The unmistakable rainbow sheen of diesel on the water still haunts the Heiltsuk community. It’s been over four years since an articulated tugboat called the Nathan E. Stewart ran aground near Bella Bella, B.C., spilling 110,000 litres of diesel, lubricants and other pollutants into the sea.  

After the tugboat hit the rocks near Gale Creek in the Seaforth Channel, an important site for seafood harvesting, it took the Canadian Coast Guard three hours to notify the Heiltsuk, who were given no instruction on what to do. Community members jumped in their boats and rushed to the site.

“It was really intense and quite heartbreaking,” Yáláƛí Megan Humchitt, a councillor with the Heiltsuk Tribal Council, said in an interview. 

Humchitt, who grew up in Bella Bella and spent much of her childhood on the water with her dad, a Hereditary Chief and fisherman, was one of the first responders to the scene, where community members waited 17 hours for a Transport Canada-certified spill response team deployed from Prince Rupert to arrive.

Ever since the disaster, the nation has been working toward establishing the Indigenous Marine Response Centre in Heiltsuk territory, which would enable them to respond quickly and efficiently to emergencies. 

On Tuesday, the Heiltsuk Nation, the Canadian Coast Guard and Transport Canada announced a memorandum of understanding that paves the way to create a Heiltsuk marine emergency response team and plan for how that team will complement the long-term plans for the response centre. 

“We’re mariners, we live on the coast. Our community has always responded to vessels in distress,” Heiltsuk Chief Councillor K̓áwáziɫ Marilyn Slett said in an interview. “This MOU allows us to chart the next steps to expand response when it comes to oceans protection in Heiltsuk territory.”

Heiltsuk Chief Councillor K̓áwáziɫ Marilyn Slett says a memorandum of understanding signed by the First Nation, the Canadian Coast Guard and Transport Canada helps the Heiltsuk take the necessary steps to protect their territory. Photo: Louise Whitehouse / The Narwhal

Humchitt said the agreement cements the relationship between the Heiltsuk Nation and the federal agencies.

“It feels a little surreal to be honest,” she said. “It’s taken a lot of work to get here.” 

Roger Girouard, assistant commissioner for the Canadian Coast Guard, said the agreement charts a course for long-term, lasting relationships.

“I want it to be an example, to those that work for me and those youngsters in their community, that the leadership believes in each other,” he said. “We’ve arrived at a place where, yes, trust was in short supply once and has its tenuous moments still, but we have decided to take this step for the future.”

Heiltsuk-led response centre ‘something that needs to be celebrated’

Among the priorities listed in the document is developing a plan to improve communications between the federal agencies and the Heiltsuk Nation, and to figure out how everyone will work together if there is another incident.  

The agreement also outlines priorities for training the emergency response team, including providing members with the opportunity to participate in coast guard-led training exercises. The emergency response team will be Heiltsuk-based and staffed by members of the community. Humchitt said the coast guard has already taken action by committing to funding and training 12 people. The federal agencies also committed to seeking funding to purchase equipment for the response team.

It will take time to develop and complete the training and figure out how the team will complement existing spill response operations and how it fits into the nation’s vision for a Heiltsuk-based response centre. There isn’t a specific timeline in place, but Humchitt said the nation will be posting the opportunities soon and initial training will take place over the coming year. 

“Exploring the next steps to ensure protection of the marine management in Heiltsuk territory is exactly what this does — and that’s something that needs to be celebrated,” Humchitt said. 

A man cleans up diesel from the Nathan E. Stewart spill near Gale Creek, not far from Bella Bella, B.C., on Oct. 29, 2016. Photo: Tavish Campbell / Heiltsuk Tribal Council

Girouard said the agreement is a helpful reminder of what the shared goals are. 

“It gives us both a to-do list. I think it’s smart in terms of focusing on what the key priorities are.”

He added the process is challenging, in part because this kind of collaboration has never been done before.

“It’s going to be a bit of a crunchy conversation at times, but nothing new of value ever got built easily.”

In the meantime, plans for the Indigenous Marine Response Centre will move forward. The nation partnered with Horizon Maritime, a Canadian company that specializes in marine operations, to form Heiltsuk Horizon, which is currently looking into possible locations to build the response centre. 

The centre will be operated by 37 full-time local employees with intimate knowledge of the region, the tides and the weather conditions. It will be equipped with vessels and equipment designed to contain spills in the area, which is subject to extreme weather conditions and complex tidal systems. The centre’s location on the central coast will mean crews could respond to any emergencies in the territory within five hours or less. The Heiltsuk proposal estimates annual operating costs at $6.8 million. 

Spill response training complements other Heiltsuk initiatives to protect their territory     

Slett said the Heiltsuk are taking advantage of every opportunity available to increase capacity and develop knowledge.

Last year, for example, the Heiltsuk joined four other First Nations in forming Canada’s first Indigenous coast guard auxiliary. This provided the community with training and equipment to respond to marine emergencies. While the auxiliary is focused on search and rescue activities, its close collaboration with the coast guard helps Heiltsuk mariners understand how the federal agency operates. Funding for the auxiliary also equipped community boats with sophisticated communication and navigation equipment, which could be used in future emergency situations.  

Members of the Canada’s first Indigenous coast guard auxiliary participate in a training exercise in Bamfield, B.C. Photo: Andrew Szeto / Coastal Nations Coast Guard Auxiliary

The community has also been developing maps that identify culturally sensitive areas, including important seafood resources such as clam beds. This information can be used to inform how responders, whether Heiltsuk or non-Indigenous, deal with potential spills. 

Humchitt said while the Heiltsuk Nation is still in a vulnerable position, if a ship got hung up on the rocks tomorrow, events would unfold differently. She explained that planning the Indigenous Marine Response Centre and communicating with the federal agencies has helped community members develop a deeper understanding of emergency response procedures.

“We know what an incident command post looks like, we are well versed in spill response techniques. Even just the jargon and speaking the language of spill response is something that we are now also versed in.”

On Oct. 13, 2016, the Nathan E. Stewart tugboat ran aground near Bella Bella, B.C., spilling more than 110,000 litres of diesel and other pollutants into the heart of Heiltsuk territory. Photo: April Bencze / Heiltsuk Tribal Council

Heiltsuk knowledge and experience could support other coastal communities  

Slett said the Heiltsuk community has always fought to protect the land and waters, citing the nation’s support for the oil tanker moratorium and its testimonies at the National Energy Board hearing on the proposed Enbridge Northern Gateway Pipeline. 

“Our way of life and how we live is connected to our land and our waters,” Slett said. “It underscores everything that we do in terms of protecting the marine ecosystem.”

Heiltsuk men prepare salmon on their territory. The nation’s way of life is intimately connected to its waters, which it has worked hard to protect. Photo: Louise Whitehouse / The Narwhal

Hereditary Chief Harvey Humchitt told The Narwhal the sinking of the tugboat changed the way the community thought about its role in protecting B.C.’s waters.

“Heiltsuk have always relied on the ocean,” he said. “What we’ve experienced from Nathan E. Stewart, we would never want to see that happen to anyone on the coast.”

He said the Heiltsuk want to apply their knowledge to protect the waters for everyone, not just the community.  

His daughter agreed and said that all this work can serve as an example to other First Nations along the coast.

“Hopefully, one day, we’ll have our [Indigenous Marine Response Centre] built and it will be fully operational not only as a centre of excellence for spill response and emergency response and training for Heiltsuk, but also for our Indigenous relatives to the south and to the north,” she said.

The memorandum of understanding notes that the Heiltsuk-based team is a “pilot for what community-based oil spill response could look like in the central coast.” Slett and Humchitt said the nation is open to sharing knowledge with other Indigenous communities.

“As Indigenous people who are always here and always on the water, we are always going to be the first responders,” Humchitt said. “We need to have that technology, that knowledge, that equipment situated in our own territories, and people to be able to know what to do when there’s another incident. And the likelihood of another incident just increases as tanker traffic increases.”

“We just have to be prepared.”

Read more: Heiltsuk rising: inside the cultural resurgence of one B.C. First Nation

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The Haíɫzaqv (Heiltsuk) Nation’s cancellation of its financially and culturally important spawn-on-kelp fishery due to COVID-19 is in the international spotlight, with a letter by Canadian scientists and Haíɫzaqv resource managers appearing in the journal Science on Thursday. 

The letter states that the Haíɫzaqv approach presents a “stark contrast” to government and industry decisions to deem extractive industries as essential services. 

COVID-19 concerns have been raised at mines, hydro dams and oilsands camps, with B.C.’s Interior Health Authority linking 19 cases of COVID-19 to an outbreak at the Kearl Lake oilsands project.

“The Haíɫzaqv fishery closure demonstrates the effectiveness of informed, responsible decision-making by community members themselves,” the letter states. 

“It also demonstrates an alternative to centralized management approaches. State-led fisheries have faced criticism for making decisions that are isolated from the nuances of individual communities, for viewing resources through a narrow lens of stock productivity and extraction and for paying too little attention to complex social outcomes.”

In April, Fisheries and Oceans Canada allowed fishing to continue but pulled at-sea observers from trawlers, reverting to electronic methods like video to monitor the industry. (Observers are now permitted, but not required, on vessels if safe working procedures are in place.)

The Haíɫzaqv Nation consulted with the 692 members who had signed up for the fishery in March before the hereditary and elected leadership decided to close it. The short fishery, which only lasts five to six days in March or April, is carried out by hanging lines of kelp upon which herring lay their eggs. The eggs — or roe — are harvested and the herring are unharmed.

“We’re going to protect ourselves, and we’re going to do that at any cost,” said Kelly Brown, director of the Haíɫzaqv Integrated Resource Management Department and one of the authors of the letter. 

The Haíɫzaqv suffered a major economic and cultural blow by closing the fishery, but Brown said they are hoping to “lead by example” in their cautious response to COVID-19.

Kelly Brown, director of the Haíɫzaqv Integrated Resource Management Department, says the security of Haíɫzaqv people is more important than money. Photo: Louise Whitehouse / The Narwhal

The letter notes the remote community’s limited medical capacity and the risk posed to Elders, “who comprise most of the remaining fluent speakers of Haíɫzaqvḷa.”

The Haíɫzaqv won the right to have the spawn-on-kelp fishery after a hard-fought battle in the Supreme Court of Canada that proved they had practised a commercial fishery before the arrival of Europeans.  

In 2015, Haíɫzaqv citizens occupied a Fisheries and Oceans Canada office and successfully drove out a commercial herring gillnet fishery opening in Haíɫzaqv territory to protect herring from overkill. Protecting the fishery has been an act of protecting their sovereignty.

The fishery has also been a major source of revenue, exporting the roe to Japan. Brown said a member can make between $5,000 and $12,000 depending on the quality of the roe. But he said all the members agreed safety was more important.

“It’s never about the money,” he said. “Obviously we want security, but our people matter and we’re not going to leave them at risk for the sake of a dollar.” 

Keeping fishery closed also keeps visitors at bay

Brown said visitors, including those from the United States, have been trying to access Bella Bella via yachts and sailboats. The community will provide fuel and groceries by boat but won’t let anyone dock.

“We’re getting nervous,” Brown said.

More than 100 new COVID-19 cases in 72 hours were reported in B.C. on Monday, leading provincial health officer Dr. Bonnie Henry to warn people to exercise caution.

“We do have a possibility of having explosive growth in our outbreak here in B.C. if we’re not careful in how we progress over the summer,” Henry said on Monday.

Meanwhile, lodges on Haida Gwaii have reopened and the community reported its first COVID-19 case on July 18, despite the Haida Nation’s efforts to restrict visitors. The Haida Hereditary Chiefs’ Council has now said the Queen Charlotte Lodge “has lost its welcome” on Haida Gwaii. 

The sea remains a ‘safe place’ during tough times

Despite the cancelled fishery, Brown said people are spending a lot of time on the water harvesting for sustenance. 

Haíɫzaqv Councillor Louisa Jones-Housty grew up on the water and has been running her own boat with a crew of family members for the past four years. She said she’s still been out in her boat despite the chaos of the pandemic.

“It’s my safe place,” she said. “It’s where I want to be.”

Heiltsuk rising: inside the cultural resurgence of one B.C. First Nation

While the community has gotten by without a COVID-19 case, it has still been hit hard with two local businesses shutting down and 24 deaths in two and a half months unrelated to COVID-19. About 1,400 people live in Bella Bella.

“The big thing is mental wellness. This has impacted so many people in so many different ways,” she said. 

The number of deaths is overwhelming for the community and really brought home how devastating a COVID-19 outbreak could be when the small morgue was overwhelmed after four deaths in 24 hours.

“A lot of community members weren’t able to come back to say final goodbyes,” she said. “It’s so sad.”

But Jones-Housty said community members are sharing the load, fishing for those that don’t have boats and making sure “everyone’s freezers are full.”

She said she is looking forward to the day everyone can gather in their Big House, which was built last year and is the first one on the territory in 120 years. 

“Our culture is the basis of our life, our identity. We need to be there and gather our strength, and get strength from each other.”

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The water is like glass and the salmon are jumping on a Wednesday morning in September as I head out on a boat with the Heiltsuk Coastal Guardian Watchmen.

We’re on the water no longer than five minutes when we stop at a shallow and guardian Walter Campbell pulls out a fishing rod.

“My dad showed me this spot,” he said. “I grew up on the water.”

The mission is to catch 10 rock fish to use for bait in crab traps. It takes no longer than 15 minutes for Campbell to reel them in.

The bait will help attract invasive European green crabs into traps set by the guardians in an attempt to stem the tide of the voracious creatures.

The Narwhal’s editor-in-chief Emma Gilchrist watches Walter Campbell, a member of the Heiltsuk Coastal Guardian Watchmen, fish in Heiltsuk territory while filmmaker Jayce Hawkins of Approach Media looks on. Photo: Louise Whitehouse / The Narwhal

Six guardians are employed full-time in Heiltsuk territory, on B.C.’s central coast, and patrol the territory five days a week on three different boats. They track ship traffic and wildlife, keep an eye out for poachers and uphold Indigenous laws.

Before becoming a guardian, Campbell was a commercial clam digger in Gale Passage. But on Oct. 13, 2016, that changed. A watchperson on an American-owned tugboat, the Nathan E. Stewart, fell asleep and the boat ran aground at 1 a.m. at the mouth of Gale Creek in Seaforth Channel.

It took 17 hours for oil spill responders to arrive on site from Prince Rupert. In the meantime, 110,000 litres of diesel, lubricants and other pollutants were spilled into the water.

The Texas-based Kirby Offshore Marine Corp. — the owner of the tug — was eventually fined $3 million for the spill. A civil case for damages filed by the Heiltsuk Nation is ongoing.

‘We were helpless’

Three years later, when I ask members of the Heiltsuk Nation about that day, I can’t help but notice the way their expressions change, like they’re recalling a painful nightmare.

“The whole water was just pink with diesel,” guardian Jordan Wilson remembers.

“We were helpless, defenseless, to stop it from spreading.”

Wilson takes notes as part of his duties as a member of the Heiltsuk Coastal Guardian Watchmen. Photo: Louise Whitehouse / The Narwhal

Jordan Wilson, one of six Heiltsuk Coastal Guardian Watchmen, says the water turned pink the day the Nathan E. Stewart sunk. Photo: Louise Whitehouse / The Narwhal

When oil spill responders finally did arrive, they tried to surround the spill with an oil containment boom, but winds and waves forced it open in parts, according to a Heiltsuk report on the 48 hours after the spill.

Kelly Brown, the director of the Heiltsuk Integrated Resource Management Department, was the first member of the Heiltsuk to be notified of the spill. The call came at 4:30 a.m., more than three hours after the tug had first hit the rocks.

“Ninety per cent of all our food and all the resources we depend on are in that area,” Brown said.

The Heiltsuk rallied to do what they could, as they waited hours for a team to arrive with supplies, only to have them deploy defective equipment in unfamiliar conditions.

In the midst of the catastrophe, the seed was planted to create a new way of dealing with oil spills on the north central coast.

“As our community’s economy, environment, and way of life hung in the balance, we promised ourselves this would never happen in our territory again,” said elected chief councilor Marilyn Slett about a year after the spill, on the day the Heiltsuk announced a plan to establish an Indigenous Marine Response Centre.

Heilstuk Tribal Council’s elected chief councillor Marilyn Slett says Heiltsuk have more people working in their territories than Parks Canada or the Department of Fisheries and Oceans. Photo: Louise Whitehouse / The Narwhal

Heiltsuk-based response centre could reach spills more quickly

The 196-page report, Creating a World-Leading Response Plan, describes the likelihood of marine incidents on the central north coast, evaluates best spill response practices around the world and says an Indigenous Marine Response Centre located on Denny Island — adjacent to the existing Canadian Coast Guard base — could respond to all incidents in the study area within five hours and to 80 per cent of incidents in three hours.

“We have a very well-established guardian watchmen program and we’re really proud of it and they are the eyes and ears on the water,” Slett said. “They’ve responded to distress calls, responded to the Nathan E. Stewart, responded to emergencies, so for us it was a natural step in terms of looking at marine response.”

The proposed Indigenous Marine Response Center would employ 37 full-time staff and crew. The annual operating cost is estimated to be $6.8 million, with an estimated $11.5 million needed for start-up costs.

“We have more people working in our traditional territories than Parks Canada, than DFO,” Slett said. “We have Heiltsuk here who are trained, who are out there monitoring.”

The view from a Coastal Guardian Watchmen vessel in Heiltsuk territory. Photo: Louise Whitehouse / The Narwhal

The Heiltsuk Coastal Guardian Watchmen pull ashore. Photo: Louise Whitehouse / The Narwhal

Brown said before the spill First Nations had not been fully engaged in oil spill response plans.

“We believe that as Haíɫzaqv (Heiltsuk) people with all the local knowledge for the area, that we’re the right place to put an Indigenous Marine Response Centre that would be managed by ourselves,” he said.

As the Heiltsuk await federal funding for the program to move ahead, part of the problem is the colonial mindset that kept the Heiltsuk out of the loop during the initial stages of the spill response in the first place.

“There’s still no recognition of the Heiltsuk government,” Brown said. “We have to be recognized as a government here. We’re the ones left having to manage whatever the disaster left.”

A spokesperson for Transport Canada told The Narwhal that collaboration with Indigenous peoples is vital to protecting Canada’s coasts and waterways and said “the government of Canada wants Indigenous peoples to play an active role in marine safety.”

“As part of Canada’s $1.5 billion Oceans Protection Plan, we are working with Indigenous peoples to assess marine safety risks in their communities. We are learning where we need more capacity to prevent and respond to marine emergencies. Multiple First Nations, including the Heiltsuk Nation, have proposed establishing Indigenous marine response centres as part of this process,” the statement read.

“Our discussions with the Heiltsuk Nation are ongoing.”

Kelly Brown is the director of the Heiltsuk Integrated Resource Management Department. Photo: Louise Whitehouse / The Narwhal

50 families impacted by loss of clam beds

To mention nothing of the bungled cleanup, dozens of people like Campbell immediately lost their jobs in the clam beds, where 50,000 pounds of manila clams were harvested the year before the spill.

“The spill itself devastated our community,” Slett said. “We haven’t been able to harvest clams commercially since. And that has affected up to 50 families in our community.”

Out of work, Campbell started getting his first aid certifications and then enrolled in a two-year stewardship technician training program, which prepared him for a job with the Coastal Guardian Watchmen.

Walter Campbell is one of six Coastal Guardian Watchmen in Heiltsuk Territory. Photo: Louise Whitehouse / The Narwhal

Before the Nathan E. Stewart contaminated Gale Passage with diesel fuel, Campbell was a commercial clam digger in the area impacted by the spill. Photo: Louise Whitehouse / The Narwhal

As Campbell pilots the boat, I notice a red sticker by the steering wheel that says “Report More Pollution” alongside a 1-800 number for the Canadian Coast Guard.

If the Heiltsuk succeed with their proposal, help may actually be on hand next time someone reports a spill along this coastline.

“If we had that in the first place, maybe we’d have been able to protect more of this,” Campbell said.

Updated on Nov. 26, 2019, at 5:08 p.m. PST to include comment from Transport Canada.

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Bella Bella, B.C. — One of the first things I noticed as I stepped into the Bella Bella airport’s one-room waiting area was a notice board covered in job postings for the Big House opening in October.

It was all hands on deck as the Heiltsuk Nation prepared to open its first new Big House in 120 years. Everyone I met during my four days in Heiltsuk territory was brimming with excitement for the grand opening — from passengers on the seabus to students helping with painting to the Coastal Guardian Watchmen.

To understand the significance of this moment, one has to understand a bit of the history of this place.

At one time the Heiltsuk had more than 50 village sites on the central coast of what is now known as British Columbia. Colonization — and the accompanying smallpox and influenza — reduced the Heiltsuk from a population of more than 10,000 to just 200 people, consolidated in one village. Their big houses were burnt to the ground.

For decades, the customs of the Heiltsuk were driven underground. Now, with the opening of the Big House earlier this month, those practices will be honoured in a sacred place once more.

“It’s going to fill a void that we didn’t know was there,” said elected chief councillor Marilyn Slett. “We’re so strong right now as a people, but I know when that Big House is built, watch out.”

A bald eagle in Bella Bella, B.C. Photo: Louise Whitehouse / The Narwhal

Heiltsuk elected chief councillor Marilyn Slett. Photo: Louise Whitehouse / The Narwhal

The Big House is just the tip of the iceberg in terms of the cultural resurgence happening in Heiltsuk territory.

The cultural programs are almost too many to count. Students learn to smoke fish during “Salmon Day” at the local school and youth attend cultural rediscovery and science programs during the summer at Koeye Camp.

Those “campers” are returning to the community in large numbers to take up leadership positions. Jess Housty, acting executive director of Qqs Projects Society, is one of them.

“This past summer when we were at our youth camp, we had second-generation campers in critical mass numbers for the first time,” Housty said. “We know that people who were campers in my day … are now sending their children out there.”

The new boardwalk at the Kunsoot Wellness Project, which is being build to be accessible to elders and people of all levels of mobility. Photo: Louise Whitehouse / The Narwhal

A building crew takes a break at an old cultural cabin at the site of the new Kunsoot Wellness Project. Photo: Louise Whitehouse / The Narwhal

The opening of the Big House provides a moment to reflect on all of the progress that’s been made in the last generation.

“I’m in my early 30s and I’m in the first generation in my family where no one was apprehended to residential school and no one lived under the potlatch ban and our culture being illegal,” Housty said. “Sometimes we talk about that like it’s ancient history, but it’s actually such a close thing that still has resounding impacts on the way we live our lives now.”

Housty and her father, Larry Jorgensen, took us on a tour of the Kunsoot Wellness Project, a land-based healing centre that will be home to family camps, retreats and school field trips starting in spring 2020.

Larry Jorgensen at the site of the new Kunsoot Wellness Project. Photo: Louise Whitehouse / The Narwhal

“To pause and look around at everything that’s happening in our territory right now and in our community, to know that they tried to strip us of our culture and know we’re opening a huge, beautiful Big House that is a sacred space to practice the customs that our ancestors kept alive through all of that,” Housty said.

“To know that they tried to remove us from our land and our traditional resources and yet we have things on the horizon like Kunsoot that are opportunities for us to re-occupy the spaces where our ancestors lived, to know that my generation and the generations that are coming after me can live their best lives as Heiltsuk people unfettered by the laws that regulated us off of our territory and away from our culture, I think is just incredible.”

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On the surface, the water looks like glass, reflecting the fluffy clouds that roll above the cedar inlets of Bella Bella, on B.C.’s Central Coast. But looks can be deceiving.

In this part of the Great Bear Rainforest, carnage lingers under the sea: in 2016, the tugboat Nathan E. Stewart ran aground on Edge Reef, spilling more than 100,000 litres of diesel fuel into the Heiltsuk Nation’s waters. Powerful winds pushed the fuel across Seaforth Channel and into Gale Pass, a critical marine harvesting site. The event is something the nation’s members, many of whom served as first responders on the spill, are still struggling with, both emotionally and economically.

Nearly two years later, many marine species in these waters remain contaminated. The Heiltsuk’s manila clam fishery, which provided up to $200,000 of annual income for the remote community, has been unable to reopen. In response, the Heiltsuk and other First Nations who have borne witness to increasing marine traffic, have lobbied the federal government to give them a more proactive role, and the resources needed, in defending and managing their coastal territories.

Last week, while the world marked National Indigenous Peoples Day, the First Nations came one step closer to realizing their goals.

Prime Minister Justin Trudeau joined First Nations leaders at the Prince Rupert Coast Guard Base to announce a partnership with 14 B.C. North Coast First Nations that will promote reconciliation alongside environmental management.

The accord, named the “Reconciliation Framework Agreement for Bioregional Oceans Management and Protection,” is the first of its kind to link the federal government’s mandate of reconciliation with Canada’s Indigenous peoples to the objective of environmental protection.

The agreement will help protect Canada’s Northern Shelf bioregion, which includes the north and central coast of B.C., Haida Gwaii and northern Vancouver island, and will create a landscape of shared authority that recognizes the importance of Indigenous knowledge-based management.

“First Nations have a well thought out understanding of what the needs of this coast are, and through our millennia-old relationship with our territory and our intimate knowledge of our waterways, we are best suited to determine what is needed to protect our waters,” Heiltsuk Chief Councillor Marilyn Slett told The Narwhal.

A humpback whale surfaces in the Great Bear Rainforest. Photo: Gloria Dickie.

Though the exact details of the agreement have yet to be released, it’s intended that it will build off the government’s promised $1.5 billion investment into a national Oceans Protection Plan. That plan strives to improve marine safety and responsible shipping, as well as protect the marine environment — although it’s been met with considerable cynicism in B.C. where Trudeau has pushed for a seven-fold increase in oil tanker traffic through Vancouver Harbour, as part of the expansion of the Trans Mountain pipeline.

“When we announced the Plan, we envisioned Indigenous people as guides in managing Canada’s oceans,” Trudeau said at last week’s press conference. Together, he says, First Nations and the federal government will coordinate efforts on marine spatial planning along two-thirds of the B.C. coast and develop a network of Marine Protected Areas, as well as improve waterway management and boost the response capacity of First Nations.

The latter portion could come in the form of funding the Heiltsuk’s $111.5 million proposal for an Indigenous Marine Response Centre in their territory, to respond to disasters like the Nathan E. Stewart. Had the community been equipped with an oil spill response facility and fleet, the nation feels things would have turned out differently. In the months that followed, the Heiltsuk were highly critical of the federal government’s slow response to the spill, scoffing at Canada’s branding of a “world-leading” response.

But Chief Slett seemed cautiously optimistic at Thursday’s gathering that the Centre would come to fruition.

“[It’s a] major investment, but it’s required if we’re going to live up to the agreement that we signed and that we’re celebrating here today around truly protecting the ocean,” Slett said.

Though the government has made no final decision on the Heiltsuk proposal, a spokesperson said they will be delivering training in spill response and search and rescue, as well as collaborating with Indigenous peoples to develop an information system that provides real-time information on vessel traffic and marine conditions.

It’s likely the central and north coast of British Columbia will serve as a testing ground for how reconciliation can play out on the ground, with hopes that this model can then be replicated in other parts of Canada.

Increasingly, the government has been investing in Indigenous environmental stewardship, with $25 million allocated in last year’s budget for an Indigenous Guardians Program, which assists band members in becoming stewards of their ancestral lands and waters. Coastal First Nations have such a network of Coastal Guardian Watchmen who patrol their territories for illegal activity and facilitate environmental monitoring projects and conservation work.

Coastal Guardian Watchmen patrol their territories. Photo: Gloria Dickie.

A government spokesperson said that in the near term, Canada intends to initiate collaborative processes around the Bay of Fundy/Scotian Shelf, the Newfoundland/Labrador Shelves, the Estuary and Gulf of St. Lawrence and the Salish Sea. The latter will undoubtedly become a war of wills, given the federal government’s intention to expand the Trans Mountain pipeline, thereby increasing the volume of oilsands bitumen shipped through the Salish Sea.

“Our elders tell us, if we take care of the ocean, the ocean will take care of us,” Slett said. “This value will ensure our cultural survival.”

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By Chief Councillor Marilyn Slett and Councillor Jaimie Harris, Heiltsuk Nation. This piece first appeared on The Tyee.

On Oct. 13, 2016, shortly after 1 a.m., Kirby Corporation’s tug the Nathan E. Stewart and its barge ran aground in the heart of Heiltsuk territory.

Less than eight hours later it had sunk, and 110,000 litres of diesel fuel and 2,000 litres of lubricants, heavy oils, other pollutants were released into the surrounding waters.

On charts, the area northwest of Bella Bella is known as Gale Passage, but to our people, this is Q’vúqvai.

For millennia, it has been the site of one our ancient tribal groups, the Q́vúqvaýáitx̌v; a home to ceremonial practices (past and present); and one of our richest harvest grounds. Until diesel saturated these shellfish beds last fall, our people harvested at least 25 food species from the area, including the red sea urchins, sea cucumber, herring roe, rockfish, halibut, and clams.

Despite deploying first responders as soon as possible, our people were helpless to stop the spill.

ICYMI: ‘Nothing Has Changed’: B.C.’s Botched Oil Spill Response Haunts First Nation

For us, the spill is a catastrophic injury to our food sources, culture, and economy and, thanks to Kirby Corporation and the governments of British Columbia and Canada, we expect the road to recovery will be a long one.

To date, Kirby Corporation has been unwilling to meet our requests for comprehensive post-spill research or a health impact assessment. Instead, the U.S.-owned corporation has purported to be proceeding with a limited environmental impact assessment, looking only at sampling and monitoring work conducted in a short period of time after the oil spill and a one-week period in early 2017. (Technically, impact assessments are not a required part of the federal and provincial government’s “world class” oil spill response.)

The B.C. Ministry of Environment and Kirby are apparently negotiating some kind of memorandum of agreement regarding the purported impact assessment, but have excluded us from those discussions.

In light of this inadequate and exclusionary approach, we are proceeding with our own impact assessment.

Why We're Taking the Gov to Court Over That Promise of 'World-Class' #OilSpill Response https://t.co/6FD36X483f #cdnpoli #nathanestewart

— DeSmog Canada (@DeSmogCanada) September 1, 2017

The assessment will have three parts: a Western science component, a traditional knowledge component, and a health impact assessment.

The Western science component will rely on the biological sciences to help determine the current and long-term impacts of the spill on the health of the ecosystem and marine resources.

The traditional assessment is based on Heiltsuk knowledge and will seek to understand how long it will be before harvesting can safely begin again.

ICYMI: North Coast Oil Tanker Ban Won’t Actually Ban Tankers Full of Oil Products on B.C.’s North Coast

Finally, the health impact assessment will be based on health, social science, and first person research used to determine the impacts of the events on our members. These include the social and economic consequences associated with the loss of harvest and the use of the impacted area.

In addition, we are preparing to take legal action, aiming to recover damages suffered by our people as well as to examine the actual state of Canada’s “world class” oil spill response system.

The case will be about recovering damages for loss of commercial harvesting of marine resources and loss of Aboriginal rights relating to food, but also relating to the social and ceremonial importance of marine resources — factors that the current oil spill liability framework does not account for. The existing framework excuses both the polluter and government from full responsibility for spill impacts on Aboriginal rights otherwise protected by the Constitution.

It is unacceptable that our social and cultural rights are paramount in principle, but evaporate in practice.

In light of this, along with the deficiencies we documented in the spill response and broader concerns related to the lack of consultation regarding marine plans in our territory, we will also be asking the courts to assess whether the existing regime of liability for oil spills can really be considered constitutional.

Based on our experience, the current system is anything but world-class, and government and polluters must be held accountable.

Councillor Jaimie Harris is visiting Salt Spring Island (Sept. 1) to share her account of the fuel spill. The tour is being organized by RAVEN (Respecting Aboriginal Values and Environmental Needs) as a fundraiser for the Heiltsuk’s legal defense. The event also features underwater photography from the spill site. For details, click here.

Image: The sunken Nathan E. Stewart. Photo: Tavish Campbell and the Heiltsuk Tribal Council

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On October 13, just after 1 a.m, and only eight months after British Columbia signed the Great Bear Rainforest Agreements — set in place to protect the world’s largest coastal temperate rainforest — the Nathan E. Stewart tugboat ran aground near Bella Bella.

Even though the 10,000-tonne fuel barge the tugboat was pushing was empty, the wreck managed to release more than 100,000 litres of diesel into the heart of the Heiltsuk First Nation’s traditional territory.

Now, six months after the American tug-barge on route from Alaska ran aground, the Heiltsuk First Nation has released a 75-page report on the Nathan E. Stewart oil spill that exposes the failures of Canada’s oil spill response system and a refusal from both the government and the company to share information with those affected by the spill.

“The first 48 hours were critical for mitigation,” Heiltsuk First Nation Chief Marilyn Slett told DeSmog Canada. “What the crew reported to us during interviews was that there was confusion about who was taking charge at the incident site.”

The First Nation’s integrated resource manager learned about the spill when he received a telephone call from the B.C. Ministry of Environment around 4:30 a.m. on October 13th. Vessels were on their way to Gale Passage by 6:30 that morning.

The report highlights delays in equipment arriving to the site, delays in deploying booms and an insufficient number of booms being made available.

Heiltsuk members who acted as first responders were not provided with any safety equipment or briefing on the health impacts related to the exposure to diesel, which is highly toxic.

The area most affected by the diesel leak, Gale Passage, is an important harvesting and ceremonial site and is considered a “breadbasket” of the Heiltsuk community. Since the spill the Heiltsuk has been forced to close its clam fishery.

It took responders over 30 days to remove the sunken tugboat from the water. By then the federal government had announced the “Oceans Protection Plan,”  which pledged $1.5 billion over five years to increase marine safety, marine oil spill cleanup research and restore marine ecosystems across Canada.

But according to Slett, the plan doesn’t amount to the world-class oil spill response regime British Columbians have been promised for years (a promise Premier Christy Clark reiterated in the wake of the Nathan E. Stewart spill).

“Nothing has changed since this spill,” Slett said.

“As it stands today, if something was to happen, we’re still under the same spill response regime.”

Slett added that, according to the Heiltsuk experience, “a real spill-response regime does not exist.”

One of the key-findings from the investigation was that the tugboat had been waived from requiring an onboard local pilot. And it appears that the tug replacing the Nathan E. Stewart is operating with the same waiver. Even though the tugboat repeatedly travelled through their territory, the Heiltsuk didn’t know about the waiver system until after the incident.

The proposed federal ban on oil tankers on the North Coast of B.C. also wouldn’t have prevented a vessel like the Nathan E. Stewart from traversing Heiltsuk water, because it falls just below the capacity limit proposed by the feds.

Since the Nathan E. Stewart spill, B.C. has approved the Kinder Morgan Trans Mountain pipeline, which would greatly increase the amount of oil tanker traffic in B.C. waters.

One of the conditions of approval — “world class oil spill response” — is something the province also failed to demonstrate in the wake of the 2015 Marathassa bunker fuel spill in Vancouver’s English Bay.

A report by West Coast Environmental Law in 2016 found the province’s oil response “overhaul” was seriously lacking.

“Changes that we recommend include that the policy level planning needs to be taken out of the hand of industry and led by both the provincial government and First Nations, with the opportunity for community input,” explained Gavin Smith, staff counsel at West Coast Environmental Law.

The report also recommended a citizens advisory council to allow for public input from people with localized knowledge.

Given that First Nations are often the first responders, Slett says First Nations and communities should be included in all decisions related to the movement of oil products through their land, especially oil spill response systems.

“We live on the coast. These are our traditional territories, we know the areas, we know the tides, we know the weather patterns, and we’re the first ones out there,” she said.

“What we can take from this and what we would like to see happen in conversations with B.C. and Canada is a recognized role for First Nations as first responders.”

Image: Diesel spill from the Nathan E. Stewart. Photo: Heiltsuk Tribal Council

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I’m irritated today. Maybe it’s a case of the Mondays. Maybe it’s because B.C.’s pipeline incident webpage has been down for over a month. Or maybe it’s because the amount of oil spilled from a pipeline into an Alberta wetland, first reported on October 6, remains undetermined.

But I think the real reason is that a media request I placed with the B.C. government on Thursday last week — to speak with a scientist about the barge that ran aground on the central coast last week and its tug that’s leaking diesel into Heiltsuk territory— has yet to be fulfilled.

Not that I’ve been ignored. No, on the contrary, I’ve received helpful messages along the lines of ‘don’t lose hope, Carol! We’re going to connect you with a real, live scientist soon. Very soon!’

Yeah, um, not holding my breath.

Maybe I’ve become a little too accustomed to the improved access journalists now have to federal scientists. But in B.C. it remains a different story.

Although I knew the name and e-mail address of the scientist I needed to speak to about the diesel spill and was able to contact him directly on the day of the incident, he said my interview request had to be routed through communications staff.

And so it was.

What will likely happen now, in an all-too-familiar fashion, is the interview will be delayed until after the media wave — which has raised questions about the hazards of oil transport on the coast and government’s inadequate spill response measures — has all but passed.

That's a shame, because local community members and the public would benefit from knowing what a taxpayer-funded Ministry of Environment expert could tell us about the nature of the spill and efforts to clean it up.

In the meantime, the Heiltsuk First Nation, which has already borne the burden of being first responders to the spill, is also playing the role of chief information outpost, fielding calls from journalists like me amid generating press releases, taking media calls and keeping their community informed.

Huge concern for our animal relatives as this unfolds. Orcas spotted near contamination site this morning. #NathanEStewart

— Jess Housty (@heiltsukvoice) October 17, 2016

Jess Housty, a Heiltsuk elected tribal councillor, has been tirelessly informing journalists, the public and her community through Twitter and Facebook.

Along with her brother, William Housty, who is leading containment and clean up efforts, chief tribal councillor Marilyn Slett and other members of the community, Housty has been saddled with the important work of describing what is happening in the area — like where the sunken tug and lingering diesel fuel are, what is being done to contain the damage and what is at stake for local wildlife and the community.

The Heiltsuk reported the spill occurred in an area critical for 25 marine species. Indeed, the spill has directly impacted the Heiltsuk’s clams beds that were just about to open for fall harvest.

#Heiltsuk lead #NathanEStewart #fuelspill cleanup & public communications where govt’s fail https://t.co/4TIiaEux9v @heiltsukvoice #bcpoli

— DeSmog Canada (@DeSmogCanada) October 18, 2016

The Heiltsuk aren’t strangers to natural resource tragedy. The community was at the centre of a major battle with the federal government over its right to fish for herring, a tradition it had relied on since time immemorial.

By the time the nation’s case had made it through the courts, the commercial fishing industry, with the sanction of the federal government and their exorbitantly expensive licences, had all but decimated the herring stocks.

That fishery only partially reopened earlier this year.

Now, with the ongoing spill containment and clean up in Heiltsuk territory, the community is once again bearing a disproportionate burden, stepping in where the federal and provincial governments have failed.

Premier Christy Clark used the diesel spill as an opportunity to blame the federal government for not protecting coastal waters.

But Clark’s own government put off the release of a provincial marine oil spill plan until after the 2017 election.

Go figure.

Image: The tug of the Nathan E. Stewart barge partially submerged and leaking diesel fuel in Heiltsuk water. Photo: West Coast Marine Response Corporation handout

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Some of the strongest legal challenges against the federally approved Enbridge Northern Gateway pipeline come from B.C.’s First Nations and supporters from across B.C. are digging into their pockets to help ensure those are a success.

Pull Together, a grassroots campaign to raise funds for the legal challenges of six First Nations, has been so successful organizers are bumping their goal from $250,000 up to $300,000 by December 31.

On Thursday the Haidi Nation announced they would join the initiative alongside the Gitxaala, Heiltsuk, Kitaxoo/Xai’xias, Nadleh Whut’en and Nak’azdli Nations to carry legal challenges forward against Enbridge’s project.

“The Pull Together campaign is driven by people who care and are politically astute,” said kil tlaats ‘gaa Peter Lantin, President of the Haida Nation. “They can see how the future of the country is shaping up and want to be part of it.”

Chief Marilyn Slett of the Heiltsuk Tribal Council said the fight against the Northern Gateway is a “global issue.”

“It’s an issue that we all should be standing up to protect the land and the sea, we have that responsibility as human beings.”

First Nations lead legal challenge against Northern Gateway

First Nations hold unique constitutional powers in Canada and assert Canada’s “duty to consult and accommodate” leaves individual nations with the ultimate decision-making power over resource projects on traditional territories.

Since 2010 over 100 First Nations have signed the Save the Fraser Declaration, an indigenous-law based agreement definitively banning oil pipelines and tankers in their territories. In 2010 nine coastal First Nations signed the Coastal First Nations Declaration that pledged “oil tankers carrying crude oil from the Alberta Tar Sands will not be allows to transit our lands and waters.”

According to a legal analysis performed by West Coast Environmental Law, B.C.’s First Nations “have the right to issue a ban on oil pipelines and crude oil tankers in their territories, based in their own ancestral laws, in Canadian constitutional law, and in international law.”

At least nine legal challenges have been launched by First Nations to stop the Enbridge Northern Gateway pipeline from being built. After the federal government approved the pipeline, a large group of First Nations, Councils and Assemblies launched a joint federal suit announcing,  “we will defend our territories whatever the cost may be.”

While some have criticized these legal arguments as tenuous, a historic decision in the June 2014 Williams Case for the first time acknowledged a local First Nation, the Tsilhqot’in, has legal title to their traditional territories. This sets a legal precedent for other First Nations to make similar claims to legal rights and title over their lands.

Under the Tsilhqot’in decision, economic development can still proceed on traditional territories with local First Nations’ consent or where the government can demonstrate that development is pressing and substantial.

As part of its pre-construction conditions Enbridge must prove it adequately consulted with all potentially affected First Nations and that it has plans in place to mitigate or repair any damage caused by the construction and operation of a pipeline on traditional lands.

Individuals, businesses, faith groups get behind B.C.’s First Nations

Over 30 businesses and more than 1,000 individual donors have come together in more than 100 online fundraisers to help Pull Together, an initiative of the Sierra Club BC and Victoria-based legal defense fund RAVEN, work towards its goal.

“British Columbians do not want First Nations to stand alone against Enbridge and they’re demonstrating this with passion, creativity and their wallets,” said Sierra Club BC campaigns director Caitlyn Vernon. “It’s incredible to think that Pull Together began in the summer with a community group in Terrace raising $2,000, and now we have raised a hundred times that.”

SumofUs.org, a global corporate watchdog and advocacy group, raised more than $40,000 for Pull Together and Heiltsuk councilor, Jess Housty, contributed over $5,700 from funds her and her husband raised at their October 18th wedding.

Moksha yoga studios are also participating in a “Stretch Across B.C. Challenge” which has raised $8,500 from participating studios across the province. The community of Pender Island raised over $4,000 by hosting a local concert and the United Church of Canada pledged to fundraise from its congregations throughout the month of November.  

Susan Smitten, executive director of RAVEN said financing legal challenges against the pipeline is a “an extensive, costly legal process.”

“The next stage involves gathering all of the evidence required for the Nations to make their cases at Court,” she said.

“While the Nations are committed to going it alone, standing together and pooling resources with all British Columbians ensures equal access to justice and a successful outcome with much more likelihood of success.”

Image Credit: Mandy Nahanee speaking at The Answer is Still NO!, a public rally in response to the Northern Gateway federal approval. Photo by Zack Embree.

The Narwhal’s reporters are telling environment stories you won’t read about anywhere else. Stay in the loop by signing up for our free weekly dose of independent journalism.

Last week I signed the Let BC Vote pledge. You could say I’m late to the party. More than 200,000 British Columbians signed before me. I’ve been aware of the Dogwood Initiative-led campaign since it launched, and I’ve watched the numbers grow. But I wanted to reason it through before deciding with conviction that it is part of my path forward.

For the last few years I’ve worked in my community and beyond to help build the momentum we need to stop Enbridge Northern Gateway. I’m not trained as a leader or organizer. I came to this work before I felt ready, and I learned on my feet. I’ve made my share of gut decisions in the heat of battle, and learned to be grateful when I have the luxury of examining every angle of a campaign before I commit to it.

Now that the federal government has approved this project, we could be in for a long fight. I believe pipeline opponents have been laying the groundwork for sustained action since day one, but what carries us through will be smart strategies, high levels of organization, and commitment. I may have taken my time, but Let BC Vote has my commitment. Because this is more than a drive to build a list and collect signatures. It’s an opportunity to build capacity, demand accountability, and strengthen alliances – and all of those actions are critical at this stage of the fight.

Two systems of law and governance

Smart organizers invest in a diversity of tactics, and lead with the strongest in any situation. The tactics available to us in this fight are complex, because the communities who are organizing are interacting with two very different systems of law and governance.

Let me explain: I am Indigenous, and I am Heiltsuk. The Heiltsuk have a set of laws and customs that goes back to our First Generation, and that system is the one that primarily guides my actions. Heiltsuk people also maintain an original system of government that organizes how we function as a society. I’m not talking about the federally-imposed system of Indian Act governments; I’m talking about our hereditary chiefs who are groomed from birth to be rights-holders who uphold the ways of our people.

More broadly, Canada has a set of federal and provincial laws and governance that is primary to my Settler allies. I respond to it as well, but for me, it comes second.

Those two systems of law and governance make three sets of tactics available to us. Think of them as two circles. I want to talk about those circles, and the space where they overlap.

In one circle, you have the Indigenous system. This system is what empowers our hereditary chiefs to say no – no, on the basis that this project is inconsistent with our laws and customs. No, on the strength of their authority as chiefs. In the other circle, you have the Settler system. This system includes federal and provincial legislation that is meant to impartially vet and regulate projects like Northern Gateway.

Let’s be frank. My laws and customs as an Indigenous person are my highest truth, but I live in a country that sidesteps the power of that truth. And Canadians are living under a regime – at least federally – that systematically dismantles inconvenient legislation and regulations so projects like Northern Gateway can barrel ahead.

So what is possible where the Indigenous and Settler circles overlap? One clear example is in the courts. As the recent Tsilhqot’in decision reinforced, Indigenous rights and title hold real, tangible power within the Canadian legal system.

This is the battle plan that pipeline opponents have had in their back pocket since day one: Indigenous people fighting and stopping Northern Gateway in Canadian court, on the basis that this project would intrude onto territories to which we hold title, and infringe on our rights. As these cases proceed there is a supportive role for Settler allies to play in areas like fundraising and communications, but with this tactic the burden of leadership rests with Indigenous people.

Where is the burden of leadership for Settler people? A majority of Indigenous groups in British Columbia have rejected Enbridge Northern Gateway under their own systems of law, while a majority of British Columbians reject this plan for their home province too. Based on those two facts, what power can non-Indigenous people seize?

I believe the answer lies in the citizens’ initiative.

By organizing in ridings across the province, by stepping up as leaders within their own communities, and by drafting and proposing legislation that fits their values, citizens have a powerful opportunity – available only in British Columbia – to hold their provincial government to account. For as Ottawa acknowledged the day it approved the pipeline, B.C. still has the power to stop it. Without 60 permits from Premier Clark, Enbridge may not proceed.

I don’t want my Settler brothers and sisters to point to the Indigenous legal battle and say “We believe you’re going to win.” I want to hear them say they’re ready to work shoulder-to-shoulder, with each of us seizing the power that best enables us to win together. If diverse tactics are available, let’s be wise enough to consider all of them. Preparing for a citizens’ initiative does not undermine title or rights. Rather, it builds our collective political power.

Final thoughts

For me, the core of this issue is simple: leaders must be accountable to their people, regardless of the scale of leadership. If leaders forget who they represent, then the people need to organize. I know this truth from my own leadership in a community that is not afraid to correct my course if there is a better way for me to carry their interests forward.

Scale that spirit up to the provincial level. Elections are not our only opportunity to remind leaders whose interests they’re meant to represent in office. Trooping to the ballot box every four years is not enough to hold Christy Clark accountable. Let’s use every means available to hold her to the truth that her mandate comes from the people of B.C., and the people of B.C. expect her to join us in stopping Enbridge.

When it comes to being allies, let’s remember we are in this fight together. It is no longer enough to show solidarity. I am humbly asking my Settler allies to be solidary. It’s the difference between a finite action and a way of being. We need to work strategically in the space where our values and power overlap. I am committed to upholding the truth of my laws and stories, to helping my chiefs defend our rights and title in the courts. And I am committed to supporting my Settler brothers and sisters who choose to organize around an action that puts power back in their hands too.

By signing the Let BC Vote pledge, I am gesturing my willingness to be solidary with my Settler brothers and sisters. It’s time for all of us to rise up, build our organizing capacity, and exercise it in actions that advance us toward our goal of stopping this pipeline. I’m with you until we win.

I came into my role as a leader and community organizer because of Enbridge Northern Gateway. My elders taught me that you don’t get to choose the moment when you’re called to leadership; the only thing that’s up to you is courage and conviction. That teaching has guided me through many moments of uncertainty, and it’s the message I’ve most often shared with Indigenous and Settler people alike: respond to what this moment is asking of you. This fight is too big for us to do otherwise.

This article originally appeared on jesshousty.com.

The Narwhal’s reporters are telling environment stories you won’t read about anywhere else. Stay in the loop by signing up for our free weekly dose of independent journalism.

More and more often, we are reading in the news about the federal government and various intelligence and law enforcement agencies allegedly “spying” on aboriginals and pipeline opponents.

I am both of those things. I have no idea whether strangers are picking up shards of information from my emails and text messages. I have no idea what kind of beautiful stained-glass mosaics their imaginations might create. But in the spirit of wild and optimistic honesty, I would like to make a declaration to them, just in case:

I have nothing to hide from you.

Sometimes I can be arrogant. I’m very bad at playing guitar, but you know, I think I can sing pretty nicely. I like an embarrassing amount of honey in my tea. When I hike in the forest, I like to run. I write poems on napkins and receipts and scraps of paper and most of the time, I lose them; maybe you’ve found some. I don’t make my bed. Even though I think they’re silly, sometimes when it’s laundry day I resort to wearing animal print underpants.

I love my family so much it feels like my heart could burst out of my chest. Yeah, I know that emotions don’t really come from the little organ hidden behind my ribs, but I’ll admit it: I simplify the things that are too complex for me to comprehend, and I am content with those little truths I create. Besides, my family is pretty amazing. I really think my cousins build better forts than anyone else in the world, and they’re all my best friends.

It’s not just my family, though. I love my people. I really believe this: there are salmon swimming in my veins. Isn’t that incredible? My vertebrae are just stones from an old fishtrap arranged into a spine. My whole body belongs to the land I come from. I didn’t inherit the legacy of my ancestors; I’m part of a continuum. My whole sense of time is probably different from yours. I have 10,000 beautiful years of history on my shoulders and I live my life hoping that future generations will nod quietly to themselves someday and think of me as just another face in the vast village of ancestors that lives in their imagination. I’m Heiltsuk; it’s imprinted in every cell in my body.

Okay, that probably sounded a little smug. I told you I can be arrogant. Really, though, I wish everyone could experience how beautiful it is to know where you come from and to know where your bones will rest too. With a good heart, I wish you the peace that comes from having deep roots.

What else should I tell you? I was going to say “that you should never be afraid of me,” but I’m not sure that would be honest of me, and this is an exercise in honesty after all.

A journalist asked me a question once. Well, journalists ask me questions all the time – I’m not sure why – but there was one question I particularly liked. Not because it was original, but because of how he asked it.

This journalist, he was sitting on my deck last summer in Bella Bella, and a couple of barn swallows were swooping over us while he interviewed me. We were trying to have a very grave conversation, but it was a sunny day, and my heart was feeling light. After awhile, his formal interview tone just sort of dissipated, and then he asked me in a small voice: “Do you think this pipeline will get built?”

I couldn’t help it. It was instinct. I started giving my usual, predictable response. “I’ll be dead before this pipeline gets built,” I snapped. Then I paused and thought about his tone. And so he looked relieved when my voice got softer too, and then I said a thing I really do believe with all my heart: “But I hope it’s the case that I die an old, old woman, whose grandchildren never got tired of hearing how granny watched the people rise up to defeat the pipeline.”

I don’t want to die to stop this from happening. More importantly, I don’t want to ask other people to risk their own wellbeing to fight beside me if it comes to that. It’s why I work so hard to find peaceful resolutions. But people can be hard and soft at the same time, you know. I want justice for the land and its people without any violence. But that is secondary to a simpler statement: I want justice for the land and its people. I hope we find justice and peace; I know we will find justice.

I’m arrogant sometimes, but often it’s to cover up being nervous. When the journalist’s voice went quiet that afternoon, I should have known that for a moment, he was just a nervous person asking me a personal question. And you know what? I believe we should reciprocate the trust that comes with someone making themselves vulnerable in front of us.

That probably sounded like I expect you to trust me with your vulnerability too, stranger, if you do indeed exist. But don’t feel pressed. Making space for something isn’t the same as asking for it. Just know that if you want to tell me your secrets, I will respect them.

If you remember just one thing from what I’ve shared, I hope it’s not that I own animal print underpants or that sometimes I switch to autopilot when I’m being interviewed by journalists. I hope you remember that I have nothing to hide from you.

Maybe you’re worried that I’m organizing a riot when all I’m really doing is building community. Maybe you think I’m opposing development when really what I’m doing is protecting something sacred. Maybe you have questions about place-based indigenous identity. Or maybe you don’t ever ask yourself “Why?” Me, though, I sleep well at night because I do my work with a good heart; I’ll answer any questions you ask of me in the same spirit. If you’re out there, and if you’re “spying,” come out of the shadows. Be the audience to a story. Or be a participant in dialogue. Let’s understand one another instead of one side watching the other. Don’t be passive; be bold, and engage!

You don’t need to worry. My people have a long tradition of feasting with their enemies.

I’ve made peace with the possibility of watchers. I hope someday when this is all over, you will come out and publicly affirm all that to which you bore witness when reading my emails: that my boyfriend is, as I often rave to my friends, incredibly handsome; that the seventeenth round of edits to that draft of my thesis chapter is good enough already; and that as I write to my sister in Vancouver quite frequently, I’d give just about anything to share a cup of tea with her. I really do miss her. But you know that.

Does that sound like a deal? If so, give me a sign. I’m sure you are able to manipulate my devices and accounts to do so.

In the spirit of kindness, Jess

Read more from Jess on her blog Coast: Stories, Poems and Personal Journal.

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