Like a skilled craftsman, Elder Pascal Adam is deeply familiar with the tools of his trade. His trade, of course, is helping others. His tools are loyalty, humour, wisdom, integrity, and openness, to name a few. He’s honed them through the years, working at recovery centres, at churches (as a preacher and a church planter), and, of course, in prisons.

Some tools Elder Pascal has always had. Others he’s picked up along the way. Of these, his openness is notable. It’s a key part of what makes Elder Pascal so good at helping others. By being open about his own life, Elder Pascal lays a foundation of trust and acceptance for the people he meets with. 

“I try to give [people] freedom to open up and tell me their history, as well as maybe opening up about why they came in. I find that helps way more than saying, ‘I don’t want to hear about what happened then. That’s way in the past. Why is it bothering you?’”

Being open about pain and trauma isn’t easy, yet for Elder Pascal, it’s been beneficial in his own experiences with addiction. “I had a lot of anger issues, as well, so people kind of avoided me. Partially because I carried that chip on my shoulder,” he said. “I needed to talk about the pain that I faced because of the residential school and abandonment.”

“One of the boys carved a talking stick,” Elder Pascal recalled. “It’s a bear and a turtle. He dubbed me Older Brother Bear Who Tells His Story. Because I was totally open and sharing with the guys there, he decided that was a good name for me.”

The gift and name were significant to Elder Pascal. He received them at Stave Lake Correctional Centre in the early days of volunteering in prisons. He was still in the process of finding peace between his culture and his faith in Jesus Christ. For Elder Pascal, this separation originated at residential school. After he became a believer, he felt pressure from some to distance himself from his Indigenous culture. Yet at Stave Lake, he knew he had something to offer.

“I was still struggling with my own culture and my own identity but by the same token I noticed that a lot of the people out there that were First Nations were really open to talking to me. And I started to realize, wow, that’s a place where they need somebody.”

Elder Pascal is Secwepemc from the Stswecem’c Xgat’tem First Nation. As a boy he was taken from his home at Canoe Creek, 85 kilometres southwest of Williams Lake, to the Kamloops Indian Residential School. He left the school at the age of 11, an alcoholic. He is a Survivor.

“They cut our hair funny. They tried to dress us the same. They started to tell us that worshipping in our Native ways, playing our drums and all of that, was not acceptable. Some of us got strapped for speaking our language. There was a lot of us that spoke our language and we tried to do it slyly. But if they came by and happened to hear us, they would take us and discipline us for doing that. They really made an effort to say, ‘Your culture is no good here.’”

Later, after he became a Christian, Elder Pascal attended Bible school in the 1980s and encountered more resistance to his culture.

“They were almost doing the same thing that the Catholics were doing.” He said. “They weren’t trying to beat it out of us, but they made comments to say we were supposed to leave that stuff behind.

They didn’t try to tell other cultures they had to change, but for some reason or another, our drumming, our way of worship, all the stuff we did as Native people wasn’t acceptable at the school. So for many years, as a Christian I started to believe that I really wasn’t a Native person anymore.”

A Turning Point

Things changed when Elder Pascal attended a conference where Broken Walls, a gospel band from Ontario, was playing. During the concert he saw Indigenous culture in a new light.

“They were doing the White thing—they all had guitars, bass guitars, drums, and everything. And they were just doing music on the stage. They were singing a Christian song and they unveiled this big pow wow drum and the four band members took their drum beaters and they sat around this drum and they were chanting the same song.

“For me, it was almost like I was lifted off the ground and I went all the way to the front and I’m standing there, and I’m like, whoa, this is what I need. These guys basically showed me that it was okay to be a Native person and a Christian as well. They were doing Christian music and they were drumming to the same song.”

Answers in a Story

Early last year, before the pandemic, Elder Pascal met with an Indigenous man in prison who had accepted faith in Jesus Christ. The man told Pascal that he was confused. He said he didn’t know how to be a Native who is supposed to worship the Creator and also be a Christian.

“He didn’t know how he could walk both paths at the same time,” Pascal said.

Elder Pascal shared about the separation from his culture he experienced as a young man, and how he learned to embrace both his faith and cultural identity. “I tried to get him to keep an open mind about how he could do both and still honour Jesus.”

The same mindset carries over to all of Elder Pascal’s relationships: “Muslim, Sikh, Buddhist, I don’t discourage anybody. I say, ‘Do what you are doing, but remember to ask questions. Ask about Jesus Christ.’”

August 28, 2021—Elder Pascal and his wife, Herta, share a laugh during the ceremony to honour Pascal as Elder. The money pinned to Pascal’s blanket is a symbol of his active work in the community.

Called to Serve

For Elder Pascal, being a mentor to those affected by incarceration is more than a job; it’s a calling. He stays in touch with most of the men he’s mentored through the years, and even visits them when he’s travelling through the province on vacation.

Elder Pascal recognizes the support and strength he receives from his wife, Herta. “There are times when I’ll jump in a vehicle and leave for two or three hours. She doesn’t question where I’m going. She knows my guys must need me.”

The couple has been married for over 26 years. “It’s been a blessing,” Elder Pascal said. “I feel that I’ve met the person that’s walking beside me pretty much in everything I do.”

Herta often accompanies Elder Pascal to the institutions, and her presence and commitment provide an example to volunteers and people in prison. “If a couple says we want to come in and join M2/W2, then I want them to come as a team,” Elder Pascal said. “Most of our guys in the system—and women—don’t know how to keep a relationship for a long time. Many of them have been in broken relationships. Sometimes they were dragged out of the home into a foster home. I try to help them understand that it is possible to have a long-term relationship.”

Elder Pascal is successful as a mentor because he is committed to his guys. He is consistent: They know he will be there. They know he will treat them with honesty.

“The biggest thing for me is having a true friendship with my guys,” Elder Pascal said. “The only way I’d disown them is if I pass away and they dig a hole and put me in it. Other than that, I’m there with them.”

After serving in prisons for over 27 years, Elder Pascal has a long list of his guys. One thing these relationships have in common is that they are based on honesty and trust. “They can open their book right in front of me, and they know that it remains here.” Elder Pascal said. “They have the freedom to disclose everything that’s in their history to help them change to be a better person.”

This story originally appears in our Fall 2021 newsletter.