Photo: Tony Webster / Wikimedia Commons, CC BY 2.0

On September 21, mothers, adoptees, families, and supporters will gather at the Centennial Flame on Parliament Hill for the Silent No More National Day of Action, calling on Canada for a formal federal apology for its past forced adoption practices.

I wish I could be standing there with them.

I can’t be there in person because September 20–21 is Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, the holiest day of the Jewish year. It is a day of reflection, truth, forgiveness, and acknowledging what has been done wrong.

The timing is not lost on me.

While I will be observing Yom Kippur, survivors will be standing in Ottawa asking Canada to do something that should have been done long ago:

Acknowledge the truth. Take responsibility. Apologize.

There is something especially meaningful to me about this happening on the Day of Atonement.

For decades, mothers and their children have lived with the consequences of forced adoption practices, secrecy, shame, and stories that were never fully told. Too many mothers passed away without ever hearing the words they deserved to hear:

We are sorry. What happened to you was wrong.

I know what it feels like to discover that the story you were given about your own beginning was not the truth.

I know what it is like to search for answers and uncover things that had been hidden for decades.

And I know that telling the truth cannot undo what happened.

But it matters.

Being heard matters.

Acknowledgment matters.

And an apology matters.

Canada has an opportunity to do the right thing.

To listen.

To acknowledge.

To apologize.

And to make sure these stories are never pushed back into silence again.

Although I can’t be there in person, I am deeply honored that part of my story, along with a photograph of my mother, Donna, may be shared during the ceremony.

Silent No More

Why September 21 Holds Special Meaning for Me

September 21, 2026

My mother, Donna

I also want to personally thank Christine Weir Nayler for believing me, for listening to my story, and for helping make sure voices like mine are heard.

That means more to me than I can put into words.

On September 21, I may be in a different place, but my heart will be with everyone standing at the Centennial Flame.

For me, there is something profound about spending the Day of Atonement reflecting on truth and accountability while, at the same time, survivors are asking a country to face its own past.

Some wrongs cannot be undone.

But they can be acknowledged.

The truth can be spoken.

And the people who lived it can finally be heard.

It is time, Canada.

Silent no more.