Part Three: From Reconciliation to Relationship
Ten years is a long time in the life of a child. In ten years, a baby grows into someone who can walk, run, and speak their own truths. Ten years brings scraped knees, first friendships, heartbreaks, and the weight of responsibility. Their moccasins grow larger, their shoes heavier. They learn that each step matters because their steps leave tracks.
Ten years have also passed since the Truth and Reconciliation Commission gave us its Final Report and the 94 Calls to Action. Like a child, Canada has grown in some ways. More people now know the truth of the schools that stole children away. Orange shirts appear every September. Words like “land back” and “treaty” echo in places they were once silenced: and Indigenous renaissance and a national coming of age.
And yet, ten years on, we must ask: have we truly grown, or are we still standing at the edge of the playground, unsure how to take the next step?
Reconciliation is not meant to stay small. It is not meant to be a child forever. It is meant to grow, to stretch, to stumble, to learn, and ultimately, to love. Like a young person coming of age, reconciliation must mature into relationship.
I think of the natural world, which has always been my teacher. Rivers begin as trickles, playful and light, but with time they deepen, carving valleys, carrying entire landscapes with them. Storms, too, mature — lightning giving way to clear skies that nourish the land. Seasons teach us that nothing stands still. Growth is the law of life. Reconciliation is no different. It cannot remain an idea, a phrase, a box ticked on a form. It must flow, deepen, change us, and bring us back to balance.
For Indigenous people, reconciliation has never been abstract. It is carried in our DNA, in the silence of those who never came home, in the aching absence of languages and songs. We carry the pain because we must. And yet, we also carry the medicine — the love that kept us alive, the ceremonies that remind us who we are, the Elders who sit patiently and show us another way.
Ten years in, reconciliation asks not only for remembrance but for responsibility. The moccasins no longer fit. The shoes are heavier now. To wear them means accepting that we cannot remain innocent. We know too much. The unmarked graves continue to be uncovered. The stories continue to be told. We cannot unknow them. The question is not whether we will act — it is whether we will love ourselves enough to act with integrity.
Relationship is the next step. Relationship with ourselves, first of all. If we do not reconcile with who we are, we cannot show up for anyone else. That is what I have learned in my own journey: that self-love is the foundation for every other kind of love. It is what allows us to look at the pain without being destroyed by it, to walk the harder path without losing our way.
Relationship also means turning to one another — Indigenous and non-Indigenous — not as strangers, not as opponents, but as relatives. It means walking side by side, stumbling together, rising together, carrying the load together. It means listening not only with our ears but with our hearts, letting the truth change us instead of letting it sit on a shelf.
Ten years is long enough to know what is required. The child has grown. The shoes are heavy, yes, but they are ours. If we refuse to wear them, if we shrink back into the comfort of smaller steps, we will betray not only the children of the past but also the children of today. Those who were in kindergarten when the TRC report was released are in high school now. They are watching us. They will not accept half-steps. They will not accept words without love behind them.
We stand at the threshold of something harder, something truer. Reconciliation has carried us this far. Relationship must carry us the rest of the way. It is time to choose — to step into shoes that may blister us, to walk paths that may exhaust us, to carry love so deeply that it remakes us.
When I was a child, my father told me: “You are Indian, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.” At the time, I did not understand the weight of those words. Now I do. They were not just about identity. They were about responsibility. To know who you are is to carry it. To love who you are is to live it.
Ten years on, that is the invitation before all of us: to remember who we are, to love ourselves enough to act from that truth, and to walk into relationship with one another, no matter how heavy the shoes may feel. That is how we grow. That is how we heal. That is how we love.
Ten years, the child has grown.
The moccasins no longer fit;
the shoes are heavy, but ours to wear.
Ancestors walk beside us still,
their whispers rising in wind and drum.
Reconciliation is the seed breaking soil,
relationship the harvest we await.
To love ourselves is to free each other.
The steps are harder,
but they are leading us home.
(We Keep Walking, 2025, Jody Harbour)
Presented by Samantha Doxtater
Presented by GRANDMA RENEE
In a world seeking direction, Indigenous teachings offer clear and enduring policies for how to live in harmony with one another and the Earth. This workshop invites participants to explore the profound lessons of the Two Row Wampum Belt and other wampum belts as frameworks for mutual respect, environmental care, and collective well-being. These belts, created long before colonization, embody ancestral agreements that guide humanity on how to coexist with honor, dignity, and reciprocity.
Led by Grandmother Renee, this session emphasizes the importance of relearning and honoring the policies established by our ancestors, rather than creating new paths disconnected from this wisdom. Through the teachings of the belts, participants will uncover the principles of self-care, stewardship of the land, and respect for all beings. This is not about inventing something new—it is about rediscovering the instructions that were always there and committing to uphold them.
Key Takeaways:
Through this workshop, participants will be reminded that the wisdom of the belts is not only a guide for Indigenous communities but a path for all of humanity to walk together in respect and care for one another and the Earth.
Presented by Grandma Gail and Angela DeMontigny
Ceremony is more than tradition—it is a deliberate practice rooted in wisdom, responsibility, and foresight. This workshop explores the “science of ceremony” as a guide to living with intention and accountability for the next seven generations. Our ancestors used ceremony to prepare for the future, ensuring that their actions would benefit not only their own time but also those yet to come. Now, it is our responsibility to carry that practice forward.
Led by Grandmother Gail, this session will examine what has been lost and the actions we must take to restore, respect, and reclaim the ceremonial practices that ensure the well-being of future generations. Participants will be encouraged to reconnect with ceremony as a means of healing, reflection, and renewal, building a foundation of responsibility to guide us in restoring balance and harmony.
Key Takeaways:
Through this workshop, participants will rediscover the transformative power of ceremony as a pathway to healing, accountability, and preparation for a sustainable and harmonious future. Together, we will reaffirm our responsibility to the generations to come.
Presented by Asha Frost
Join Asha Frost, an Indigenous healer, teacher, and bestselling author, for a transformative workshop rooted in traditional teachings and the power of self-discovery. Asha’s work often centers on reconnecting with ancestral wisdom, embracing one’s authentic self, and creating pathways for healing and empowerment. Drawing from her Anishinaabe roots, she weaves stories, teachings, and practical tools to inspire participants to reclaim their power and align with their purpose.
Through her signature blend of traditional healing practices and modern insights, Asha guides participants in understanding how to honor their own journey, navigate challenges with resilience, and embrace the interconnectedness of all beings. This workshop is an invitation to explore the sacred within and around us, fostering personal growth and collective transformation.
Key Takeaways:
Whether you are seeking personal healing, professional inspiration, or a deeper connection to traditional wisdom, this session with Asha Frost promises to be a profound and enriching experience.
Presented by Allen Sutherland
The Seven Fires prophecy, as shared by seven prophets across different time periods, offers profound guidance for humanity’s path forward. According to Anishinaabe oral tradition, these teachings speak to the choices we face when the world has been polluted, and the waters turned bitter by disrespect. The prophecy teaches that humanity must choose between materialism and spirituality—one path leading to survival and the other to destruction.
In this workshop, Mishoomis Allen will guide participants through the teachings of the Seven Fires prophecy, exploring its relevance in today’s world and its call for spiritual renewal. Additionally, he will share his Canadian Indigenous Historical Timeline, providing a broader context for understanding the cultural, social, and spiritual significance of these teachings.
Key Takeaways:
This workshop offers an opportunity to reflect deeply on humanity’s collective responsibility and the transformative power of choosing a spiritual path for the survival of future generations.
Presented by Thohahoken Michael Doxtater
In this session, Thohahoken Michael Doxtater explores the ongoing impact of Canada’s colonial policies on Indigenous communities and the historical journey toward Truth and Reconciliation. He examines the systemic attempts to erase Indigenous identity, from residential schools to the suppression of cultural practices, and highlights Indigenous resilience and legal resistance. The presentation also delves into the concept of the “Canada Rafter,” a historical agreement acknowledging Canada’s adoption into the Indigenous Longhouse, raising the question: Has Canada truly upheld its responsibilities in this relationship?
