“The Mountains are Healing”: Engaging with Splatsin Knowledges of Wellbeing,
Dispossession and Land-based Healing
by
Natali Euale
A Thesis Presented to the University of Guelph
In partial fulfillment of requirements for the degree of Master of Arts in Public Issues Anthropology
© Natali Euale, December, 2018
ABSTRACT “THE MOUNTAINS ARE HEALING”:
ENGAGING WITH SPLATSIN KNOWLEDGES OF WELLBEING, DISPOSSESSION
AND LAND-BASED HEALING
Natali Euale Advisor:
University of Guelph, 2018 Dr. Thomas McIlwraith
Guided by decolonizing methodologies, Indigenous Knowledge systems and environmental dispossession and (re)possession theories, this thesis explores Splatsin perspectives on the connection between land and wellbeing in the context of historical and on-going alienation from traditional lands and cultural practices. A community-based participatory research approach framed this project conducted in collaboration with ten members of the Splatsin community who are part of the Secwépemc (Shuswap) Nation of southern interior British Columbia, Canada.
Informed by participant observation, field trips, and semi-structured interviews, this project centers the voices and experiences of Splatsin Elders and community Knowledge Keepers as a way to decolonize what can be known about wellbeing. The greater goal of this project was to explore the possible benefits of restoring Indigenous land-based and cultural practices for community wellbeing.
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DEDICATIONS I dedicate this work to the Elders and Knowledge Keepers of the Splatsin community who— along with their ancestors—have worked at preserving the cultural knowledge of their people. This dissertation would not have been possible without their guidance, participation, and patience. I will be forever grateful for the kindness of the Secwépemc peoples for sharing the beauty and energy of your land, Se . I cannot thank you enough for welcoming me into your homes, taking me under your wing, and sharing your stories, laughter, teachings, and tasty meals. I will keep your teachings with me always.
Kukwstsésemc
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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS I would first like to acknowledge and honor the spirits of the land of the Secwépemc peoples, which became teachers for me in so many ways, as well as the Splatsin Elders and Knowledge Keepers whose words and knowledge shaped this work. These include Julianna Alexander, Marie Thomas, Shirley Bird, Edna Felix, Donna Antoine, Laura William, Trina Antoine, Randy Williams, Gloria Morgan and John-Paul Thomas.
I would also like to express my gratitude to my academic advisor, Dr. Tad McIlwraith, for creating countless opportunities for me that I never would have imagined possible and for your patience, wisdom, enthusiasm, and support throughout this work. I am honored that you believed in me enough to invite me into a community that you hold so dear. Thank you for being my mentor since I first started this program and for providing me with the knowledge and tools that I needed to continue this work on my own. This thesis was strengthened by your knowledge, your questions and your encouragement.
I am grateful to Dr. Elizabeth Finnis, for providing me with excellent feedback and guidance throughout my entire University experience. Thank you for believing in me as an undergraduate stud nt and su orting y d ision to ursu a Mast r’s d gr .
Thank you to the Department of Sociology and Anthropology staff, especially Shelagh Daly for your kindness, willingness to help and for having all the answers!
Finally, I would like to thank all the amazing Indigenous scholars and educators whose writings provided me with inspiration and guidance throughout this journey.
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CONTENTS
ABSTRACT ...... ii DEDICATIONS ...... iii ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS ...... iv CONTENTS...... v FIGURES ...... vii Chapter 1: Reaffirming Indigenous Knowledges through Splatsin Narratives ...... 1 1.1 Introduction ...... 1 1.2 Decolonizing Knowledge Production within Anthropology ...... 2 1.3 Situating myself within the research ...... 7 1.4 Research rationale ...... 11 1.5 Theoretical Framework: From a Western to an Indigenous Research Paradigm ...... 13 1.5.1 Environmental dispossession ...... 14 1.5.2 Environmental (Re)possession ...... 16 1.5.3 Indigenous Knowledge Systems ...... 17 1.6 Research Design: towards a decolonized form of community engagement ...... 19 1.6.1 Decolonizing Community Engagement ...... 19 1.6.2 Community-based participatory research...... 21 1.6.3 Learning from the land through participant observation and field trips ...... 24 1.6.4 Ethical concerns ...... 26 1.7 Research Gap and Objectives ...... 28 1.8 Overview of chapters ...... 30 Chapter 2: Secwépemc Place-based Knowledges and the Impacts of Dispossession ...... 32 2.1 Introduction ...... 32 2.2 Who are the Splatsin? ...... 33 2.2.1 Traditional Secwépemc subsistence practices ...... 35 2.2.2 Secwépemc stewardship of the land ...... 37 2.2.3 Secwépemc relationship to place ...... 39 2.2.4 Introducing Sek’lep (Coyote) as a Secwépemc way of knowing about the world ...... 42 2.2.5 The attempted erasure of Secwépemc peoples from Secwépemc ecw ...... 44 2.3 Splatsin experiences of environmental dispossession ...... 51 2.3.1 Direct processes of environmental dispossession ...... 51 vi
2.3.2 Indirect forms of environmental dispossession: ...... 55 2.4 Conclusion ...... 58 Chapter 3: “Walking good on earth”: Interconnections of culture, land and wellbeing ...... 60 3.1 Introduction ...... 60 3.2 Understanding Place and Wellbeing: Existing Approaches ...... 61 3.2.1 Health Geography ...... 62 3.2.2 Anthropology of Wellbeing ...... 64 3.3 Splatsin definitions of wellbeing...... 68 3.3.1 Learning balance through the medicine wheel ...... 70 3.3.2 Spiritual wellbeing ...... 76 3.3.3 Emotional wellbeing ...... 77 3.3.4 Mental wellbeing ...... 78 3.3.5 Physical wellbeing ...... 79 3.4 Relationships among land, culture and wellbeing...... 82 3.4.1 Land-based activities and cultural identity ...... 82 3.4.2 Splatsin land-based knowledge ...... 86 3.4.3 Land-based healing ...... 88 3.5 Discussion: Impacts of environmental dispossession on Splatsin wellbeing ...... 90 3.6 Improving Splatsin wellbeing through land-based resiliency ...... 93 Chapter 4: Reflections on the Contributions and Challenges of Community-Based Research within the Academy ...... 99 4.1 Introduction ...... 99 4.2 Contributions...... 99 4.3 Challenges of community-based work within the academy...... 101 4.3.1 Time constraints ...... 101 4.3.2 An ironic response to decolonizing methodologies? ...... 103 4.4 Concluding remarks ...... 105 BIBLIOGRAPHY ...... 109 Appendix A: Interview Questions ...... 117 Appendix B: Detail on the Knowledge Gathering Process ...... 119
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FIGURES Figure 1: Map of (Secwépemc Territory) ...... 33
Figure 2: Splatsin wellness wheel ...... 70
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Chapter 1: Reaffirming Indigenous Knowledges through Splatsin Narratives 1.1 Introduction
The aim of this project is to explore the culturally specific dimensions of wellbeing maintained via Splatsin o l ’s land-based activities. This work will advance a discussion on the intimate connection between Indigenous wellbeing and the land through an ethnographic engagement with Splatsin peoples and their knowledge of local places. The Splatsin are part of the Secwépemc Nation of southern interior British Columbia, Canada and live along the
Shuswap River in the Fraser River watershed. The purpose of this work is to gain a better understanding of the connections among Indigenous wellbeing, a lack of access to traditional lands, and the challenges of passing on Splatsin knowledges from Elders to youth. I also hope to show the various ways that Splatsin peoples continue to resist these forms of colonial dispossession through regaining attachments and restoring reciprocal relations with land, family, and community. There are three main objectives guiding my work:
1) To collaborate with the Splatsin community in order to contribute to discussions about
the possibility of an enhanced relationship b t n ‘land’ and ‘ ultur ’ to i rov so ial
conditions, particularly health and wellbeing among Indigenous peoples.
2) To challenge the dominance of Western conceptualizations of health within wellbeing
research and highlight an alternative way of thinking about wellbeing by centering
Splatsin ways of knowing about health and wellness.
3) To x lor latsin o l s’ a roa h s to r sisting olonial ro ss s of dis oss ssion
and maintaining their ties to traditional lands.
The main research question that arises in this context is: 1) What is the relationship between
Splatsin understandings of wellbeing and land-based practices/activities? Secondary questions include: 2) What are the benefits of being on the land as the Splatsin perceive them? 3) What are 2 the challenges that prevent being on the land? And 4) How are Splatsin peoples resisting dispossession and maintaining their connections with traditional lands and cultural practices?
This work can only provide a glimpse of what wellbeing means for Splatsin, as I did not interview youth and adults below the age of fifty.
1.2 Decolonizing Knowledge Production within Anthropology
Anthropology departments cannot ignore that they are situated in unceded Indigenous territories. And we, as anthropologists working in Canada, cannot avoid the ongoing struggles of Black, Indigenous and other racialized communities here. Anthropology in Canada, therefore, cannot step outside of its entanglement with the colonial logics of the Canadian nation-state (Todd 2016, blog post).
Calls for decolonization have emerged in mainstream politics and academia, particularly
ithin anthro ology. Th s alls in lud qu stions lik hat do s it an to ‘d oloniz ’ anthro ology and hat ould ‘d olonizing’ anthro ology look like for research among
Indigenous communities (Noble 2015; McGranahan and Rizvi 2016; Todd 2016)? To decolonize anthropology means to expose the colonial histories of anthropology, which have and continue to produce oppressive and hierarchical systems of knowledge production (McGranahan and Rizvi
2016). Thus, decolonizing anthropological research includes rethinking epistemology, pedagogy, methodology and community (McGranahan and Rizvi 2016).
Anthropologists have long noted the colonial roots of their field, which prioritized the voices of Western scholars over the voices of the communities that anthropologists work with (Todd
2016; Noble 2015). In wellbeing research among Indigenous people, conceptualizations about health and wellbeing are dominated by the views of Western medicine, relegating the voices and
x ri n s of Indig nous o l s as “ r obj ts of r s ar h for th onsu tion and b n fit of non-Indig nous r s ar h rs” (Igna t al. 2016:17). This outlook r infor es the notion that academia is “white publi s a ” that produces narratives that normalize and obscure the 3 treatment of Indigenous peoples at the hands of settlers (Todd 2016). Thus, part of decolonizing knowledge production within anthropology means to expose the colonial histories of anthropology, which have and continue to produce oppressive and hierarchical systems of knowledge production (McGranahan and Rizvi 2016).
Many academics and other thinkers have reflected, studied and written about the need to decolonize what counts as knowledge, the processes through which one gets to claim that knowledge, and the persistent colonialism in academic teaching and research (Smith 1999; Todd
2016,2017; Simpson 2017). As a person from Venezuela, and a graduate student working on a community-based project with an Indigenous community, I became increasingly aware that academia is a deeply contested site for the production and transmission of knowledge and understanding about Indigenous peoples and racialized folks in general.
During my studies at the University of Guelph, a university situated on the traditional territories of the Attawandaron/Chonnonton peoples and the treaty lands of the Mississaugas of the New Credit First Nation, I began to contemplate the previous and ongoing processes of colonialism that have brought me to settle on this land. I also began to think about the colonial histories of universities themselves. My desire to learn more about decolonizing knowledge production within academia led me to the work of Red River Métis scholar Zoe Todd. In her blog post, “Teaching in place: fostering relationality and reciprocity in the classroom”, Todd
(2017) ak s th argu nt for rof ssors to t nd to th “lay r d la -bas d histori s” that animate the specific territory one works and teaches in. This is a call for professors to localize their teachings as a way to encourage students to think critically about the histories of the places and territories they move within (Todd 2017). Todd argues that the process of “lo alizing” on ’s teachings is not solely about recognizing lands/waters/environments within the classroom. It 4 requires us to think about our responsibilities to the communities whose territories we are occupying and make explicit the colonial histories of the places we teach and learn within (Todd
2017).
In my own experiences learning from Splatsin knowledge holders as well as through the work of other Indigenous thinkers (Coulthard 2014; Todd 2017; Simpson 2017), I formed an understanding of what it means to tend to the “lay r d la -bas d histori s” of the places I move within. For me, moving within Attawandaron territory (Guelph, ON) and Secwépemc ecw
(Secwépemc territory) involves paying respect to and honoring the Indigenous stewards of these territories. It also means taking the time to consider my own role in the stewardship of the environment and in building positive relationships with Indigenous communities while challenging destructive ones. It involves building community, not only with the human inhabitants of these territories, but also with all the other-than-human beings that comprise the earth (water, air, land, animals, spirits).
Through the work of Leanne Simpson (2017), Achille Mbembe (2016) Linda Tuhiwai Smith
(1999) and Marie Battiste (2002), I was further able to consider the hegemony or universality of
European thought—of “ al n ss” and “ hit n ss” within post-secondary institutions. In his work on decolonizing the university, Achille Mbembe analyzes the dominance of the Western or
Eurocentric way of knowledge production within academic institutions, which leads to the universalization of Western kno l dg as th ‘l giti at ’ way of acquiring knowledge (2016).
Mbembe (2016:36) argues that the university as an institution has b n “W st rniz d”; leading to an “ ist i oloniality” hi h h d fin s as:
The endless production of theories that are based on European traditions. Therese are produced nearly always by European or Euro-American men who are the only ones accepted as capable of reaching universality; they involve a particular anthropological knowledge, which is a process of knowing about Others—but a 5
process that never fully acknowledged these Others as thinking and knowledge producing subjects (Mbembe 2016:36).
Similarly, Smith (1999), Battiste (2002) and i son (2017) argu that “ od rn” or
“W st rn” education focuses on a cultural construction of knowledge built on European ways of knowing, creating an institutionalized system of control and imposed superiority which dismisses ways of knowing and being in the world from the perspectives of Indigenous, Black and other racialized communities in Canada. In her work on indigenous knowledge and pedagogy,
Mi’k a s holar Mari Battist (2002) has oint d out that th do inan of kno l dg production from the West within academia continues to disregard and erase other types of knowledge. As stated by Battiste (2002:5):
For as long as Europeans have sought to colonize Indigenous peoples, Indigenous kno l dg has b n und rstood as b ing in binary o osition to “s i ntifi ”, “ st rn”, “Euro ntri ”, or “ od rn” kno l dg . Euro ntri think rs dismissed Indigenous knowledge in the same way they dismissed any socio- political cultural life they did not understand: they found it to be unsystematic and incapable of meeting the productivity needs of the modern world.
During the time that I have spent learning from Splatsin peoples in Secwépemc ecw1, I often wondered whether post-secondary education provided me with the skill sets needed in order to undertake community-engaged work with Indigenous communities. As students, we are taught ho to tak not s, ho to anag our ti ithin stri t ti lin s, ho to rit ‘a ad i ally’, how to memorize information in order to pass standardized tests, how to think within the confines of Western thought, and how to achieve high grades to get desired jobs within the institutions of capitalism. As argued by Simpson (2017:14), postsecondary education provides
“f us ful skill s ts” to thos who want to challenge and radically change the ongoing colonial oppression of Indigenous peoples by the Canadian state.
1 Secwépemc ecw is the Secwépectsín (Shuswap language) word for ‘ hus a T rritory’ and this is th s lling used by Ronald Ignace and Marianne Ignace in their work Secwépemc People, Land and Laws (2017). 6
As a way to address the reproduction of colonial thinking within academic research design and delivery, Smith (1999) suggests that researchers should approach projects with Indigenous peoples as a partnership, with Indigenous knowledge keepers leading the project and deciding on the framing and use of the results. Necessarily, a decolonized form of community engagement requires settler institutions and academics to relinquish control of research with Indigenous peoples and accept that Indigenous communities have the expertise and the right—to lead and have ownership of the work they want to participate in (Smith 1999; Kornelson 2017). As Derek
Kornelson points out in his blog on decolonizing community engagement:
In a sense, a decolonized form of community engagement is about learning humility and recognizing the plain fact that Indigenous people know more about their own health and w lln ss than ‘ x rt’ non-Indigenous researchers do. It is about recognizing that Indigenous Elders, Knowledge-Keepers, scholars and community members have much to teach the Western world about what it means to live well (Kornelson 2017).
However, decolonization in this context does not mean a rejection of all Western knowledge.
Rather, this is a call for an inclusion and acceptance of multiple ways of knowing. For research involving Indigenous communities, and for my own work with the Splatin people, it means building community by engaging respectfully and ethically with Indigenous ways of knowing in order to make sense of the challenges faced by Indigenous peoples on their own terms, based on their own theories and reflections (Smith 1999; Kornelson 2017). In keeping with the practice and principles of decolonization, my thesis centers the voices and experiences of Splatsin peoples as a way to explore an alternative understanding of wellbeing, dispossession and resilience that is uniquely representative of Splatsin worldviews. As stated by Smith:
D olonization…do s not an and has not ant a total r j tion of all th ory or research or Western knowledge. Rather, it is about centering our concerns and worldviews and then coming to know and understand theory and research from our own perspectives and for our own purposes (Smith 1999:39).
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As an anthropology student taking an anti-colonial research stance, I had to leave behind many of the teachings of post-secondary education—and with humility and respect—become a student all over again. Only this time, the land, Splatsin Elders, and community knowledge holders were my teachers. I hope that the teachings and knowledges of the Splatsin peoples are visible throughout this work, despite the challenges posed by the need to conform to the demands of an academic thesis. In particular, my us of th hras “Moth r Earth” to refer to the natural environment is a nod to Splatsin perceptions of the land as life sustaining, sentient and female.
Splatsin teachings about Mother Earth are rooted in the belief that humans do not exist separate from nature or “ r ation”. As suggested by my Splatsin teachers, this understanding of the non- duality of humans and nature is a direct contrast to Western perspectives about the environment rooted in a capitalist mentality, which place human beings as separate from the natural world and as having power over its so-called resources. My upbringing in Venezuela, following the cultural teachings of my family from “Los And s” (the Andes) shaped my own understanding of the environment. In these teachings, phrases like “Madr Natural za” aning “Moth r Natur ” represent the life-giving qualities of the earth, which are attributed female characteristics. And while there are some similarities between both Andean and Splatsin understandings about the earth, the language I use to talk about human relationships with the land/environment throughout this work stems from the teachings of Splatsin Elders and Knowledge Keepers.
1.3 Situating myself within the research
As Indigenous or non-Indigenous researchers trained in disciplines such as anthropology (disciplines that emerged at the moment of European capitalist expansion), we are obligated to reflect critically on the foundations of our discipline. It is important that we confront the challenges created by the legacy of colonization in designing our research programs (Menzies 2001:23).
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Although I have briefly pointed out some of the critiques of the prioritization of Western knowledge within post-secondary institutions, I still in many ways feel fortunate that I am an anthropology student, a discipline that has taught me to think critically about colonialism. I have had the opportunity to learn from many professors, one of them being my adviser, who have brought their engagement with Indigenous issues to the classroom and in doing so, made explicit the past and ongoing experiences of colonization that Indigenous peoples continue to endure in
Canada. Prior to my own knowledge of and participation in the process of decolonizing anthropology as a graduate student, many of my professors were already engaging in decolonizing work. This took many forms including:
1) Giving land acknowledgements at the beginning of lectures as a way of verbally
acknowledging and paying respect to the ancestral and current territories of local
Indigenous groups.
2) Encouraging students to engage critically with issues concerning Indigenous peoples such
as land claims, treaty relationships, the importance of land and place, the ongoing history
of colonization in Canada, the missing and murdered Indigenous women, the impacts of
climate change on food security, etc.
Yet, Nishnaabeg scholar Leanne Simpson (2017:14) argues that thinking critically about colonialism is only part of the process of decolonizing because changing the relationship between the Canadian state and Indigenous peoples is a long-term process. This process requires being able to think within “Indigenous thought systems”—ways of knowing that are continually generated in relationship to place (Simpson 2017:13-14). Johnson (2016:44-46) proposes that making space for Indigenous alternative ways of thinking is one way to react to intellectual 9 colonialism and reaffirm Indigenous cultures and knowledges by respecting Indigenous worldviews and research frameworks.
Thus, challenging settler colonialism within my own research required learning to engage ethically and respectfully with Splatsin thought, theory and methodology in a research context, to think critically about the territories that I move within in my life, and to think closely about place, its stories, and teachings. It also pushed me to think of my own identity as a researcher and as a settler in this country and the implications of those identities while working with Indigenous communities. I fall into a grey area where identities of settler or Indigenous do not clearly apply to me within a Canadian context. I immigrated to Canada from Venezuela when I was about ten years old, so I came to settle on lands that are not the traditional territories of my people. In that s ns , I a a “s ttl r” in Canada. However, my family comes from the Andean region of
Venezuela, the mountainous state called Trujillo where the population is mostly of Mestizo, meaning they are of mixed African, Indigenous and European ethnicities. In that sense, I am
“Indig nous” in a Venezuelan context, if not in a Canadian context.
As a person from a family of “Indígenas-Andinos” (Indigenous peoples from the Andes),
Andean culture, beliefs and spirituality have partly shaped my identity and worldviews. My fa ily’s x ri n s of institutionaliz d ov rty, food ins urity, dis la nt, languag loss, forced Catholicisation and assimilation have influenced my understanding of Indigenous struggles for freedom, land-restitution and self-determination in the face of ongoing colonization.
Moreover, identifying as Indigenous in one place and a settler in another, gives me a unique perspective in that I am simultaneously experiencing my own displacement due to ongoing processes of colonial dispossession in Venezuela and ironically, participating in the occupation of Indigenous territories in what is now Canada. Thus, I am still constantly being challenged to 10 think of the privilege that comes from being a researcher and a settler while working with an
Indigenous community and moving through territories that are not my own.
Through the process of making sense of my own identity, I began to notice similarities b t n “settler-Indig nous” and “r s ar h r-r s ar h d” dichotomies through their ties to imperialism and injustice. Smith (1999:175-176) points out that in the past, researchers would come and research on, rather than with Indigenous communities. In this sense, a non-Indigenous researcher is very similar to a settler in that they both take on the roles of outsiders coming to
Indigenous territories without proper consent; invading their privacy and imposing on the community to try to gain knowledge or infor ation fro th “res ar h d”. This unethical exchange often resulted in researchers using Indigenous Knowledges to advance their own academic career, while the Indigenous community would either not benefit at all or be left worse off (Smith 1999).
Throughout this work, I, as many other Indigenous peoples and their allies have done before me, acknowledge some of the problems that exist in academia today as part of the many steps in decolonizing knowledge production. However, that is not to say that I do not find value in pointing out the many changes that anthropology has endured regarding its ethics, research methods and relationships with Indigenous peoples since its colonial beginnings. The fact that I was given the opportunity to form a research partnership with the Splatsin community, on their own terms, and reflect on this research in a way that is critical of my field and of academic institutions in general, shows me that there are conscious efforts to not repeat the harm caused by previous exploitative practices. As argued by Charles Menzies (2001:21), there is still a place for anthropological research with and for Indigenous communities, but this type of work will only 11 make meaningful contributions if Indigenous peoples lead the research and if anthropologists commit to taking part in the process of decolonization.
1.4 Research rationale
All life is sacred. And all life forms have spirit. When we destroy the land, we destroy other beings. We destroy Mother Earth. We violate the sacred connection that we have with her (Laboucan-Massimo 2017:39).
Mi’k aw scholar Pamela Palmater (2017:73) notes that Indigenous communities in what is now known as Canada, have experienced some of the most “ rolong d and violent genocidal acts” in history, which have reduced Indigenous populations by the millions. As argued by many
Indigenous activists, writers, and scholars, the murders of Indigenous men, women, two-spirited folks and children continue to be committed in the capitalist pursuit of wealth and power
(Simpson 2017; Palmater 2017; Manuel 2017). The burden of the devastating impacts of resource extraction through mining, hydroelectric facilities, oil and gas fields, and lumber mills for the benefit of international markets is disproportionately carried by Indigenous communities
(Coulthard 2013; Laboucan-Massimo 2017). Member of the Lubicon Cree First Nation, Melina
Laboucan Massimo, also points to the higher instances of violence—especially towards women, faced by Indigenous communities as further evidence of the damaging impacts of a patriarchal capitalist society (Laboucan-Massimo 2017). Indigenous scholars further suggest that when looking at the health and wellbeing inequities between Indigenous and non-Indigenous
Canadians, it becomes clear that the ongoing impacts of settler-colonialism are detrimental to the wellbeing, cultural, social and economic experiences of Indigenous peoples (Allan and Smylie
2015).
For many land-based communities the wellbeing of the land and the wellbeing of the people are one in the same. This is in part because of the understanding that the land is a part of social 12 and cultural identity (Parlee et al. 2005; Tobias 2015). Among Splatsin o l s, “th land” or tmicw,2 is oft n d s rib d as “Moth r”, or “Mother Earth”. “Two-legged ones” (humans), “four legged ones” (animals), “ones that crawl” (insects), “winged ones” (birds), rocks, and trees/plants/medicines, ar all born fro h r. H n , “land” is more like a broader notion of ecosystem; it includes specéc (air),3 sáwllkwa (water)4 and all other seen and unseen beings with whom we share the earth. Tmicw is a teacher. It is not only the foundation of all Secwépemc life, culture, and economics, but it also comprises a system of respectful, consensual and reciprocal relationships, which guide how Secwépemc peoples learn to coexist ethically with each other and with all non-human beings (Manuel 1974; Ignace and Ignace 2004).
In her work on Secwépemc storytelling as a form of language transformation, Secwépemc scholar Kathryn Michel (2012:53) outlines the concept k’wseltktnéws which translates to the notion of “ ar all r lat d” or “we are all fa ily” to contrast the Secwépemc value of interconnected family as opposed to the exploitive greed of colonial practices. The value of k’wseltktnéws not only extends to the relationship of human families but also to Secwépemc relationships to the natural world (p.53). Thus, all other-than-human beings that we share the earth with are seen as interconnected and valued as equals to humans:
The Secwépemc view of the earth and its resources as interrelated and inseparable from self was directly contradicted by the European view of resources as commodities to be extracted from the earth and sold to accumulate wealth (Michel 2012:53).
Late Secwépemc Elder and chief of the Neskonlith band, George Manuel makes a similar argument in his book The Fourth World. Manuel contrasts the Secwépemc view of
2 Tmicw is the Secwépemctsín (Shuswap language) word for “land”. This s lling as giv n by Randy Willia s during a personal communication. Throughout this work, not every instan of “land” is giv n as tmicw. 3 Specéc is th tsín ord for ‘air’. Randy Willia s gav this s lling during a rsonal o uni ation. Throughout this ork, not v ry instan of “air” is given as specéc. 4 Sáwllkwa is th tsín ord for “ at r”. John-Paul Thomas provided this spelling during a personal communication. Throughout this ork, not v ry instan of “ at r” is giv n as sáwllkwa. 13 interconnected family ties to the land and all the beings we share the land with to the capitalist perspective of the colonizers who saw the land as something to be owned and exploited for profit, writing,
The land from which our culture springs is like the water and the air, one and invisible. The land is our Mother Earth. The animals who grow on that land are our spiritual brothers. We are part of that Creation that the Mother Earth brought forth. More complicated, more sophisticated than the other creatures, but no n ar r to th Cr ator ho infus d us ith lif […] This is not th land that an b speculated, bought, sold, mortgaged, claimed by one state, surrendered or counter-claimed by another (Manuel 1974:6).
More broadly, for many generations Indigenous peoples relied entirely on the natural environment for survival. Through active participation and observation of the land, they acquired a deep and intimate knowledge of their lands, including knowledge on how to balance the use of resources in sustainable ways (Parlee et al. 2005; Michel 2012; Tobias 2015).
For Splatsin peoples, centuries of on-going colonization is at the heart of their displacement from traditional lands and the loss of cultural, linguistic, ecological and spiritual knowledge that accompanied that. Through conversations and interviews with Splatsin leaders and Knowledge
Keepers in the community, we were able to put together a list of the major forms of dispossession that have contributed to a loss of Splatsin traditional knowledges and the resulting negative impacts on individual and community wellbeing. These include: the residential school syst , th 60’s s oo , th hild welfare system, lack of access to sites of cultural importance due to private property, a decrease in the population size of essential animal species (particularly salmon), water and air pollution, resource development, and changes in climate and landscape.
1.5 Theoretical Framework: From a Western to an Indigenous Research Paradigm
Throughout this thesis, I apply environmental dispossession and (re)possession theories and
Indigenous Knowledge Systems—particularly Secwépemc ways of knowing—as theoretical 14 frameworks for understanding the connections between land-based lifestyles and Splatsin wellbeing. In combination, these theoretical frameworks contribute to both developing alternative ways to think about wellbeing and building strategies that support wellbeing by focusing on the many forms of Secwépemc resistance to colonial practices of dispossession.
1.5.1 Environmental dispossession
Dispossession—including the forceful removal of Indigenous peoples from traditional lands, loss of history, knowledge, language, culture, connection and identity that accompanied that combined with racist underfunding of reserves—has created an uneven burden of poor health outcomes amongst Indigenous communities in Canada (Richmond and Ross 2009; Greenwood and de Leeuw 2009; Parkes 2010). Richmond and Ross (2009), Big-Canoe and Richmond
(2014), and Tobias and Richmond (2014) introduced theories of “environmental dispossession” and “(re)possession” as frameworks for understanding the underlying causes of health inequities experienced by Indigenous communities, as well as the ways that Indigenous peoples resist processes of dispossession.
The theory of environmental dispossession states that colonial processes interrupt health- sustaining relationships with traditional lands. It emphasizes the importance of maintaining access and connections to traditional lands for Indigenous health and wellbeing (Richmond and
Ross 2009:404). From an environmental dispossession perspective, Tobias and Richmond (2014) argue that dispossession can occur through both direct and indirect processes. Direct processes are those which lead to physical separation from the land, including, but not limited to, things such as chemical dumping in rivers that are essential to Indigenous communities, introduction of railroads and highways, creation of private property, mining, and hydroelectric development
(Tobias and Richmond 2014; Tobias 2015). Indirect forms of dispossession destabilize the 15 relationship that Indigenous peoples have with the land through various forms of assimilation and acculturation (Tobias and Richmond 2014; Tobias 2015). One of the most common forms of indirect dispossession noted in the literature is the legacy of residential schools, the introduction of the Indian Act, the Sixties Scoop, child welfare, and other expressions of settler-colonialism
(Harris 2002; Tobias and Richmond 2014; Tobias 2015; Simpson 2017). Although the theory of
nviron ntal dis oss ssion us s th hras “indir t for s of dis oss ssion”, it is l ar that
Splatin peoples would not s thos ff ts as indir t. Wh n I us “indir t dis oss ssion” throughout this thesis, I am not implying that th s ff ts r any l ss har ful than “dir t” forms.
Richmond and Ross explain the complex damages to Indigenous culture, knowledges, identity, and spirituality caused by both direct and indirect forms of environmental dispossession, which stretch far beyond the removal of Indigenous peoples from the land, as follows:
In Canada’s early days, Aboriginal peoples were not only displaced physically, but they were also made subject to intensive missionary activity and the establishment of residential schools, the purpose of which was to assimilate Aboriginal peoples into mainstream Canada. These assimilationist activities undermined the social and cultural fabric that is central to Aboriginal identity, as they forbade families from sharing their cultural practices (e.g. dances, ceremonies, language, songs), many of which tied Aboriginal peoples to features of their traditional environments, such as water, plants, animals. Aboriginal people were also displaced politically, forced by colonial laws to abandon traditional governing structures and processes in favor of colonial style municipal institutions (Richmond and Ross 2009:404).
The ongoing legacy of environmental dispossession has profoundly up-rooted land-based ways of life, resulting in a disruption to social, cultural and spiritual practices, which have maintained Indigenous wellbeing for centuries (Tobias 2015). As highlighted by Indigenous researchers, the racism inherent in ongoing colonial practices has contributed to poor physical and mental health, high rates of substance abuse, youth suicide, food insecurity, unemployment, 16 poverty, unequal funding for housing and education, overrepresentation in child welfare and in incarceration, and homelessness (Allan and Smylie 2015).5 Furthermore, environmental dispossession has contributed to an erasure of knowledge about how to live from the land. The destabilization of Indigenous knowledge systems limits opportunities to observe, practice, and share knowledge about the land, which is at the core of the resiliency and wellbeing of
Indigenous communities (Tobias and Richmond 2014).
1.5.2 Environmental (Re)possession
The theory of environmental (re)possession states that Indigenous peoples resist dispossession by reclaiming their connections to culture and land in a way that supports the resiliency and wellbeing of Indigenous communities (Big-Canoe and Richmond 2014; Tobias
5 These are statements that Indigenous scholars have come to accept as true, but the following statistics help provide a bit more context. According to a publication by the Center for Suicide Prevention, the suicide rate for Indigenous male youth (age 15-24) is 126 per 100,000 compared to 24 per 100,000 for non-Indigenous male youth (2013). For Indigenous females (age 15-24) the suicide rate is 35 per 100,000 compared to 5 per 100,000 for non-Indigenous female youth (Center for Suicide Prevention 2013). However, it is important to note that not all Indigenous communities experience high rates of suicides amongst youth, Each Indigenous community is extremely diverse, some communities may have few or no suicides, while others like Inuit communities in the North of Canada experience some of the highest suicide rates in the world (Center for Suicide Prevention 2013). These rates are only partial representations, as they do not account for Indigenous youth suicide rates for the non-binary or two-spirited population. Particularly focusing on Indigenous peoples residing in urban centers, Belanger et al. (2013) state that 1 in 15 Indigenous people in urban centers experience homelessness compared to 1 in 128 for the Canadian population as a whole. Indigenous peoples are eight times for likely to experience homelessness than non-Indigenous Canadians (Belanger et al. 2013). These are alarming rates considering that Indigenous peoples represent just over 4% of the entire Canadian population (Canadian Observatory on Homelessness 2017). Rates of homelessness for Indigenous peoples vary greatly across Canada. For instance, according to the Canadian Observatory on Homelessness, in some Canadian cities such as Yellowknife or Whitehorse Indigenous peoples make up more than 90% of the homeless population, whereas in cities like Winnipeg an average of 50% of the people experiencing homelessness are Indigenous (2017). Indigenous women are particularly overrepresented among populations experiencing homelessness (Canadian Observatory on Homelessness 2017). Finally, a 2011 survey by Statistics Canada revealed that Indigenous children (ages 0-15) represent 49.1% of all children in foster care, despite only representing 7% of the total child population of this age group in Canada. Again, these statistics only provide a partial picture of homelessness, youth suicide and overrepresentation in child welfare among Indigenous populations because of the tendency to homogenize all experiences under one at gory of ‘Indig nous ho l ssn ss’ or ‘Indig nous youth sui id ’, for xa l , not a ounting for varying experiences due to age, gender, sexuality, on-reserve and off-reserve populations, and different experiences of colonization.
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2015). Recently, Big-Canoe and Richmond (2014) introduced the concept of environmental repossession as a framework for exploring how Indigenous peoples are reconnecting with traditional lands and the resulting positive changes to wellbeing that creates. Big-Canoe and
Richmond define environmental repossession as:
The social, cultural and political processes by which Indigenous peoples and communities are reclaiming their traditional lands and ways of life. This concept is root d ntrally in th id a that Indig nous o l s’ h alth, ays of living, and Indigenous knowledge systems are dependent on access to their traditional lands and territories (Big-Canoe and Richmond 2014:133).
As seen in the previous excerpts, the identities, cultures and ways of knowing of Indigenous peoples are intimately bound to their traditional lands. Thus, the health of the land and the health of the community are understood as synonymous. Throughout this dissertation, I draw on
Splatsin perspectives of changes in wellbeing, particularly in light of a decreased capacity to engage in, and pass on knowledge of, land-based activities. By drawing on environmental repossession theory, I also explore the many ways that Splatsin community members remain resilient to the ongoing acts of dispossession through the development of local strategies for revitalizing connections to land, community and cultural identity.
1.5.3 Indigenous Knowledge Systems
In this work, I prioritize Indigenous knowledge systems—ways of knowing about the world that are continually generated by Indigenous peoples in relationship to place—over Western syst s of kno l dg rodu tion, y t I shar a i s holar J l na Porsang r’s rs tiv that:
…indig nous a roa hes to research on indigenous issues are not meant to compete with, or replace, the Western research paradigm; rather, to challenge it and contribute to the body of knowledge of indigenous peoples about themselves and for themselves, and for their own needs as peoples, rather than as objects of investigation (Porsanger 2004:105).
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As previously mentioned, the process of decolonizing wellbeing entails engaging with knowledge systems that give voice to Indigenous traditions, rather than simply focusing on conceptualizations of wellbeing from the perspective of Western Science. Indigenous scholars such as Linda Tuhiwai Smith, Zoe Todd, Leanne Simpson, Glen Coulthard, Shawn Wilson, and many others, continue to push the boundaries of research in the academy, broadening the horizons of research to device methodologies that come from Indigenous worldviews.
The knowledge held by Indigenous peoples takes many forms among different communities and is often referenced in scholarly literature by a variety of names su h as “indig nous kno l dg ”, “traditional kno l dg ”, “indig nous s i n ”, “lo al kno l dg ”, “traditional
ologi al kno l dg ”, “place-bas d ground d nor ativity”, and so on. (McGregor 2012; Ryser
2012; Coulthard 2014; Whyte 2015; Kermoal and Altamiro-Jiménez 2016; Kimmerer et al.
2017; Simpson 2002; 2017). For instance, Yellowknives Dene scholar Glen Coulthard (2014) and Michi Saagiig Nishnaabeg scholar Leanne Betasamosake Simpson (2002; 2017) coined the t r “place-based ground d nor ativity” to broadly refer to Indigenous ways of knowing acquired through lived experiences in connection to the land. Simpson explains the strong relationship between Indigenous ways of knowing and the land as follows:
Our spiritualties, identities, languages, and systems of governance come from the land. The sustenance of our wisdom, worldviews, philosophies, and values comes the land. The source of our knowledge and our teachers themselves come from the land and the spirit-world it encompasses (Simpson 2002:15).
Yet, all forms of Indigenous Knowledges are dynamic, place-specific and culturally distinct and thus, inevitably take different forms among different communities and among different individuals. For this reason, it is almost impossible to use one of these generic terms to explain all forms of knowledge held by Indigenous peoples. For instance, Cree scholar Shawn Wilson
(2001) proposes that in order to move towards an Indigenous research paradigm one must engage 19 with nation-specific worldviews, cultural protocols, wisdom, language, and relationships.
Kovach (2006) further stresses that although Indigenous peoples share similar worldviews, each
Indigenous community or nation is unique and has its own knowledge that is particular and located in their respective landscapes, thus, it is important to set Indigenous research paradigms within specific nations.
Following the lead of Indigenous scholars before me, throughout this work, I emphasize the importance of incorporating knowledge systems that give voice to Indigenous traditions— particularly Splatsin ways of knowing—in an analysis of the interconnections between land, wellbeing and cultural resilience.
1.6 Research Design: towards a decolonized form of community engagement
1.6.1 Decolonizing Community Engagement
Community engagement, when done in a decolonizing way, is very much about building genuinely respectful relationships that will allow us to understand the nature and significance of Indigenous rights and worldviews in new and meaningful ways. In this sense, decolonizing community engagement means building community—a critical mass of Indigenous and non-Indigenous people that will hold governments, institutions, and industry accountable, ensuring that Indigenous rights are understood and upheld (Kornelsen 2017, blog post).
Indigenous scholars suggest that decolonization requires an understanding of how colonization has, and continues to, appropriate Indigenous lands, impacting Indigenous o l s’ societies and knowledge systems by imposing Western ones (Smith 1999; Simpson 2017). It also forces us to think about how we can unlearn colonial habits and learn to live together in a way that respects the earth and the livelihoods of Indigenous peoples (Simpson 2017; Kornerlsen
2017). D olonization is an a kno l dg nt that so all d “r on iliation” is not nough. W must do some serious self-reflection in order to transform colonial patterns of oppression, arrogance and appropriation. Throughout the time that I have been working with the Splatsin 20 community, one of my reoccurring concerns has been about how to do research that is truly r s tful, aningful and that s aks to th o unity’s on rns and n ds.
As one of the first steps in engaging ethically and respectfully with Splatsin peoples, my advisor Dr. Tad McIlwraith, contacted Elders and Knowledge Keepers of the Splatsin community and asked if it would be okay to have one of his students tag along with him on his next trip to Splatsin. He explained that I was a graduate student and that I was interested in the possibility of working with them on a project related to a lack of access to traditional territories and the resulting impacts on wellbeing. After getting approval from the community in February,
I took a trip to Enderby with Dr. McIlwraith to meet with a group of Splatsin Elders and some members of Chief and Council in May 2017. I spent two weeks in Splatsin. During that time, I attended two band meetings, where I introduced myself and expressed my desire of working with
Splatsin on a project that was relevant to community needs. I also had multiple conversations with Splatsin people outside of these meetings about my research interests, the research interests of the community, as well as how to best approach a collaborative project ethically and respectfully in alignment with local customs. At these band meetings, I met with six of eight members of Chief and Council, members of the Title and Rights Office, members of an Elders group, as well as other community members who were kind enough to have me hang around and learn from them. I particularly recall my long visits with Elder Julianna Alexander who spoke of decolonization, resistance, and land-based resiliency with a powerful intensity that continues to inspire me.
Essentially, I spent my first visit learning, listening, self-reflecting and trying to figure out what a decolonized community engaged project would look like for Splatsin. What were the concerns of the community? Did they even want to work with me on a research project? Would 21 this work be relevant to latsin o l s’ needs? How could this work bring about meaningful social change? Part of decolonizing community engagement with the Splatsin community has meant working in solidarity with Splatsin peoples, supporting their ongoing struggles to change unjust and inequitable colonial systems and institutions, and constantly self-reflecting to make sure that my actions were not causing harm to the people and community I work with. Centering the needs of the community meant doing work that actively supports Splatsin resistance and cultural resurgence. With the guidance and approval of the Splatsin community, I was able to
ov for ard ith this ork “in a good ay”, as th Eld rs ould say.
1.6.2 Community-based participatory research
A community-based participatory research approach framed this thesis to examine the links between wellbeing, culture and land among the Splatsin. In general, three values guide the work of community-based participatory research (CBPR): recognize and value the community as an equal partner in the process, research should be rooted in community interests and centered upon affecting social change (Delemos 2006; Kornelsen 2017). The CBPR approach emphasizes the participation of community members throughout all parts of the research through to the decisions about the sharing and publishing of research results (Delemos 2006; Castleden et al. 2012;
Stanton 2014). In order words, decision-making power and ownership of the results is shared equally between the researcher and the community involved (Castleden et al 2012). The CBPR method encourages co-learning and co-creation of knowledge as a way of taking part in meaningful and relevant research with Indigenous communities (Delemos 2006; Castleden et al.
2012). It has th ot ntial to addr ss th “o r ssiv , x loitativ l ga y, of r s ar h done on
Indig nous o l ” (Ja obson and Rug ly 2007:1467). 22
In keeping with the values and ethics of decolonized community engaged research throughout this project, the research topic, interview questions and direction of the research were developed through ongoing discussions with Splatsin Elders and Knowledge Keepers. This project took place in the Splatsin community, located on reserve lands adjacent to the City of
Enderby and across the Shuswap River. I feel extremely fortunate to have been welcomed into
Secwépemc ecw for various visits during this work, where I resided in Enderby (Indian Reserve
#2) for almost two months overall. During this time, I coordinated participant recruitment with the advice of Splatsin community members. With their help and the help of my advisor, I was able to meet the people I would later interview. While in Splatsin, I attended multiple community events, meetings and ceremonies where I had the opportunity to introduce myself to people, learn more about the community, take part in Splatsin culture, share stories, sing, play games, and form relationships that would later turn into friendships and research partnerships.
Interview questions (see Appendix A) were co-created with Splatsin partners to reflect important community issues such as concerns about lack of access to traditional territories, the impacts of environmental changes on community wellbeing, and the limited ability to practice and pass on knowledge about land-based activities. Following the suggestions of some amazing
Elders and community members, I was able to identify individuals who might be interested in being part of this project. Since the community is quite small, I was able to approach all the participants individually after I had met them at different community events, and ask them whether they would interested in collaborating with me on this project. I conducted 10 in-depth semi structured interviews with Splatsin Elders and community Knowledge Keepers of varying ages, fifty to seventy-eight, and of varying gender identities. Five of the ten participants were
Splatsin Elders (Julianna Alexander, Shirley Bird, Donna Antoine, Marie Thomas and Laura 23
William), two were members of Splatsin Chief and Council at the time (Edna Felix and Randy
Williams), one participant was also a community healer (Randy Williams), one was a former
Chief of Splatsin (Gloria Morgan), one was a community Knowledge Keeper doing cultural work for the Splatsin band office (Trina Antoine) and the final participant was a community
Knowledge Keeper with previous experience doing work for the fisheries department in Splatsin
(John-Paul Thomas). None of the participants chose to remain anonymous. The time length of the interviews varied from 45-60 minutes and participants chose the location of their interview.
As I said before, my focus on people of these age groups left out the voices of Splatsin youth, and adults below the age of fifty or above the age of seventy-eight. As such, this research can only provide a small glimpse at Splatsin perspectives of wellbeing and experiences of dispossessions. Yet, I purposefully chose this age group as a response to expressed concerns from community members that knowledge was usually only sought from Elders. Splatsin Elders also agreed that I interview some people in their fifties and sixties, as many people in the community who were not considered Elders had valuable knowledge to share that would contribute to this work. The purpose of the interview portion of the project was to explore
Splatsin connections to their traditional territories, the challenges of practicing land-based activities, Splatsin perceptions of wellbeing and community resilience in the face of ongoing dispossession. I found that the use of semi-structured interviews provided unstructured opportunities for Splatsin Elders and Knowledge Keepers to share their stories and decide the direction they wanted to take in their interview. The interviewing process evolved into something very organic. As the flow, location and questions changed with every person, interviewing became more like sharing stories rather than answering a fixed set of questions. Interviews were audio-recorded with the consent of each participant with only a few participants declining to 24 have their interview recorded. I took notes during most of the interviews, except for one. I learned a very interesting lesson from an Elder who stressed that note-taking was not necessary.
If the listener is supposed to remember what the person is sharing with them, they will remember. There is no need to write anything down, as the teachings will stay in your memory.
I conducted the interviews in English, with Elders sometimes speaking is Secwépemctsín
(language of the Secwépemc peoples) when introducing themselves or offering prayers.
Following cultural protocols of respect, meetings with participants usually began with an offering of tobacco or other forms of offerings considered appropriate for each individual.
Through previous consultation between my advisor and Splatsin members, an amount of $100 was decided upon as an appropriate honorarium to give to each participant as a way of further thanking them for their time. Interviews sometimes included a smudge as well as a prayer song, the sharing of food or tea, and many jokes. I quickly realized that the people I worked with love to laugh and have a great sense of humor making the whole experience that much more special and enjoyable.
1.6.3 Learning from the land through participant observation and field trips
Through my experiences working on a community-based project with Splatsin peoples, I learned that there is a very clear distinction between the perspectives of Western academia and
Splatsin peoples when it comes to defining “ o unity”. What I mean is that academic practices of community-based research emphasize “building community”, but a Western version of community is often restricted to the human community. From a Splatsin perspective,
“ o unity” incorporates the relationships one has with humans, the earth, and all other-than human beings (such as plants, animals, rocks, spirits) with whom we share the earth. So, in order to “build o unity” on also has to foster caring and respectful relationships with the land. 25
Through participant observation and field trips, I was able to spend time learning from the people, plants, medicines, animals, water, air and spirits of Secwépemc ecw. Field trips provided an opportunity for participants to share their experiences of being out on the land, not simply through words, but through other forms of sensory perception such as touch, smell, and sound. Conv rsations “in la ” as well as participant observation of land-based activities provided me an opportunity to observe how Splatsin peoples interact with Mother Earth. Splatsin interactions with their environments although very personalized and dynamic, did have one thing in common: respectful interactions with the land are based on the idea that the earth sustains all lif , and that “natural r sour s” ar not natural r sour s but gifts fro Tqeltk kukwpi7
(Creator) and from the earth (See Appendix B for more information on the knowledge gathering process).
For this project, building community meant gathering medicines with the Elders even if it required picking them from the side of a road that had been built in the middle of essential medicine picking spots; learning how to drum the Woman Warrior song by the river to offer prayers for the Missing and Murdered Indigenous women and girls; hiking through the forest and laying down an offering of tobacco after collecting cedar for a sweat lodge; smudging and passing the sacred pipe during a ceremony to pray for the endangered grizzly bear; and learning to can stew and make bannock for the families that were displaced after all the forest fires in
Secwépemc ecw. It meant going to places where ancestors lived, places where Sek’lep (Coyote) marked the land, places where deer, elk and bear live, and visiting spawning grounds, and nesting grounds. During field trips, we documented the devastating impacts that things like climate change, polluted waters, resource extraction, over-logging, and private property, have had on Splatsin territory. 26
Spending almost every day with a group of Elders and community members who had known their lands for their entire lives encouraged me to think about the sentience and interconnections of all beings on earth. It in many ways influenced how I perceive my responsibility to the territories that I move within and to all the beings that call those territories their home.
1.6.4 Ethical concerns
Given the growing awareness of previous experiences of unethical research practices involving Indigenous communities in Canada, and in an effort to minimize harm many
Indigenous and non-Indigenous organizations and funding agencies have released ethical statements, guidelines and policies. For instance, as a student at the University of Guelph undertaking a community-engaged project with an Indigenous community in Canada, the ethical position of my work is partly guided by chapter nine of the TCPS2 (Tri-Council Policy
Statement: Research Involving Humans). The ninth chapter of this document focuses on research involving First Nations, Inuit and Métis peoples of Canada and is framed as a response to previous unethical and damaging research conducted on rather than with Indigenous communities. The ethical guidelines of the TCPS2 (2014) place an emphasis on the importance of building respectful, trusting, consenting and ethical community relationships. This document also proposes that the main objectives of research with Indigenous communities should be to promote and enhance the capacity of Indigenous communities to maintain their cultures, languages, spiritualties and identities as Indigenous peoples, on their own terms (TCPS2 2014).
Beyond the responsibility of the researcher to the people one works with, the TCPS2 (2014) expresses the need to follow Indigenous protocols of ethics and respect which go beyond the protection of human beings and extend to the interconnections between humans and all the beings that make up the natural environment. This also includes the responsibility of the 27 researcher to ensure that Indigenous ways of forming and passing on knowledge are respected and prioritized (TCPS2 2014). Although this document is in many ways an attempt at decolonizing previous exploitative academic research, there are still some limitations of using the TCPS2 as the main guide for ethical conduct when working with Indigenous communities (I will reflect on these limitations in Chapter 4 of this thesis).
Brian Noble, a social anthropologist whose work focuses on decolonizing relations between
Indigenous peoples and settler Canada also provides similar recommendations for minimizing power imbalances within research relationships (2015). These include:
1) Entering respectfully into collaborative relationships with Indigenous peoples as
consenting and equal partners in the research, working to support issues that are relevant
to their communities, or to assert their knowledge and practices in relation to the land and
to others.
2) ‘ aking truth to o r’ by ritiquing and r ording o r asy tri s and instan s
of injustice faced by the communities one works with.
Beyond this, the need for consultation with Indigenous communities is extremely important when determining how to seek consent from the community and the individual in a manner that is culturally appropriate, and how to evaluate this process. For this project, I chose to get oral consent from participants, which can be justified through an acknowledgement of the available literature on carrying out the consent protocol with Indigenous communities (Smith 1999;
Baydala et al. 2013; McCabe et al. 2005). These studies emphasize the need to approach
Indigenous communities through governing bodies and leaders for consent prior to approaching individual participants. They also emphasize that there may be a power imbalance stemming from a non-Indigenous researcher or an outsider approaching an Indigenous person and asking 28 that person to sign a consent form that resembles a legal document (Smith 1999; Baydala et al.
2013; McCabe et al. 2005). The ethical guidelines outlined in these studies (Smith 1999; Baydala et al. 2013; McCabe et al. 2005) highlight the need for researchers to accommodate an oral tradition or cultural values in the consent process.
1.7 Research Gap and Objectives
Much of the literature related to the health and wellbeing of Indigenous peoples reveals that views about health and wellbeing are often dominated by the so- all d “Western” onstruction of health as the absence of disease. This understanding of health and wellbeing focuses on chronic and infectious diseases and related social problems, leaving out the voices and experiences of
Indigenous peoples (Wilson 2003; Parlee et al. 2005; Panelli 2007; Sarmiento Barletti 2016;
Ferraro and Sarmiento Barletti 2016). This is problematic when looking at the wellbeing of
Indig nous o uniti s for t o ain r asons. First, r s ar h about Indig nous o l s’ h alth and wellbeing in Canada usually lacks the adequate context related to the historical and ongoing impact of colonial policies and practices on the social determinants of health of Indigenous peoples (Allan and Smylie 2015). Thus, stories of Indigenous health status and wellbeing are often marked by racist stereotypes and assumptions about the poor health status of Indigenous peopl s as si ly b ing a r sult of “g n ti r d t r inations” (Allan and Smylie 2015; Noble
2015). Ignoring important social and environmental factors such as lack of access to health care services, impacts of climate change, food insecurity, unequal funding for services such as education and housing, inter-generational trauma, etc. (Allan and Smylie 2015; Noble 2015).
Second, researchers and policy makers trained within the paradigms of Western Science have long devalued the knowledge systems of Indigenous peoples as if they are somehow separate from what is considered scientific knowledge. Yet, many Indigenous and non-Indigenous 29 scholars are exploring the importance of valuing diverse knowledge systems in order to meet the challenges of climate change, food security, health and wellbeing, poverty, environmental degradation, and sustainability (McGregor 2012; Ryser 2012; Whyte 2015; Kimmerer et al.
2017). Thus, there is an established need to challenge the hegemony of Western knowledge and reaffirm Indigenous Knowledge Systems as alternative and valid forms of knowing about the world (Smith 1999; Menzies 2001; Coulthard 2014; Kermoal and Altamirano-Jiménez 2016;
Simpson 2017). This means that in order to understand what wellbeing might look like for
Indigenous communities, researchers must engage with, prioritize and incorporate the voices and experiences of Indigenous people as equal partners in the research process. In response to this, a community-based participatory research approach framed this project conducted in collaboration with various members of the Splatsin community as a way towards decolonizing wellbeing research.
Furthermore, understandings of wellbeing among Indigenous peoples differ greatly from
Western perspectives. Wellbeing for Splatsin peoples, for example, has to do with the ability to live from the land, maintaining a strong sense of cultural identity, the nature of social and spiritual relations with land, community and non-human beings, as well as the body. The
Splatsin idea of “wellbeing” translates as la7 meaning “good” or as la7 sumac, aning “living a good lif ” or, as some community members put it, “walking good on arth”. As mentioned previously, strong connections with traditional lands created the foundation for Indigenous ways of knowing, including the multiple ways that Indigenous peoples understand health and illness.
These approaches to understanding wellbeing are holistic, incorporating spiritual, mental, emotional and physical elements. In ord r for a rson to “b ll” or la7, one must find a balance between all four of these elements and do so in a way that honors and respects all of 30 creation. By characterizing health and wellbeing in this way, access to traditional territories provides benefits to wellbeing beyond the provision of the basic nutritional resources for survival. The ability to be out on the land, following traditional protocols of respect and reciprocity, is essential for maintaining harmony and balance among all of the elements that contribute to wellbeing (Tobias 2015).
Although it is clear that the land has significant value to the wellbeing of Indigenous peoples, this relationship has received limited consideration within the available literature. It is only in recent years that the relationship between the wellbeing of the people and the wellbeing of the environment has received academic attention (Wilson 2003; Parlee et al. 2005; Panelli and Tipa
2007; Tobias and Richmond 2014; Tobias 2015; Sarmiento Barletti 2016). More specifically, studies regarding the wellbeing of Splatsin peoples in the context of dispossession are either non- existent or extremely limited. Hence, what is still missing from the literature, and what this project seeks to address is an understanding of wellbeing from Splatsin perspectives and of the impacts of dispossession on wellbeing. Through an engagement with environmental dispossession and (re)possession theories, this project calls for a broadening of conceptualizations of wellbeing in order to explore a place-based notion of wellbeing that recognizes the links between culture, and environment in shaping wellbeing practices and beliefs. The hope is to create Splatsin counter-narratives to the normalized Western understandings of wellbeing.
1.8 Overview of chapters
Four chapters make up this thesis. Chapter 2 provides a review of the relevant literature from Secwépemc activists and scholars who have written about their own community. This chapter introduces the Splatsin peoples including their territorial boundaries, language, ways of 31 creating knowledge, traditional subsistence activities and ties to traditional territories. I also explore the transmission of Splatsin Knowledges through the re-telling of Sek’lep (Coyote) stories. Next, I examine the connections between the health inequities experienced by Indigenous peoples and the ongoing practices and policies of colonialism. This chapter concludes by drawing on interview material to express Splatsin-specific experiences of direct and indirect forms of environmental dispossession.
Chapter 3 delves into place-based perspectives of Splatsin wellbeing maintained via cultural activities. I review relevant literature from two disciplines: health geography and anthropology of wellbeing, to explore connections between land, cultural continuity and wellbeing. This chapter provides a detailed explanation of Splatsin perceptions of holistic wellbeing as outlined by the medicine wheel. I draw on interviews with Splatsin Elders and Knowledge Keepers to explore the relationships between land, culture and wellbeing, and make connections between the impacts of environmental dispossession and health inequities. This chapter concludes with a discussion of environmental (re)possession by outlining Splatsin strategies for land-based resiliency.
Chapter 4 provides a discussion of the main findings and contributions of this work.
Also included in this chapter is a reflection of the challenges of applying a community based participatory research within the academy.
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Chapter 2: Secwépemc Place-based Knowledges and the Impacts of Dispossession 2.1 Introduction
In this chapter, I draw on the knowledge of various Secwépemc scholars and activists including Ron Ignace, Arthur Manuel, George Manuel, Kanahus Manuel, Mary Thomas,
Dorothy Christian, Janice Billy, Bev Sellars and Kathryn Michel, to present a Secwépemc perspective on the relationships with their land—Secwépemc ecw, their community, and each other. I would like to take this time to acknowledge the incredible influence of Secwépemc women in this project. Much of my inspiration and guidance has come from amazing
Secwépemc women who have been writing, teaching and talking about cultural resurgence for years, and in some cases, decades. In my search for scholarship that prioritized the voices of
Secwépemc peoples, I was pleased to find that a lot of the available literature was from women who have done research for themselves, about themselves, and on their own terms as a way of decolonizing knowledge production within academia.
I begin with an introduction of the Splatsin including their territory, seasonal rounds, harvesting practices, language, oral histories and stewardship of their land—including the ways
o l s think of th land’s history, ology and its living b ings. Next, I outline major events in the history of colonization in Secwépemc ecw, explaining how settler colonialism has, and continues to affect and interfere with Secwépem o l s’ a a ity to liv from the land. I then frame the discussion of environmental dispossession due to the ongoing violence of colonialism from a Splatsin perspective by drawing on my interviews with Splatsin
Elders and Knowledge Keepers.
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2.2 Who are the Splatsin?
Figure 1 ap of Secwépemc ecw (Secwépemc Territory)
Source: Ignace and Ignace (2017:18)
The Splatsin Indigenous people are the southern-most group of the Secwépemc community.
They are salmon fishers who live along the Shuswap River in the Fraser River watershed on 34 reserve lands near the city of Enderby, British Columbia (Shuswap Nation Tribal Council 2017).
It seems to be agreed upon in th lit ratur that th ord “ ” means “s r ad-out
o l ” (Ignace 1998; Ignace and Ignace 2004; Ignace et al. 2016; Shuswap Indian Band 2008).
The Secwépemc are the largest interior Salish-speaking community in Canada and their territory or Secwépemc ecw, covers about 156,000 square kilometers in the south-central area of what is now known as British Columbia (Ignace and Ignace 2004). Three separate reserves make up
Splatsin territory, Chlcal or “ al on Riv r” (Indian Reserve #1), Splatsin or “End rby” (Indian
Reserve #2) and Sek’emaws or “ i a ous” (Indian Reserve #3).6 As stated on the Splatsin band
bsit , “ latsin” is ronoun d “sblaj n” and translat s as “th riv rbanks”, which is indicative of where Splatsin peoples lived along the Shuswap River (2017). The area of
“ ar tak r r s onsibility”7 for the Splatsin has traditionally included the Eagle, Salmon and
Shuswap Rivers (Shuswap Nation Tribal Council 2017). The Shuswap River was particularly important to the community for the purposes of traveling from village to village and through its provision of bountiful food gathering areas for the community (Shuswap Nation Tribal Council
2017).
The language spoken by Splatsin peoples is Secwépemctsín. There are two dialects of
Secwépemctsín: Eastern (East of Kamloops) and Western (West of Kamloops) with minor differences between the two (Michel 2012). In 1909, James Teit, an anthropologist who worked with Franz Boas to learn more about Interior Salish Indigenous groups, described what he called
“the various tribal division” of the Secwépemc peoples as having a particular land base and
6 Chl al, latsin and k’ a s ar th na s in tsín ( hus a languag ) for a h of th thr reserves that make up Splatsin territory as stated on the Splatsin band website (2018). 7 Th hras “ar a of ar tak r r s onsibility” r f rs to th t rritory that is r ogniz d as latsin’s common hunting, trapping and fishing grounds. Although all parts of Secwépemc Territory are accessible to the entire Nation, each band has its own common grounds that they are responsible for taking care of. See pages 30-31 for a or in d th dis ussion of land st ardshi or “ ar tak rshi .”
35 dialect (p.462-463). The seven “tribal divisions” recorded by Teit (1909) are the Fraser River division, the Canon division, the Lake division, the North Thompson division, the Bonaparte division, the Kamloops division, and the Shuswap Lake division. The Splatsin are part of the
Shuswap Lake division and originally spoke the Eastern dialect but are now moving towards a
Western dialect.
2.2.1 Traditional Secwépemc subsistence practices
Historically, most Secwépemc peoples maintained a nomadic lifestyle during their annual seasonal round and relied on fishing, hunting, berry picking, root digging and cambium collecting at different locations for subsistence (Ignace 1998). The annual subsistence cycle for the community began in spring, when a large number of Secwépemc families from different villages would travel to highland lakes as soon as the ice broke, to catch cutthroat and rainbow trout with scoop nets (Ignace 1998; Ignace and Ignace 2004; Ignace et al. 2016). Throughout the year, fish were caught for immediate consumption and winter use (Ignace 1998). The
Secwépemc community is known primarily as salmon fishers because salmon was a primary source of food supply for all the people living along the Fraser and Thompson River watersheds
(Dawson 1891). Salmon were caught using a variety of methods—dip nets (stúkwtsen), gaffs
(upˈs) three-pronged spears (wewtsk), single or double harpoon spears (meníp), fishing weirs
(mu7), traps and dams (tselmiń)—depending on the particular species and nature of the river
(Ignace and Ignace 2016:30). In terms of hunting, the main sources of meat were elk, deer, caribou, mule deer, moose, mountain goats, mountain sheep and black bear (Ignace 1998; Ignace and Ignace 2004). Bows and arrows were the main tools used for hunting before the introduction of firearms during the nineteenth century (Ignace 1998; Ignace and Ignace 2004). Hunting expeditions would last about two to three weeks at a time, so hunters and their families would 36 establish a base camp, where the rest of the family would gather plants, snare small game and
artially dry th at fro th hunt r’s kills (Igna and Igna 2016). Various plants and roots were harvested in large quantities in the late spring including scwicw (Erythronium grandiflorum, Avalanche lily); tséts’elq (Balsamorhiza sagittata, Balsamroot or spring sunflower); llekw’pín (Lewisia redeviva, Bitterroot); textsíń (Lilium lancifolium, Tiger lily); and skwenkwínem (Claytonia lanceolata, Spring beauties or “Indian potatoes”) (Ignace and Ignace
2016:35-36).
In addition to roots, Secwépemc people harvested a variety of different nuts and fruits in the summer months. These included different types of speqpéq (berries) like speqpeqéllp
(Amelanchier alnifolia, Saskatoon berries), sesép (Vaccinium spp., Blueberries), yegmín
(Vaccinium spp., Huckleberries), tkwlóse7 (Prunus virginiana, Chokecherries), elk
(Arctostaphylos uva-ursi, Kinnikinnick berries)—which were fried in bear grease, tqít’qe
(Fragaria spp., Strawberries), s7éytsqwem (Rubus idaeus, Raspberries), and sxúsem (Shepherdia
Canadensis, Soapberry)—which was either made into a thirst-quenching beverage high in
Vitamin C, or whipped to mak “Indian i r a ” (Nicholas et al. 2016:83-85; Ignace et al.
2016:35-37). Great care was taken to preserve the plants and roots harvested in the summer for consumption during the long winter months ahead (Ignace and Ignace 2004). An essential aspect of all resource gathering was that the sharing of resources and labor, everybody had a job to contribute and all resources gathered were shared equally amongst the community (Ignace et al.
2016). The way that all members of the community—including young children—would share resources and jointly provide for their families is expressed in Secwépemctsín as knucwentwécw or “h l ing on anoth r” (Igna t al. 2016:43). 37
Many of these plants, roots, berries and animals provided by the land and obtained through traditional subsistence activities were, and continue to be consumed for nutritional purposes as well as healing purposes among the Secwépemc (Ignace 1998; Ignace and Ignace 2004; Ignace et al. 2016). Yet, many of these traditional food-harvesting practices have drastically changed due to various processes of colonialism.
2.2.2 Secwépemc stewardship of the land
The importance of respecting and taking care of the land and all the other-than human beings we share the land with was also essential to the survival of land-based peoples. For instance, plant-harvesting techniques required careful “stewardship” or yecwmen ecwem,8 such as land burning to create nutrients for new growth (Ignace and Ignace 2016:36). Peacock et al. define
“traditional r sour st ardshi ” as:
The cultural accumulation and development of knowledge, practices, institutions, and philosophies that sustain and enhance productivity of resources and the integrity of ecosystems occupied and used by humans (Peacock et al. 2016:178).
Although Teit (1909:572) understood the Secwépemc peoples as having seven divisions consisting of distinct hunting grounds, he stressed that the Secwépemc conceived of
Secwépemc ecw as “tribal ro rty” to b shar d and tak n ar of oll tiv ly by th entire
Nation. Teit describes Secwépemc land tenure as “ o on tribal ro rty” or the collective sense of tribal ownership of the land and its resources as follows:
All the land and hunting grounds were looked upon as tribal property all parts of which were open to every member of the tribe. Of course, every band had its common recognized hunting, trapping and fishing places, but members of other bands r allo d to us th h n v r th y d sir d…Fishing la s r also tribal property, including salmon-stations… At th lak s v ryon had th privilege of trapping trout and erecting weirs (Teit 1909:572).
8 ecwmen ecwem can also roughly translat as “taking ar of th land” in tsín and is described as a “foundational on t r s ting land anag nt in ” in th book Secwépemc Land and Resources: Law Research Project (Asch et al. 2016:196). 38
Yet, T it’s (1909:572) d s ri tion of Secwépemc ecw as “tribal ro rty” does not have the same meaning as a capitalist understanding of land ownership. For instance, Marianne and Ron
Ignace x lain th id a of “tribal ro rty” as:
A tribal, or nationwide, system of land tenure and access to resources, with the chiefs of local bands, on behalf of their communities, acting as resource stewards, or caretakers, for the benefit of all people of the nation. Thus, it was not the Indig nous o uniti s or “bands,” that had x lusiv rights ov r r sour s; rather, by descent or blood, all the members of a nation had access to the resources within the nation. Local communities, headed by their chiefs and specially appointed resource stewards, called yecwmíʼnmen,9 were considered to be the caretakers of the resources and tracts of land where people lived (Ignace and Ignace 2017:282).
Thus, rather than owning the land in a capitalist sense, it is or lik b ing “st ards” of the territories one moves within, or having areas of caretaker responsibility assigned to each division
(Ignace and Ignace 2004:428). The late Neskonlith Elder Mary Thomas further explains how the collective care of the land facilitated the value of sharing for Secwépemc peoples.
We always prayed and we shared. We even shared with the neighboring communities. And children growing up with that knowledge, you became kind, considerate, because nobody owned, privately owned, anything. That was the way of my people (Thomas 2001:20).
Ignace and Ignace also note the intimate knowledge about the land required to maintain a ro riat ra ti s of “r sour ar tak rshi ”:
Resource caretakership involves a complex set of (or dialectic relation between) resource gathering practices and a system of knowledge and beliefs. Ethnobiologists refer to this as traditional ecological knowledge and wisdom (TEKW). At the core of the cognitive dimension of Secwépemc TEKW is our an stors’ and th r s nt g n ration’s r lationshi ith th land, aintain d through “stori d kno l dg ” about th land, inti at ly onn t d to our languag (Ignace and Ignace 2004:428).
9 ecwmíʼnmen is th ord for “ ar tak rs” giv n by Mariann and Ron Igna (2016:47; 2017:282). Th r is a latsin ord for “ ar tak rs of th land” giv n as yucwmenlúcwu on the Splatsin band website which could also apply here. https://www.splatsin.ca/businesses/yucwmenl%C3%BAcwu-caretakers-of-the-land 39
The traditional management of resources is said to be directly tied to the traditional knowledge held by Secwépemc peoples and thus, is embedded within Secwépemc language, worldviews, relationships to place, oral traditions, teachings and spiritual and cultural beliefs (Peacock et al. 2016). As Secwépemc people travelled and lived in the various ecological zones of their territory, they developed a deep understanding of their landscapes, which they commemorated in stories and handed down from generations
(Ignace and Ignace 2016). Secwépemc stories, or stspetékwll,10are directly tied to the land and include Secwépemc history, landforms, cultural practices, values, and lessons on how to be a moral human (Ignace and Ignace 2004; Ignace 2008; Ignace and Ignace 2016;
Billy 2009; Michel 2012). Place names are also an i ortant ay of trans itting “stori d kno l dg ” about the land (Ignace and Ignace 2004:428). Places were given names through observation, authentic experiences and daily participation in land-based activities to either commemorate the landscape or to commemorate past events, the oral history connected to the landscape (Ignace and Ignace 2004; Billy 2009).
2.2.3 Secwépemc relationship to place
Igna t al. (2016:445) highlight th i ortan of th r lationshi of “r ciprocal a ountability” b t n hu ans and th land, x r ss d as x7ens’qt, translated by Secwépemc
ld rs as, “th land (and sky) ill turn on you.” ld rs b li v that x7ens’qt r r s nts th la s that d fin d th as and gav th th “ qui nt for living as
10 Stspetékwll is th tsín ord for “oral histori s” giv n by Ronald and Marianne Ignace in the book Secwépemc People and Plants: Research Papers in Shuswap Ethnobotany (2016:27). However, Ignace (2008:21) sugg sts that th t r “oral histori s” in lud s an i nt origin stori s and r ount d histori s of th an stor’s us of land. Furthermore, Ignace (2008:36) makes a distinction between stspetékwll as “ ythi al story” or “l g nd,” as opposed to slexéỳem or “hand d do n story or x ri n ”. Throughout this diss rtation, I ill us th term stspetékwll as the word to describe “ancient oral histories” or “stories” when speaking about ancient origin stories of th an stors in luding o rful transfor rs su h as k’l (Coyot ), ho trav ll d a ross th landscape transforming things into their present-day form.
40 a o l ” (Igna t al. (2016:445). X7ens’qt expresses the need to respect places on the land that are imbued with spiritual power which derives from the past events and experiences (deeds) of the ancestors, plants, and animals (Ignace et al. 2016:445). These deeds are a source of power that rests in nature—particularly in the places visited by the ancestors—and will secure the protection of present Secwépemc generations lest they disrespect the land by neglecting or violating their responsibility to protect it (Ignace 2008; Ignace et al. 2016). Ignace (2008:218) str ss s that th s la s “ ontinu to b di in s that an a t on us. Th y an har us h n we treat them with disrespect or carelessness. They will benefit us when we treat them with r s t.” Igna (2008:218) furth r sugg sts that all arts of th nviron nt for a
“s nti nt lands a ”, ro osing that th o l “ o uni at ith its o rs, and it
o uni at s ith us.” Thus, this relationship of reciprocal accountability is at the root of knowledge about sustainable harvesting practices held by the Secwépemc; allowing them to live in harmony and balance with all of creation.
The harvesting of all things in nature for survival also required prayers to give thanks to
Tqeltk kukwpi711 (Creator) for providing the animal or plants that feed people and the medicines to heal themselves, and to give thanks to all of Creation for giving themselves to humans (Ignace
2008:215-217). Prayers often involved a gift to the plants, animals and Creator in the form of an offering of tobacco scattered on the ground, which is a way of communicating with the spiritual world (Ignace 2008). Furthermore, Secwépemc teachings strongly stressed the need to share food and other resources with the entire community and warned of the dangers of being “stingy” or xwexwiyélesem (Ignace and Ignace 2016:45). Fishers and hunters who did not follow the ethical
11 Tqeltk kukwpi7 is the Secwépemctsín word for “Cr ator” or “Old on ”. The Creator is onsid r d th “ hi f of th an i nt orld” who sent powerful transformers to make the world safe for humans to live in and who reminds humans to be respectful of all living things, as stated by Ron Ignace in his unpublish d do toral diss rtation “Our Oral Histories Are Our Iron Posts: Secwepemc Stories and Historical Cons iousn ss” (2008:215). 41 and oral roto ols of food sharing ould “not only r iv so ial san tions, but also experience spiritual sanctions from the animals, who would subsequently refuse to give th s lv s to th ” (Igna and Igna 2016:45). Similarly, Michel (2012) proposes that the
Secwépemc worldview is grounded in respectful and reciprocal relationships between humans and all the beings that make up the natural environment. As stated by Michel:
Traditional Secwépemc way of life was based on the land. Our practical needs— food, medicine, technology, social and political organization, kinship, and spirituality were interconnected and interdependent. Our worldview necessitated a practical and spiritual respect for the people, land, water, air, animals, plants, celestial bodies, and the spiritual realm. Upholding our responsibilities ensured a balanced and harmonious relationship with people, land and the spiritual realm and ensured our survival for thousands of years (Michel 2012:3).
As such, maintaining strong connections with traditional territories provides Secwépemc peoples with the social, cultural and spiritual resources required to resist the threats posed by dispossession and its resulting negative health impacts. Traditionally, it is the role of community
Elders to pass on these teachings to younger generations. For example, by taking their grandchildren berry picking, Elders share teachings that not only show the proper ways to pick berries, but also emphasize the importance and practice of showing proper respect for the plants.
This includes teachings on how to talk to the plants and thank them for giving their lives to them so that they may survive, as well as the importance of not over-picking, only taking what they need to ensure that the berries will not be depleted for all other-than-human beings who rely on th s lants. Prior to th olonization of hat is no kno n as ‘Canada’ by Euro an s ttl rs, these strong ties to land allowed healthy Indigenous communities to thrive. However, there are many challenges to the practice of sharing this knowledge due to ongoing colonial dispossession, resulting in devastating impacts to the wellbeing of Splatsin peoples. Throughout this work, I will highlight the importance of passing on Splatsin knowledge of spiritual and practical respect 42 for the land, water, air, animals, plants and medicines for the maintenance and re-establishment of healthy, land-based communities.
2.2.4 Introducing Sek’lep (Coyote) as a Secwépemc way of knowing about the world
At the beginning, the earth was very small, but it gradually became larger, rging or and or fro th at rs… Th o l ho inhabit d th arth during this period partook of the characteristics of both men and animals. They were called s ta’kul [stspetékwll]. Some were cannibals. At that period many kinds of animals, birds, and fishes did not exist, nor many kinds of trees, plants and berries. The earth was much troubled with great winds, fires and floods. In those days the Old-One…s nt Coyot to travel over the world and put it to rights. He was gifted with magical power beyond that of all the other mythological beings, and had great knowledge and cunning; yet often he proved himself to be selfish, lazy, and vain, doing many foolish and bad tricks. In fact, he was fond of amusing himself and playing tricks on other people. Nevertheless he did a great deal of work which benefited people, and did away with many evil beings. Although Coyote was a long time on earth and travelled all over it, yet he left much of his work undone. Probably his greatest work was introducing the salmon into the rivers, and the making of fishing-places. All the best fishing-places on the larg riv rs r ad by hi …Th Old-One of was the chief of the ancient world, and finished the work of Coyote and other transformers, leaving the earth in the way we see it at present. He travelled in the form of an old man, but sometimes he changed his appearance. He was all-powerful in magic, and always abl to do hat h took in hand…He made transformations wherever he thought they were required. He flattened the land in some places, and raised it in other places. Where it was too dry, he made lakes; and where there was too much water, h ad it dry… H introdu d trout into any of th streams and lakes, and ordered salmon to ascend new rivers. He made many new kinds of trees, bushes and plants to grow in places where they were required. He introduced certain kinds of animals, such as the deer, elk, bear and hare, and told them to multiply. Before that, they had lived all together in their own worlds, underneath the ground. He told the people to be respectful to them, use them properly, and not make them angry. At that time the people were all poor and foolish, and he taught them what kinds of animals, fishes, and roots to eat. He also taught them many methods of catching, procuring, and preserving food, and how to make certain tools and weapons. He introduced sweat-bathing and smoking, and taught the people how to make baskets, snowshoes and canoes. He transformed the remaining bad people into animals, birds, fishes and rocks (Secwépemc Creation Story as retold by Teit 1909:595-596).
In the past, Secwépemc Elders were responsible for passing on language and culture though the oral tradition to ensure cultural continuity (Billy 2015). One of the ways they did this was 43 through the dynami r t lling of stori s of th “Tri kst r” or Sek’lep (Coyote) and other powerful transformers to interpret human experience (Sandy 1987; Archibald 2008; Michel
2012; Billy 2015). The Secwépemc Creation Story provides insights into Secwépemc history, values, spiritual beliefs and ways of knowing and being in the world (Michel 2012; Billy 2015).
Secwépemc stories of Sek’lep/Trickster often place Trickster in a journeying mode as they learn about cultural values of respect, responsibility and reciprocity the hard way. Trickster often gets into trouble when he/she/they violates or ignores cultural rules and practices or gets caught up in so of th n gativ as ts of “hu ann ss” such as greed, selfishness, and vanity (Archibald
2008; Michel 2012; Billy 2015). Yet, as noted by Secwépemc scholar Kathryn Michel, Sek’lep’s
“ability to boun ba k aft r on fatal rror aft r anoth r, h l s us s that it’s okay to ak
istak s” (2012:10).
Secwépemc storytelling or stspetékwll, including the retelling of stories about Sek’lep, articulate important community values, proper ethical and spiritual behavior, laws of land and resource stewardship, and teachings about the interconnectedness of the human, animal, and plant world to younger generations (Michel 2012:7). Secwépemc scholars who have written about oral traditions emphasize the ability of stories to reconnect people with the land (Ignace
2008; Michel 2012; Billy 2015; Christian 2017). Some stspetékwll explain how landforms in
Secwépemc ecw came to be, some teach young ones about place names of the local community, others emphasize important lessons about how to live from the land and care for it (Michel
2012). Th t a hing of “holis ” ithin storyt lling is arti ularly i ortant as it is at promotes values of respect, balance, and reciprocity central to building strong communities.
Splatsin Elders often stressed that holism not only means having balance between all four components of wellbeing (physical, emotional, spiritual, and mental), it also requires being in 44 balance with the environment by nurturing respectful and caring relationships with all the beings on earth. Similarly, Jo-Ann Ar hibald (2008) argu s that to a hi v “holis ” one must understand cultural teachings of the interrelatedness of all beings and follow appropriate codes of behavior. Thus, how Sek’lep or Trickster sees the world and comes to make sense of it through interrelationships is critical to understanding the lessons of Secwépemc storytelling (Michel
2012; Billy 2015). The teaching of holism within Secwépemc storytelling as a way to symbolize wholeness, balance, harmony and ultimately wellness, is also represented through the medicine wheel and is central to Splatsin understandings of wellbeing.
These cultural teachings embedded within Secwépemc stories, shape Secwépemc identity as caretakers of the land and emphasize that humans are only a small part of all creation.
Secwépemc storytelling not only serves the purpose of regenerating cultural traditions and passing on important cultural values, but also works against dominant colonial perceptions of
‘valid’ knowledge. For Splatsin peoples, teaching and learning through stspetékwll is a direct act of resistance against colonialism and the loss of Splatsin ways of knowing that accompanies that.
2.2.5 The attempted erasure of Secwépemc peoples from Secwépemc ecw
The voices of our ancestors continue to call out to us, telling us that it is all about th land: al ays has and al ays ill b …g t it ba k, go ba k to it. W hav fought for the land and for our connection to it. For five hundred years, it is this struggle to restore the living relationship between our ancestors, our land and ourselves that has defined us as Indigenous people, and it is this struggle that has ensured our survival in the face of ignorance and violence (Alfred 2017:11).
In the following paragraphs, I briefly outline major events in the history of colonization in
Secwépemc ecw, beginning with a sketch of the 19th century processes of dispossession and then proceeding to the 20th century. I then draw on my interviews with Splatsin Elders and
Knowledge Keepers to outline Splatsin experiences of dispossession. 45
The first memory of a séme7 (white person) European coming to Secwépemc ecw recorded in history was that of Alexander Mackenzie in 1793 (Ignace and Ignace 2017:426). On his journey to finding the Pacific Ocean, Mackenzie travelled down the land of the Dakelh (Carrier), briefly crossing Northern Secwépemc territory. Despite this notable and remembered event,
Ma k nzi ’s journey left little impact on the Secwépemc (Ignace 2008; Billy 2009). In 1846, without the input or consent of Indigenous peoples, representatives of Britain and the United
States signed the Oregon Boundary Treaty establishing the 49th parallel as the boundary between
US-claimed and British-claimed territories, cutting across existing Indigenous territorial boundaries (Ignace and Ignace 2017:434). Britain claimed Vancouver Island and mainland territories north of the 49th parallel, asserting jurisdiction over the territory that is now known as
British Columbia (Billy 2009).
The guidelines for European settlement of Indigenous territories set out by Royal
Proclamation of 1763, explicitly state that Aboriginal title has existed and continues to exist and that all land should be considered Aboriginal land until ceded by treaty or through purchase by the British Crown (Billy 2009). During the early 1850’s, as Van ouv r Island had b n established as a British colony, Governor James Douglas engaged in a series of Treaties with
Indigenous groups in Vancouver Island (Ignace 2008). Douglas engaged in fourteen treaties, known as The Douglas Treaties, by buying land for European settlement in exchange for blankets and other trade items, while respecting Aboriginal title over unceded lands (Ignace
2008:235). During the time of the Douglas Treaties, the Mainland was not yet a colony and the
Crown had apparently run out of money to settle further treaties with Indigenous groups (Ignace
2008). Many of the Indigenous inhabitants of British Columbia had never ceded the vast 46 majority of their territories. Yet, the colonial governments of British Columbia and Canada continued to assert control and ownership over Secwépemc territory (Billy 2009).
Major changes to traditional Secwépemc life truly began with the influx of non-native immigrants to Secwépemc ecw in the late 1850s due to the Fraser River Gold Rush (Ignace
1998). Prior to this, Secwépemc peoples were the sole inhabitants of their traditional territories and had relatively peaceful relations with neighboring communities (Billy 2009). This influx of foreign gold miners, not only interfered with salmon fishing in the Fraser River, but it also introduced foreign and unknown diseases to the Secwépemc, such as the smallpox epidemic of the 1860s, which led to the death of about one third of the population (Ignace 1998; Ignace and
Ignace 2017). Of the twenty-five bands of the Secwépemc community existing prior to the
1860’s, only s v nt n r ain (Igna 1998).
With a debilitated population of Secwépemc peoples, settlers were more easily able to claim and occupy lands that were once populated by the Secwépemc (Ignace 1998; Ignace 2008; Billy
2009). In 1858, due to the massive influx of foreign miners into the Interior, The British
Columbia Act proclaimed the Mainland as colony of British Columbia, appointing James
Douglas as Governor of the new colony (Union of BC Indian Chiefs 2005). This meant that
Douglas would have sole control over the allocation of land in the colony to settlers and the authority to establish Indian reserves (Union of BC Indian Chiefs 2005). Due to the refusal by the British Crown to allocate further funds to establish treaties in the Mainland, Douglas did not enter into further treaties, but rather began to establish reserves on the Mainland (Ignace 2008).
With the colonization of Secwépemc ecw, settlers acquired land and resources. As it became clear that the Secwépemc were an obstacle to achieving this goal, deliberate plans to eradicate
Secwépemc peoples began (Ignace 1998; Ignace 2008; Billy 2009; Manuel 2017). Policies like 47 the Federal Indian Act, legislation deemed racist by Secwépemc scholars, had a significant impact on Secwépemc o l s’ a ss to traditional t rritori s, nfor ing nor s of rivat land ownership, while confining Indigenous peoples to tiny plots of reserve land (Ignace et al. 2016;
Sellars 2017; Manuel 2017). Such assimilation policies also resulted in what Indigenous scholars refer to as a form of cultural genocide brought on by an enforced residential school system, the
Sixties Scoop, and the Christianization of Indigenous spirituality (Ignace et al 2016; Simpson
2017).
In 1871, British Columbia became a province of Canada and the federal Department of
Indian Affairs took control over every aspect of Secwépemc life (Ignace and Ignace 2017). At this time, residential schools were set up, and a set of laws called the ‘Indian Act’ turned
Secwépemc peoples into wards of the Canadian government resulting in a loss of Secwépemc political authority (Ignace and Ignace 2017). Through the Indian Act, Indian Agents began to assert their control over individual communities, undermining the authority of chiefs and furthering the colonial reorganization of the Secwépemc community into bands and reserves
(Ignace and Ignace 2017). Cole Harris describes the process of reserve creation in British
Columbia as a further step in the process of dispossession and alienation of Indigenous peoples from the land, leading to the reorganization of British Columbia into colonial space:
The momentum to dispossess derived primarily from the interest of capital in rofit and of s ttl rs in g tting so hat ahead in the world, both interests, in a new colony where land was the principal resource, dependent on the acquisition of land… Th r s rv (r s rvation) syst in British Colu bia, a syst that, by allocating a tiny fraction of the land to native people and opening the rest for development, facilitated the geographical reorganization of the province (Harris 2004:165).
48
Late Secwépemc scholar, activist, and Kukwpi712 (Chief) of the Neskonlith Indian Band,
Arthur Manuel, proposes that colonialism is a three-phase project of capitalism, the three components being: dispossession, dependence and oppression (Manuel 2017:19). Dispossession, as outlined by Manuel (2017), requires the creation of private property as a means to prevent access, possession and occupancy of land and to destabilize the relationship that Indigenous peoples have with their territories. Manuel describes the beginning of colonial dispossession and dependence across Secwépemc ecw, which deprived Secwépemc peoples of their lands, hunting and fishing grounds, berry-picking areas, and sacred and spiritual places as follows:
It began with dispossession: our lands were stolen out from underneath us. The next step was to ensure that we are made entirely dependent on the interlopers [intruders] so they can control every aspect of our lives and ensure we are not able to rise up to seize back our lands. To do this, they strip us of our ability to provide for ours lv s. This as don by trying to ut us off fro a ss to our land […] this was achieved in the BC interior by literally fencing us off from our lands. Suddenly, our hunting grounds, our fishing spots, our berry patches and other gathering places were cut off by fences and then enforced by a maze of regulations, while our timber was carted away and our lands stripped of our minerals. This had never been envisioned by our people. Even when we allowed the newcomers to set up settlements on our land, it was unthinkable that suddenly our lands would be closed to us. We were suddenly corralled onto reserves under the authority of an Indian agent and given a few gardening tools for sustenance. In some areas, where the land was particularly fertile and the Indigenous peoples managed to generate small surpluses and tried to sell them, local white farmers complained about the competition and laws were passed forbidding us from selling our produce. It is important to note that our poverty is not a by-product of do ination but an ss ntial l nt to it…W lfar as introdu d quit lat , and again, its main purpose seemed to be to keep us corralled on our r s rv s… lfar h qu s ould lay an i ortant a ifi ation rol . It ant our people spent less time on our land and it allowed the white man to bring in all sorts of new laws forbidding us from hunting and fishing and trapping on our t rritori s…Indig nous o l s, fro njoying 100% of th land ass, r reduced by the settlers to a tiny patchwork of reserves that consisted of only 0.2% of the landmass of Canada, the territory of our existing reserves, with the settlers claiming 99.8% for themselves (Manuel 2017:19).
12 Kukwpi7 is th tsín ord for ‘Chi f’ giv n by Ron Igna in his un ublished doctoral dissertation “Our Oral Histories Are Our Iron Posts: Secwepemc Stori s and Histori al Cons iousn ss” (2008:212). 49
Following the establishment of Federal Reserves during the 1870s—which, as Manuel
(2017:19) points out, allocated less than 1% of Secwépemc territory as reserve land under the
Canadian Indian Act—the colonizing forces continued to deny the rights of nature and land- based societies in order to acquire uncontrolled rights to exploit Mother Earth and maximize profits (Manuel 2017; Alfred 2017). Adopted in 1876, the Indian Act was a further tactic for the control, management and assimilation of Indigenous Nations (Russel Diabo 2017). As argued by
Diabo (2017:23), th “ li ination of Indig nous Nations as distin t oliti al and so ial ntiti s” was its ultimate objective. By th arly 1900’s, o l s r l ft struggling to survive under the impact of new infectious diseases, land dispossession, racist laws, various processes of assimilation and the almost complete breakdown of traditional life, leading to a state of dependency on the colonizer (Billy 2009; Manuel 2017).
Throughout the twentieth century, environmental changes and destruction of
Secwépemc ecw were brought about by extreme clear-cutting of forests, open cattle ranges, railway and highway construction, and the draining of wetlands (Ignace et al. 2016). More recently, climate change and water pollution resulting in a decrease in salmon runs, large-scale mining projects and pipeline construction, urban expansion and increased logging activities
ontinu to i a t o l s’ ability to tak art in land-based activities (Ignace et al.
2016). Secwépemc scholar, activist and former Kukwpi7 (Chief) of the Xat’sull (Soda Creek)
Band, Bev Sellars, xa in s th ajor influ n of s ttl rs’ disr s t of Moth r Natur h n it comes to the devastating environmental destruction that we see today in Canada. Sellers makes furth r onn tions b t n th oloniz rs’ gr dy disr gard of th rights and sacredness of
Mother Earth and the destabilization of the important roles that Indigenous women held within 50 their communities—all the while imaging how the world might have been if the colonizers had learned respectful ways to care for the land and the people:
Then, as now, the Indigenous worldview is that the land is sacred. The newcomers could have learned the importance of taking care of Mother Earth and allowing her to continue to provide the tremendous bounty she has to offer. Indigenous teachings tell us that the land and waters provide us with everything we need to survive. The newcomers had a different view. The land to them was to be onqu r d and x loit d. o ov r ti Moth r Earth’s bounty is b ing d stroy d by a foreign economy based on monetary profit. It is only recently that these teachings about Mother Earth have gotten through to a few newcomers. Global warming, polluted waters and atrocious environmental standards are finally being recognized for what they are. The Indigenous people of this country knew and practiced the intelligent way of living sustainably thousands of years before the newcomers arrived. Imagine how much healthier our environment would be if this ay of living as r s t d…Wo n in Turtl Island lay d an qual, and in some tribes, elevated role in leadership. The newcomers should have learned how important women are to any society. Instead the newcomers made sure that women, Indigenous or otherwise, had no rights and were subservient to men. This created chaos in Indigenous governments. It made Indigenous women prime targets for violence that continues to this day (Sellars 2017:6).
As argued by Indigenous scholars, colonialism has and continues to distance multiple generations of children from Indigenous ways of knowing, resulting in loss of language, loss of culture, loss of connection and loss of identity (Ignace et al 2016; Simpson 2017). Furthermore, patriarchy continues to be a dispossessing force under colonialism, continuing to excuse and promote violence towards Indigenous women and gender-nonconforming peoples (Simpson
2017). This history of colonization is not the one found in textbooks or taught in classrooms.
This is an accurate representation of the ongoing processes of dispossession, which have established the daily colonial experiences of Secwépemc peoples, as written by Secwépemc scholars. At a time of reconciliation, the fact that colonization is not a distant memory of a historical past, but a current reality that is very much still ongoing, is a truth that we need to acknowledge.
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2.3 Splatsin experiences of environmental dispossession
This section represents some of the results of this project, which utilized a community-based participatory research approach framed by participant observation, in-depth semi-structured interviews and field trips. I highlight the ongoing impacts of colonial practices of dispossession—including those related to private property, residential schools, the Sixties Scoop and resource extraction—on the wellbeing of the Splatsin, as told by Splatsin peoples themselves. An important part of this work will also be a discussion of Splatsin approaches for resisting dispossession and maintaining connections to traditional lands.
2.3.1 Direct processes of environmental dispossession
As I mentioned previously, direct processes of dispossession lead to a physical separation from the land. In the excerpt bellow, Splatsin Elder Nuxnuxskaca cts’e7i7elt13 (Julianna
Alexander) expresses her frustrations regarding the direct forms of environmental dispossession that hav had ajor i a ts on h r o unity’s ability to ra ti land-based activities and access traditional territories. These include over-logging, depleted animal and fish populations that are an essential component of the Splatsin lifestyle, private property, air and water pollution, chemicals in the plants and animals, climate change, road and highway construction and damages to the land from extractive industries:
o of th hang s that I s ith our land right no , it’s just ov r h l ing. It’s just so thing I r ally dislik ... It’s things like over logging and it does a lot of nviron ntal da ag s. Th r ’s so any things that are damaged, animals, our food is damaged, the water dams are damaged, the swamps, vegetation, little animals, little bugs, everything that plays a role in purifying water, all those things are disrupted. And the overpopulation all over, the sewage in the water, the water usage, the mismanaging of all of those areas... Less beaver out in the mountains in swamps because of the over killing for their skins, and they play a role in water
13 Nuxnuxskaca cts’e7i7elt meaning “ o an fa n” is Julianna Al xand r’s hus a na given to me by Julianna during our interview at her home in Enderby. Throughout this thesis, I will use the Shuswap name of participants first, if they used that name to introduce themselves, followed by the translation of their name in English, followed by their English name. 52
urifi ation, v rything lays a rol …And th high ays and roads, they do da ag s to th land…you kno …and th y ond r hy th y hav so any fir s and v rything you kno , b aus th y don’t hav th at r. Th at r lays a big part in our population because it keeps the land da and that…Our restricted places that we are not able to go to because of towns and individual owned properties with fences, and hydro lines, and forestry...The disrespectful behavior from other populations with overfishing, overhunting, over logging, all these highways, roads and populations building on mountains and hillsides and digging into the environment and that causes a lot of pollution in the air, the exhaust from th ir ars, v n [ ollut s] th lants and ani als. To that’s anoth r big on … you kno hav n’t got l an air for the plants, for the people, for the animals. All the different things are preventing our usage of berries and medicines and different foods (Nuxnuxskaca cts’e7i7elt or “ o an fa n”, Julianna Alexander, Splatsin Elder).
Similarly, Splatsin Elder Laura William (Cookie) comments on the barriers to accessing fishing and hunting grounds due to settler-owned private property:
Some of our boundaries are next to white people and th y don’t ant us there, then yeah sometimes that is a problem because you always have to go ask them if you could go fish or even hunt. I was never a person that hunted but I can understand the frustration of our people, before we used to just roam, there was no boundaries and as far as I know the Queen had a thing that didn’t n d r its or whatever, fishing permits or hunting permits. As long as we fed our family, our people. Somewhere the people forgot that agreement (Laura William, Splatsin Elder).
Apart from concerns with private property, another barrier to practicing land-based activities was the lower quantity of essential animal, plant and fish species due to various factors including pollution, and climate change. For instance, Splatsin Knowledge Keeper John-Paul Thomas comments on the diminishing fish populations in Splatsin territory:
Th r ’s ay l ss fish o ar d to ho any there were twenty years ago. There us d to b abundan in th thousands! No you’r lu ky if you s hundr ds. Last ten years it diminished from thirty thousand to about t lv hundr d and it’s di inishing v ry y ar. I got ight [fish] last y ar and that’s th lo st I’ve gotten in the last ten years... and how much pollutants are in all the fish and all the rayfish and th rab and v rything ls ...That’s anoth r art I’ r ally concerned about, food from the ocean. I found one fish, one sockeye last year and it had some yellow spots. I sent it to Vancouver and I never got word back... The fish had th s unusual y llo s ots and that’s n v r b n on any of our fish, ever (John-Paul Thomas, Splatsin Knowledge Keeper). 53
Another common theme that emerged on many occasion was the concern that increased limitations on access to the land would diminish the knowledge and respect that people once upheld regarding land stewardship and the sharing of resources:
Th r ’s a lot or ondos and or rivat ro rty no than th r as b for b aus th r ’s a lot or o l and h n th y build th s ondos th o l that build th don’t und rstand that by aking all th se clear cuts they are destroying the habitat for the animals. Now we see very few elk around when th r us d to b so any b aus th ir ho has b n d stroy d and th y don’t hav as u h food any or . B aus of ov r o ulation th r ’s too any hunt rs hunting in on ar a too and o l don’t hav as u h r s t for th ani als as our o l had b for , th y ar ov r killing and no it’s so hard to find a d r that it ak s it v ry hard to shar it ith th r st of th o unity. I think that’s a major change because our hunters used to share the meat with everybody who asn’t abl to go out th r and hunt th s lv s and no b aus th r ’s not as u h a lot of o l in th o unity don’t hav a ss to it. I think too that a lot of the knowledge that our people had about respect and knowing what time to hunt is not b ing us d. Lik if it’s too hot th at go s bad so it’s not good to hunt h n it’s too ar and th r has to b r s t to not ov r kill th ani als or not to kill s all d r. Th r ’s not as many berries as there used to be either and a lot of th ti s our o l an’t v n go to th la s h r us d to go fishing and hunting and berry picking because of private property (Edna Felix, Splatsin Knowledge Keeper and member of Splatsin Chief and Council).
Some participants often recognized the opportunity for economic growth for their community presented by development. This is often the reality for many Indigenous communities that live in poverty in severely underfunded reserves who are confronted with the paradox presented by the need for income and economic growth on their reserves and the desire to respect the land and all of its beings by protecting it from development:
Th r ’s robl s ith th ildlife because the problem is their habitat has been logged so much...There was supposed to be regulations, so that, that wouldn't happen. Now a few lumber companies own all the forest and they appropriate it in massive amounts because they control the price of lumber. They control the sale, they control the wages and everything so they've got the monopoly... but they don't really care, it wasn't until the last decade that our people got our voice back and started standing up... And not all of our people, not all First Nations are true to environmental concerns. Some don't care. Even some in my family say, cut it, scrap it, pave it, sell it. And that’s the mentality of a lot of people. You even see it 54
on our journey down here, how many massive clear cuts there are... As First Nations, the leaders have been guilty of it too because they created an entity that needs money to run. So, all of a sudden, they're selling out their own future g n ration’s r sour s to run this ntity that go s no h r . It just runs. It’s like a diesel engine that is constantly running and not moving anywhere. You got to keep putting diesel to make it run, you got to pay out the money to buy the diesel and that’s hat has ha n d h r , and it’s just b o anoth r gov rn nt entity where ther ’s a lot of talk just to g t so or on y to s nd so on y just to do so or talking. It’s lik a ha st r on a h l (Silleattsa, or “t o blank ts Chi f of Chi fs”, Randy Williams, Splatsin Knowledge Keeper and community healer).14
The use of pesticides in food crops by farmers was also seen as a barrier to accessing
‘organi ’ foods, or foods that used to grow naturally on the land without the use of chemicals:
o far rs th y don’t anna ut h i als in th ir b f, th ir o s, some o l don’t anna ut stuff in th ir ro s… orn, arrots, hat v r, turni s, hat v r… but th n th y g t so us d to g tting th stuff to ut on th r b aus it ak s it gro big and all that, you hardly find, you an’t find a good place to even to say it’s ‘organi ’ (Laura William, Splatsin Elder).
There were also concerns about the boil-water advisories that were in place at the time due to unsafe drinking water on the reserve, leaving most of the community dependent on buying bottled water:
I was born in nineteen sixty and by then there was already major pollution in the air and in some of the waters internationally. Not thinking they would ever affect us here, but now, we have the problem with our water here in British Columbia. In my time, I never thought I would be buying water...and the water costs you more than gas, a liter of water costs way more than a liter of gas and we've got water all around us... (Silleattsa, or “two blankets Chief of Chi fs”, Randy Williams, Splatsin Knowledge Keeper and community healer).
Splatsin Knowledge Keeper Trina Antoine expands on this by comparing the availability of clean water from her childhood years as compared to the water pollution and lack of access to clean water her community is facing in her adult life:
14Silleattsa aning “t o blank ts Chi f of Chi fs” is Randy Willia s’ Shuswap name given to me by Randy during our interview in Nakusp. This name was given to him by his mother, and it comes from a family connection to the Chilleattsa ancestry. 55
The water quality, the purity of the water has changed. I remember when I was young r I lov d th s ll of at r, ould u it fro th ll. You ouldn’t g t nough of that at r b aus it as so fr sh, you ould s ll it. Th r ’s no at r that’s that ur no . Th r ’s lasti s in it and all sorts of oth r ollutants from different sources. We used to have access to a lot more water too, access to the rivers, the river is the life blood. It always provided us with food. Now you look at the Shuswap River and it’s all blo k d off ith rivat ro rty (Trina Antoine, Splatsin Knowledge Keeper).
Discussions surrounding highway and road construction focused upon increasing air pollution from vehicles. For instance, Splatsin Elder Shirley Bird noted the impacts of air pollution and climate change on the trees and the quality and quantity of berries and medicines available:
I go out and notice the difference, especially in the height, look at the trees, you can see the different colors. You know, you look up on the mountains and trees ar n’t so h althy. Th y’r a r al ugly, ugly, bro nish-green. Like when you go up v n high r on th ountains, th y’r not too bad and h n th r ’s hardly any traffic maybe go towards the different areas, say Lytton-Lillooet ar a, no ’r talking b autiful tr s. W ’r talking rald gr n, b autiful dark gr n [sighs]. But th n think again and th y’r g tting in th r to log. But th n that just sho s you the difference between the different areas when you drive and I notice the di in s, sa thing. Th ir oloring is diff r nt, it’s not th sa . a ith our berries, you know they used to be nice and big before the highways came in, no th y’r half th siz of y littl inky and th y look dri d u alr ady. You go up higher, they may be a little better, but not many berries on the bushes. The ani als ar having a hard ti to find th food and our ath r isn’t th sa ith r. You don’t kno h n it’s gonna rain, you don’t kno h n it’s gonna sno , you don’t kno h n the sun is gonna stay out and right now, fires! I was laying in b d this orning and I thought, “Wouldn’t it b ni if it sno d this orning?” You kno , don’t kno b aus of li at hang , b aus of hat’s ha ning out in th univ rs , you kno , th r ’s quit a diff r n . o, everything is not the same, everything is being knocked off kilter. Same with Moth r Earth, sh ’s off h r axis, sh is (Shirley Bird, Splatsin Elder).
2.3.2 Indirect forms of environmental dispossession:
Again, as I ntion d r viously, th us of th hras “indir t ro ss s of dis oss ssion” does not mean that these processes were less impactful than “dir t” ro ss s. The most common forms of indirect dispossession discussed by participants were the legacy of residential 56 schools and the Sixties scoop. The majority of participating Elders and community members either attended residential school were a child of a parent who attended residential school, or had been forcibly taken away from their families during the Sixties Scoop and raised in foster homes off the reserve. Splatsin Elder Donna Antoine expresses how the forced displacement of
Indigenous peoples from their traditional territories and the destruction of family ties triggered significant cultural loss and trauma:
R sid ntial s hools aus d so u h trau a and ang r and it’s no l ading to dysfun tions in o l ’s liv s b aus trau a aus s oisons in your body. A lot of us were sent to foster homes off the reserve too and that caused a loss of culture because as kids we were discouraged to have associations with members of our families. We were taken away from our culture and we were neglected and treated like sheep (Donna Antoine, Splatsin Elder).
Splatsin Elder Marie Thomas also shared her experience of loss of connection to her family, her community, and her culture due to having been forced to attend residential school:
I as born in End rby but I asn’t rais d h r ith y o l I as rais d in an Indian s hool in Cranbrook, I as th r til’ I as 21 and that as th l gal ag ba k th n and it as sur hard, sur hard h n I a ba k ho b aus I didn’t g t to kno any of y o l b aus I asn’t allo d to l av the school and I sure struggled... I lost y o h n I as young and I didn’t kno that sh l ft and I had a hard time. I used to wonder why when the kids were in the schools that th y r allo d to go ho but y broth rs and sist rs and I r n’t allowed to go because we had to stay with the nuns and the nuns looked after us on holidays and th n I ask d y sist r Carolin “Ho o ’r al ays l ft h r ith th s nuns? Ho o an’t go ho ?” I said, “I sur ish I ould go ho and s o and dad.” I didn’t kno y o had died until I was in y lat … ust’v b n around h n I a ba k ho I’d b asking, I’d ask th nuns and th y’d say “Oh, don’t kno , just go lay.” I didn’t hav ans rs on that and it was really hard because we never had love, nobody to hold us or say that th y lov d us. Thos nuns r n’t allo d to do that and I just had y sist r h n all th kids ould b gon ho . That’s hy ’r so los and ’d lay tog th r. I’d t ll h r “G , I ish o and dad ould o to g t us.” That’s a long story... and I finally I found out from my dad why and how my mom died and hy h didn’t t ll us, hy r just shi d a ay to th Indian s hool. No one would tell us that mom died. I used to always look for her, that was really hard and when I came back from the Indian school there was a lot of alcohol, a lot of fighting that us d to go on and I didn’t r ally kno anyon . Like my brothers, my older brothers, th y’d go out to Winfi ld and K lo na and th y’d go i king 57
h rri s and a l s and th y r n’t around so it was just us that were left with dad and h as an al oholi and h ouldn’t r ally look aft r us (Marie Thomas, Splatsin Elder).
The introduction of more Western individualistic mentalities versus a more community centered style of living was also seen as a form of dispossession which created a disruption in knowledge sharing between the Elders, the youth and the community as a whole:
Assimilation made us lose contact to the older people, we used to all get together and hav f asts. I gu ss so old r o l don’t ant to b both r d to visit on another, people used to get together and share. All the children would be running around and everybody would take care of the children together. There was no anglicized thinking that made people think they needed privacy, now people want their homes to be so far away from one another. That idea of privacy was not like that in our community, everyone got together and visited with one another (Donna Antoine, Splatsin Elder).
Dispossession, as perceived by Splatsin participants, was in many ways psychological in its attempt at brainwashing multiple generations of Indigenous peoples to believe that their cultures, knowledges, spiritualties, and land-based lifestyles r “ba k ards”, “un iviliz d”, and closer to th b havior of “savag s” as opposed to the so- all d “ iviliz d” and “su rior” lifestyles of the European settlers and missionaries. Through various inhumane methods, many Splatsin children were forced to believe that their identity was something to be ashamed of and that they should strive to behave more like their European abusers. Some participants referred to this int rnaliz d ra is and sha as “s ing on s lf through th oloniz rs y s” or having a
“ oloniz d ind.” This profound loss of identity and sense of belonging is echoed in many of the voices of the participants. For example, Splatsin Knowledge Keeper Trina Antoine spoke of the internalized racism that resulted from the trauma and violence that Splatsin peoples have been exposed to through various processes of colonialism:
Th r is a lot of ra is and n gativity that is asso iat d ith b ing nativ . It’s not just ra is fro oth r o l , it’s also int rnal ra is , start seeing ourselves from the eyes of the colonizers. Colonialism impacted our self-esteem and self- 58
confidence and made us think that we are less than or not as important as other o l . I think that’s th aus of a lot of n gativ f lings in our o munity because we were taught to be ashamed of our own identity (Trina Antoine, Splatsin Knowledge Keeper).
2.4 Conclusion
As detailed above, latsin o l s’ x ri n s of dis oss ssion ar far or o l x than the physical separation of bodies from the land. Environmental dispossession destabilizes the spiritual, respectful and reciprocal relationships that Splatsin peoples have with their land and all of creation. Limited access to traditional territories also prevents Splatsin knowledge sharing and storytelling from generation to generation, destabilizing Splatsin ways of knowing about the world. Factors such as pollution, highway construction and resource extraction have limited the opportunities to obtain healthy foods from the land, resulting in food insecurity among many
Splatsin peoples and a loss of knowledge on how to live from the land. Furthermore, the strategic removal of Splatsin children from their families based on assimilation policies resulted in a loss of cultural identity, weakening Splatsin attachments to their homelands and impeding Indigenous youth from reproducing Indigeneity.
The experiences of Splatsin Elders and Knowledge Keepers speak to the reality of ongoing colonialism in an era of reconciliation. When talking about reconciliation, my Splatsin teachers often wondered what it is that we are trying to reconcile if the fight for liberation and decolonization is not over. They would argue that acknowledging and apologizing for the unbelievable damages of colonization makes it seem like colonization is something of the past.
During many of my chats with Splatsin Elders, they revealed their disdain and frustrations to ards r on iliation. o Eld rs f lt it allo s th gov rn nt to off r an a ology for ‘ ast
rongdoings’ hil si ultan ously looking th oth r ay h n onfront d ith so r s rv s that have been on boil-water advisories for years; when the bodies of missing Indigenous women 59 and girls are found in rivers and ditches every other week; when the rates of youth suicide are spiraling out of control and there is no funding available for trauma informed therapists on the reserve; when the elk population on Splatsin territory can be counted on two hands; when entire families are living in tents on the side of the highway because of extreme poverty; and when privately owned property turns Splatsin people into trespassers on their own lands. And so, for
Splatsin peoples, healing and reconciliation requires a restructuring of the colonial systems that continue to violate Splatsin rights to their territories and to self-determination.
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Chapter 3: “Walking good on earth”: Interconnections of culture, land and wellbeing I a r ally int r st d in d olonizing our o l fro th olonization that’s ha n d to our o uniti s. Th r ’s 32 a fir s15 of Secwépemc ecw, of Shuswap people and we need a lot of work done with each oth r’s h l and support to do this. We need to unify ourselves in order to be one voice and one Nation… My llb ing ans to all of thos things b aus h n you think ntal, otional, hysi al and s iritual llb ing… You think of th di in wheel, that we have to live in balance with Mother Earth and wildlife and water, air and di in s… B aus living oth r ays is just not orking. W n d to reeducate ourselves and to have better communication and better understanding to survive together. We need a lot better training, teaching and awareness in order for our young people to have a strong sense of identity. We need to have and understanding of how our people have been segregated and colonized certainly through fost r ho s, ado tion, 60’s s oop, residential school and churches. W ’v ond r d a ay fro b ing Secwépemc or hus a and ’v b n oloniz d into thinking ’r diff r nt…W ’v lost our id ntity as a nation and ’v b n isguid d and istr at d by things lik g no id . That’s a traumatic thing for our people and the assimilation process has never stopped, it continues every day. We need to break the colonization to take control our own wellbeing and self-government (Nuxnuxskaca cts’e7i7elt, or “ o an fa n”, Julianna Alexander, Splatsin Elder).
3.1 Introduction
This chapter outlines Splatsin place-based perceptions of wellbeing as well the impacts of environmental dispossession on Splatsin wellbeing by drawing on interviews with Elders and community Knowledge Keepers. Interviews centered on four main objectives including: understanding how Splatsin peoples define wellbeing, examining the challenges of being on the land (environmental dispossession), understanding how culture and land shape wellbeing, and exploring Splatsin resistance to environmental dispossession (environmental repossession). The impacts of colonization were identified within all the interviews as being determinants of
Splatsin individual and community wellbeing. Hence, participants often attributed decolonization as a necessary component for improving wellbeing through restoring a strong sense of cultural
15 As outlined by the Shuswap Nation Tribal Council website (2018), “the Secwépemc nation consisted of 32 campfires, but as a result of the impacts of colonization it currently consists of 17 bands organized into different grou ings”. Th “32 ca fir s” refers to the 32 bands of the Secwépemc nation existing prior to colonization. 61 identity, building resilient communities and maintaining connections to land, language, knowledge and spirituality. This chapter begins with a review of health and wellbeing literature from different disciplines: health geography and anthropology of wellbeing. Next, I present the interview material in four stages. First, I explain Splatsin conceptions of wellbeing through a discussion of the medicine wheel and its four components (mental, spiritual, physical and emotional). Then, I present how the land contributes to Splatsin holistic wellbeing through three major themes: land-based activities and cultural identity, Splatsin land-based knowledge, and land-based healing. In the third stage, I discuss the impacts of environmental dispossession on
Splatsin wellbeing. Finally, the chapter concludes with a reflection on the many ways that
Splatsin peoples continue to resist dispossession through a reattachment to land, spirituality, culture, family and community.
3.2 Understanding Place and Wellbeing: Existing Approaches
Most health science approaches to health and wellbeing give little attention to natural ecosystems, despite them being sources for the food, water, shelter and livelihoods that we depend on for survival (Parlee et al. 2005; Parkes 2010; Tobias 2015). For this reason, health science approaches are not very appropriate or relevant for Indigenous peoples who understand their wellbeing as an embodiment of inter-relationships that include the land, water, air, plants, animals, spirits, cultural teachings and identity (Greenwood and de Leeuw 2009).
In the following paragraphs, I will highlight the common ground that is emerging in research from different approaches to health and wellbeing, based on reconnecting the wellbeing of the people to the wellbeing of the environment (Wilson 2003; McGregor 2004; Parlee et al. 2005;
Panelli and Tipa 2007; Thin 2008; Sowman 2013; Sarmiento Barletti 2016). These approaches recognize inter-connected processes of social and environmental change as determinants of 62 health and wellbeing. It is important to note that these approaches are simply (re)expressions of holistic understandings of wellbeing that Indigenous peoples have held for thousands of years about the connection between wellbeing and place/land. This is particularly obvious in the shift from th vi of th nviron nt as a “r sour ” (to be exploited for profit) to a view of the ecosystem as comprised of many seen and unseen sentient beings, alive and with agency, and as a nourishing and life-giving source (Parkes 2010).
3.2.1 Health Geography
Health geography approaches focusing on Indigenous peoples make use of geographic perspectives for understanding the health and wellness of Indigenous communities (Dummer
2008). This approach views health and wellbeing as holistic, including the relationship between
o l ’s h alth and th nviron nts in hi h th y liv , ork and lay (Du r 2008). There is a growing body of literature within health geography focusing on the role of land/place, and cultural values and beliefs in shaping the health of individuals and communities. Previous health geography studies lacked an understanding of the ways that culture shapes how people understand their wellbeing and relationships with place (Wilson 2003). The following studies are examples of a shift towards a more culturally informed health geography. Researchers within this field include: Wilson (2003; 2008), Richmond and Ross (2009), and McGregor (2004). Many theoretical and methodological approaches are used to explore their work on the connections between health and place among Indigenous peoples, such as Traditional Ecological Knowledges
(McGregor 2004; 2006; 2012), critical population health (Richmond and Ross 2009), and therapeutic landscapes (Wilson 2003).
For example, Kathleen Wilson (2003) contributes to research within health geography with her qualitativ study of th rol of “th ra uti lands a s” in shaping health among 63
Anishinabek people living in Northern Ontario. Wilson (2003) argues that most research
ondu t d on th ra uti lands a s fo us s on xtraordinary v nts in o l ’s liv s—going to shrines or spas—rather than emphasizing the social and spiritual aspects of everyday places in the lives and of Indigenous communities. Wilson aims to demonstrate the culturally specific dimensions of the relationship between health and place, highlighting the importance of places for maintaining Anishinabek physical, mental, emotional and spiritual health (Wilson 2013).
Similarly, Chantelle Richmond and Nancy Ross (2009) add to the broader health geography literature by exploring how the local environments and processes of environmental dispossession shape the health of First Nation and Inuit communities in Canada. Richmond and Ross (2009) use a critical population health approach as a way to think about why some people are healthier than others, particularly focusing on health inequities between Indigenous and non-Indigenous peoples. Th y d v lo a on t all d “ nviron ntal dis oss ssion” (detailed above in sections 1.5.1 and 1.5.2) as a way to explain how socioeconomic and environmental factors work tog th r to sha o l ’s h alth (Ri h ond and Ross 2009). This work highlights the role of environmental dispossession in undermining and reducing the quality of health in remote Inuit and First Nations communities (Richmond and Ross 2009).
Deborah McGregor (2004) engages with Traditional Ecological Knowledges among the
Anishinabe communities in Ontario, stressing the importance of incorporating the knowledges held by Indigenous peoples in decision-making around water-protection. McGregor (2004) makes connections between the wellbeing of Indigenous peoples and the ability to maintain access to traditional territories and ways of life. This work contributes to health geography studies by highlighting Anishinabe spiritual and cultural connections with place, providing alternative ways to understand place and health (McGregor 2004). 64
3.2.2 Anthropology of Wellbeing
More recently, anthropologists working with Indigenous communities have been pushing for an engagement with culture and place when attempting to conceptualize the wellbeing of different communities (Wesley-Esquimaux and Smolewski 2004; Panelli and Tipa 2007; Thin
2008; Wexler 2009; Ferra and Sarmiento Barletti 2016). Some facets of anthropology of wellbeing literature are quite similar to recent health geography approaches for understanding
Indigenous wellbeing, in that both disciplines stress the importance of looking at the cultural constructions of wellbeing maintained via peopl ’s onn tions ith la .
For instance, research by Sarmiento Barletti (2016) and Panelli and Tipa (2007) aims to broaden the way that wellbeing is conceptualized within scholarly and policy circles through an engagement with different place-based pers tiv s of hat it ans to “liv ll”. By engaging with kametsa asaiki or “living ll tog th r”, an essence of wellbeing pursued by many indigenous Ashaninka people in the Peruvian Amazon, Sarmiento Barletti (2016) explores an alternative place-based knowledge of wellbeing that is based on a way of knowing and experiencing the world that does not share the division between humanity and nature. The
Ashaninka people view kametsa asaiki as a collective wellbeing in which human wellbeing is inseparable from that of the other non-human beings of the sentient environment with whom they interact daily (Sarmiento Barletti 2016). Similarly, Panelli and Tipa (2007) have employed an ethnographic approach to studies of wellbeing among the Maori focusing on place-based notions of wellbeing. They argue that studies of wellbeing have been dominated by Western health- science approaches to health and psychological development and are thus inadequate for wellbeing studies among Indigenous populations (Panelli and Tipa 2007). They further argue for a sensitivity to the link between culture and environment in human health research through an 65 exploration of the place-based notion of wellbeing among the Maori that recognizes the cultural and environmental specificity of wellbeing (Panelli and Tipa 2007).
Scholars like Lisa Wexler (2009), Cynthia Wesley-Esquimaux and Magdalena Smolewski
(2004) take a slightly diff r nt a roa h by loying “Historical Trauma Theory” to explain the health implications of intergenerational transmission of trauma amongst Indigenous peoples due to various processes of dispossession. Wexler (2009) explores the alarming rates of
Indigenous youth suicide, stressing the importance of taking part in land-based cultural practices for strengthening cultural identity and self-esteem in order to improve health among Indigenous
Youth. Wesley-Esquimaux and Smolewski (2004) also discuss the spiritual connectedness of
Indigenous peoples to their lands and the implications of intergenerational trauma for wellbeing.
Th y argu that this onn tion ontribut s to Indig nous o l s’ ability to aintain ultural and traditional values and remain resilient to pressures from colonial assimilation tactics
(Wesley-Esquimaux and Smolewski (2004).
Further anthropological research by scholars such as Claudia Valeggia and Josh Snodgrass
(2015) provides a more in depth analysis of the determinants of the health gap between
Indigenous and non-Indigenous populations globally. Although Valeggia and Snodgrass stress that health inequities among Indigenous populations are community-specific, they point to three major themes that connect the common sociohistorical experience of most Indigenous populations with their current health situation (2015). These themes are the ongoing impacts of colonization and the oppression that comes with it, loss of ancestral lands and cultural continuity, and language and cultural barriers for access to healthcare (Valeggia and Snodgrass 2015).
Through the use of both biological and sociocultural perspectives Valeggia and Snodgrass (2015) propose that colonial processes of dispossession worldwide have contributed to a lower life 66 expectancy, high infant and child mortality, high maternal morbidity and mortality, high instances of infectious diseases, malnutrition, stunted growth, substance abuse, depression, and increasing levels of cardiovascular and other chronic diseases among Indigenous peoples.
The massive influence of colonization, environmental contamination and degradation, climate change, urban growth, the industrialization of food systems, and other infringements on
Indigenous lands, on the dietary and lifestyle habits of Indigenous communities worldwide has also been well documented (Waldram 1985; Parlee et al. 2005; Chan et al. 2006; Kuhnlein et al.
2013; Sheehy et al. 2014). For example, Waldra ’s (1985) work with the Whitefish Lake Cree and Chan et al.’s (2006) ork with Inuit peoples in Nunavut serves to highlight the direct link between environmental devastation and food insecurity among Indigenous communities. Both of these studies provide evidence to suggest that environmental devastation disrupts local subsistence practices (i.e. fishing, hunting, gathering, and trapping) and leads to a decrease in consumption of land-bas d or “bush” foods (Waldram 1985; Chan et al. 2006). A lack of accessibility and availability of healthy land-based foods results in an increasing dependency on social assistance (welfare) and on consumption of less nutritional store-bought foods (Waldram
1985; Chan et al. 2006). Sheehy et al. (2014) further suggest that rapid changes in dietary patterns in Indigenous communities increases the risk for diet-related chronic diseases. Within the available literature, food insecurity among many Indigenous communities is understood as a direct result of the ongoing impacts of colonialism on culture, land, identity, and self- determination (Chan et al. 2006; Beaumier and Ford 2010; Mercille et al. 2012; Munroe et al.
2014).
Moreover, there is a substantial body of medical anthropology literature advocating for the prioritization of localized traditional healing practices to support the healing journeys of 67
Indigenous peoples (Kauf rt and O’N il 1990; Maar and Shawande 2010; St-Denis and Walsh
2017). For instance, St-Denis and Walsh (2017) suggest that access to traditional healing practices and services grounded in Indigenous worldviews are essential to addressing the ongoing oppressive practices of the dominant healthcare system and to promoting the holistic healing of Indigenous communities. Similarly, Maar and Shawande (2010) explore if and how
Anishinabe traditional healing practices can be integrated with Western medicine in a clinical setting to address mental health concerns. Likewise, Kauf rt and O’N il (1990) suggest that the introduction of Western medical services into Indigenous communities have in many ways led to a devaluation of Indigenous Knowledges related to health and wellbeing. Focusing on childbirth practices among Inuit women from the Keewatin region of the Northwest Territories, Kaufert and O’N il (1990) ro os that medical control over Inuit childbirth has led to the displacement of traditional ways of childbirth, the evacuation of women to give birth far from their communities in Southern hospitals, and alienation through language and culture from those providing care. The overarching argument in these studies is that community-specific traditional healing practices should be integrated into mainstream healthcare services in order to provide more culturally appropriate care to Indigenous communities (Kauf rt and O’N il 1990; Maar and
Shawande 2010; St-Denis and Walsh 2017).
My thesis will contribute to the emerging anthropological literature on wellbeing among
Indigenous communities by highlighting the interconnecting roles of culture and land in shaping wellbeing through an ethnographic engagement with the local knowledge systems of the
Splatsin. The aim is to provide a way to think otherwise about wellbeing and the creation of knowledge, rather than simply focusing on conceptualizations of wellbeing from the perspective of Western Science. 68
3.3 Splatsin definitions of wellbeing
This section covers wellbeing as conceived by Splatsin peoples as well challenges that the community is currently facing that have an impact on wellbeing. Splatsin notions of wellbeing are holistic and tied to the medicine wheel, integrating the spiritual, mental, emotional and physical dimensions of health. As I mentioned before, the Splatsin word la7, meaning “good”, or the phrase la7 sumac, which translates as “living a good lif ”, encapsulates the belief that human wellbeing is inseparable from that of the other-than human beings (water, air, animals, trees, plants, bugs, spirits) that comprise the natural ecosystem. Out of ten participants interviewed, only one of them used a different Secwépemctsín word to describe wellbeing, it was cwelcwelt,
aning “h althy”. When I was first interviewing people, I was a bit puzzled as to how a word that translat s as “good” or “living a good lif ” could be the right word to explain wellbeing.
However, as I came to understand what wellbeing really ans for latsin o l s, “living a good lif ” made complete sense to me. “Living a good lif ” is a notion of llb ing bas d on a
Splatsin way of knowing and experiencing the world that does not share a division between humans and nature. And so, in order for a person to be la7 they have to also live well and in balance with the natural world.
The next section of this chapter will expand on Splatsin perceptions of wellbeing by drawing on broader Indigenous teachings of the medicine wheel. Although the medicine wheel itself is not Splatsin-specific, it is widely used by Indigenous communities who believe in the four dimensions of human experience (mental, spiritual, physical and emotional) as represented in the four directions of the medicine wheel. The specific origin of the medicine wheel is quite vague in the available literature. Yet, some common knowledge is that the t r “medicine wheel” is not an Indigenous term, but rather a term used in the late 1800s and early 1900s by settlers in 69 reference to the Bighorn Medicine Wheel located at the Big Horn Mountains near the Montana-
Wyoming boundary line (Simms 1903; Laframboise and Sherbina 2008). The Bighorm Medicine
Wheel is a wheel shaped stone monument found in traditional Apsáalooke (Crow) territory and is a sacred site for many Indigenous groups (Simms 1903). In Apsáalooke oral histories, the so-
all d “ di in h l” is said to have been built before they settled on that territory by “th
o l ho had no iron” ( i s 1903:107). Hundreds of similar circular structures have been found all over Indigenous territories in North America over the last several centuries, particularly in Alberta, Canada (Laframboise and Sherbina 2008). Interpretations of the four dimensions of the medicine wheel vary within each Indigenous group, yet it is agreed upon in the literature that these circular structures were widely used for ceremonial purposes and were physical representations of the internal dialogue or energy exchange between self, spirit (Creator) and nature (creation) (Wilson 2003; Loiselle and McKenzie 2006; Laframboise and Sherbina 2008).
What follows is a Splatsin interpretation of the medicine wheel—specifically in reference to their understanding of the four aspects of human experience that contribute to holistic wellness
(mental, spiritual, emotional and physical).
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3.3.1 Learning balance through the medicine wheel
Figure 2: Splatsin wellness wheel
For Splatsin peoples, “living a good lif ” means maintaining balance between the four dimensions of wellbeing. Balance is not only necessary for maintaining individual wellbeing but also the wellbeing of the family and community. During interviews with Splatsin Elders and
Knowledge Keepers, the medicine wheel was constantly referenced to explain Splatsin notions of holistic wellbeing. All four elements of life (mental, physical, spiritual, emotional), are represented in the four directions (North, East, South West) of the medicine wheel (Wilson
2003). One of the broader Indigenous teachings of the medicine wheel is the need for balance between all four elements for supporting good health (Wilson 2003; Loiselle and McKenzie
2006). From balance, emerge peace and harmony. Splatsin peoples perceive living in harmony as a n ssity for “living a good lif ”. Harmony and balance extend beyond the individual realm such that good health and wellness also requires the individual to live in harmony with the larger community of Mother Earth (Wilson 2003; Loiselle and McKenzie 2006). As Splatsin 71
Knowledge Keeper Randy Williams noted during our interview, balan ans, “ alking good on earth.” From this perspective, all human and other-than human beings are connected, respected and valued as sacred.
The health of Mother Earth is central to human existence and wellbeing. Figure no. 2 above, presents a visual expression of the Splatsin perspective of wellness as described by Splatsin
Elders. Through discussions with a group of Elders, I created a graphic representation of the
Splatsin holistic view of wellbeing. I did this by adapting the wellness wheel created by the First
Nations Health Authority (FNHA), to include concepts and ideas from different visual representations of the medicine wheel sketched out by Splatsin Elders. In the sketches provided by some Splatsin participants, the inner circle represents human beings and the importance of relationships with the Creator in all efforts to maintain good health and wellness. The second circle illustrates the four aspects of a healthy well-balanced life (mental, emotional, physical, spiritual) as outlined by the medicine wheel. Balance between these four dimensions is necessary to maintain not only the health and wellbeing of the individual, but also of their family, community and nation. Splatsin Elder, Nuxnuxskaca cts’e7i7elt expresses the importance of nurturing all four dimensions as well as maintaining spiritual connections with Mother Earth, in order to maintain balanced and holistic wellness:
When I was younger, I was pretty healthy. Very, very healthy, mentally, emotionally, spiritually and physically because I lived with the land and the di in s you kno didn’t hav th s robl s they have today. But today, the unity is broken, the family unit is broken, the community is broken, the communication is broken, the respect was broken, everything that we l arn d…dis antl d and no n d to undo all that and try to r onn t ith the way that our ancestors lived before because it was more positive, healthier, a means of better survival. We had a better understanding of the land. We had a s iritual onn tion that you an’t s ith v rything around us and v ry living thing so… and it as v ry ositiv , it as v ry s iritual… is th only ord that o s to right no and ithout that ’r unbalan d. Any on of th ar as, ntally, hysi al, otional, and s iritual. If ’r not balan d in any on of 72
thos ar as, ’r dysfun tional. To be functional we need balance in all of those areas (Nuxnuxskaca cts’e7i7elt, or “ o an fa n”, Julianna Alexander, Splatsin Elder).
The third circle of the medicine wheel presented above (fig. 2) represents the four underlying values that work together to support wellness: Wisdom, Respect, Relationships and
Responsibility (FNHA 2012). Wisdom includes being able to pass on Indigenous knowledges of language, traditions, medicines, culture, and community values. Respect is about honoring where one comes from, on ’s an stors, Cr ator, on ’s ultur s, lands, and oneself. It requires consideration and appreciation of on ’s fa ili s, o uniti s, nations and th natural osyst
(creation). It entails knowing cultural values of respect that teach humans how to live peacefully and in balance. Relationships involve reciprocity and mutual accountability. This entails maintaining strong ties with traditional territories and teachings. Relationships also represent building strong and resilient communities by working together to maintain a strong sense of
Secwépemc identity. Responsibility involves the responsibility to on s lf, to on ’s fa ily, to th wider community and to Mother Earth. For Splatsin peoples, it also entails showing leadership through modeling healthy behaviors and sharing teachings with younger generations that will help maintain the wellbeing and resilience of their communities. It is about having reciprocal and consenting relationships with all the beings on Earth. Knowledge Keeper and former Kuwkpi7
(Chief) of Splatsin, awyaht all xaxa7 t’e boonllp outlines the importance of upholding the personal responsibility one has to their families, communities, and nations:
Wh n I think of llb ing…I think of th o unity, I think of our t rritory. o, when I think of wellbeing and how that connects with my identity as Splatsin I think about where I fit into all of that. Where do I fit in with the people? Where do I fit in with my family? Where do I fit in with the economics of our community and the territory? And even nationally, where does Splatsin fit in nationally and how do I make that good? How do I make that la7 and how do I as yawyaht all xaxa7 t’e boonllp, how do I stay well so that I can impact my family, impact this community, which is Splatsin Indian Reserve Number 2 (IR2) and 73
then how do I impact the territory? ( awyaht all xaxa7 t’e boonllp, or “strong and s art Juni r”, Gloria Morgan, Splatsin Knowledge Keeper and former Chief).
Similarly, member of Splatsin Chief and Council, Edna Felix expresses the importance of taking care of oneself in order to model healthy behaviors that will help on ’s fa ily, o unity and nation:
If you don’t h l yours lf g t healthy, basi ally you’r no good to anybody ls . If you’r si k ntally or sy hologi ally and you try to h l oth r o l th n you’r just assing har unint ntionally, passing hat you’r arrying. o you an do or har than good. That’s on of th main teachings I learned. Always work to help yourself to get better. Then move on to your family, you know, your children, your brothers and sisters, and from there you can reach out and help the o unity and th n fro th r if you’v ad it to that oint you can now help your nation and ountry, but if you don’t h l yours lf you an’t h l any of thos people (Edna Felix, Splatsin Knowledge Keeper and member of Chief and Council).
The fourth circle represents the places where one comes from and the people that one shares those places with: family, community, nation and land. All the concepts within the fourth circle sustain the four aspects of wellbeing, physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual. Finally, the fifth circle depicts the social, environmental, cultural and economic determinants of wellbeing. Often, the determinants of human health and wellbeing are grouped under the broader framework of
“social determinants of health” (Reading and Wien 2009; King et al. 2009; Czyzewski 2011;
Greenwood and de Leeuw 2012). Although varying explanations of this framework exist, it seems to be agreed upon that the social determinants of health framework considers how environments, structures, systems and institutions influence the development and maintenance of health over the life course (Reading and Wein 2009; King et al. 2009; Greenwood and de Leuuw
2012). Social determinants of health, among others, include food security, employment, income, a stable ecosystem, education, housing, social justice and equity (Greenwood and de Leuuw
2012). Yet, as argued by de Leuuw et al. (2015) the problem with much of the literature focusing 74 on the social determinants of human health is that it often excludes or marginalizes other important determinants not typically considered to be strictly “so ial” in natur , su h as colonialism, spirituality, culture, relationships with the land, history, and ways of knowing.
According to Reading and Wien (2009), the mental, physical, emotional and spiritual wellbeing of Indigenous children, youth and adults is distinctly, and differentially influenced by a wide range of determinants. Czyzewski (2011) further proposes that the determinants of Indigenous
o l s’ h alth diff r fro thos of th non-Indigenous population, partly due to different conceptualizations of health and wellbeing among Indigenous peoples as compared to mainstream biomedical definitions of health.16 Moreover, the broader impact of colonization, along with the racism and exclusion that stems from it, is often seen as the most fundamental health determinant, or the root “cause of causes” of health inequities faced by Indigenous peoples (Reading and Wein 2009; Richmond and Ross 2009; Czyzewski 2011; de Leuuw et al.
2015). In keeping with the four components of the Splatsin wellness wheel as seen in figure 2, the determinants of Splatsin wellbeing are divided into four categories: social, environmental, cultural and economic.
Social determinants of Splatsin wellbeing include housing, employment, poverty, education, food security, social justice, and equity. Environmental determinants include a healthy ecosystem that has clean air and water, and access to/availability of healthy land-based foods. Cultural determinants include things like Splatsin knowledge systems, language, ceremonies, spirituality, traditional foods and medicines, land-based practices, stories and teachings and all things that create a strong sense of identity or s ns of b longing to on ’s
16 For the purpose of this thesis, I will only be making connections between Splatsin notions of wellbeing and interpretations of social determinants of health frameworks that specifically incorporate Indigenous conceptualizations of holistic wellbeing as well as the broader impact of colonization on health. Seen in works by Reading and Wein (2009), Czyzewski (2011), Greenwood and de Leeuw (2012), and de Leeuw et al. (2015). 75 culture and community. Economic determinants include the gifts from Mother Earth and
latsin o l s’ r s onsibility to b th st ards of th s gifts. t ardshi in lud s th protection, sustainable use, management and sharing of these gifts by following all four values of respect, wisdom, relationship and responsibility. If respectful and sustainable use of these
“r sour s” is practiced, it will ensure the resilience of healthy land-based communities.
Although th d t r inants of Indig nous o l s’ h alth ar culturally and historically specific, there are some similarities between Splatsin determinants of wellbeing and the broader determinants of health frameworks for Indigenous peoples. A sensitivity to the ways that culture and relationships with the natural environment are implicated in the health and wellness of
Indigenous communities is one example of the shared similarities between these views.
Moreover, the assumption that colonialism is an active and ongoing force impacting the wellbeing of Indigenous communities is shared by both Splatsin Knowledge Keepers and broader Indigenous-specific frameworks for understanding the determinants of health (Reading and Wein 2009; Richmond and Ross 2009; Czyzewski 2011; de Leuuw et al. 2015).
Overall, the circular nature of the medicine wheel or wellness wheel ensures that the whole is addressed, as it informs us that all of its elements are connected and thus cannot be treated in isolation (Loiselle and McKenzie 2006). All participants expressed the need to follow the medicine wheel in order to take care of the four aspects of wellbeing equally. As others have proposed before me, Indigenous Knowledges and ways of being in the world need to be the primary frames of reference for understanding the current health challenges faced by Indigenous communities (de Leeuw et al. 2015). Thus, consistent with Splatsin perspectives of the four elements of human wellness as represented by the medicine wheel, the next sections are divided 76 into four categories to explain Splatsin notions of spiritual, mental, emotional and physical wellbeing.
3.3.2 Spiritual wellbeing
According to participants, spiritual wellness is achieved through connectedness to beliefs, values and identity. This entails taking ar of on ’s r s onsibility to all th s irits that ar art of Mother Earth, and through taking part in spiritual and cultural activities (e.g. ceremony).
Participants also highlighted the use of prayer and traditional spiritual practices as ways to gain inner strength and resilience. For example, Splatsin Knowledge Keeper Edna Felix felt that spiritual balance is achieved through drumming and singing prayer songs from the heart as a way of communicating with the Creator:
I didn’t kno ho to do th dru . I didn’t kno ho to sing th songs…but aft r learning from a few healers it made it easier but it took a long time to understand hat you n d. B aus if you l arn to sing songs and you’r dru ing and singing th s hants or songs and you don’t sing it fro your h art it’s lik r ading a book and orizing it, it’s just ty. That’s th sa ay th s prayers are done, you have to mean it with your heart and mind at the same time and th n it’s a ay Cr ator list ns. H kno s you an it b aus it’s o ing from your heart too (Edna Felix, Splatsin Knowledge Keeper and member of Chief and Council).
Similarly, another participant identified ceremony, specifically sweat lodge, and prayers as important for fulfilling spiritual wellness in that they are a form of connecting and giving thanks to the ancestors, the Creator and Mother Earth:
Your spiritual wellbeing is your onn tion to all r ation and your Cr ator… I know in our prayers and that and when I do the sweat lodge, I give thanks to my grandmother and my grandfather and the grandfathers of my grandmothers and the grandmothers of my grandfathers. Right to the beginning of how I was created and I do that for all people that I know because all the way down without one of th I ouldn’t hav th l asur to t th o l that I t and shar things. o, if I as to say that I a thankful for all your ss n , lit rally it’s fro th beginning of time to who you are, for all the strength that they endured and all th ir otions to ak su h a rson as you and that’s hat our ray rs ar 77
(Silleattsa, or “two blankets, Chief of Chiefs”, Randy Williams, Splatsin Knowledge Keeper and community healer).
In the following excerpt, Yawyaht all xaxa7 t’e boonllp expressed the need to perform traditional spiritual practices (smudging) for promoting wellbeing, while also highlighting the importance of places in sustaining spiritual wellness:
I know that for example spiritually sometimes my lln ss isn’t as strong as it should be because I should be smudging more, I should be spending more time in places, physical places where I can really make my mental and spiritual self healthier ( awyaht all xaxa7 t’e boonllp, or “strong and s art Juni r” Gloria Morgan, Splatsin Knowledge Keeper and former Chief).
Splatsin Elder Marie Thomas stressed the importance of praying to a higher power whether it b th Cr ator or God, for u lifting on ’s spirit and giving people a sense of inner-strength and resilience:
If I’ f ling do n, if I’ f ling lon ly, if I’ f ling… you kno , sad, or if so thing’s troubling I’ll sit h r and I’ll say, “G , hy a I f ling lik this, I’ just f ling… hat is that? And I’ saying to ys lf “I’ f ling lon ly, I’ f ling alon , you kno … lik nobody…” and th n I say, “No. I’ not alon .” I say, “I hav you, y lord. You’r ith right no ; you alk ith ; you’r y rot tor.” And I say, “Oh, you kno , I didn’t an to think lik that.” All of a sudd n, I’ll b s iling and th n I’ll b boun ing. That’s tru , you kno , that’s y b li f. I b li v in that, I don’t ar hat anybody thinks. That’s what keeps me going (Marie Thomas, Splatsin Elder).
3.3.3 Emotional wellbeing
Participants described components of emotional wellbeing in terms of being able to manage emotions including releasing negative emotions quickly, having positive emotions, having self- confidence and accepting the need to express emotions. For instance, Splatsin Elder Donna
Antoine spoke of the need to get rid of anger and resentment related to various experiences of colonialism in order to heal emotionally:
Emotional wellbeing to me means having to do away with anger and get rid of victimization from what happened to us in residential schools or in foster care. 78
That anger makes us unhealthy because it fills us with a lot of hate. We have to do away with that if we want to move forward as a community because this anger is passed on to our children (Donna Antoine, Splatsin Elder).
Some participants also made a connection between emotional wellness and spirituality as praying to a higher power helped people work through negative emotions and build up their self-confidence and self-love. As outlined by Splatsin Elder Laura
William:
It took me a long time to work on myself, but with my higher power, I finally got my self-respect back to love myself. I picked myself up with his help. He had carried me for a long time. Finally, I got up and started to walk the red road (Laura William, Splatsin Elder).
3.3.4 Mental wellbeing
Participants described mental wellness as intuitive and rational thought. They described a person with good mental health as someone that is free from addictions, and someone who appears to be happy rather than suffering from anxiety and depression. In order to improve mental wellness participants expressed the need to heal from addictions and past trauma as well as keeping your mind active and continuing to learn new things. Living a “si l lif ” was also one of the ways that mental wellness could be sustained. For example, some participants commented on the negative effects of moving towards a materialistic lifestyle on mental wellbeing:
Living a simple life is part of wellbeing. We used to be very simple people. We n v r had all this stuff b aus didn’t n d it, only took hat n d d. No th r ’s that hol id a of k ing u ith th Jon s’ of anting hat your neighbor has or having a certain lifestyle. Then you start accumulating a bunch of stuff to ak yours lf f l b tt r h n you’r f ling do n or d r ss d but all it do s is aus you or anxi ty to hav a bun h of stuff around. Th r ’s this id a that you want to be as important as non-native people by living that same lifestyle but that was never the way of our people (Trina Antoine, Splatsin Knowledge Keeper).
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Many participants also expressed the need for strong family and community support as well as counseling services to help people cope with mental health issues. In order for people to nourish their mental wellness, participants believed that there should be no shame in reaching out for help when needed in order to heal:
I t ll y grandkids, “Ho lu ky you kids are, the things you have. The resources, th r ’s all kinds of h l . Ev n if you hav to go off th r s rv ; go off r s rv ; look for th h l . Th r is h l and don’t b asha d, don’t b s ar d to ask for h l aus ’ I found it and I’ r ally glad that I did aus ’ I n v r trust d anybody and I had a lot of hard f lings, but I found it; I found th h l and I’ r ally glad that I did. You kno , I an s il no , I an talk and I al ays t ll th , “You don’t l t anybody v r t ll you to shut u . You just keep talk, talk, talk talking. You k talking. Don’t l t anybody t ll you to shut u . L t th h ar you.” And that’s hat th young o l should do, s k h l , build s lf-confidence and th y’ll ak it. That’s hat I al ays t ll y kids, v n as old as they are. Some of them have fallen and we pick them up and we talk and you know, o uni at , list n to your kids, h ar th , don’t b too busy for th , slo do n; that’s th bigg st art is got to slo do n and list n to th (Marie Thomas, Splatsin Elder).
3.3.5 Physical wellbeing
Participants described the physical dimension of wellness as b ing aff t d by a rson’s
“ ay of b ing”, which includes the types of foods that they consume, how they take care of their body and daily activities. Physical wellbeing was linked to having a healthy diet containing foods from the land, being physically active and being in a safe, clean environment. Splatsin
Elder Shirley Bird commented on the need for clean water, an environment free of toxins and the availability of traditional foods in order to be physically healthy:
Cl an at r. I think Moth r Earth n ds h l to b l an, th r ’s so u h toxi waste lying around. Because with water, everything needs water in order to surviv , our lants, tr ss, our di in s, our ani als, b aus if don’t hav thos don’t surviv . W go i king our lants, our di in s, go i king our berries, we need to hunt, we n d to fish. If don’t hav thos , hy ar here? W an’t surviv and hav nothing to ass on to our hildr n b ause if ’r arrying a hild hat is th good to th if th y’r b ing f d th oisons that we intake. Our hildr n ar n’t going to b h althy, th y’r going to b 80
deformed in some way, form, or even in the mind and they might be stillborn (Shirley Bird, Splatsin Elder).
Elder Marie Thomas also commented on the need to consume healthy foods and avoid processed foods in order to promote physical wellness:
It’s too fast, fast foods… P o l don’t anna ook, l t’s go to M Donalds, l t’s go g t so izza, g t so Chin s food, but n v r think of hat’s all in it. Is it healthy for us? All this pop? All these energy drinks? Is it h althy? No. It’s b tt r to r ar your o n als, at l ast you kno hat’s going in it, you kno ? Watch your diet, taking care of what you put in your body. What does it do to your h alth? Is it h althy for us? I don’t think so (Marie Thomas, Splatsin Elder).
The medicinal and health sustaining aspects of food, as expressed by Elders Marie Thomas and Shirley Bird, have also been explored in broader literature about the cultural, nutritional and pharmacological contributions of food to human health (Caplan 1997; Grivetti and Ogle 2000;
Parlee et al. 2005; Etkin 2006; Kassam et al. 2010; Kuhnlein et al. 2016; Bannister and Thomas
2016; Ignace et al. 2016). Particularly focusing on the nutritional contributions of Secwépemc food plants, Kuhnlein et al. (2016) highlight how traditional food species have maintained the health of Secwépemc peoples for countless generations. A nutrient composition analysis of several culturally important plant food species of the Secwépemc diet—including nodding onion
(Allium cernuum), balsamroot (Balsamorhiza sagittata), spring beauty (Claytonia lanceolata), tiger lily (Lilium columbianum), and highbush cranberry (Viburnum opulus), among others—was conducted to determine their health sustaining properties. The results show that selected berries, root vegetables, lichen, bulbs, leaves and fruits contained significant amounts of iron, calcium, zinc, copper, protein, crude fat, moisture, ash, carbohydrates and dietary fibre, demonstrating that the traditional plant food sources of the Secwépemc are essential to human nutrition
(Kuhnlein et al. 2016:220-225). 81
Beyond the nutritional components of traditional food systems, there is also a blurred distinction between foods and medicines in that many foods also have pharmacologic potential, in other words, food can also be medicine, as argued by Etkin (2006). In fact, Kassam et al.
(2010) propose that medicinal plants, animals and minerals have been the primary source of health care for many Indigenous communities, simultaneously contributing to food and health sovereignty. One example specific to the Secwépemc would be balsamroot (Balsamorhiza sagittata), which was traditionally harvested by Secwépemc peoples for nutritional and medicinal purposes (Bannister and Thomas 2016). In the past, the small roots were dug up, peeled, steamed in pits and prepared for food, while the larger roots were boiled in water and prepared for medicine (Bannister and Thomas 2016). Although the traditional use of balsamroot as a food source is not as common anymore, it is still harvested as Secwépemc medicine to treat sores and skin infections such as poison ivy, burns, wounds, and eczema (Bannister and Thomas
2016). The medicinal uses of balsamroot suggest that the plant might have antibacterial, antifungal and antimicrobial properties (Bannister and Thomas 2016). Bannister and Thomas
(2016:357) suggest that the distinction betw n food and di in is “an artifa t of W st rn s ialization” in that most plants and animals traditional to the Secwépemc diet have both nutritional and medicinal significance.
Kassam et al. (2010:817) further propose that d nial or obstru tion of Indig nous o l s’ self-determination over medicine/food hoi is a “r udiation of funda ntal rights of autonomy as guaranteed by Article 24, Section 1, of the United Nations Declaration on the
Rights of Indigenous Peoples”. This s tion stat s that all Indig nous o l s hav th right to their traditional medicines and to maintain their culturally and ecologically-specific health practices (Kassam et al. 2010). In that sense, Crate (2008) suggests that environmental 82 degradation caused by unsustainabl and un ontroll d x loitation of th nviron nt’s so- called resources to meet the needs of Western consumerism is in direct violation of the rights of
Indigenous peoples. Through an analysis of environmental dispossession among the Splatsin, I will explore the implications of losing the plants, animals, and minerals central to their cultural identity, spirituality and food and health sovereignty, for Splatsin wellbeing and self- determination. I also hope to highlight a worldview and way of being in the world that invites people to think about alternatives to an unsustainable capitalist economy based on the exploitation of Indigenous lands and bodies.
3.4 Relationships among land, culture and wellbeing
Through a thematic analysis of the interview material, I identified three main themes relating to how Splatsin peoples perceived the connections between land, culture and wellbeing. These include land-based activities and cultural identity, Splatsin land-based knowledge, and land- based healing. The interviews revealed an overarching theme, which is that the land represents more than just a physical space for people to perform their daily activities. The land simultaneously contributes to spiritual, emotional, mental and physical wellbeing in multiple ways, as I will discuss in the following paragraphs.
3.4.1 Land-based activities and cultural identity
Wh n I s ak of “land-bas d a tiviti s”, I am referring to the traditional cultural activities that take place on the land. As outlined by Edna Felix, Splatsin land-based activities include
“story-telling, hunting, camping, fishing, baiting, spearing, harpooning, making fish wears, canoeing, drumming, berry picking, beading, sewing, making regalia, thinking positively when you’r aking so thing, r s rving foods, anning, drying, s oking, bask t aking, t a hing one another, and teaching someone to make baskets or to make moccasins.” The participants of 83 this project perceived the land as being the provider all the resources (e.g. food, water, medicines) necessary for survival. Being out on the land provides the opportunity to take part in health sustaining activities such as hunting, fishing, medicine collecting and berry picking. As stated by Splatsin Knowledge Keeper Trina Antoine:
Hunting, gathering, snaring, harpooning all require access to the land. In order for us to b latsin n d th land. Without it ’d hav no ultur , no valu s. How else are we going to learn these activities? How are we going to practice our teachings? (Trina Antoine, Splatsin Knowledge Keeper).
Having a connection to and und rstanding of on ’s ultur as also s n as a ay to improve overall wellbeing and remain resilient to the ongoing impacts of colonization. For instance, when asked what wellbeing meant for him, Splatsin Knowledge Keeper John-Paul Thomas replied:
Getting back to how we were, so that we can recognize where we come from, to understand the history, so we know why we’r h r b aus our o l ar lost. Our o l hav b n oloniz d so it’s about helping them get out of that (John- Paul Thomas, Splatsin Knowledge Keeper).
Participants also considered the stewardship of the land as a personal responsibility that is set within broader cultural principles.17 Thus, maintaining strong, respectful and reciprocal relationships with Mother Earth contributes to a balanced and healthy life. Most participants mentioned the need to respect and give thanks to the plants, animals, water, air and medicines that sustain all life on earth through prayers or offerings. If a person disrespects the land, when they consume its gifts they will be unhealthy. Thus, taking part in land-based activities also provides opportunities to learn lessons about proper ways to harvest foods and medicines with respect. Participants expressed that learning these values and practices allowed them to live a healthy life in balance with all of creation:
17 For a more detailed explanation of Secwépemc laws of land stewardship see Mariann and Ron Igna ’s book Secwépemc People, Land, and Laws: Yerí7 Re Stsq'ey's-kucw (2017).
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My mom told me about our connection to the land because I wanted to be a di in an h n I a ho and I didn’t kno nothing about y o l or anything. I kept bothering her and bothering her and at that time she was into alcoholism, but finally one day we were walking on and she says “ that th r ? That’s di in .” As sh oints to a dand lion, “ tomach medicine.” I didn’t know that at th ti . o, I’ do n th r and I go to i k it. h says “If you just tak that, it’ll just b a d ad lant. If you ant y h lp, what do you gotta do?” I said “You gotta ask.” h says “You gotta ask r s tfully.” h says, “It’s th sa ith any lant, you gotta ask aus ’ you’r asking it to giv its lif . o that r s t and v rything ak s it di in .” Ev n h n gather our foods, when tak lif … W also do a ceremony when we take lif , aus ’ if a four l gg d is giving its lif , that’s on of our r lativ s giving its lif so our ss n an continue. When I give thanks to my relative for giving its life and I consume it, it makes me calm and healthy. Wher as if th r ’s f ar in th ani al and th y’r tr at d badly lik in th slaught r hous s…It senses fear because it hears the scream of the pain and it gets chased up. So, by the time it gets there to be killed it’s full of negative adrenaline and that kind of fear, adrenaline is not healthy to consume. We consume that fear within ours lv s aking us unh althy… Our connection to the land, being thankful and humble in a respectful way keeps that healthiness in our food, keeps us in good physical condition. Plus, we have to work to go get our food v ryday…So, getting our food from the land gives us physical activity and a respectful way of getting our food (Silleattsa, or ‘t o blank ts, Chi f of Chi fs’ (Randy Williams), Splatsin Knowledge Keeper and community healer).
Participants upheld their responsibility for the stewardship of the land through practicing land-based activities in respectful ways and through giving thanks to Mother Earth through prayers or ceremony. Many parti i ants r iv d th a t of “ rot ting”, “ l ansing”, or “ aring for” the natural environment as a way to promote holistic wellbeing. The connection that
Splatsin peoples have with their traditional territories is also about responsibility. Each person has a responsibility to take care of the places that one is tied to physically, emotionally and spiritually, as expressed by Elder Shirley Bird:
Wh n I’ out th r i king b rri s and b for I l av , and leave my home, I say y ray rs. Trav ling to h r v r ’r i king b rri s I an alr ady s th berries and I can see them swaying. They have a sound. It’s lik you an h ar th alling you. B aus v rything’s aliv and h n you’r i king b rries th r ’s b rry icking songs... some of us are taught, but others may be born with that gift to know all the berry-picking songs...Whil ’r singing th songs I also say a prayer that the songs cleanse after the song is sang and to give thanks to the 85
berries and not to over-pick them. Just take what is needed and leave the rest because the animals too need to be fed, or maybe even the ancestors too because th y’r al ays th r ith us h r v r go. W ust al ays l av so thing for them, to share with the ancestors, we must share with the animals [too] and ayb v n tak a food latt r and tak it to th at r b aus th r ’s at r spirits that need to be fed, things that live in the water that need to be fed. We an’t al ays think of ours lv s, ust al ays do this and respect and always pray for our berry season for the oncoming years (Shirley Bird, Splatsin Elder).
Another common theme was the need to consume foods from the land (country foods) obtained through subsistence activities for physical wellbeing. Country foods were considered much healthier than the store-bought foods, which were associated with poor health outcomes like diabetes and cancers. Splatsin Elder Marie Thomas briefly recalls the types of foods her granny used to prepare for her and her siblings, which were staples of the Splatsin land-based diet:
W ll, at th Indian s hool had to at hat th y gav us… But th n h n a out I r b r y on granny sh ’d al ays ak sur had our otato s and our vegetables and our meat. But we never did have all these fancy hamburgers, it was deer meat, moose meat, fish, she even tried getting me to eat tri ! Th y’d ash it and th y’d fix it, th y just lov d that! And th y us d to at th fish ggs, th y’d ix that ith th ir saskatoons and ix it with a little flour in it. W r ally lik that and th y’d bak th ir fish ggs and sav it lik that, no they can it, can their salmon or the deer meat they can. Make stewed meat and put vegetables in it or just leave it just plain meat. You gotta be careful h n you’r canning salmon or deer meat, you gotta use a pressure cooker. And they dried a lot of the fruit, they used to dry it and they use to have attics up above their house and th y’d dry it u th r b aus of th h at; so th y’d al ays hav dri d saskatoons and any kind of berries, and th y’d i k a l s. Th y’d string it behind their stove and dry their apples like that (Marie Thomas, Splatsin Elder).
As expressed by Splatsin Elders and community knowledge keepers, beyond the nutritional and medicinal benefits of land-based food systems, there is a deeply spiritual aspect of ethical food harvesting practices. Participating in land-based activities not only sustains physical health through nutritional benefits and physical activity, it also allows individuals to connect spiritually with Mother Earth, the Creator and all other-than human beings on the land. This is important 86 because it allows individuals to pursue simultaneously physical and spiritual connections to their traditional territories, which is beneficial for spiritual and mental wellbeing. Caring for the land or stewardship of the land further provides social, emotional, and mental health and wellbeing benefits such as social cohesion, and sense of cultural identity and community. Engaging in land- based activities also builds positive social relationships in that these activities are usually performed in groups, meaning that people have to learn how to collaborate peacefully to achieve certain tasks.
3.4.2 Splatsin land-based knowledge
Interviews revealed that Splatsin ways of knowing are intrinsically tied to the land.
Participants often spoke of the many ways that traditional territories house knowledge, stories, history and cultural or family memories. Visiting physical places on the land prompts storytelling, reinforces connections to family/ancestors and allows for the transmission of cultural values and beliefs. Participants understood the process of both teaching and learning traditional knowledge as a way to strengthen families and communities, generating new possibilities for resisting the ongoing impacts of colonialism. Furthermore, land-based teachings and storytelling allowed Elders to pass on knowledge about proper ways of being in the world, ways of interacting with other humans, animals and spirits, and ways of being in relationship with the land. These accounts aligned with the common themes in the literature related to
Indigenous knowledges and storytelling traditions.
For example, Splatsin Elder Nuxnuxskaca cts’e7i7elt explains the work that Elders must continue to do in regards to passing on knowledge about the land to younger generations in order to build a resilient community and Nation:
... it’s gonna tak a lot of us to do the actual support, educating, and teaching of how we need to survive on the land and the reasons that our ancestors gave us to 87
tak ar of this land ’r on, Moth r Earth. We need to revisit our responsibilities, some of the things that we could be doing is revisiting our mountains and waters, and learning about our medicines and our roles as grandparents, parents and as a person and maybe as youth, adolescents and children. It seems that we are really lacking the responsibilities that each person holds, the respect that needs to be there, how to live together as a unit, a family, a community...and how we fit in with the land, the animals, the water, the mountains, medicines. We really need to walk that survival becaus it’s meaningful to our Nation and persons and communities (Nuxnuxskaca cts’e7i7elt, or “woman fawn”, Julianna Alexander, Splatsin Elder).
Edna F lix x ands on this by sugg sting that th Cr ator’s t a hings about thi al ays to live on the land and with each other are at the core of Splatsin community resilience:
The Creator gives you gifts to help people and your role is to teach one person to be better than you were, you have to freely give what was given to you. Not everyone has access to all the teachings, it should be freely accessible to anyone who wants to learn, not be kept private. Our people always stood our people up, they never shut them down. The Creator talked about forgiveness, in order to help build each other up. Through our teachings, the community has to learn morals and values, how to live on the land. This is what the Creator puts you here to live like. To pass on the morals and values that make the community strong (Edna Felix, Splatsin Knowledge Keeper and member of Chief and Council).
Other participants spoke of the act of going out on the land to pick medicines as important for the continuation of Indigenous knowledge, storytelling traditions and connections to particular areas on the land. Further than that, sharing traditional knowledge was seen as having positive wellbeing outcomes in that it increases self-confidence and self-sufficiency. As expressed by Trina:
Our people lost a whole generation of teachings of how to survive on the land, so now we kind of rely on workshops so that we can re-learn the teachings that we lost because of colonialism. The traditional medicine workshop that we had in May I thought was a good way to get people in the community back on the land and teach them about medicines, places where our ancestors used to pick them, ho to r ar th and hat th y’r us d for. Th n, h n o out of that workshop we can pass on that knowledge to our families and our friends, you always have to pass on the knowledge. Knowledge should be freely shared, to hoard any kind of traditional knowledge goes against the laws of sharing...Coyote talks about the laws of sharing, for us that was law and you couldn’t violate that. Having that knowledge gives you confidence in doing traditional activities. It 88
gives you a sense of pride in who you are (Trina Antoine, Splatsin Knowledge Keeper).
3.4.3 Land-based healing
Some participants expressed that taking part in cultural activities such as berry picking sustains emotional wellness by increasing feelings of happiness and peacefulness and allowing people to escape negativity:
When I was out picking berries, I was happy! I as ar fr ! I didn’t v n think about th b ars, I didn’t think about ildlif around I as just ont nt just i king. Th r as no booz , no… or anything you kno , just th r to i k (Laura William, Splatsin Elder).
Similarly, Yawyaht all xaxa7 t’e boonllp alluded to the healing benefits of practicing land- based activities as well as how these practices foster community cohesion, through the re-telling of a story:
This is a story from the tó:lō aus ’ D nnis and I liv d in Chilli a k at th oast and I know it happened here too. The men would go hunting and the women ould gath r and th y’d b doing th ir s ing—this is days gone back—th y’d b doing th ir s ing or hat v r th y’r doing do n by th riv r, a hol bun h of th , and th y’d start talking about, “Oh, r b r oor so and so?” “Oh y a, h di d about t n y ars ago” and, “Oh, h l ft his if and his thr kids.” “H as a good hunt r.” On rson ould start rying. Pr tty soon th y’r all rying! This was a way to expunge that sadness and yet come away feeling better about it all...lik you r saying, aus talk d about...you kno you’r out i king [b rri s] and th n you look around and v rybody ls is, it’s that s ns of o unity right? That llb ing as a grou , aus ’ I can sit here and feel as h althy as I ant and if I’ not art of a bigg r grou hy do s it att r? ( awyaht all xaxa7 t’e boonllp, or “strong and smart Juniper”, Gloria Morgan, Splatsin Knowledge Keeper and former Chief).
Expanding on these ideas, Knowledge Keeper Trina Antoine also spoke of berry-picking and land-based activities in general as being a form of stress relief and a way to support networks of family and community relationships, with subsequent healing benefits:
The other day my friend was upset and so I thought I would try to cheer her up so I asked her if she wanted to go berry picking with me. We went and picked sx s tog th r b aus I thought th r ’s no b tt r ay to r li v str ss than just 89
being outside breathing fresh air and focusing on picking... Drumming and singing ar good ays to ak you f l ha y too if you’r f ling do n or stressed because they take you back to memories with your family on the land (Trina Antoine, Splatsin Knowledge Keeper).
Many participants also stated that they communicated with the spirits of rocks and trees when dealing with problems or sadness. Communicating with the spirits of the land provided healing in that it is a form of meditation or a way to release negative energy and emotions and absorb good energies. For example, Elder Marie Thomas alluded to the healing benefits of being out on the land:
I feel well when I go pick berries. You know, see the beauty out there and you learn about different plants and different streams or creeks I never knew that was out there. I know my sister-in-la sh told “Co on Mari ! I’ gonna tak you u th ountains, ’r gonna s nd so ti u th r .” And sh says “W ’r gonna do so h aling.” h says, “Th ountains ar h aling. You don’t just go u th r , you gotta b thankful for hat you hav . That’s h r our food is fro and an find so h aling a littl asi r.” h took out th r and sh says, “W ’ll find a tr and ’ll go to that tr .” And sh says, “You ask it, you talk to it, you thank it, you ask it to take all this, you know, whatever is insid and hug it and hold it and t ll that tr don’t l t it hurt anybody; don’t giv it to anybody to hurt anybody, it’s just to h l you. You say thanks for b ing th r .” h says, “And you al ays find a creek and a tree and you get a branch and you go in that r k and you di it in that at r and you don’t r ally hit yours lf, you kno , it’s lik you’r bl ssing it. Th n you go and lay do n in th water, the creek, and you wash and you tell it, “Tak it a ay, all this uglin ss, all this hat v r and just go but don’t giv it to anybody, don’t l t it hurt anybody.” Then you come out, you find a big rock and you go and you hug it and then you kneel, you talk and you pray in your own way...And boy did that help when I lost on of y kids! And it r ally hit , that r ally h l d… and you holl r and you scream, you know, you can feel whatever it is that was in you, that was hurting. You ry and you just giv it all out and if th r ’s a littl bit l ft you go back up and do th sa . It’s just b autiful (Marie Thomas, Splatsin Elder).
Splatsin Elder Nuxnuxskaca cts’e7i7elt also spoke of the therapeutic aspects of being out on the land reconnecting with the animals, water, air, and medicines:
Just being around the land by itself and looking and seeing all the beautiful hat v r… hat v r’s surviving out th r . Th b auty of th diff r nt lants, di in s and th diff r nt olors around. You kno o l don’t s to look at that as therapeutic but it is because you respect what you see. You respect the 90
beauty and respect the animals and different little lives that are part of all of that and th r ’s all kinds of littl r atur s and all kinds of ins ts and diff r nt animals that have a role in everything to purify the land, Mother Earth h rs lf… arth, at r. Ev rything has a job and our bigg st job is b ing r s onsibl for aking sur that o l ar r s ting hat th y’r alking on, hat th y’r br athing, hat th y drink (Nuxnuxskaca cts’e7i7elt, or “ o an fa n”, Julianna Alexander, Splatsin Elder).
3.5 Discussion: Impacts of environmental dispossession on Splatsin wellbeing
Experiences of direct and indirect forms of environmental dispossession undermine the sacred connections that nourish the relationship between Splatsin peoples and Mother Earth and between one another. Discussion surrounding the health and wellbeing impacts of dispossession included several outcomes, such as increased alcoholism and abuse, mostly towards Indigenous women. Participants linked health concerns such as extreme alcoholism in the Splatsin community to trauma stemming from the various colonial practices of land-theft, assimilation and genocide:
The Red Road, what we call sobriety, is a lonely road to travel. The more traditional o l didn’t onsu al ohol, it as introdu d in th b ginning by trad . On , al ohol g ts in th syst h n it’s not social or recreational any or , you’r no addi t d. Al ohol is b ing us d in th o unity as a crutch due to not wanting to deal with family traumas and other traumas (Edna Felix, Splatsin Knowledge Keeper and member of Chief and Council).
Yawyaht all xaxa7 t’e boonllp further elaborates on the complex trauma that her community is facing from residential schools and foster care that is leading to decreased mental and emotional wellbeing in the form of addictions, mental health issues, and abusive behavior:
My last year as Chief I went to a conference in Vancouver and it was put on by the Ending Violence Against Women Provincial Group. There was a psychologist from Toronto, she was amazing and before that I had gone to a dinner at my fri nd’s hous in Burnha and sh said “W ll ho any o l ar th r in your o unity?” and I said “About 400 living th r .” B aus had b n talking about so of th hall ng s in our o unity and sh said “If th r ’s only 400 o l th n hy an’t you fix things?” and I didn’t giv h r and ans r b aus I didn’t hav an ans r at th ti but this sy hologist fro Toronto said “Th r ’s PT D and th n th r ’s o l x PT D and PT D is h n a rson go s 91
away like to a desert storm, they suffer for the six months or ho v r long th y’r ov r th r and th n th y o ho . Th y’v gro n u ith a hit i k t f n and mom and dad and Sunday dinner. They suffered traumas but then they came home and everything was still pretty good except they had suffered and they had to b tr at d for that. Co l x PT D is h n you’v suff r d trau a, aft r trauma, after trauma throughout your life and if you look at almost any person in this o unity and I an start ith ... Th young r o l I don’t kno a lot b aus th y’r young r but o l y ag , I’v s n th drinking that nt on in this o unity, I’v s n th hysi al abus , th vid n of hysi al abus because of women walking around with black eyes and big lips or bruises on their ar s, I’v s n ov rty, I’v s n…I kno about th s xual abus s that nt on. So someone who suffers trauma, after trauma, after trauma their whole life it is complex PTSD. So, the symptoms of complex PTSD are lack of motivation, depression, obesity, unemployment, lack of education. These are all the symptoms of o l x PT D b aus you g t to a oint h r you’r just al ost unabl to move unless you have some treatment ( awyaht all xaxa7 t’e boonllp, or ‘strong and s art Juni r’ (Gloria Morgan), latsin Kno l dg K r and for r Chief).
Participants also identified dispossession in the form of reserve creation as the leading cause of poverty and food insecurity among Splatsin peoples. Moreover, participants expressed that being assigned land in the reserve system undermines the very connections to land that are meaningful—being connected to traditional territories and being assigned land are much different:
You kno , that’s th oth r r stri tion is you’r r stri t d in our o n…th y all it r s rv . A lot of o l th y don’t hav v hi l s, th y don’t hav funding, th restriction is because of their poverty level and I see that as a number one big area because you know, it restricts them from going to do the things they need to do like hunting, fishing, becoming self-sufficient with the foods and the different things th y n d. Th y’r isolat d on th r s rv ... th y an’t afford to f d th ir fa ili s or you no , th y hav n’t got nough funding to do hat th y n d to do like hunting and even though other people do that for people, it’s still not nough. No th r ’s not nough ani als to rovid fa ili s ith b aus th environment and everything is less and less healthy and it’s not nearby. The animals ov to h r v r is h althy so that’s furth r and furth r a ay, furth r travels that an’t afford to travel that far (Silleattsa, or “two blankets, Chief of Chiefs”, Randy Williams, Splatsin Knowledge Keeper and community healer).
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Dispossession in the form of environmental pollution and climate change was also discussed as having resulted in visible decreases in the physical health of individuals. Increasing rates of diabetes and cancers were linked to a decreased capacity to access healthy foods from the land:
Farmers on our land use chemicals like pesticides to kill weeds and to grow foods then the animals on that farm are exposed to those chemicals and then those meats are sold to humans, so we consume those chemicals too. Our health in the o unity is failing b aus ’r b ing for d to at ro ss d foods b aus we an’t find as any foods fro th land, so hav to buy food from the store instead of wild game. We never used to eat those foods before. We barely have a ss to la s that hav n’t b n tou h d by ollutants or ani als that hav n’t been exposed to synthetic injections or chemicals that cause cancer (Donna Antoine, Splatsin Elder).
Overall, participants identified a link between the intergenerational transmission of trauma and the poor health outcomes currently faced by the Splatsin community. Many scholars have also explored the link between trauma and negative health outcomes through the theoretical lens of ‘Histori al Trau a’ (Wesley-Esquimaux and Smolewski 2004; Sotero 2006; Kurtz et al.
2008; Mohatt et al. 2014). The common argument within these orks is that Indig nous o l s’ collective memories of trauma from various experiences of environmental dispossession— cultural genocide, assimilation, systematic racism, removal from homelands, removal of children, among others—are passed down inter-generationally (Wesley-Esquimaux and
Smolewski 2004; Sotero 2006; Kurtz et al. 2008; Mohatt et al. 2014). This results in higher rates of addictions, poverty, diabetes, homelessness, domestic violence, family dysfunctions, and an overall lower health status for many generations of Indigenous people, particularly Indigenous women (Kurtz et al. 2008). The premise of historical trauma theory is that there is a higher prevalence of health problems amongst groups of people that share a common history of oppression, victimization and massive group trauma exposure—even several generations after 93 the original trauma took place (Wesley-Esquimaux and Smolewski 2004; Sotero 2006; Kurtz et al. 2008; Mohatt et al. 2014).
Moreover, dispossession weakened connections to Splatsin history and culture, and limited access to traditional lands and economic opportunities. The loss of language speakers in the
latsin o unity du to th s ttl rs’ assi ilation ta ti s has disrupted the transmission of
Splatsin cultural knowledge, resulting in negative health outcomes. Many Splatsin members expressed that they lacked the knowledge on how to actually live from the land because the
Elders no longer shared the teachings with the youth. This meant that even if people had access to land-based foods, they lacked the knowledge of proper hunting, fishing, trapping and harvesting practices, thus having to rely on store-bought foods, which are significantly less nutritious and less accessible due to poverty on the reserve. Furthermore, the lack of access to berry picking patches and hunting and fishing grounds due to private property, pollution, resource extraction and highway construction was another determinant of food insecurity in the community leading to a decrease in overall wellbeing.
3.6 Improving Splatsin wellbeing through land-based resiliency
Discussions about resistance resulted in a list of recommendations for community resiliency through reconnecting with land, cultural teachings, history, and spirituality. Splatsin members resist dispossession in various ways, and some strategies are subtler than others, such as introducing themselves using their Shuswap name or “Indian na ” rather than their English name. This is a response to colonizers’ attempts at erasing Splatsin identity by forcing them to adopt English names and forget their traditional name as a way to assimilate them into settler society. Other forms of Splatsin resistance included disregarding fenced off land due to private property as a form of asserting the inherent right of Indigenous peoples to access their traditional 94 territories without having to ask for ‘ r issions’ from colonizers. For instance, when asked whether private property was restricting access to important hunting, fishing and berry picking spots, Splatsin Elder Shirley Bird replied:
Well, people will say so but to me, rebel as I am, those signs to r ally don’t an anything. I an, I an go th r and say, “You kno so thing? Ev ry time I see a no trespassing sign, I still go there anyway because you have no right to tak hat r ally b long d to our o l in th first la and hat you’r doing is r ally abusing th land, you don’t kno ho to look aft r Moth r Earth” And I says, “Ev n th at r that you us , do you r ally look aft r th at r? And is this your sign? Ho any tr s did it tak to ak this sign? I said “What ar you l aving b hind for your hildr n? That’s hat you’r t a hing th and you’r not a v ry good rol od l. As for our o l , ’r still struggling and soon ho do you kno that you on’t b o ing to us asking for h l in ord r to surviv ? Why do you ant to b so gr dy? And for hat I s that I n d I say, “I’ still going to gather and if you wanna pull out that truck then you go right ahead because that first shot b tt r o b aus h n I g t u again I’ going aft r you, I’ s rious.” I says, “And if you don’t und rstand our ays b aus kno ho to surviv , our lif is si l and your signs don’t an a thing to because this land does not belong to you, whether you paid for it or not. You annot tak it ith you h n you go.” I sho d th , I i k d u a handful of dirt, I turn around and ask th “This is ho you lik to tr at your oth r? You ant to s ll h r?” I said, “That alr ady rov s to that you have no respect for your ar nt, you biologi al ar nt, right h r , all ar this and I’ll rov to you if I cut you and I cut myself, our blood is no different than yours. Do we need to go any furth r? I says, “Wh n I’ gon I ant thos signs tak n down, or I will take them down myself. Our people have every right as well as you do, this does not b long to you. This is shar d.” (Shirley Bird, Splatsin Elder).
A key theme in the interviews was that the relationship between the Elders and the youth was at risk. Elders worried that youth were spending significantly less time learning from them mainly due to the influence of technology (internet, video games, and phones). Thus, resistance included reconnecting the youth with the land and teachings of the Elders as a form of community resiliency. All participants stressed the importance of involving youth in cultural activities. Splatsin Knowledge Keeper Edna Felix was quick to note that this did not entail total dependence upon the land for sustenance. Instead, it was about keeping the teachings alive in 95 order to foster a strong sense of cultural identity as a way of forming healthy and resilient communities:
Th youth don’t s int r st d in going out on th land b aus th y’r too involved with technology so what I think would be really important is for our community to start thinking of ways to get the youth more involved so that we an k our t a hings aliv . W an’t go ba k to th ay our o l us d to live but we can keep the teachings alive. I think it’s also about th kno l dg keepers who had the knowledge but went to residential schools and came back thinking that their knowledge was not valuable to pass on. Through the fault of th r sid ntial s hooling th kno l dg asn’t ass d do n (Edna Felix, Splatsin Knowledge Keeper and member of Chief and Council).
Participants also discussed the importance of getting back on the land as a community or gathering together as a Nation in order to foster community pride, reinforce a positive identity as
Splatsin peoples and create opportunities for the transmission of Splatsin knowledges:
Bringing all th Eld rs tog th r, not just in our o unity. I b t you th y’d lov to h ar a h oth r’s stori s. I don’t v n think I’v s n any of th g t tog th r y t. Lik invit th all and say “ ’v r ar d this big f ast for you b aus honor you.”...And bring th youth ith th Eld rs to g t th talking, shar the stories, so they can understand, so they can feel welcomed... The Elders have all th ans rs aus ’ th y’v s n all of it, th y’v b n around long r than us (John-Paul Thomas, Splatsin Knowledge Keeper).
Language revitalization was listed as another major form of community resiliency.
Participants described how the decline of Indigenous languages when constructed as “in vitabl ” due to an aging population of fluent speakers and an increase in young people moving away from the reserve, obscures the role that the church and government played in trying to erase
Indigenous cultures. Discussion about resiliency often centered on the importance of Splatsin language programs as a form of enhancing cultural knowledge within the community. Elders were happy to see these initiatives take place in their community through the Splatsin 96
Tsm7aksaltn18 (Splatsin Teaching Centre) Society and through the language and culture program at the Shihiya elementary school:
I’ l arning our languag b aus I’v n v r s ok n it and it’s b n r ally hard for to r ally s ak it. I kno just bits of it. Th kids, th y’r l arning th language down at the Shihiya school and down at the daycare. Sometimes I ask th or th y h ar trying to say so thing and th y say, “Grand a, that’s not ho you say it.” W ll th n t ll , l t’s say it tog th r. Oh! Okay, thank you, thank you for t a hing [laughs]. You kno , ’r both t a h rs, t a h a h oth r… th kids, an’t forg t that (Marie Thomas, Splatsin Elder).
In discussions about the importance of the land to the wellbeing of the community, participants often spoke about the healing powers of taking part in cultural land-based activities:
Learn the language, sing the songs, beat the drum, gather together as families... that’s hat ak s us strong, holding on to thos things that ak us f l good. Ho an you f l bad h n you’r singing and dru ing? Ho an you f l bad h n you’r out oll ting Indian t a? You an’t! ( awyaht all xaxa7 t’e boonllp, or “strong and smart Juniper”, Gloria Morgan, Splatsin Knowledge Keeper and former Chief).
Elder Laura William also alluded to the benefits of practicing cultural activities like ceremony, dancing, singing and drumming for community cohesion and building a strong sense of cultural identity:
It’s a ay to b roud of ho you ar . W hav rid and when you have pride for yourself, it shows that you have pride for your people. When you sing, if you’r a good sing r you’r not only singing for yours lf, you’r singing for your people, everything is for the community. You represent the community, it’s not just you (Laura William, Splatsin Elder).
Discussions about land-based resiliency often included ideas about future ways of reconnecting youth with their cultures through things such as incorporating an Elder-youth mentorship program in school curriculums. The idea was that Elders could take their students out on the land at various times throughout the year and provide land-based learning to groups of
18 Tsm7aksaltn is the Shuswap name for the Splatsin Teaching Center as stated on the Splatsin band website (2018). http://www.splatsin.org/
97 youth, such as storytelling, picking berries, drum-making, etc. The goal would be to re-establish the traditional role of Elders as teachers as a way to enhance the transmission of knowledge from
Elders to youth and foster meaningful relationships with place:
There are fluent speakers, you know, instead of just waiting let us [the Elders] do it and allow the students to receive the credits through education because they deserve to carry on those traditions... say like Julianna, she could do a course on First Nations studies. I would like to s that ontinu on b aus that’s on ay of knowing, getting to know our history and for it to keep going...that will help teach us about colonization, assimilation, the whole nine hundred yards. We need that, we need to come out of the pity me mode, whatever, because I feel that speaking for myself who has gone through one, two, three, four generations and I can still see the residential school issues, the foster home issues, the sixties scoop and I start asking questions: “Ho an I do this for y hild? What can I stay away from? What can I look for within the schools? What about the teachers? What about the principals? What about th s hool board?” I say, “W ll, if you’r looking for that do your best to be in contact with others like our own people who have maybe the knowledge for t a hing our o n o l hat it is ’r looking for.” I think th r should be a way of receiving credits. Right from daycare, right up to grade twelve, to college and university (Shirley Bird, Splatsin Elder).
Time spent on the land was also identified as being critically important for ensuring the transmission of cultural values of respect and reciprocity with Mother Earth. Participants expressed how having a strong connection to traditional territories bonds the community together. Activities like the annual Sunflower Picnic in Salmon River were discussed as an opportunity both to spend time on the land and to teach children about proper ways to treat the land and the various ways that Splatsin people are connected to it. The Sunflower Picnic brings families together and creates opportunities to share knowledge about local plants, medicines and animals. It also put forward the teaching about putting down tobacco as a way of communicating with all of creation and offering respect to Mother Earth for providing food and medicines for the community:
All those kids were waiting for me when they had the picnic because they all had drums and they all wanted to drum with me... That connection and that strength has to be reinforced... I should spend more time and energy with those youth 98
b aus that’s our futur g n ration and that’s h r should b s nding a lot of our time teaching on the land the different knowledges and that to promote respect when they go out on the land (Silleattsa, or “two blankets, Chief of Chiefs”, Randy Williams), Splatsin Knowledge Keeper and community healer).
All of the above initiatives for community resiliency point to the central roles of language, cultural strength and connections to traditional territories in sustaining Splatsin wellbeing. As argu d by Bro n t al. (2012: 16) “th oss ssion of languag and land r at s s a s for th
x r ssion of id ntity and th x ri n of onn tions.” D s it th ov r h l ingly da aging impacts of both direct and indirect forms of environmental dispossession, the Splatsin community continues to resist colonial oppression by reconnecting with their lands, cultures and spiritualties. Furthermore, Splatsin peoples are reclaiming the knowledges of their ancestors as a way of deconstructing colonial ways of forming knowledge to recreate alternative ways of knowing about the world. Reclaiming Splatsin knowledges and traditions is not about returning to a frozen Indigenous past, it is more about using that knowledge to make sense of the present and imagine sustainable futures.
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Chapter 4: Reflections on the Contributions and Challenges of Community-Based Research within the Academy 4.1 Introduction
In the spirit of decolonization and decolonizing methodologies, this thesis utilized a community-based participatory research approach to examine Splatsin perspectives of wellbeing.
This work provides qualitative evidence on the impacts of historic and ongoing processes of environmental dispossession on all aspects of wellbeing. By engaging with Splatsin Knowledges, this research also contributes a place-based understanding of wellbeing as well as a list of strategies developed by the Splatsin community to resist and refuse dispossession through the reattachment of minds, bodies, and spirits to their lands and culture. In this chapter, I outline the contributions of my work, and reflect on the incongruence between and academic program and a community-based thesis project.
4.2 Contributions
This thesis contributes to the emerging anthropology of wellbeing literature in three ways.
First, there are no existing studies directly exploring the culturally specific dimensions of wellbeing maintained via latsin o l ’s land-based activities. There is a rich body of literature regarding Secwépemc laws, land-use, social and political order, relationships to land, land stewardship, oral traditions, cultural and spiritual practices, language revitalization, traditional ecological knowledge and the enduring impacts of colonization on Secwépemc lives
(Teit 1909; Manuel and Posluns 1974; Ignace 1998; Ignace and Ignace 2004; Ignace 2008;
Turner and Turner 2008; Billy 2009; Michel 2012; McIlwraith 2015; Ignace et al. 2016; Thomas et al. 2016; Ignace and Ignace 2017; Sellars 2017; Christian 2017; Manuel 2017). Yet, there are no studies available for the Secwépemc particularly looking at the intimate relationship between the natural ecosystem and wellbeing. In order to address the gap in the literature, I have explored 100 a Splatsin perspective on the relationship between land and wellbeing by seeking both: to prioritize community perspectives on wellbeing and the causes of health inequities; and to employ an approach that would encourage a list of recommendations for land-based resiliency.
Following the suggestion of Elders, this project engages with multiple knowledges including the knowledge of Splatsin peoples who are not considered Elders, but still hold valuable knowledge.
These perspectives are often overlooked because of the traditional role that Elders hold as teachers and keepers of local Indigenous knowledge. However, Elders stressed that this work would be enriched by the valuable knowledge and experiences held by all members of the
Splatsin community, no matter their age or status. The voices of Indigenous peoples are seldom heard within dominant biomedical health research, meaning that there is a lack of understanding about the culturally-specific constructs of Indigenous wellbeing that are maintained via land- based activities. My work emphasizes that Elders and Knowledge Keepers hold important visions for the future resiliency of their communities, including clear strategies for improving wellbeing.
Secondly, similar to anthropological research employing dispossession to frame the health inequities experienced by Indigenous communities, I was able to examine the intimate connections between the wellbeing of the land and the wellbeing of the people. However, the use of a community-based approach provided the opportunity to explore the processes of dispossession unique to the Splatsin community. Thus, this project provides qualitative evidence of local impacts of environmental dispossession on the lives of Splatsin peoples—demonstrating how ongoing colonialism leads to emotional, spiritual, physical and spiritual harm, including a compromised ability to share traditional knowledge with younger generations. The act of acknowledging environmental dispossession and its consequences on Indigenous wellbeing 101 provides a critical first step towards the creation of conditions and policies—particularly land repatriation—that may improve the wellbeing and resiliency of Indigenous peoples. Health care programs and institutions must acknowledge the rippling effect of colonial processes of dispossession on the social determinants of health in Indigenous communities, and they must work in solidarity with communities to create opportunities for reconnecting with the land as a form of holistic healing.
The third contribution of this work is a list of strategies and actions developed by participants to resist ongoing processes of environmental dispossession through (re)attachments to land, culture, and community. This work can also be situated within an emerging body of literature exploring the ways that Indigenous peoples continue to practice resiliency to ongoing colonialism. Importantly, Elders and Knowledge Keepers identified how land continues to play a central role in Splatsin identity. Thus, creating opportunities for sharing Splatsin Knowledges, fostering strong relationships with place and with each other as well as land-based community driven programs were identified as ways to improve wellbeing. Many participants were hopeful and about initiatives in their community geared at improving wellbeing through land-based resiliency. These strategies included promoting community activism, ceremony, harvesting traditional foods, making space for community gardening practices, reconnecting youth with their lands and teachings and encouraging local schools to include language and culture revitalization programs.
4.3 Challenges of community-based work within the academy
4.3.1 Time constraints
One of my biggest worries with using a community-based participatory approach is that it is a long-term process requiring significant commitment on the part of all parties involved. My 102 concern was mainly the limited amount of time given for the research portion of a thesis in a
Mast r’s rogra . Th a ount of ti allo at d for a tually building aningful r lationshi s and working with a community is limited. CBPR approaches are likely slower and lengthier than other non-collaborative methods, raising a number of potential challenges for those seeking to use this approach (Menzies 2004). Building trusting, consenting and respectful relationships with communities takes time. After forming those relationships, there is also time needed to take into account all the opinions of community collaborators in the process of designing a culturally appropriate and meaningful project. Castleden et al. (2012) provide a very honest account of the challenges of taking a community-engaged approach to research. For instan , in th ir ork, “’I spent the first year drinking tea’: Ex loring Canadian univ rsity r s ar h rs’ rs tiv s on community-based participatory research involving Indigenous o l s” they speak to the time and effort it takes on the part of both parties involved to build trusting relationships that translate into research partnerships:
My D an ask d t o y ars into y roj t hy I hadn’t ublish d y t out of it and he had no idea what I was talking about when I told him I spent the first year drinking tea, you know? Because it took several visits to the community, a lot of patience sitting down and talking to people and deciding how would be the best way of going about doing this, getting them to a point where they trusted me to be a partner in doing [research] with them and to do it the right way, before we ever really embarked on collecting any kind of data (Castleden et al. 2012:168).
Without a pre-existing relationship with the community one wishes to work with, it is almost unrealistic that a student enrolled in a two-year academic program could conduct an ethical, respectful, collaborative and meaningful research project (Castleden et al. 2012). In that sense, I was very fortunate to have my advisor, Tad McIlwraith. It was through his long-standing partnership with Splatsin peoples that I was welcomed into their community. 103
4.3.2 An ironic response to decolonizing methodologies?
In some ways, this thesis is a somewhat ironic response to decolonized methodologies in that
I adopt the principles of decolonizing methods in all aspects of this work, particularly with the use of a community-based participatory research approach and yet, the process of actually putting the information together in a thesis is very detached from the community work. This process has required me to analyze “data” and put it all into a highly structured, highly academic and confining structure of a thesis that is not necessarily accessible to the community. I partly frame this work as a response to the hegemony of Western knowledge and research methods within the academy, and yet, in some ways I still have to abide by the requirements of the academy when putting together this work. I felt a bit conflicted about the terminology that is usually used in qualitative research, particularly with th us of th ord “data” to refer to the voices and experiences of the Splatsin peoples that worked with me on this project. I found that
riting about “data oll tion” and “data analysis” in a way dehumanizes the people who shared really meaningful and traumatic experiences of loss and resistance. And so, I purposely did not in lud a d tail d s tion on “data analysis” in this ork. It is hard to imagine what a decolonized thesis would look like when there is little influence from the Elders and Knowledge
Keepers when it comes to creating the format that this thesis should follow.
In conversations between my advisor and I throughout the writing and revisions process, he noted how ironic it was that it took almost sixty pages to get to the voices of Splatsin peoples due to the need for an extensive literature review. From the Elders and community Knowledge
Keepers I learned stuff that was not in the literature review that I was expected to write. And yet, in a typical thesis structure, the knowledge of participants is usually listed and deconstructed und r th “r sults” section. This enforces the idea that participants are to be talked about, not 104 talked from. Participants are data. If not published in a peer reviewed academic journal, the knowledge of participants is often not considered “valid kno l dg ”. On a more positive note, multiple Indigenous scholars have used Indigenous Knowledges and nation-specific methodologies as a way to rewrite what is known and can be known within the academy. This is a direct form of resistance against previous research on Indigenous peoples that would later result in the presumed assumption that academics know more about Indigenous communities than the citizens themselves.
Moreover, in my experience there was a differing value placed by the university and the community on the outcomes of this work. As I have stressed throughout this thesis, academia valorizes particular forms of knowledge creation (particularly publication in peer-reviewed journals) or “a ad i ontributions” while the Splatsin community, values efforts that seek to make meaningful social change and assert Splatsin rights to self-determination. For instance, during my discussions about what the goal of this research should be, a conversation I had with community healer Randy Williams really hit home, he said:
It’s all ll and good to think about ho th land i rov s h alth, but hat ar your recommendations? How can people get back on the land? What does this realistically look like for Splatsin? What are some actions that we can take now to make changes? (Silleattsa, or “t o blank ts, Chi f of Chi fs”, Randy Williams, Splatsin Knowledge Keeper and community healer).
The concern was not whether or not this thesis would go on to be published; instead, the people wanted to know how the results of this work would lead to action. Although the public issues anthropology program is working towards prioritizing actions that positively affect community lives, the time constraints of a two-year program and of lack of funding to put towards creating meaningful social change create some barriers to achieving that goal. 105
Furthermore, there is an incongruence between the ethical guidelines of universities that are colonial in nature and community-specific codes of ethics for conducting research. As I mentioned previously, the Tri-Council Policy Statement (TCPS2 2014) guides the ethical conduct of students at the University of Guelph undertaking research projects with Indigenous
o uniti s. This do u nt l arly stat s that its od of thi s is off r d “in th s irit of r s t” and should si ly s rv as a fra ork for th thi al ondu t of r s ar h involving
Indigenous communities, rather than overriding or replacing the ethical guidance specific to the
Indigenous community one works with (TCPS2 2014). Although I do believe the TCPS2 is quite competent in its argument that research ethics are inseparable from the social and cultural context of the participants involved in a research project, there are still many barriers to actually applying a community-specific code of ethics for a thesis project. Some of these challenges are, again, time constraints and lack of funding. If the specific group does not already have a code of ethics for research in their community, it would be quite difficult to ask the Elders and
Knowledge Keepers to draft that on top of all the other demands of community-engaged work.
Perhaps that could be an entirely different project altogether. Although I have pointed out some of the challenges of community-based participatory research within academia, I do acknowledge that the university is working at addressing some of these concerns but there are some barriers making the process quite slow.
4.4 Concluding remarks
When you are told that you are Indigenous, that this is your land, that you have a spiritual connection to this place and that your honour, health, and existence depend on your relationships with that river, those animals, those plants, when you are told that this is the right and good way to live and you are held to account for that culturally and s iritually, and you’r not abl or allo d to liv out any of that... What happens to a person, a spirit, a mind? (Taiaiake Alfred 2017:12).
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The results of this community-based participatory research highlight a place-based notion of wellbeing maintained via Splatsin peoples land-based and cultural activities to advance the discussion on llb ing’s inti at onn tion to land and land-based consciousness. Moreover, this work offers insights into worldviews and life-ways that provide frameworks for thinking about alternatives to a capitalist economy predicated on the perpetual exploitation of nature. One of the goals of this project was to center the voices and experiences of Splatsin peoples within wellbeing research as a response to the marginalization of Indigenous ways of knowing in discussions of what dictates health and wellbeing practices (Wilson 2003; Panelli and Tipa 2007;
Sarmiento-Barletti 2016). I hav not sought to ak a as for a ‘right’ a roa h to llb ing, but to highlight that there are multiple ways of knowing about wellbeing. This was done as a way to de-normalize mainstream conceptualizations of wellbeing which are heavily influenced by the
Western or ‘Euro-American’ lived experience (Wilson 2003; Panelli and Tipa 2007; Sarmiento-
Barletti 2016).
Drawing on the knowledges of Splatsin Elders and Knowledge Keepers, I demonstrate that tmicw or “land” represents much more than a physical space in which Splatsin peoples carry out their daily lives. Splatsin peoples have spiritual, physical and symbolic relationships to their territories. They connect spiritually with the land through ceremony and offerings of tobacco due to their belief that nature is alive and has spirit. Physically, Splatsin individuals connect to the land through activities like hunting, fishing, and berry picking. Symbolically, the land represents the connection that Splatsin peoples have with Mother Earth as a life-giving and female entity.
The fulfillment of all these aspects of the relationship between Splatsin peoples and their territories is necessary for “living a good lif ” or la7 sumac. Splatsin accounts of environmental dispossession in this work also serve as a reminder that colonial processes of dispossession are 107 very much still ongoing and continue to have damaging impacts on the wellbeing and cultural resilience of this community. The crisis of identity and trauma that results from environmental degradation, land-theft, private property, residential schools, the Sixties Scoop and the child welfare system is captured in the above quote by Indigenous scholar Taiaiake Alfred and is powerfully echoed in the voices of Splatsin participants. And yet, Splatsin peoples continue to resist dispossession and challenge the colonial systems that perpetuate violence of their lands and of their people. Through various conversations with Elders and Knowledge Keepers about resiliency in the face of dispossession, they taught me what decolonization and land-based cultural resurgence means for Splatsin. It means:
1) Honoring and r s ting th t rritori s on alks on, or “ alking softly on arth.”
2) Reimagining the land before it was molded and deformed by humans, and falling in love
all over again with the water, the air, the medicines, the animals and the spirits.
3) Unearthing erased histories and reclaiming Splatsin identity through ceremony, dance,
song, language and prayer.
4) Healing through reattaching mind, body and spirit to land, culture, and community.
5) R onn ting ith “ r ation” through off rings of toba o, asking for r ission b for
taking, giving thanks after receiving and never taking more than one needs.
6) “D olonizing th ind” by unl arning th t a hings of s ttl r institutions.
7) R a ak ning on s’ s nsibiliti s to th t a hings of th land.
8) Recognizing and valuing the knowledges of Splatsin Elders and applying these teachings
to present day struggles.
9) Getting stolen lands back. 108
Their words are a reminder that in order to truly move towards reconciliation settlers must unlearn colonial behaviors and work in solidarity with Indigenous communities to restore the cultural practices and relationships that promote wellness for Indigenous peoples. Splatsin efforts to reconnect with their lands and land-based practices took many forms including reconnecting youth with the land by picking skwenkwínem (“Indian potatoes”) during the annual
Sunflower picnic; learning Secwépemctsín through the language revitalization program at the daycare; learning about the medicines on Splatsin territory through local medicinal plant workshops; and starting a community garden and seed sharing program. Splatsin practices of land-based resilience can serve as a helpful model for other communities who are also working towards cultural resurgence.
I would like to offer a final kukwstsésemc (thank you) to all of the amazing Splatsin Elders and community Knowledge Keepers who offered me their guidance and wisdom throughout this work. I am constantly amazed by your incredible strength, resilience, warmth and love even when faced with adversity. I will do my best to honor your teachings for the rest of my life.
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Appendix A: Interview Questions Wellbeing:
1) What is ‘ llb ing’ as conceived by Splatsin people and is there a Secwépemctsín word
for ‘ llb ing?
2) What fa tors do you think ontribut to your ‘ llb ing’?
3) Can you think of any challenges that your community is currently facing that could
possibly affect ‘ llb ing’?
4) How do you think these challenges can be addressed?
Relationship to the Land
5) What is your on tion of ‘land’ or b ing on th land?
6) What do you do when you are on the land?
7) How do you feel when being on the land?
Connections between land and wellbeing
8) What ar so a tiviti s that you ould onsid r ‘traditional’ to latsin o l ?
9) Are there any particular activities that are important to your community that necessarily
require access to the land? (I.e. hunting, fishing, berry picking)
10) Can you think of any ways that wellbeing might be connected to particular land-based
activities?
Changes to the Land:
11) Can you think of any noticeable changes in the environment that have happened in your
lifetime?
12) Are there any particular issues that are restricting access to places of cultural importance
for your community? 118
13) How has the dispossession of land affected your ability to practice traditional land-based
activities?
14) What are the impacts of a lack of access to the land on community wellbeing?
Resilience
15) What is the Secwépemc on tion of ‘r sili n ’? (Pro pt: what are some factors that
ensure the cultural survival of your community?)
16) Is being on the land something that you consider essential to the resilience of your
community and of future generations? If so, why do you think it is?
17) How are the Splatsin resisting the impacts of land dispossession through their ties to
land? (Prompt: are there any programs or activities that are being implemented to get
people back on the land or to reconnect with the land? (i.e. community gardens)).
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Appendix B: Detail on the Knowledge Gathering Process As I briefly mentioned in the concluding remarks of this project, there are some challenges r garding th n d to in lud a d tail d “data” oll tion and analysis ortion of th ork in order to adhere to the demands of academia. I argue that this is one of the many ironies of attempting to do a decolonized form of community engagement within the academy. In the following paragraphs, I reflect on how I came to know what I know about Splatsin worldviews and how I interpreted the experiences that I was fortunate enough to witness, participate in and listen to while in Splatsin.
Splatsin Elders, community Knowledge Keepers, as well as the land, water, air, plants, medicines, animals, and spirits of have been my teachers since the start of this work; it is their knowledge that is at the core of this thesis. Without their patience and guidance I would not have an understating of the geographical, historical, social, cultural and spiritual contexts that have shaped the ways Splatsin peoples come to know about the world. Through participant observation of various cultural and spiritual practices I began to understand that the land is a teacher. Land informs all Splatsin relations; it shapes relationships to culture, community, spirituality, knowledge and ways of life, and is central to physical, spiritual, mental and emotional wellbeing. A deep attachment to the land involves being aware of the various responsibilities or obligations one has to other people as well as to all other non-human relations that comprise the land itself.
Being vegan while living in a community that relies on hunting and fishing for cultural, nutritional and spiritual purposes taught me a lot about the difference between consuming meat that one hunts versus consuming industrially farmed meat. While collecting cedar for a sweat lodge ceremony, my friend and partner in this work, Randy, shared with me that for Splatsin folks, animals are considered relatives. They have the agency to give themselves to you. If you 120 disrespect your relatives by not upholding your responsibility to protect them or by acting in ways that are greedy, they will not allow you to kill them. I then asked Randy if there was a difference—beyond nutritional benefits—between consuming hunted meat and consuming meat from the store that has been factory farmed. What I learned in that moment is that foods from the land are not only nutritional/medicinal, they are also deeply spiritual. Randy expressed that when a human gives an offering to an animal for giving its life so that others could survive, and when the animal chooses to give itself to a human after having lived a life free from imprisonment in a factory, it is a consenting, respectful and ceremonial exchange. When one consumes meat that has been properly respected, the good energy that lives within the animal will go into the human bodies that consume it. Whereas if an animal lives a life of imprisonment, pain and suffering, the trauma and fear of that experience lives within its body. When one consumes store-bought meats, that fearful and anxious energy will manifest into cancers within human bodies. It makes you ill, not only because the animal might have been genetically modified, or might be filled with antibiotics and growth hormones, but because there was no consent, respect or ethics upheld in its death. When I was given the opportunity to go fishing off the Enderby bridge on the reserve, I caught a salmon. I was able to experience for the first time what it was like for an animal to give its life to me. I was able to thank that animal for allowing other humans to survive. And, I thanked the water for giving life to that animal that, in turn, sustains human life. It is a cycle and everything is connected. It is what Splatsin folks refer to as giving thanks to “all of th relations.” On thing annot surviv ithout th oth r. We are all interrelated.
By observing and taking part in the collection of medicines with Elders Shirley and Julianna
I learned about the intimate communication between plants and humans that is part of ethical harvesting practices for Splatsin folks. Giving offerings of tobacco as well as praying in 121
Secwépemctsín before picking medicines is a way that Splatsin people uphold their responsibility to their plant relatives and in return, plants provide sources of food and medicine for humans. On again, I as taught to thank “all of y r lations,” including the Creator, water, air, and earth, for giving life to that plant that will be used as medicine to heal humans. I was taught that tobacco was a sacred form of communicating with the spirits of the land. Shirley shared with me that the reason why a lot of the medicines were filled with a disease she called
“ or s” as b aus hu ans r b ing disr s tful to the plants. They were not talking to the plants and asking permission. Instead, they were cutting down, destroying and taking without consent, without ceremony. The medicines were angry and they were communicating that anger to humans through their disease and decay. As Julianna mentioned, the minds of humans have been colonized and so they are not able to practice cultural protocols of respect. As I mentioned, the land is a teacher. One of the lessons I learned that day from the disease-filled plants is that the land is trying to tell humans that something is deeply wrong in the way that most people are currently interacting with the environment.
When I was later invited by my friend to make my own hand-drum out of deer hide, she gave me a hide to use that had been skinned from a deer that had given its life to a hunter. The hide was stretched on a wooden frame, cleaned of its remaining flesh, preserved with salt and tanned
ith th d r’s brain. The lengthy and difficult process of tanning hides has traditionally been the role of Splatsin women. While I was soaking the deer hide in water, I thought of the teachings I had received about thanking “all of y r lations” from my Splatsin mentors and I reflected on what that really meant. I thought of the deer that gave its life so that I could use its hide to make this drum. I thought of the plants, air, earth and water that have given life and sustenance to this deer. I thought of the women that did the work of preparing the hide of the deer that gave its life 122 so that I could use its hide to make this drum. I thought of the Indigenous ancestors that have done the work of preserving the land so that life can still thrive on it today. And so, every time I beat that hand-dru I think of th arth’s h artb at. I think of ho b ating this dru r r s nts all of the lives that contributed to th dru ’s xist n , and I think of ho fortunat I a hold it.
These are only three experiences among many that shaped my understanding of Splatsin relationships to their traditional territories, including how they perceive their relationship to all of the beings that are sustained by Mother Earth. In that sense, the participant observation component allowed me to begin to understand the context that has shaped the ways Splatsin folks form knowledge about the world.
Something interesting that I observed during my time in Splatsin and that I briefly mention in my thesis is that the impacts of environmental dispossession are deeply gendered. Since land- based and cultural practices and traditionally gendered, men, women and non-binary folks will all experience the impacts of things like environmental degradation in different ways. Although this is not at all a major component of this project, I think it is relevant and important and requires further attention in future work. I also noticed that most of the people that seemed to be doing the work of reclaiming Splatsin knowledge including their language, their land-based practices and their spiritualties, were women. From different conversations I had with Splatsin folks, it seems that Splatsin women have traditionally been considered the keepers of knowledge.
They have the role of passing on that knowledge to future generations, which might explain why they are leading the struggle for cultural reclamation. The gendering of different components that are part of the environment also shapes the roles that men and women will have in the stewardship of the land. For example, water and earth are considered female entities because they are life giving, hence the notion of th nviron nt as “Moth r Earth.” I also learned that 123 women are considered to be water protectors because they carry water in their wombs and so are deeply connected to water. Wh r as, fir is onsid r d “grandfath r fir ” and so, traditionally men are the keepers of the sacred fire. I think it would be interesting to further explore how gender shapes relationships to place/environment at another point in time.
Determining the major themes within all the knowledge gathered for this work was a collective effort between myself and my Splatsin partners. First, I read and re-read the interview material that I transcribed verbatim as well as the notes I took from the field-trip and participant observation portions. I took initial notes while transcribing the interviews, noting commonalities between interviews and interesting overlaps with my field-notes. I created four sections to separate my notes to address the objectives of this work: the first section was used to record instances where Splatsin folks spoke of their relationship to their traditional territories, in the second section I recorded instances where Splatsin folks explained the challenges of being on the land, in the third section I noted Splatsin definitions of wellbeing, and in the fourth section I grouped together instances where Splatsin folks spoke of resistance to dispossession through land-based resiliency. Once I finished the transcriptions, I read the transcribed material a few more times. This was helpful for substantiating and disqualifying information I had included into each section, as well as for determining whether the initial four sections were valid. The reading and re-reading approach was helpful for identifying broad trends within the interview material and within my field notes. The initial themes I recorded were: ‘Splatsin relationships to place’,
‘Splatsin experiences of environmental dispossession’, ‘Splatsin perceptions of wellbeing’ and
‘Splatsin land-based resiliency’. After meeting up with my Splatsin partners and going over the themes, we included one more grou hi h as ‘ onnections between dispossession and
Splatsin wellbeing’, and hang d th grou ‘ latsin r lationshi s to la ’ to ‘R lationshi s 124 b t n ultur , land and llb ing’. The information of this project is guided by those overarching themes.
Through ongoing discussions with Splatsin partners, we created sub-themes by going over the information within each major theme and separating it into smaller groups. For instance, the
ain grou ‘ latsin r tions of llb ing’ as divid d into four sub-categories/sub-themes which were: learning balance through the medicine wheel, spiritual wellbeing, emotional wellbeing, mental wellbeing and physical wellbeing. This allowed for a better understanding of the connection between the teachings of holism guided by the medicine wheel that were stressed in all of the interviews. Th th ‘ latsin x ri n s of nviron ntal dis oss ssion’ as divided into two sub-th s: ‘indir t for s of dis oss ssion’ and ‘dir t for s of dis oss ssion’. This h l d to s arat x ri n s of dis oss ssion du to nviron ntal degradation from experiences of dispossession related to colonial practices assimilation and a ulturation. Th ain th ‘R lationshi s b t n ultur , land and llb ing’ as divid d into three sub-th s hi h r : ‘land-bas d a tiviti s and ultural id ntity’, ‘Splatsin land- bas d kno l dg ’ and ‘land-bas d h aling’. Th s sub-themes represented the major connections that Splatsin folks identified between culture, land and wellbeing. As this research is very context specific and focuses on a very small group of people, it can only represent the way that some Splatsin folks think about wellbeing, dispossession and land-based resiliency. To make sure that the themes adhered to the experiences of community Elders and Knowledge Keepers there was constant communication, revisions, and constant learning on my part, to make sure that the voices and experiences of my partners were being accurately represented. The use of triangulation, or use of multiple qualitative methods (semi-structured interviews, field-trips and 125 participant observation) also allowed me to have various forms of comparing and confirming the knowledge gathered.