Laws of Matriarch

I had a dream, a vision woven with the threads of our struggle to protect the land, a path that carries a heavy cost. I saw the faces of many, and I knew that lives may be lost in this fight. In my dream, there was a white woman, self-absorbed and ignorant, who clung to the lie of the Indian Act—that we are lesser, that we are children who should remain wards of the state. This is the belief held by her people. I watched as she fell, a harsh lesson written in the fabric of the dream. We will face great loss, but in that loss, I also saw a transition—a fight for the future. A young Native man approached me at a place of reflection, where I sat as an elder, worn from the weight of so much loss. He was well-dressed, exuding strength and respect. He shared with me that the people were waiting for a crucial decision, a moment that would determine whether the laws would change to honor our Aboriginal laws or continue down the path of white law. In that moment, I felt my spirit rising, as I ...

We are part of the animal world. Growing up, I didn't know much about the raven, but I heard many stories about it. Those stories never carried the main lesson for me. As Gitxsan people, we don't fancy up our spirituality. Our lives on the West Coast are tied to the land and the sea—filled with seafood, moose, deer, rabbits, grouse, and the plants that grow here. We’ve learned to respect all spirits. When we take an animal's life, we do it respectfully, honoring its spirit and returning its remains with gratitude. Every day is sacred. Our ancestors guide us, and the divine is both within us and around us—every thought we have is a prayer. In the end, it's not about our outward appearances. What truly matters is how we, as spirits, carry ourselves with respect and honor. We have our mystical and magical stories that shape our gatherings and experiences, reminding us of our connection to all living things. In Gitxsan spiritual beliefs, ancestors hold a central and revered...

Loss In fleeting moments, joy breaks through,   Yet shadows linger, sadness too.   I feel the weight of your absence near,   A silent echo that I hold dear.   I shed my tears, sometimes for me,   For those I've lost, who used to be.   My son, my sister, my brother, my kin,   My grandma, my husband—where to begin?   I reached for them when times were tough,   Sought their laughter, their warmth, their love.   But now the silence stretches wide,   A space where memories and heartache abide.   I know they dance in skies so bright,   In realms of joy, in purest light.   Yet part of my spirit left with each one,   A bond that lingers, though their time is done.   It’s not just sorrow that I bear,   But a physical ache, a weight of despair.   Still, I hold close the moments we shared,   The laughter, the love, the times when we cared.   The spirits are with us, they never stray,   Whisperi...

In our Gitxsan culture, we understand the concept of shaming, and we hold a shame feast, or potlatch, when a member of our house "soils their blanket" by committing a serious crime against someone from another Native Nation or tribe. It is a significant event because only Chiefs use blankets, and wearing one is a great honor. The entire house works together to support their Chief and keep the strength of the house and tribe intact. Everyone belonging to the house is held 100% accountable, and we are seen as one united family. In cases of unforgivable crimes, such as child rape or murder, the house may allow the offender to be taken "hunting," which signifies a death sentence. The death of that house member is mourned deeply, just like any other loss. A feast or potlatch would follow, which would include payments to the victim, the house chief, and the members of the community. While this practice isn't followed in Canada today, we recognize that Gladue Rights ca...

The potlatch continues, and today we refer to it as the Feast since it had to go underground for a time. In our tradition, it’s not just the Chiefs who play a role; the Houses themselves are responsible for paying witnesses and workers with new items and food. The House supports the Chief, showcasing the strength of both the House and the Tribe. I may have shared this before, but when I was a child, we Gitxsan would hold a feast. A feast is something that fits within the framework of acceptable Christian events. The Indian Agents, who later became the RCMP and the band management, would allow us to gather, but only for Christian events. The Chiefs were aware that if we held a potlatch, someone could end up in jail, as had happened before. So, the Chiefs found a clever way to communicate and continue our traditions. From 1885 until 1951, the federal government banned the potlatch as part of an effort to destroy Indigenous culture and religion. This ban was part of the Indian Act, which ...

Today is going to be really great; I’ll be gathering with some women to pray together. There’s a special energy that flows when we come together, sharing our hearts and intentions. I used to visit Musqueam often to join the healing group led by Jeri Sparrow. Those gatherings were incredibly healing for me, especially after my son passed away. Being surrounded by women who focused on traditional healing helped me navigate my grief, and I truly miss that sense of community. I also participated in the Sun Dance, even though it’s not my own tradition. My dad taught me to learn about other traditions as a sign of respect, but he always reminded me to hold onto my own identity. Gitxsan spirituality is rooted in simplicity; we believe that the spirit of the Creator is within us and around us. Every thought we have is a prayer, a way to connect with the world. We respect all spirits and all forms of life because our ancestors walk with us every day, and each moment is sacred. My grandfather a...

The bear with the tongue hanging out of its mouth is not what you think.  Gather around, and let me share a story that carries the weight of our history, a tale that speaks of resilience and survival. Many people do not understand the significance of the tongue, often mistaking it as merely a feature of the bear. But there is much more to this story, one that we must keep alive as our Aboriginal stories, culture, and beliefs are too often appropriated for the profit of others. In our tradition, totem poles are read from the bottom up, with the tribe usually depicted at the base. It is important to note that the Gitxsan do not have a bear tribe. Instead, the bear symbolizes Russia, a powerful force that once threatened our lands. Long ago, the West Coast nations—including the Gitxsan, Nisga'a, Haida, and others—joined together to stand against Russia when they began to claim our traditional territories and take our people as slaves. Among those who suffered was a woman from th...

Not too long ago, I spoke at a community meeting about how public health services are not accessible to those who are poor, and even less accessible to Aboriginal people, specifically status Indians. There’s this ongoing myth that people living on reserves have more rights, but the truth is, we are still governed by the Indian Act, both on and off reserve. When we’re off reserve, we are seen as less Indian and have fewer rights. We talk about self-determination, but that self-determination is often dictated by Canadian courts and the government. Our identity as a people is defined by the government, unlike other groups—Chinese are considered Chinese, Asians are seen as Asians, and French people are just that. But for us, our identity is tied to the Indian Act. Even though we are granted some human rights, the reality is that we still don’t fully experience them. Any changes to the Indian Act have to go through the courts, and only a limited number of Aboriginal cases can be heard at a ...