Our culture is not a competition.

In my life I have had the privilege of getting to know many people from many places all over Turtle Island, Indigenous and non-Indigenous. I have heard so many stories of where folks come from and who raised them, their traumas and triumphs. I have never felt the need to challenge anyone regarding their journey; I was raised to respect that we are all different and that’s what makes us human.

As someone with mixed ancestry, like many folks I have met in Indigenous circles, I respect both our differences and our similarities. For us in Ktaqmkuk, our existence varies from community to community, or home to home. Each family dealt with their own forced assimilation in their own way. Being told they didn’t exist when Newfoundland joined confederation in 1949 left them to decide to either to hide in the shadows or to be punished for living their truth.

As people of what we now call Newfoundland, we are often referred to as resilient, not just the people but the vegetation, the wildlife and landscapes. It is an unforgiving place at times with our harsh weather and short growing seasons. We are rich in resources which is why we were one of the first points of European contact in North America, but for any settler, you weren’t likely to make it here without a good Indigenous guide.

My grandfather, Pearce, would be 107 years old today. He was a very stubborn man. Resilient, perhaps, but most definitely stubborn. In 1945, before Canada took us on as the last province, like other stubborn Mi’kmaq folks on the island, his father James, identified himself honestly as an “Indian”. In a time when we were the Dominion of Newfoundland, this was to no one’s advantage. My grandfather also refused his veteran’s pension because they did not accurately acknowledge which ship he worked on. Years later we found a handwritten letter from my grandmother, Sadie, pleading with Veterans Affairs to excuse my grandfather’s stubbornness as she had many mouths to feed. Despite the hardships that it caused his family to endure, he wasn’t going to deny his truth.

It couldn’t have been easy for her, for any of them. Many families were deeply traumatized by the denial of their Indigeneity. Priests were baptizing children as “child of savage”, jobs were exclusive to non-Indigenous people, folks were not living on reserves. If the existence of the 4 mapped reserves on the island or the Peace and Friendship Treaty that was signed on Codroy Island was acknowledged by the government they’d be responsible for us. Instead, folks were moved to places like Crow Gulch and other areas to keep people out of sight and mind.

Assimilation looks different in different cultures across the world, but the one thing we all have in common is the harm it’s caused. For us, the Indian Act has both hurt and helped us. We want to burn it, but it’s the individuals that twist the meaning of the act that harms us.

Our recognition as Status Indians was a triumph but also a curse and a further means of trauma for many. It has afforded opportunities for reconciliation but has caused community division. Why should the government get to decide who we are?

This path that we are on is one my grandfather could not have imagined in his lifetime, but like many of you, I’m walking this path with my head held high to honour the sacrifices of those that came before us. I will not deny any part of my heritage for anyone’s comfort. We are done with that. My experience may not look like yours, but it is my experience, and no one has the right to judge others.

If you cannot find your connection, if you do not know who you are and where you come from, you can respectfully find your way but always proceed with caution. Be mindful of the space you take and ensure it’s the path your ancestors paved for you. The government of what we know now as Canada has long determined our fates. There will never be enough Land Acknowledgments to heal the harm that has caused, but we can support each other with respect and love. We can protect spaces from exploitation, not by calling people out when we don’t know their stories, but by being strong and confident in our own histories. Those that do not belong will eventually expose themselves. Our focus needs to be on building, not wasting time in tearing down.

As your Chief, I will ask you all to be accountable to who you say you are. If you carry a status card or identify as Indigenous, you must do that with absolute confidence. Understand the responsibility attached to your heritage. Invest in your community, do not tear it down. Understand your history and honour it. Your family line resulted in that privilege and as much as it is a double-edged sword, you have an opportunity your ancestors did not, to be proud and to live out loud. We were hidden in shame too long; we are Mi’kmaq people of Mi’kmak’mi. We are not looking for approval from those trolling the internet, we only have ourselves to answer to. I go to bed each night knowing my Niskamij and Nukumij would be proud, that my parents and children are proud, and that is enough for me.

It’s time to build.

Though winter weather is going strong, we do not stay inside. Our recent Winter Gatherings in Corner Brook and Glenwood reminded us of who we are as Mi’kmaq people and the power of our connection to the land. It was freezing outside, but my heart was warm at the sight of so many smiles.

We came together to learn, teach, and celebrate. From drumming and dancing to food sharing and hunting knowledge, every moment reflected the wisdom of our ancestors and the enduring strength of our people. I was grateful not only to witness but also to take part with the community—helping prepare lusknikn (bannock), singing, and, of course, playing bingo.

One of the most meaningful aspects of these gatherings was the presence of our youth. When we pass down our knowledge—through words, songs, or sharing food—we ensure that Mi’kmaq identity remains strong. Regardless of how others view us, we cannot turn our backs on our ancestors. We must empower our youth to reclaim space and be proud of where they come from. It is our right and responsibility to foster their knowledge and provide them with opportunities we never had.

I want to express my heartfelt gratitude to all those who contributed to making these gatherings a success, as well as to those who continuously support and nurture our culture. Whether you are an organizer, an Elder, a Knowledge Keeper, a member of a drumming group, or someone who actively engages in preserving and sharing our traditions, your efforts are essential. It is through your dedication that our culture remains vibrant and continues to thrive.

As we move from season to season, let us support one another, share what we know, and celebrate the resilience of our community. I look forward to seeing more of these gatherings and hope to see our youth grow into confident leaders who will carry us into a bright future.