We amplify marginalized voices and create meaningful work for those experiencing poverty

We amplify marginalized voices and create meaningful work for those experiencing poverty

This image has an empty alt attribute, its filename is tall-trees.png
Back to Newsroom

From Acknowledging to honouring

‘When [First Nations, Inuit and Métis] talk about our territories, we’re encompassing our villages, our medicines, our foods, our ceremonies, our songs — that’s territory.’

Priscillia Mays Tait
Writer, Visual Storyteller

This image has an empty alt attribute, its filename is tall-trees.png

We’ve all heard it countless times.

“I’d like to acknowledge that we are gathered here today on the unceded territory of the Musqueam, Squamish and Tsleil-Waututh Nations…”

But nearly a decade after the release of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission’s (TRC) final report in 2015, many are asking — is it enough?

Once intended as a gesture of recognition and respect for Indigenous Peoples and their lands, land acknowledgements have now become routine — spoken at conferences, classrooms, concerts and council meetings. But do they still carry meaning? Or have they slipped into a performative ritual?

It’s worth remembering that the practice itself isn’t new. Long before the arrival of Europeans, Indigenous nations acknowledged whose lands they were visiting — a protocol rooted in respect and still upheld today.

But since the TRC’s final report, acknowledgements have become widespread among settlers, especially in Vancouver. In 2016, the city formally declared itself a “City of Reconciliation,” embedding land acknowledgements into civic culture. Today, they are often mandatory in public institutions. But the question remains: how much change has followed the words?

To coincide with National Indigenous History Month in June, Megaphone photojournalist Priscillia Mays Tait sat down with matriarchs from the city’s three host nations to reflect on what land acknowledgements were meant to do, what they’ve actually achieved and whether settlers are living up to the responsibilities that come with speaking these names on the lands they continue to occupy.

Cecilia Point

Cecilia Point is a xʷməθkʷəy̓əm (Musqueam) band member whose family used to live in what is now Steveston at Derry Point and were referred to as “the Indians on the point.” When the government asked for a surname, her grandfather chose Point.

Her grandmother was from the Sḵwx̱wú7mesh Úxwumixw (Squamish Nation) and had her Chilean father’s last name, Cortez. Point’s father lived on both Musqueam and Squamish reserves, and she herself grew up in Richmond.

Cecilia Point photo submitted.

Point sits on the Lands Planning Committee for Musqueam and is also a designated speaker for her reserve. While answering calls to fulfill Musqueam protocol requirements, she got to know people in the Downtown Eastside (DTES), and found that “it’s so interesting where everyone is from.”

Recognizing how much work needs to be done, she decided to contribute to the DTES community, in addition to what she already was doing for her own. 

Point is on the board of directors of Battered Women’s Support Services, and sits on the Missing and Murdered Women’s Committee for the City of Vancouver. She has attended the Women’s Memorial March for many years and has taken responsibility for carrying the medicines at its front, after Rita Blind handed Point her medicine bundle.

“Land acknowledgements should always be done,” says Point. “It would be nice if whomever is stating the land acknowledgement would also ask attendees to keep in mind their First Nations hosts and remind them as visitors they should look after this place on Mother Earth, as they would their own mother.”  

Wendy Nahanee

Kwákwaýel Simia (Wendy Nahanee) is a Sḵwx̱wú7mesh Úxwumixw (Squamish Nation) matriarch who grew up in the village of Eslha7an in what we now call North Vancouver. Her mother grew up with perhaps eight or nine siblings in a mud house on the river in the Mission area.

Nahanee’s grandmother was a master cedar bark and root weaver. Nahanee recalls: ”I remember when I was little, and my grandmother would say, ‘Come and sit Wendy,’ and we’d be out in the yard, and she’d have all the roots and everything there, and her buckets of water, and she’d be weaving away. And you don’t know if you’re going to be sitting there for five minutes or five hours. We’d just sit there and she would tell stories or sing songs while she was weaving. It was just so magical.”

Nahanee has lived in urban Indigenous settings for the last two decades and works hard to uplift her neighbours in the Downtown Eastside. She says she’s been teaching the community about land acknowledgements for years.

Wendy Nahanee photo courtesy Facebook.

“When we talk about our territories, we’re encompassing our villages, our medicines, our foods, our ceremonies, our songs — that’s territory,” says Nahanee. “Let’s move from acknowledgement to honouring.” 

Nahanee often witnesses land acknowledgements being rushed because of a full day’s agenda.

“Let’s really take a minute to think about what the intention is for the land acknowledgement,” she says. 

“It’s more than a check mark on the attendees agenda.”

Nahanee wishes everyone would think about the territories they’re occupying, “and how you can honour them in a good way by being good stewards of the land and water, just like my ancestors were here in Squamish territories,” she says.  

Carleen Thomas

Carleen Thomas comes from the səl̓ilwətaɬ (Tsleil-Waututh) Nation in what is now North Vancouver. Tsleil-Waututh means “People of the Inlet,” reflecting her nation’s deep connection to the waters now known as Burrard Inlet. 

Thomas believes the intention of land acknowledgements is to help inform audiences of the place and the land they are gathered on.

“That this place means something to the Indigenous Peoples whose history is connected to the lands and waters here,” she says. 

“I’ve heard from some people that land acknowledgments have just become a box to tick on the ‘list of things to do for reconciliation,’ but I like to believe we can educate people when we practise our protocols with them,” says Thomas.

When she is asked to provide a land acknowledgement, she says she shares what she calls a “Protocol Welcome” and the teachings behind it.

Carleen Thomas photo via Emily Carr University of Art and Design, where Thomas is chancellor.

Thomas believes in meeting people where they’re at along the path of truth and reconciliation.

“We cannot force anyone to learn about our history,” she says. “We just have to keep sharing our teachings, our history and how we move forward within systems designed to assimilate, erase and change us.

“We build up allies that are willing to do the work, to walk side by side with us, to make the changes. I always share that when we do this work together, we cause ripples in the systems and these changes benefit the whole, not just Indigenous Peoples.”  

June is National Indigenous History Month in Canada. June 21 is National Indigenous Peoples Day.

Filed under: Cover Story

Stories of change are best when shared

From social media to texting to email, consider sharing links to the Megaphone stories that move you—so that we can all move forward.

Priscillia Mays Tait

Priscillia Mays Tait

Writer, Visual Storyteller

Priscillia Mays Tait is a proud Babine, Gitsxan, and mostly Wet'suwet'en mother, as well as a gifted writer, photographer, performer, artist, dancer and community activist. She has been a vendor with Megaphone for nearly 10 years, Her work has been published in Megaphone’s monthly magazine, annual Voices of the Street literary anthology and yearly Hope in Shadows calendar numerous times. Her frequent motto: Hug a tree.

What Sets our Newsroom Apart

Rooted in Vancouver’s Downtown Eastside, we're committed to amplifying voices that are overlooked by mainstream media. We’re actively growing our team of storytellers and journalists to serve our community.

More about our Peer Newsroom

“Why "The Shift?" So the framework of Megaphone magazine can “shift” to being a more inclusive street paper, empowering those with lived and living experience to tell the stories that matter the most to them and their communities.”

Paula Carlson Editorial and Program Director

Sign up for community news you can't get anywhere else

Subscribe

Support our work to change the story on poverty

Your donation directly amplifies marginalized voices and creates meaningful work opportunities for our vendors and storytellers.

Donate today