Three women from the Kitasoo Xai’xais First Nation — located in the heart of what has become known as the ‘Great Bear Rainforest,’ one of the largest temperate rainforests on Earth — have been working the majority of their lives towards protecting and preserving their homelands for future generations.
The Kitasoo Xai’xais First Nation has been a unique example of how to transition towards a conservation-based economy on the coast. Over the last decade, the Nation has created jobs through the Spirit Bear Lodge and associated ecotourism experiences, invested in their youth, creating opportunities for them to be out on their lands and waters, and launched the first-of-its-kind marine protected area to protect crucial habitat. Three women working in the stewardship department, Heather Robinson, Sierra Hall and Santana Edgar, have seen the impacts of this intentional transition throughout their lifetimes and are now in positions to strengthen the work and inspire the next generation to take up the call.
Heather Robinson, born and raised in her village of Klemtu, is a seasoned bear guide for the Spirit Bear Lodge. The lodge is one moving piece of a larger shift the Nation’s been making over the last decade to provide employment to the community, while strengthening a conservation-based economy. Before becoming a bear guide, bringing visitors into her territory to see the rare and beloved white Spirit bear, also known as a Kermode bear, and other wildlife wonders, Heather worked as a teacher’s assistant for children ages two to five years old.
“It’s funny because you can really integrate the experience working with children with working with bears,” she laughs, sitting in the Stewardship Office in Klemtu. “You watch children wrestle and fight and have to stop them at some point. But when you’re working with bears, you can just sit there, watch them play and wrestle in the same way. You can talk to a bear the same way you talk to a child… I really found my role at the lodge.”
Once bear viewing and guiding season starts (August to early October), Heather’s favourite time of the year, her routine looks pretty much the same everyday. She’s out the door before 7am, prepping the boats and getting gear sorted before the guests come down for breakfast. She makes sure people have everything they need for the day, lunches are packed and the group is at the dock to depart at 8am, sharp.
Most destinations take no more than an hour, Heather explains, with stops along the way to view her ancestors’ rock paintings, or watch eagles, whales or other visitors. The guides bring the guests to shore, where they spend most of their time on land, following marked trails, and eventually hunkering down to see what magic the day has in store. They do more sight seeing on the way back to the lodge and dock just before 6pm. While other touring and guiding companies operate across the coast, experiences with locals are different, Heather says, due to the intergenerational and deep cultural knowledge shared.
“People come from all over the world to experience our homelands,” she says. “Our tours are intimate, because we walk in our ancestors’ old village sites. We explain the native flora and fauna, the intertidal areas, fish traps, harvesting areas, and our cultural interpretations of it all.”
‘Bears are family to me’
Heather says it’s critical to understand how to do her work sustainably. She’s protective of the wellbeing of her homelands, habitat everything relies on to live, and the Spirit Bears.
“Our bears are family to me,” she says. “There can be an influx of visitors throughout the summer and fall — boats and boats and boats, and people need to understand where to go and where not to go, how to respect the wildlife and not trample on our estuaries… We’re Guardians too, in a way.”
When working with guests, Heather says she tries to explain how to be mindful and respectful, telling them to treat the bears like they would treat their own family. Seeing a Spirit Bear is a rare and prized experience. For the Kitasoo Xai’xais people, bears are relatives, Heather explains, and coming across one isn’t an experience her people take for granted.
“Before working at the lodge, I only saw Spirit Bears twice in my life… We come from a community of about 200-300 people. I know of an Elder who said the last time she saw one she was just a little girl… it’s rare that not even our own people have seen one,” Heather says. “We try to explain to the guests how rare it is to see one… sometimes we don’t. Over the past few years, they’ve been like the ghost of the rainforest, harder to find.”
Over the years, Heather has seen a fair share of Spirit Bears, some she has gotten to know more than others. But like many places, it’s gotten hotter across the coast in certain seasons, and she worries about the bears and the salmon they rely on.
“Winds are stronger and we get more floods in September and October, lots of rain, to the point our estuaries and rivers have changed and this confuses the bears who feed on the stuff that’s stuck in the tree snags and things… big rain washes a lot of fish into the tree lines and sometimes the bears are digging for eggs that got pushed out of the river,” she says. “One river system we called our ‘honey hole,’ there was always a bear there. But there’s no fish there now, so this one bear moved, which was sad, because we watched that bear grow up.”
Heather says they haven’t seen that honey-hole bear for a few years now. But there are others that seem to recognize her when she’s around and come out to hang. She’s excited because more of her people are joining the team and starting to get interested in guiding.
“We take pride in what we’re doing. This is our home. Nobody knows their territory better than the locals, the people born and raised on the water, spend their lives on the water…it’s exciting having our people out there with us.”
Everything she does, she says, is for the youth.
“We’re trying to keep this all alive for them. Our little community is growing more and more, it’s getting busy around here, and I’m happy there are more job opportunities for people. When we’re out there, we make sure everything is going smoothly, we make sure everything is protected.”
‘Stewardship has transformed our community’
Sierra Hall works in stewardship for her community in a leadership supervisor role. She started working with the department in 2013, as a student for the land-based youth SEAS program where she spent time out on her lands and waters. Sierra says this time shaped her future and prepared her for the work she does today.
“It’s so important for us to preserve our lands and waters for our youth and future generations. It gives us a sense of identity of who we are, from Klemtu, and as First Nations people. All of the things my community survives on — our traditional foods and medicines — remain strong,” Sierra says. “Like any culture, once that gets impacted or taken away, the wellbeing and health of the community goes south fast.”
Sierra says there are countless programs and projects to support and get involved with in stewardship, but it’s something people have to be passionate about and have a heart for.
“There’s a certain level of understanding and respect we have to work here… respect for the lands, waters, wildlife and each other… that’s what keeps stewardship so strong, valuable and pure. The growth in stewardship has transformed my little community.”
Sierra currently runs the wildlife coexistence program where she educates her community on wildlife safety. She also supports the catch monitoring program, doing dock-side surveys, recording catches and doing genetic testing on fin clips. She worked years collecting data, she says, but in her role today, she has come to appreciate and understand the importance of how the data not only educates her people and others, but also informs important resource management decisions on all levels. Sierra says she holds her hands up to past and present leadership, naming Chief Councillor Doug Neasloss for investing in stewardship and helping the department grow from a handful of employees working out of the band office to a team of 40-50 people.
“I’ve been privileged to witness Doug and other leaders lead the community to where it is today. He’s been willing to fight battles not a lot of other communities would… no matter how small we are, he’s willing to stand up for what we believe in and be as loud as possible,” she says. “That teaches the youth how powerful our voices are… that we make an impact on the world… it certainly changed my perspective on how I want to be a part of this community.”
Sierra says the focus on educating and empowering youth impacts entire families.
‘This work is a generational responsibility’
Santana Edgar, whose traditional name Milas’ means “to serve my people,” has been working in stewardship for over 11 years, in almost every department. She started as a field tech, doing research work, spent four years in admin, as the director’s assistant, and now she’s the marine planning coordinator with a team she says has “grown beautifully over the last few years.”
“This work is an amazing generational responsibility. It’s not work, it’s not a job, it’s what we were raised to do,” Santana says. “Everything we have now, we have because our grandparents worked hard to preserve it for us. It’s up to us to step up now and be doing that for the next generation. I have kids of my own, so they’re what push me to do everything I can to protect what we have.”
When Santana first started working in stewardship, with the Indigenous research project, she combed through all of the Nation’s historical documents, specifically around marine and land-use planning. They were a small team back then, working in the basement of the band office. It’s been powerful, she says, to be a part of this big shift towards supporting a conservation-based economy in her community and see how many people have gotten involved, echoing both her colleagues Heather and Sierra in emphasizing the importance of youth.
“This is our home, this is their home. This is their land, these are their waters, and it will be up to them at some point to continue the work that we’re doing today. It’s been amazing to recruit more people, because I know their strengths, I see them in community and know what they do and know that they care. I love reminding people how powerful they are… the magic they hold and all of us hold. I just want to encourage everyone to help make a difference.”
With that goal in mind, the department started a youth ambassador program. Some previous participants are currently working as Guardian Watchmen, another program that the Kitasoo Xai’xais Nation has heavily invested in to uphold ancestral responsibilities through modern means.
Santana stresses the importance of bringing outsiders or allies to their homelands, to experience the power and beauty themselves. Her love for her lands and waters drives the work she and her colleagues do to protect and preserve them for generations to come.
“My love for my lands and waters stems from my physical connection to them. When I’m having a hard time, if I’m struggling or feeling overwhelmed… I’ll go stand barefoot in the water or in the yard, and just feel everything… it’s really grounding,” she says. “I’d love for more people to do that. Energy is everything and you feel it all when you do get out there barefoot or go to the ocean… I go often — she heals me.”
Santana’s own love for her home has inspired her to do the work she’s in today. She’d love to see more people get involved, she says, as the future of her community depends on it. But part of encouraging others to take up their responsibilities involves educating them on the moves being made at all levels, like the work to create marine protected areas focused on preserving critical habitat.
“People think protected areas are meant to close everything down, but that’s not it. We’re trying to protect valuable habitats where species are foraging and nursing. We need to shut things down for species to grow and thrive,” she says. “I see us moving towards an amazingly sustainable way of fishing. We can be whole communities again, if we’re not worrying about our resources being depleted. I’m excited to see some of the numbers our grandparents talked about seeing before.”
“This is our livelihood, it’s our life and existence. It’s not going to be here without our work,” Santana says.
