Never one to ignore an opportunity to throw his weight around, Trump is threatening to use economic violence to force Canada into US statehood. Likewise, for some unknown reason he wants to annex Greenland (governed by Denmark) and the Panama Canal. And just for fun, he wants to rename the Gulf of Mexico as the Gulf of America, because, he says, “it’s ours anyway.”

Oh yes, he’s also a convicted felon who didn’t have to serve time or even pay a fine for his crimes. Must be nice to talk about justice and illegal immigrants, most of whom he falsely claims are “criminals” who want to eat your pets.

Despite all these hallucinations, we should look at Trump’s relationship with Native Americans to see how we may be impacted.

Trump’s first term gives us an idea of how things could play out. You may remember the Indigenous-led movement at Standing Rock against the Dakota Access Pipeline project. The Sioux won a delay on that one with the help of the US Army Corps of Engineers. But on his fourth day in office, January 24, 2017, Trump overturned that decision with an executive order and fast-tracked the pipeline construction.

Former President Barack Obama had created an annual White House Tribal Nations Conference. However, this eight-year-old event was given a death blow during Trump’s first reign. Leading positions in the Department of the Interior and the Bureau of Indian Affairs were never vetted by the US Senate or left empty.

More telling were his policy directives that reduced environmental protections in the US. Especially weakened were the Clean Water Act (think boil-water advisories in Canada), the National Environmental Policy Act and the Endangered Species Act. These laws and others were used to give a voice to local tribes on large-scale projects and traditional lands.

Agencies such as the US Fish and Wildlife Service joined the host of agencies fast-tracking projects left and right. Trump also opened the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge for oil and gas leasing despite heavy opposition from Alaska Native tribes and the Gwich’n Steering Committee.

Then there’s Trump and Covid. While at first denying it was real, and then offering the worst medical advice ever since people were told cigarettes were good for them, Tribal Nations were not included in the first Covid relief package. Later, money was allocated to assist in vaccinating US tribes, but it would be months before any concrete measures were delivered even as thousands were dying.

Nothing rang truer than when Tom Udall, a former Vice-chair of the Senate Committee on Indian Affairs, said, “The truth is the White House is actively undermining Tribal sovereignty across the country….”

We know there are Trump supporters in the Cree communities. Please take the time to search the web and look at how Trump deals with First Nations. Then ask yourself: the 51st what? Can we afford to support becoming the newest state (and by far the largest – meaning with very little political representation)?

We have everything to lose. There is more to work on, but with Trump lording over us we would be taking 10 steps back for each half step forward.

Others boycotted the conference because of host country Azerbaijan’s rampant human rights abuses, particularly its ethnic cleansing of Armenians from Nagorno-Karabakh last year. Papua New Guinea called the conference “a total waste of time.” Meanwhile, Azerbaijan appointed Elnur Soltanov, the head of its state energy company Socar, as its chief executive to the conference. Soltanov appeared to use the occasion as a forum to cut deals with international petroleum corporations. 

Nonetheless, there were still over 65,000 registered delegates – making it the second largest in COP’s history. One of those delegates was Chief Wesley Sam from BC’s Ts’il Kaz Koh Nation.

The Nation reached Chief Sam during his first “conference of parties” (COP) in Baku, Azerbaijan, after a journey he said took four flights. As chairperson of K’uul Power, a First Nations-led organization pursuing the development of renewable energy projects, he is negotiating with BC Hydro to own a transmission line cutting through several Indigenous territories.

“I’m just coming from an event with beautiful wind, solar, earth-based projects and carbon-capture systems,” Sam told the Nation. “First Nations are an absolute key to the success in green energy projects. It’s time to heal.”

Sam is optimistic that green energy solutions will power the future. “Our youth are getting very engaged – we call them K’uul kids,” he enthused. “I’d like to bring my youth to the next one so they can start ground-pounding like I am.”

Climate change has ravaged his region with forest fires, disappearing salmon stocks and a devastating pine beetle epidemic. At COP29, Sam noted that Indigenous peoples worldwide are facing similar issues yet doing what they can locally to make a difference.

“This shows we’re not alone in this fight,” Sam asserted. “It’s us that have to clean it up. What will come out of this is worth the time and energy. There’s a chance we can help steer the ship.”

He joined the First Nations Climate Initiative (FNCI) delegation in Baku to showcase Indigenous partnerships in zero-emission and low-carbon energy projects. FNCI is pitching liquefied natural gas (LNG) as a potential emissions solution for Asian steel and shipping industries.

However, critics like LNG senior strategist John Young from Climate Action Network have stated LNG has 33% more emissions than coal when shipping, production and methane leaks are considered. FNCI maintains that its responsible production and monitoring process can contribute to decarbonization and Indigenous economic self-determination.

After the last summit’s historic pledge to transition away from fossil fuels, oil giants like Saudi Arabia have attempted to sidestep commitments, alleging they were “an option” rather than a goal. The major focus at COP29 was climate finance, with demands that rich countries to help poor countries pay for their fossil fuel transition and cope with climate change repercussions.

As talks entered their final days, hopes for confirming the $1 trillion annually demanded by developing countries were diminishing. Indigenous voices at COP29 were vastly outnumbered by fossil fuel lobbyists. But they were adamant be heard, asserting they look after 80% of the world’s remaining biodiversity but receive less than 1% of global climate finance.

“Sea level rise is eating us up,” said Flora Vano from the South Pacific island state of Vanuatu. “It threatens our food security, contaminates our water source, infrastructure is destroyed and the increase in gender-based violence goes sky high.” 

Many Indigenous peoples are alarmed by the prospect of carbon credit trading without adequate safeguards and transparency, as these projects have already resulted in land grabs and rights violations. While some leaders suggested these initiatives have potential to support First Nations communities, they affirmed their fundamental rights must be paramount. 

Indigenous delegates like Panama’s Giuseppe Olo Villalaz believed this conference was an opportunity to prepare for next year’s climate gathering in the Brazilian Amazon where more decisive commitments are expected.

At COP29, Indigenous leaders from Brazil, Australia and the Pacific joined forces to demand shared leadership of future climate talks. Meanwhile, in Rio de Janeiro where the G20 meeting was taking place, Brazil’s Indigenous movement launched a campaign called “The Answer Is Us” and demanded official co-presidency at COP30.

Advance run-off polling was held in Cree communities November 21 with travelling polls November 25 at traditional camps near communities along with Eleanore Mine, Osisko (Windfall), KM 381 of the Billy Diamond Highway, Troilus Mining Camps and Quebec City’s embassy office. 

Among the 2,578 ballots received November 12, Wapachee received 902 votes (35%), while Pelletier had 705 (27.3%). Not advancing to the second round are George Diamond (18.2%), Emma Virginia Wabano (10.7%) and Sherry Ann Spencer (8.7%). 

While the final list of candidates was released October 23, the Nation had already gone to print featuring interviews with only Wapachee and Diamond, being unaware of others who intended to run. The candidates were discouraged from campaigning prior to this release, though this is not required under election bylaws. Some suggested an inherent conflict of interest because Returning Officer John Henry Wapachee is the brother of the incumbent chairperson, although no election discrepancies were observed.

“It seems like there are no rules even though I was trying to follow them,” said Pelletier. “I was even told I couldn’t go to the local radio stations because we have to be fair to all the others and they hadn’t submitted their recordings.”

Pelletier’s candidacy came from the same desire to help her people when she went south in 1989 at age 17 to pursue a career as an emergency nurse, getting an initial posting at Montreal’s Royal Victoria Hospital.

“But it’s not easy going back to your community working in ‘emerg’,” Pelletier noted. “The people you face are close family members; it’s not the same as people you don’t know. For two years I did that and felt it was hard. It took a toll on my family too.”

Pivoting to prevention and primary care, Pelletier began a nursing degree at the University of Ottawa. While in the city, she worked six weeks in outreach nursing at the Wabano Centre for Aboriginal Health, which offered sharing circles and innovative approaches to Indigenous healing. 

Stepping into a management role after 14 years in community health, Pelletier advocated for reintroducing Cree midwifery in Chisasibi. She became the director of Chisasibi’s Community Miyupimaatisiiun Centre (CMC) and introduced the team-based Nisk model of care after researching solutions for more positive working environments.

“I went to the Southcentral Foundation in Alaska and was sold,” Pelletier recalled. “It was like being at Woodstock – that’s how we started the pilot project with 300 clients and the results were staggering. After a few visits, people really improved.”

With people tired of repeating their story to a revolving parade of doctors and nurses, the Nisk model gives more access to family doctors with one phone number to call or text questions to. Given a “blank canvas” to transform the family centre, Pelletier worked with architects and healthcare providers to develop a more responsive approach.

“You know the open concept of a teepee?” asked Pelletier. “The communication is open; everybody shares the responsibility and they get to know each other at a different level. The name of the training is Nitutaamh, Cree for ‘all my relations,’ meaning we’re all here for a common purpose.”

If elected, Pelletier hopes to expand this primary care availability throughout Eeyou Istchee, listening to community needs and inspiring change within the system. She wants to improve accessibility to health services, decentralizing resources and simplifying navigation for people seeking specific care.

“The main reason why I ran was to promote transparency,” Pelletier asserted. “We need to create spaces where community members can observe Board of Directors meetings. We’ve grown so fast and so big, people don’t actually know what we offer.”

Further studies at McGill University and UQAT influenced her understanding of human resources, which she believes should encourage a healthier work-life balance. To staff the many facilities under construction, she believes concepts such as a four-day work week would help draw younger people to healthcare careers.

Pelletier recently led an initiative on youth violence, working to understand and address hardships experienced in communities today. She supports expanded land-based healing with services at family cabins as one way of confronting residential school trauma.

“We have to appreciate the distinctness of our worldview and traditions,” said Pelletier. “There’s a part of our processes we still need to Indigenize. There’s a lot of focus on Montreal but they need to come back to the community, where the needs are.”

The three pillars of her campaign platform are “reclaiming our path, restoring our health and rewriting our story.” Priorities include “operationalizing sacred teachings” as guiding principles for the board, integrating Cree cultural advisors and ensuring orientation training features Eeyou/Eenou customs and worldview.

With 28 years of experience at the health board and her community’s council, Pelletier suggested that her wide network would help grassroots voices transform the organization. She’s a big supporter of traditional healers, believing the growing Nishiiyuu department can offer alternative medicines unavailable in CMCs. 

“Our most important resource are the people, not the buildings,” Pelletier argued in support of her efforts to improve working conditions and staff retention. 

“I hope people start to understand how they have power over their health,” said Pelletier. “Considering inequalities that exist, I hope to close this gap to achieve Miyupimaatisiiun and demystify this concept.”

“The federal Indian boarding school policy and the pain it has caused will always be a significant mark of shame, a blot, on American history,” said Biden. “It is horribly, horribly wrong. It’s a sin on our soul.” 

Biden then thanked Secretary of the Interior Deb Haaland, America’s first Indigenous cabinet member. Her years of work toward this apology were in part motivated by the recent discovery of unmarked graves at a former residential school in Kamloops, BC. 

The following day, on October 26, Rear Admiral Mark Sucato of the United States Navy, presented an apology to the Tlingit people of southeast Alaska for the 1882 bombardment of the village of Angoon. 

According to the oral and written histories of the Tlingit peoples, the US government claimed that Tlingit fishermen were holding a white whaling crew hostage on a fishing vessel, demanding 200 blankets in compensation from the whaling company for the accidental death of their shaman Tith Klane in an explosion onboard the vessel. The whaling company refused their demand and called on federal support for a naval intervention. Government authorities felt the Tlingit weren’t owed anything and in turn, fined them 400 blankets for the supposed insurrection, and ordered them to return to work. 

Historical accounts state that the Tlingit struggled to come up with the 400 blankets they needed to keep warm during harsh winter months on the Admiralty coast. They delivered only 81, which prompted the US Navy to attack. Six children lost their lives in the initial shelling. Once the shelling destroyed the village, sailors landed and burned what was left of the clan houses, food caches and canoes. As a result, an unknown number perished of starvation and exposure. 

According to Rosita Worl, president of the Sealaska Heritage Institute, living conditions got so dire that village Elders “walked into the forest” – meaning they chose death, so that remaining supplies could sustain younger survivors. Tlingit historical accounts maintain that the boat’s crew likely remained with the vessel out of respect for their dead leader. The descendants of those who perished in the atrocity maintain that the Tlingit would have never demanded compensation so soon after their leader’s death. 

“The United States Navy recognizes the pain and suffering inflicted upon the Tlingit people, and we acknowledge these wrongful actions resulted in the loss of life, the loss of resources, the loss of culture, and created and inflicted intergenerational trauma on these clans” he said, in a live-streamed ceremony from Angoon. “The Navy takes the significance of this action very, very seriously and knows an apology is long overdue,” said Rear Admiral Sucato.

Tlingit leaders were apparently stunned when they learned of the proposed apology during an online conference. Elder Eunice James of Juneau, a descendant of Tith Klane, said she hopes the apology helps her family and the entire community heal. 

That October day in the gym of the Angoon High School, clan Elders spoke, led by Deisheetan leader Dan Johnson Jr. “None of us in this room will ever forget,” he said. “We will take it to our graves, we will teach it to our children. For our house we accept the apology that you have provided.” 

Then he added, “You can imagine the generations of people that have died since 1882, who have wondered what had happened, why it happened, and wanted an apology of some sort, because in our minds we didn’t do anything wrong” 

After a compensation settlement of $90,000 from the Department of the Interior in 1973, Angoon has held an annual memorial for the children killed during the bombardment. Every year leaders ask those in attendance if anyone from the US Navy has apologized. Angoon school teacher Shgendootan George, who grew up with this story, has taught students about the destruction of the village. His efforts were a principal part of the commemoration.

The Navy issued an apology a month earlier for the bombardment and burning of the southeast community of Kake in January 1869. It is expected they will do the same for the neighbouring community of Wrangell. The attacks were deadly escalations of a series of conflicts between the US military and Alaskan Natives in the years after the US purchased the territory from Russia in 1867 for $7.2 million.

It is that time of year when we mark Remembrance Day. Being among those who have served our country, I have taken this day to heart over the years. But every time I wear the poppy, I think of late Montreal playwright David Fennario, who started the white poppy movement. 

Fennario would point to the Cenotaph and other war memorials to explain how commemorative plaques have become smaller and smaller because there is little space left for new ones. He spoke about our soldiers’ valour, and of how we glorify war and its martyrs without a thought for the carnage it leaves to future generations. He described the women working in Canadian munitions factories, a large percentage of whom would later become fatally ill from chemical exposure. He explained how soldiers returning home would pass on their trauma to the generations that followed. 

“How do you restore a human being? How do you restore a family? How do you restore a community who have been the target of annihilation?” asked Barbara Cadiente-Nelson, an Angoon teacher who maintained the memorial practice of the Tlingit people’s history. 

Phil Fontaine, the former National Chief of the Assembly of First Nations, was one of the first to publicly decribe the abuse he experienced at the Fort Alexander Residential School in Manitoba. Fontaine maintains that Canada has had a “tremendous influence” on the American effort to face their own parallel history. 

Fontaine said the US should launch its own Truth and Reconciliation Commission. Currently, there is a legislation before the US Congress to would establish such a commission. Deb Haaland has been working towards a “Truth and Healing Commission” that would document the history of boarding schools and spearhead government action.

During Remembrance Day commemorations, let us remember the Canadian war effort and the Indigenous veterans who served. More importantly, celebrate the efforts of Indigenous leaders and communities to foster life after war. 

Due to some miscommunication and timing differences between our publication schedule and election announcements, The Nation was initially only aware of the two male candidates. We intend to add to this story as we receive responses from the other three candidates and apologize for this inconvenience.

George L. Diamond

With the Cree Health Board since 2000, Diamond is currently working in violence prevention after previously managing an injury prevention program and spending 14 years with the CBHSSJB employees’ union. 

“It’s all about the prevention of diseases and the promotion of healthy lifestyles,” said Diamond. “It seems prevention education happens when we have an unfortunate incident. I would like to see more consistency with a special emphasis on educating the youth. I don’t know if we have a health class in our schools, but we should.”

Diamond insists that we should never normalize violence, emphasizing to our children that it’s unacceptable. “Violence is a learned behaviour – we have the ability to unlearn it,” Diamond said, adding that communities have the resources to address this behaviour.

Diamond advocates creating safer communities and empowering local health units, transforming them into community educators. He said an epidemic of mental illness is increasingly impacting younger people, thus the importance of suicide-prevention measures.

“I want to see young people go on land-based programming, a good place to heal yourself away from all the distractions in our communities,” said Diamond. “I’m a firm believer in our traditional medicines. It shouldn’t be second to western medicine – in some cases it’s better.”

Diamond said more opportunity should be given to Cree traditional healers, asserting the right to freedom of religion. He wants more health services in communities and to address the “systemic discrimination” of patients needing to travel south. He believes Cree people have longer wait times down south and even some Cree communities have unequal access to health services.

“Sometimes they’re told they have to travel the day before the appointment, so some don’t have money and right away they have additional stress,” suggested Diamond. “I’m thankful for the work of Bella Petawabano in bringing birthing back to Eeyou Istchee – Cree midwifery is a big success story.”

He’d like to see Cree parenting skills integrated into youth protection training and address the rise of homelessness by discussing potential solutions with those impacted, learning why they left their communities in the first place.

Strengthening connections across CBHSSJB departments, Diamond proposes each unit put all their problems on the table to work together towards solutions. He wants to explore having local general assemblies to encourage input from community members and ideally have each community’s board of directors elected at the same time so they can work together for four years. 

Encouraging youth to pursue healthcare professions, he questioned why the project to translate health services into the Cree language seemed to stop. Compared to the Cree School Board, Diamond thinks the number of Cree health workers is far too low.

“Imagine if there was a doctor talking to you in Cree?” remarked Diamond. “I tell my grandchildren, your grandchildren are going to be doctors, dentists, psychologists – all the medical professionals will be taken by Cree. That should be the goal, that everyone has their own Cree family doctor.”

Bertie Wapachee

Elected CBHSSJB chairperson at the height of the Covid pandemic in 2020, Wapachee’s initial priorities were to ensure stability. Having previously served as chairperson from 1999 to 2003, Wapachee said he was able to quickly adapt to the role. 

“Many projects were delayed,” Wapachee explained. “As soon as we could open things up, forest fires happened. Quebec’s [proposed health legislation] Bill 15 has been another challenge. We proposed an extended seven-year health agreement because we had close to $2 billion in projects pending.”

Wapachee met with Quebec Health Minister Christian Dubé earlier this year, who committed to a legislative review to modernize the Cree healthcare act, Chapter S-5, which it’s operated under since 1971. Wapachee said the process is about half finished.

The CBHSSJB wants greater responsibility and flexibility to achieve its vision, reflecting Cree identity, language, culture and values. It proposes adopting Eeyou Miyupimaatisiiun and Nishiiyuu healing methods, adapting Cree Youth Protection and changing working conditions and training to reflect a Cree hiring priority. 

“We’ve promoted during my term land-based retreats and programs,” said Wapachee. “We purchased a large outfitting camp in the centre of Eeyou Istchee called Mirage. I call it our place where we deal with our trauma, a big issue that we haven’t done enough to make a dent.” 

Wapachee was initially inspired to run for chairperson to break cycles of alcoholism, drug addiction and sexual abuse. While empowering communities to address these complex issues, Wapachee acknowledged that as long as there are users there will always be dealers.

“We’ve done our best to break not just the cycles but also the silos,” explained Wapachee. “One of the biggest challenges we’ve seen is the violence that comes with alcohol and drug addiction. We’re at the point of implementing harm reduction programs. The only way to resolve these issues is to work together.”

Advocating for “shared responsibility” through expanded partnerships with communities, the Cree Nation Government and the Cree School Board, the CBHSSJB signed a social solidarity agreement last year to support Community Miyupimaatisiiun Committees mandated to identify and address grassroots-level health and social priorities. 

Although the pandemic delayed progress, the Chisasibi regional hospital is expected to open in mid-2029. Construction has started for a birthing home in Waskaganish and an Elders’ home in Chisasibi, with two other 32-bed facilities to be built in Waskaganish and Mistissini.

Eager for dialysis patients to come home, work was accelerated on the Waskaganish clinic, which will replace the Home Dialysis Training Centre and Respiratory Clinic when it’s completed in 2026. With diabetes continuing to increase, Wapachee said they have no choice but to expand prevention measures.

“We’re working towards a new partnership with youth to get into prevention programs,” Wapachee shared. “There’s plenty of partnerships still on the way. Our goal is to continue becoming one of the most progressive Indigenous health and social services organizations in the world.”

_{by Patrick Quinn, Local Journalism Initiative Reporter}

After hundreds of unmarked graves were discovered at a Kamloops residential school site in 2022, Crown-Indigenous Relations and Northern Affairs Canada set aside more than $200 million to support initiatives to document deaths and commemorate the children who did not return home.

Kimberly Murray, the Independent Special Interlocutor for Missing Children and Unmarked Graves and Burial Sites associated with Indian Residential Schools, said this amount implied $5 million per year for each community that applied. But as more communities were applying for funding, Ottawa reduced the amount to $3 million.

“Then this summer they cut it to $500,000 a year,” Murray said. “Survivors and communities through their advocacy fought against that, but Canada has said it renewed the funding cap.” 

As the government is trying “to optimize the use of the money,” the communities cannot use it for commemoration, but only for the ground and archival research, Murray added.

“It’s been upsetting to the communities that were in the middle of the investigation have to fight for funding, not knowing about the plan of investigation,” she said.

Murray emphasized that Canada has an international legal obligation to support the investigations because “it is the government’s fault that these kids disappeared and are missing.”

According to Murray, expenses include community gatherings, survivor testimonies, archival research, hiring experts, ground searches, detection dogs, equipment, exhumation and DNA testing if necessary.

In addition, she thinks the three-year cycle for this work is insufficient. 

“Analyzing the data is very time consuming, so that adds to the cost,” Murray said. “Canada needs to stay with national legal obligations to support these investigations as long as they could.” 

Beside residential schools there are other institutions, such as hospitals and sanatoriums, where Indigenous children were held in deplorable conditions and frequently died. However, she noted, “Canada won’t support searches of those grounds, and that is very problematic.”

Murray believes there should be more funding, more time and fewer restrictions from the federal government. “The government should not be controlling what communities choose to investigate. It should be Indigenous-led, and they should decide what sequence to do their investigation.”

It’s an important part of the healing process, she added, “where families who finally found their loved ones are able to do the ceremonies and lay the medicines on the burial.”

In her “Sites of Truth, Sites of Conscience” report, Murray states that in the nine years since the Truth and Reconciliation Report issued Calls to Action 71–76, very little has been done by Canada and the churches to implement them.

_{Photo provided by: Office of the Independent Special Interlocutor / Aboriginal Affairs and Northern Development Canada}

“It will take years to complete the histories of these sites of truth and conscience and other cemeteries at institutions excluded from the IRSSA [the Indian Residential School Settlement Agreement] and at other institutions where Indigenous children were sent.”

Murray will announce recommendations during the final report event on October 29 in Gatineau.

Rebekah Jacques, a forensic pathologist from the National Advisory Committee for Residential Schools Missing Children and Unmarked Burials, believes reconciliation means taking action.

“For families who wish that their children, who died at residential schools, return home requires meaningful action through forensic work that is Indigenous-led and guided by survivors,” she said. 

This action aligns with the Truth and Reconciliation Call to Action 74, which calls upon the federal government to respond to families’ wishes for reburial in home communities where requested, Jacques noted.  

“In order to achieve reburial, it requires identification of the human remains and their attachment to linear descendants or belonging to their Indigenous communities,” she explained. “It is important that ceremony, cultural practices, Indigenous ways of knowing, and wellness supports are part of the foundation for this work.”

One of the myths about forensic work is a short timeframe, but “this is simply not true, and it will likely take years to complete,” Jacques said. 

National Centre for Truth and Reconciliation Executive Director Stephanie Scott believes funding is an essential part of the debt of justice owed to the families whose children were forcibly taken away. 

“Funding must be determined by need, not by arbitrary formulas,” Scott said. “That’s the only way to meet Parliament’s promise that every Indigenous community would have the means necessary to locate and commemorate the children who never came home.”

The CMA recognized the destructive impacts of Indian hospitals, medical experiments, child apprehension, forced sterilization, racism and abuse in the Canadian medical system.

“To Indigenous Peoples living in Canada, we apologize to you,” said CMA President Joss Reimer. “We are sorry. We are sorry we have lost your trust and for the harm you, your ancestors, your families and your communities have experienced. We acknowledge there are ripple effects on future generations.”

Dr. Reimer highlighted ongoing problems before about 200 guests, including local and national Indigenous leaders, physicians and Indigenous survivors.

“This is an opportunity to really reinforce the messages that Indigenous people are sharing about what their experienced,” she told the Nation. “And then also to put a point in the history where we are committed to a different path.”

The organizers presented Unforgotten: Sonny MacDonald’s Story, a short film about a seven-year-old boy who was taken from his community to receive treatment for tuberculosis. He was incarcerated in the hospital for two-and-a-half years, enduring isolation, child abuse and torture. 

Reimer said the Historical and Ethical Review Report, posted by the CMA on its website, describes systemic discrimination, social and economic inequities experienced by Indigenous people within healthcare services.

“Some of them were in our archives, some of them came from the conversations we had with community members, Elders and knowledge keepers,” she said.

In her opinion, harm due to systemic racism is still ongoing. “Systems were built to benefit some people over others, but the CMA wants to be a part of the best future where we work with Indigenous peoples, where we provide the health care they need.”

The CMA is reopening its professional code of ethics, improving hiring practices, said Reimer. 

“There is something we need to do in partnership with our Indigenous guiding circle, with local and national Indigenous leaders, with Elders and knowledge keepers,” Reimer said. 

The ceremony included a speech from Dr. Alika Lafontaine, a physician of Cree and Anishinaabe ancestry, the first Indigenous president in the association’s 155-year history.

“Today the CMA is taking an important step in its reconciliation journey with Indigenous peoples,” Lafontaine said in his speech. “After years of internal work, the CMA is sharing and owning its history.”

Since the ceremony Lafontaine has received feedback that falls into two categories.

“Positive feedback was that this actually happened,” he told the Nation. “Apology is just a step, it is not a solution to the problem, but is a necessary part in solving some types of problems, and the other part was asking what has actually been done?”  

There are some projects where there is an opportunity for the CMA to address the harm caused to Indigenous people, and others where the CMA can support groups and organizations across the country looking for ethics and professionalism, Lafontaine explained.

“This apology is an important step in resolving issues and moving forward and being focused on the changing in attitudes towards Indigenous people,” he said.

Marlene Hale, human rights activist and a filmmaker from the Wet’suwet’en Nation, is leading the research for a full-length documentary about systemic injustice in Canada, where one of the five themes is crisis in the healthcare system.

One of her film’s stories highlights the death of Joyce Echaquan, the Atikamekw woman who died four years ago in the Joliette hospital after enduring racist remarks from medical staff.

In 2020 Joyce’s Principle was proposed “to guarantee to all Indigenous people the right of equitable access, without any discrimination, to all social and health services.” However, Hale said, “Access to healthcare is an ongoing crisis for Indigenous communities.”

In her opinion, this apology must be followed by action, including more funds to treatment centres, investing in underserved communities, and ensuring that marginalized populations receive equitable care.

“This is so close to September 30, when we mark the National Day for Truth and Reconciliation,” Hale said. “And this is where the government has to step in and really show Indigenous people that they are doing reconciliation.”

Society of Obstetricians and Gynaecologists of Canada (SOGC) President Lynn Murphy-Kaulbeck attended the apology ceremony and agrees “that you cannot do apology without action.”

In particular, Dr. Murphy-Kaulbeck identified the practice of forced sterilization. The SOGC reaffirmed in its statement that “coercive sterilization procedures are unethical and should never be performed.”

“We need to meet with our Indigenous partners” Murphy-Kaulbeck emphasized, “and say we must prevent this from ever happening again.”

Physicians need to learn cultural specifics from Indigenous groups, she added. “There needs to be a dialogue. We need to sit down and listen – not telling but listening – to give the type of care that Indigenous people deserve.”

While his visit to Eeyou Istchee was primarily for a renaming ceremony of the Eastmain hydroelectric complex, it was Premier François Legault’s memorable experience in Nemaska that may help build a better relationship between the Cree Nation and Quebec government. 

On September 15, the Eastmain dam and generating station were renamed the Bernard Landry hydroelectric development. The adjacent basin was renamed the Paix des Braves reservoir in commemoration of the 2002 agreement between the Cree Nation and the PQ government led by Landry.

Former Grand Chief Ted Moses spoke about developing a close relationship with Landry through visits to each other’s homes and reminisced about travelling around his family’s trapline along the river that was dammed. Robert Kanatewat added further context regarding negotiations with the province for the James Bay and Northern Quebec Agreement. 

“I paid tribute to our ancestors to honour the life and spirit that flowed through the river before the dams,” said Deputy Grand Chief Norman A. Wapachee. “To reflect on how much the Cree went through. I mentioned the wampum belt with two vessels using the same river, the balance between progress and preservation.”

Legault, who served in Landry’s cabinet at the time, said he was inspired by the strong partnership that his late predecessor developed with the Cree Nation. With Hydro-Québec seeking to double its capacity in the coming years, Wapachee said there remain sensitive issues to discuss before collaborating on proposed wind energy projects.   

Since the renaming ceremony coincided with Nemaska’s 47th anniversary celebrations, Chief Clarence Jolly arranged with Indigenous Affairs Minister Ian Lafrenière for the dignitaries to pay a visit to the community’s former village where the Rupert River widens into Lake Nemiscau. Coming to a remote Indigenous community with no idea of what to expect, Legault and his wife Isabelle Brais were visibly taken aback by the beautiful village and warm welcome.

Greeted by community members arriving by canoe to re-enact the new village’s founding, Nemaska director general George Wapachee said it was “like they were visiting Shangri-La in the middle of Quebec.” After asking about Nemaska’s history on the ride over, it was apparently only in the shaptuan when Wapachee told the story of their displacement that Legault realized that it was because of hydro development. 

“I could see Legault trying to put these puzzle pieces together,” said Norman Wapachee. “Isabelle was a really good listener and helped him understand. What touched me was he said after 47 years, if somebody treated me like that, I would still be angry today. That room was full, and you could see all the smiles and excitement.”

Entering the banquet hall to a surprising standing ovation, Legault impressed with his “down-to-earth” nature and easy humour. As he munched on smoked sturgeon, he could be found mingling among community members, asking questions, sharing jokes and posing for selfies. A mechanical bull added to the festivities this summer brought more laughter. 

“We were in a celebratory mood so let politics aside,” explained George Wapachee. “He’s very approachable. We’ve got some allies on our side now. At the end of his speech, he quoted the Terminator movie: ‘I’ll be back’.”

Riding together from the Route du Nord into Nemaska, Wapachee hinted to the premier that the first six kilometres of dusty gravel road is under provincial jurisdiction while the paved part after Champion Lake is federal. He hopes to build further understanding through giving Legault the book he co-authored with Susan Marshall: Going Home, The Untold Story of Nemaska Eenouch. 

The 600-page historical account, researched and compiled over 15 years, was published by the community in 2022. The trauma begins when Nemaska people were scattered to the outskirts of Waskaganish and Mistissini between 1970 and 1977 in deplorable conditions, severing social ties and fuelling tensions between communities. 

“Something that struck me, [Legault] asked, ‘Did Hydro-Québec tell you what they were doing?’” Wapachee recounted. “No, they never said anything. Workers doing feasibility studies told us, ‘You’ll be underwater, swimming around like the beavers.’”

In those days, Nemaska was under federal jurisdiction with the Quebec government out of the picture until they started looking for rivers to dam. Indian Affairs indirectly used the Indians of Quebec Association to tell Nemaska to move. Fearing the fate of Ouje-Bougoumou’s countless displacements, they asked themselves whether it would be the Grand Council or Indian Affairs to relocate them.

“But there is a third option – let’s go home ourselves,” recalled Wapachee. “It’s nothing new to what Crees did every year in those days. We all camped together in tents, had a big meeting and came up with a community plan.”

While the JBNQA enabled them to create their own community, Indian Affairs preferred a less costly option closer to existing roadways and refused to pay for a new road. Elders selected the site between Champion Lake and a stream, which later protected them from forest fires while IA’s proposed sites burned.

Although the Nemaska people were happy to have a home for the community, even if it was temporarily in tents, the insufficient funding and unrealistic deadlines for community-building caused many problems. Lacking clean water and sewage systems, four children died from a gastroenteritis outbreak in the early 1980s. 

“It happened because of the conditions imposed, that if you don’t move, you’re going to lose your right to move,” lamented Wapachee. “Somebody has to account for what happened to the people. It’s not settled. [Legault] seems to realize the wrong done to our people a long time ago.”

While Hydro-Québec kept Nemaska from returning to their original home, it was of course never flooded and remains a popular summer destination. There are even initiatives to build log cabins and improve its sanitation system. Wapachee suggested transferring some of the community’s Category 1b lands to Old Nemaska to deepen this connection.

When Legault asked people if they’d like to eventually return permanently, many said yes. As a traditional gathering place predating European contact, its landscape possesses the natural qualities that Cree have always valued in setting up camps. Wapachee told the premier the origin story that Billy Diamond loved to recite.

“One of our Elders landed on shore and there were pine trees all over,” narrated Wapachee. “The Elder took a piece of pointed stick, jabbed it into the ground, wiggled it around and the soil was good. The premier laughed when I told him about the Elder’s stick in the sand – that was his feasibility study.”

As Governor General, Simon represents the Crown, King Charles III, in Canada. While her duties are nonpartisan and largely ceremonial, the role of her position is to uphold the traditions of Parliament and other democratic institutions.

Born in 1947 in Kangiqsualujjuaq, Simon returns home to Nunavik often, where she enjoys playing the accordion, berry picking, and being in nature when not working in Ottawa and visiting communities across Canada. 

Beginning her career as a broadcaster for CBC North, Simon was an Inuit representative during the negotiation for the James Bay and Northern Quebec Agreement of 1975 as well as the patriation of the Constitution in 1982.

The Nation (TN): Your Excellency, you have had a remarkable journey to becoming the Governor General of Canada. Can you share with us how your career path led you to this prestigious position? Specifically, what were some of the significant moments and roles that prepared you for this responsibility, and how did you navigate the selection process?

Mary Simon (MS): The first time I worked full-time for the government, I was 28. That’s when I was elected to an organization board. I was quite young and getting involved in regional politics up in Nunavik, in northern Quebec, which is where I come from, a place called Kuujjuaq on the northern tip of the province. 

International work was fascinating for me because it provided me with a new vision of what this world was about. I got to meet other Indigenous people from Finland and northern Russia, and we had so much in common, even though we are all very different in terms of culture and language.

Two and a half years ago, I received a call from the government office. I wasn’t even supposed to tell my husband that I was shortlisted for the position with two other people. It took two or three months, and it was very confidential and nerve-wracking because I knew my life would change forever. 

My time in Denmark gave me an idea of what to expect if I got the position. The diplomatic life is very different from everyday life, and I knew that my experience in Denmark would help me out a lot. I got through the interviews, even though I was very open about not speaking French. I was bilingual in English and Inuktitut, and I thought this might be the one barrier that would stop me. 

Anyway, I got the job. One day, the Prime Minister called, and after talking to me for 45 minutes, he said something like, “Well, you know why I called. I wasn’t going to do this, but I’m doing it right now. I’m offering you the job as Governor General.” I was so happy I screamed.

TN: Can you tell us more about your upbringing in the Arctic and how it has influenced your journey? What lessons did you learn from your family and community that continue to guide you?

MS: It has been quite a journey, from living in the Arctic with very little, in a sense. My grandma was a nomadic person; all Indigenous people were nomadic before the colonization process. My grandma taught me so much about my history. My background is very rich, but not in a materialistic way. The Inuit moved from season to season. 

In the North, we are a people of the land. When you speak of a tight-knit group of people covering a vast area in the Arctic region, living a nomadic way of life and following the seasons and the animals, this is something special we have kept with us.

TN: As Governor General, you have emphasized several key priorities. Could you elaborate on your focus areas, particularly regarding reconciliation and the empowerment of Indigenous communities? How do you envision these efforts evolving, and what steps do you think are crucial for meaningful progress?

MS: Reconciliation is a difficult issue. People don’t like to tell stories, people don’t like to tell who they are, but that conversation has to take place. If we’re going to have a country that is premised on issues like racism and violence, we have to understand the country in a much better way, and people need to know who they are. 

Indigenous people are always saying they want to run their own affairs, so this arrangement should be made while staying in Canada, not outside of Canada, because we’ve evolved so much over 150 years. Turning the clock back may not be possible, but there are many self-government agreements that are being signed now in Canada, which allow Indigenous people to have a lot more authority over their own affairs while living in the country. 

The problem is that the services Indigenous people get aren’t enough. When you look at the communities, clean water access and health systems, we need to do more for the northern regions, which continue to have limited access to these essential services. Improving internet access, for example, would allow for an increase in mental health services for northern Indigenous communities due to the vast improvements made in online mental health services in Canada since Covid-19. 

I’ve always felt very strongly that people need to understand that our body and mind are together and one. People think they are separate, like you’re physically sick or you have mental health challenges. In the North and across the country, the inequality between the two health services is quite large. There needs to be more of a balance between physical health services and mental health services because if you’re mentally not well, then you are physically not well.

TN: Education is often mentioned as a cornerstone of your agenda. How do you see education transforming the future of Indigenous youth and the broader Canadian society? What specific changes or initiatives do you believe are necessary to ensure a more inclusive and accurate representation of Indigenous history and culture in our educational system?

MS: Education is one of my priorities. Education is key, and the role of teachers is very important. I’m using education not just in the academic sense in schools, but to educate Canadians about the country, about who Indigenous people are, and what happened in the past. There are no history books that truly reflect this. Every school should teach the real history of the country, not in a negative way, but just the history itself, what happened over the last 150 years. 

The part about Indigenous people is absent in many of the history books. A former prime minister grew up over a hill, and there was a residential school not far from his house, and he never knew. It was an issue that was never brought up, so the history of the country is important to teach in a true and more comprehensive way. Including Indigenous history is crucial. 

The role of education is very important. To get a job these days, most people want you to have a post-secondary education. In the early days, it wasn’t so much about that, but now it is. A lot of kids in the North face challenges; for instance, they go to school in Inuktitut for the first three years, then after Grade 3, they are expected to switch to English or French. This sudden switch creates a situation where, by Grade 9 or 10, many can’t catch up and drop out. This type of thing in the North has to change so that kids don’t face these problems.

TN: Climate change and food access are pressing issues in northern Quebec and across Canada. How are these challenges impacting Inuit communities, and what measures do you think are essential to address them? How can traditional knowledge and modern technology work together to ensure food security and sustainability?

MS: Access to food is of utmost importance. I just came back from one of the northernmost communities alongside the Hudson Strait, and there was great concern about how climate change was affecting the community’s ability to hunt and fish. Traditional knowledge is a very solid knowledge base, but with the changes in climate, things like weather and seasonal harvests become harder to predict. In early April, the hunters were telling me that the seasonal shift was two months ahead, and the sea ice is already melting like it does in June. 

Because this directly affects access to food, finding solutions should be a priority. We can help people adapt to the changes without giving up who they are, without giving up their culture, and without giving up their language. There are new technologies to help people who need to go out and hunt for food. 

All humans need protein in one form or another every single day, and in the North, it’s meat and fish that we depend on because when you go into the store, there’s hardly anything there. People really have to go out and hunt for their food, so to me, food access to northern communities must be a priority. 

There are lots of other inequalities. Housing is a big issue, as it is across the country these days, but in the North, it has been bad for many years. Lack of policy has been terrible. The inequality of housing is a big issue for governments in the North, even to the point where now, because of climate change, the permafrost is melting, and the houses that were built on it start to break and crack as the earth melts and shifts. There’s no way of helping them fix those problems because there’s no funding or help for them to rebuild in different locations.

TN: Adjusting to life in Ottawa must have been quite a transition. Can you share your experiences moving to the nation’s capital and how you balance living between two cultures? What has helped you stay connected to home while fulfilling your duties as Governor General?

MS: A lot of my family and my grandmother’s sisters were relocated to the high Arctic to live in another community by force. There were a lot of relocations happening in those days. 

So, when I moved to Ottawa, I started living in this huge house – it’s a beautiful house with a lot of culture and some history – and it was an adjustment for sure, but I have adjusted before. I can live in one culture one moment and then go up North and live in my own culture the next, so this transcending of both cultures makes me very fortunate. Being able to stay connected back home makes it easier living here in Ottawa.

The United Nations Permanent Forum on Indigenous Issues (UNPFII) is a high-level advisory body that has focused on raising awareness and gathering expert recommendations since 2002. Several side events examine pressing issues that help develop policies upholding Indigenous rights. 

Cree justice director Donald Nicholls moderated a side event April 18 – “Paving the Way for Future Generations: Reclaiming Indigenous Rights and Collaborating with State Governments for Sustainable Development and Sustainable Relations.” Grand Chiefs from the Cree, Algonquin-Anishinabeg and Atikamekw Nations were joined by Assembly of First Nations Regional Chief Ghislain Picard.

“This panel was unique because it’s representing Indigenous people in Quebec saying don’t treat us like the enemy,” Nicholls told the Nation. “We’re here to build those relationships. It shouldn’t be adversarial. Voicing our concerns and proposing solutions is very important if we’re really going to have participation.”

Atikamekw Grand Chief Constant Awashish explained that just as he wants a strong Canada and Quebec, it’s in their best interests to have strong First Nations. While there has been slow progress toward this mutual empowerment, he said his people still don’t feel a sense of belonging. 

“Our biggest enemy is the status quo,” Picard asserted. “Staying idle on key issues is helping the agendas of governments. Despite the geopolitics, our nations are creating those spaces for themselves.”

Picard referenced the Cree-Innu sharing agreement for harvesting caribou as an example of First Nations creating solutions independently of federal and provincial governments. Grand Chief Mandy Gull-Masty said the Cree Nation continues to leverage the JBNQA for enhance the rights of Cree and neighbouring nations.

“We used this position to our advantage and continue to build on our land claim,” said Gull-Masty. “I don’t think this is the only governance system we should adhere to – my neighbouring nations across Canada are united in the position we take although we come from different histories.”

The conversation connected this advocacy with participation in decision-making that impacts Indigenous rights and lands. Still, Indigenous peoples remain largely on the periphery of key discussions.

“It’s the illusion of inclusion without us being there,” said Algonquin Grand Chief Savanna McGregor. “I see that hunger to finally be treated as equal and not a second thought. It’s important to show we’re not complacent.” 

Nicholls noted that when UN members came together to design the first charter of human rights in 1948, Canada applied it to everyone except Indigenous peoples. As the Cree Nation achieved greater recognition through the legal system, in the 1980s it advocated for Indigenous rights in the Canadian constitution. 

While Canada voted against the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (UNDRIP) when it was adopted in 2007, it has since not only reversed its position but in 2021 became the first country to adopt it into domestic law. 

The Supreme Court’s unanimous affirmation of Indigenous jurisdiction over child and family services in Bill C-92 this February was also the first time that UNDRIP was clearly shown to be enforceable in Canadian law. Speakers at the UN event commended Canada for developing an UNDRIP action plan but said the process hasn’t been inclusive enough. 

“We want to see a national mechanism that ensures compliance without having to go to court to have resolution,” said Nicholls. “Why not make an Indigenous rights tribunal that respects and affirms Indigenous rights? We want a domestic framework that’s accessible to Indigenous peoples.”

Although UNDRIP consists of minimum standards endorsed by Canada and 146 other countries, there are concerns that parts of the domestic law differ from the declaration. First Nations leaders worry that without Indigenous input, the principles could be compromised. 

British Columbia became Canada’s first jurisdiction to implement UNDRIP in 2019, creating a deputy minister position that works to ensure it’s consistent with provincial laws. While only the Northwest Territories is close to following BC’s lead, Nicholls shared that Quebec Justice Minister Simon Jolin-Barrette told him he is open to adopting it.

Last year, the UN honoured the centennial of Haudenosaunee Deskaheh Levi General’s unsuccessful attempt to speak to its predecessor, the League of Nations. While there are now three UN bodies dealing specifically with Indigenous issues, the struggle continues for high-level participation.

“The majority of comments about Canada’s human rights record were about Indigenous peoples’ rights but Indigenous peoples were not allowed to attend or make submissions,” lamented Nicholls. “The conversation changes when we’re not there.”

Gull-Masty believes Canada has much to gain by creating space for Indigenous voices to supplement positions they share. She said accepting accountability for UNDRIP could allow Canada to influence member states with less-developed Indigenous relations.

“We as Canadians have to be the example and we as First Nations have to guide Canada in being that example,” asserted Gull-Masty. “As a progressive country, Canada could add so much to their position in the international forum.”