Inspiration – Chief Willie Sellars
For Chief Willie Sellars, making an effort matters – even if that effort doesn’t result in immediate success. He tells a story of attending a meeting where a school superintendent was introducing someone.
“He used the Indigenous language of that territory, and he butchered it. I remember thinking in my head, ‘Wow, great effort.’ And you know, we've all been there. I've been there. You're intimidated to have that discussion, to go out on a limb and say those words—but you're brave enough to do it.
Chief Willie Sellars and Karen Restoule at the 2023 Indigenous Partnerships Success Showcase.
“He was chastised for probably five minutes about how he didn't say it correctly, how he didn't say it right. And I remember thinking … ’Wow, there is no way that’s the approach we should be taking for individuals who are putting in the effort to be better.’ We need to hold those individuals up for putting that effort in and participating in that reconciliation education.”
Sellars knows about effort, and about success. Hailing from the Williams Lake First Nation, part of the Secwepemc Nation, in BC’s northern interior, Sellars was elected as a Councillor in 2008, at the age of 24. In 2018, he was elected Chief.
In the spring of 2023, the Williams Lake First Nation was recognized with an Economic Reconciliation Award from the BC Economic Development Association for their cannabis cultivation company Sugar Cane Cannabis. It is one of several Nation-owned businesses, which include Unity Cannabis, a retail brand with a flagship store in Williams Lake, and additional stores in Lac La Hache, Merritt, and Penticton.
“We have some crazy success stories in Williams Lake,” says Sellars. “We did over $20 million in development in Williams Lake over the past two years. We are the biggest developer in this rural community.”
The Nation has over 90 staff, nearly half of them funded through the Nation’s own source revenue. “Not only are we building things and renovating things and building houses in the community with our success, but we are also staffing up more of our members.”
For Sellars, the Nation’s ability to pursue opportunities is important. He tells of a $50 million project on Highway 97 south of Williams Lake that started in 2016. Working with the Province of British Columbia, “we were able to realize an opportunities plan. And we've seen over $2 million in wages go to band members on the life of that project. Life-changing money—people driving brand new trucks, building new homes. Skills that were transferrable to the local mines, to other careers.”
In the spring of 2023, a $366 million hospital project began construction in the community.
“That's a once in a generation project for our region, for our community. We are engaging with Interior Health, the Province of British Columbia and Graham, and coming to identify opportunities that we can realize during that project. The last thing we want to do is roadblock something like that happening in our territory, because we know the economic significance of what that project will do for a region. Not only the economics of the construction, but [also] looking at how we can then do a better job at recruiting professionals to our community in rural British Columbia.
“The legacy of these big projects are something that we want to promote. But we have to be involved, which means we have to be engaged early and often, which we're starting to see proponents be a little bit more proactive in.”
Sellars says that historically the opportunities from the region’s resource-based economy, which includes mining and forestry, did not flow back into the First Nations communities. He notes that one result of such past injustices is that First Nations can be “quick to turn to conflict when we're not involved in projects. We're quick to turn to conflict when we start being challenged as Indigenous governments and Indigenous communities. And that has been the norm for the past 20, 30 years.”
These days, the relationship between the Nation and the government and industry is significantly improved.
“As the governments start to acknowledge and hold up this reconciliation discussion, hold up and build this relationship with Indigenous communities across this country, we're starting to see progress. And progress is good.
“This reconciliation discussion—economic reconciliation—has really changed a lot of the way that we look at industry in our territories nowadays. And it has been an uphill battle for us over the last five years, over the last 10 years. But what we're seeing is progress. Now we're realizing those opportunities are staying in house. We're seeing success stories with our youth, with our membership, and creating careers, whether they're at Mount Poly or whether they're at Enbridge or whether they're with Gibraltar or whether they're in cannabis.”
“You know, where we were two years ago, where we were five years ago, where we were 10 years ago, is light years ahead of where we have been the last 50 years. And that's something that we need to acknowledge.”
The revenue streams being created by various opportunities have also allowed the Nation to put money into language, culture, and ceremony revitalization. They have invested almost $500,000 into their improving their pow wow arbor, putting in a new dance surface, new roof, new sound system, and gravel access.
Drawing Change Illustration by Erica Bota.
Sellars says that they are often asked whether non-Indigenous people are allowed to attend their pow wow, which is held annually on Father’s Day weekend.
“One of the things that we continue to say is that you are more than welcome to come. We want you to come. Our vendors want you to come. You know, you see the bead work and you see the hand work that is happening in the revitalization with our artisans in our communities. It's an entire economy that we need to support because that is a part of reconciliation, economic reconciliation, that culture revitalization piece of healing …”
The Nation has also been collaborating with School District 27 of the Caribou Regional District on how to incorporate more Indigenous culture and education into the public school system.
“That's just something that we need to do a better job of from the top down. But it's also something we need to do a better job as an Indigenous community. We need to participate in those discussions, and we need to participate in that educational journey.”
Over the years, Sellars has been on his own personal healing and educational journey. He grew up with his non-Indigenous mother, and though they lived on the Sugar Cane reserve, his exposure to his Nation’s culture and traditions was limited.
“It was tough not learning your language or learning your culture or learning ceremony as a young child. Not having it as a part of your being and your upbringing.”
Sellars’ dad was mostly absent.
“There was a lot of animosity that I held towards him, and my sisters held towards him, growing up, because he was never around. But when you start hearing the history of his upbringing and, and how he was raised, you start to realize how we need to invest that time as the current generation to break that cycle … My dad was a product of the St. Joseph's Mission, the residential school located in Williams Lake region, which was six kilometers from our community core. His mom went to that school. And really, the legacy of that school still lives in our worlds, we're one generation removed from that in my family.”
Sellars says nowadays his dad is one of his best friends. In honor of the father-son relationship, he has published two children’s books: Hockey with Dad, and Dipnetting with Dad, which won a Moonbeam Children’s Book Award.
“Fishing is something that I hold very near and dear to my heart. It is a big part of my healing, in the way that I was able to find myself as an Indigenous person.”
In recent years, he has also started traditional dancing.
“I never danced before. I was always too intimidated and too scared, and I didn't want to mess up and I didn't want to do it wrong. But I knew that to be that inspiration, to be that change, to practice what I preach, to hold up what the elders want to see, then I needed to participate in something significant like this.”
He spent a couple of years building his regalia, and then signed up to dance at his first powwow in 2022.
“I go out onto the dance floor at Kamloopa and there's 2,500 plus people in the stands. It was one of the most overwhelming experiences I've ever been a part of. And that's saying a lot because I've put myself into some situations over the years.”
Afterwards, when he was walking back to his vehicle, an elder stopped him.
“I don't even know who the elder was. He grabbed me and he shook my hand, and he thanked me for being out there. And he was so proud. And I said, ‘Oh, thank you so much. I was really struggling out there. It was really tough for me ‘cause I don't really know what I'm doing.’ And he grabbed my hand even firmer. And he said it was a really good lesson for me. He said, ‘What you are doing out there with those other dancers, is you're healing all of us.’ And he pointed to the whole grandstand, and he said, ‘Just keep doing what you're doing.’
“Then he said, ‘And don't worry about your moves or how you're feeling, because it's how you're feeling in here.’ And in that moment, he uplifted me and reinforced in me that I was doing the right thing.
“That's what we need to be doing to all of ourselves as we go down this reconciliation journey. Holding up the success stories that we're seeing through economic reconciliation—which is what this conference is all about—and learning from each other and not discouraging each other to learn.”
Sponsored by Enbridge.