
For any project, the regular meeting is partly administrative: checking in, reviewing progress, deciding what comes next. But for a project like MWH, the session is also something else. It is a consistent space where people who have lived through unusual and difficult histories can be present with others who understand that. Not every conversation has to explain itself from the beginning. Not every reference needs a footnote. There is a shared shorthand that has built up over months.
That kind of continuity matters. Institutions were, among other things, places where the continuity of personal relationships was frequently interrupted — transfers to different wards, new staff, changes in routine imposed without explanation. The regular rhythms of the MWH project — the same faces, the same space, the same work — are not incidental to what the project does. They are part of it.
Looking back at what the group has accomplished
By January 2020, the MWH team had covered substantial ground. In the autumn, the group had explored the concepts at the heart of the project: what it means to remember, to witness, to hope. Participants had taken up cameras and tablets, learned to frame a shot, practised being on both sides of an interview. They had worked through the meaning of ableism through collaborative photo collage. They had been visited by David McKillop, who had shared music and advice, and by Cindy Scott and Justin Clark, who had modelled what it looks like to speak publicly about institutional experience.
Robert Concordia and the team had completed the text for his illustrated story at the Ottawa Public Library. Marcel and Maurice had framed the Ontario government's apology to survivors. The group had gone into the community for a pop-up event, asking Ottawa self-advocates what matters most in life and capturing their answers on camera.
What remains
January marked a shift toward the final phases of the project. The documentary film was taking shape from the footage gathered over months of work. The illustrated story text was finished. Outreach to schools was underway. There was still work to do in reviewing footage, refining the film, and preparing materials for educational use.
The upcoming session would continue that work. Participants would return to the room carrying the experience of months of collaboration and the sense — concrete now, not just aspirational — that what they were making was real, would be seen, and would matter. That is not a small thing to walk into a room with.
The reminder to attend was, in that sense, not just logistical. It was an invitation to show up for something worth showing up for.