In my last column I spoke of what brought me to the work I am doing today. I promised to follow this up with more on the Jewish-First Nations bond.

Full disclosure, I work for a gitte neshamah (a good soul), Michael Dan. He is a neurosurgeon, philanthropist, and First Nations advocate. In 2002, he created the Paloma Foundation that I now help run, which has donated more than $8 million to charities in the Toronto area (with a special emphasis on health, education and homelessness). 

Through his support of the University of Haifa and the Michael and Amira Dan Professorship in Global Health at the University of Toronto, he has helped to build Jewish-Palestinian dialogue and tolerance in Canada and around the world. 

Along with all these accomplishments, today his work is focused on indigenous health. In 2014, Michael donated $10 million to U of T to create the first privately endowed institute for indigenous health research in the world at the Dalla Lana School of Public Health. I wish he didn’t have to do so, but with the recent slashing of Aboriginal health research budgets, we desperately needed a privately endowed research facility that will never be beholden to the whims of any federal government.

On March 23, the Institute for Indigenous Health had an Aboriginal “naming ceremony.” Present were First Nations, Metis and Inuit chiefs, thought leaders, academics, physicians, nurses and many others to whom indigenous health has a special meaning. Greetings came from former prime minister Paul Martin, whose own work funding Aboriginal education has become legendary. We heard from Ontario’s Aboriginal Affairs Minister David Zimmer and probably the single most recognized and respected First Nations leader in the country, former national chief of the Assembly of First Nations, Phil Fontaine.

It was a memorable evening, led by Anishnabe elder Fred Kelly and midewin (medicine man) Kalvin Ottertail and his wife Margaret. We also heard from representatives of the Metis and Inuit communities. Drumming, a smudging ceremony and First Nations circle dances all came together in a powerful evening to create the Waakebiness-Bryce Institute for Indigenous Health. 

Waakebiness is Anisshinaabemowin for “radiant thunderbird” and was the name bestowed upon Dan by Ottertail, who is a member of the Lac Lacroix First Nations.

The Bryce Institute pays tribute to Dr. Peter Henderson Bryce, who served as chief medical officer of health for the Department of Indian Affairs in the early part of the 20th century. It was Bryce who uncovered and publicly reported the horrendous facts pertaining to the deaths of thousands of young First Nations children in residential schools from tuberculosis. 

Sadly, Bryce failed to convince the government of the day to take simple measures from better ventilation of schools to more sufficient nutrition to bring down the numbers of deaths. When the government refused to act, Bryce went public with his findings and published The Story of a National Crime: Being a Record of the Health Conditions of the Indians of Canada from 1904 to 1921.

Said Dan of this honour: “I’m tremendously proud that this Institute will pay tribute to my indigenous friends while recognizing Dr. Peter Bryce’s courageous attempt at saving indigenous children from the ravages of tuberculosis.” 

And I was proud to be part of such a significant ceremony, standing shoulder to shoulder with many members of the Jewish community, including my friend Len Rudner, representing the Centre for Israel and Jewish Affairs.

It was not a surprise to me that Jews and First Nations stood together that evening. Indeed, Kelly, Fontaine and I met more than 10 years ago, when as CEO of Canadian Jewish Congress and along with then-president of CJC Ed Morgan, I led a contingent of First Nations leaders to Israel. That trip solidified a friendship that years later helped inaugurate an initiative funded by a Jewish philanthropist that will immeasurably help First Nations people to better health.