By Gilles Cyrenne, Local Journalism Initiative Reporter
When Indigenous peoples say “All My Relations,” they affirm an interconnectedness that includes humans, animals, plants and the natural world — and extends to the spiritual realm. The phrase reflects respect, responsibility and harmony within this web of relationships, linking us to the land, rivers, lakes, oceans and the cycles of water that sustain all life.
This worldview — where connection shapes all relationships — stands in sharp contrast to the capitalist, colonial model, where the “rational economic man” acts in pure self-interest to maximize personal or financial gain. It’s a cultural system rooted in individualism, and one that continues to dominate society.
When I see myself as part of the land, related to all of nature, I begin to understand that extracting resources from Earth for profit is like taking the breath from my own lungs. For me, reconciliation starts with that shift — reshaping my own worldview — by moving away from entitlement and ownership toward kinship and responsibility.
In her book, The Serviceberry: Abundance and Reciprocity in the Natural World, Robin Wall Kimmerer, author or Braiding Sweetgrass, outlines how “the whole enterprise of dispossession and assimilation of the original people was designed to eradicate the notion of land as a source of belonging and to replace it with the idea that land is nothing more than a source of belongings. This required a narrowing of the definition of well-being, from common wealth to individual wealth, from abundance to shock, scarcity, and collapse.” In other words, colonization didn’t just seize land — it reshaped the very meaning of prosperity, replacing a collective sense of care and sufficiency with a mindset of ownership and competition.
A striking example of this mindset today comes from Elon Musk, the world’s richest man, who said that “empathy is the fundamental weakness of Western civilization.”
Meanwhile, some of the wealthiest oil and tech billionaires are preparing for disaster. For example, Mark Zuckerberg is building a 5,000-sq.-ft. underground bunker in Hawaii as a private personal safe haven.
In an article published in The Guardian, Naomi Klein and Astra Taylor suggest how, in the U.S., “the governing ideology of the far right has become a monstrous supremacist survivalism,” ruled by what Steve Bannon describes as “technofeudalists”.
The world’s most powerful office is controlled by a belief system that is deeply divisive and power hungry, undermining the interconnected web of relationships that connects us to the wonder and beauty of the world.
Indigenous economics provides us with a sharp contrast to this chronically constipated political economy. Wall Kimmerer writes that “… we humans lean as much toward cooperation and generosity when we are not coerced by outside forces.”
For example, whenever there are disasters — fires, floods, earthquakes — humans flock to help each other, sometimes before government help shows up. Hours are spent volunteering, no questions asked. Small exchange libraries are showing up with free books and other goods in many communities. Libraries are an example of gift economies at work, though they are taxpayer supported. It feels to me that all of life has entered a state of emergency and that more than ever before, we all need to show up to correct the course of our social and economic evolution.
Possibly we can look to nature for some direction.
Serviceberries (saskatoons) embody nature’s system of reciprocity, thriving on the free gifts of soil, sun, water and air, writes Wall Kimmerer. Their abundant flowers and berries feed us, the bees and birds. In return, bees fertilize the trees, and birds disperse the seeds. This creates a natural economy — an exchange of goods and services that redistributes wealth. In Indigenous economies, food is first shared among neighbours, aunties and cousins before reaching the pantry. Success is measured by community well-being and health, where the thriving of “we” matters more than the gain of “I.”
We need protocols that return us to a harmonious relationship with the natural world of which we are a part. Our assumed dominance over nature is entirely delusional and now bites back.
As a non-Indigenous person, reconciliation for me means more than just acknowledging the people on whose territory I enjoy my life. I must work to create — in my community and in the world — a story that honours the sacred interconnectedness with each other and with nature that sustains us all. Reciprocity means every morning greeting the cedar outside my door as my sister, and thanking it for my breath.
What reconciliation means to Megaphone vendor Aileen Wong as non-Indigenous person
Indigenous Elders have helped Aileen Wong, a Megaphone vendor, move forward along her path of healing and spiritual awakening, and from them she has come to understand that addiction is often the result of traumatic experiences. She has learned that tears are a sacred part of spiritual cleansing, and how different races are represented by the colours of the medicine wheel.
Aileen says she has been given the opportunity to harvest sweetgrass and make it into a bracelet, which brings beneficial effects when she wears it.
“For me, truth and reconciliation means moving from the horrific past of Indigenous genocide to a future in which everyone is spiritually united, and the whole world is healed,” she says.
What reconciliation means to Megaphone vendor and Shift writer Jules Chapman as a non-Indigenous person
Jules Chapman was born and raised in Vancouver, and is a member of The Shift peer newsroom and a vendor at Megaphone. She also works for Vancouver Coastal Health.
“Truth and reconciliation to me means not forgetting the atrocities that have been done to Indigenous Peoples, and also acknowledging that it is still an issue to this day,” Jules says. “They need to deal with the issues that are still going on.”
Jules believes that truth and reconciliation means not only moving forward from the past, but addressing systemic challenges such as racism, poverty and intergenerational trauma that are still impacting people today.
With files by Priscillia Mays Tait.
This article first appeared in Megaphone Magazine.
