We have been asked by the Tla’amin leadership to change the name of our town.  I. W. Powell was part of BC’s provincial govt. that was responsible for residential schools and indigenous cultural suppression.   

However, in response to this ask some of us are offended.  Is this hard to understand?  Our names symbolize our identity.  No one I know relates to IW Powell, and until recently had no idea what he and his govt. did 130 years ago.   We’re proud of our name, PR because we’re proud of our culture.

Isn’t that similar to Tla’amin, proud of their culture too, as it reawakens and is recreated, powerful and proud?      Maybe this question about our name is a gift, to help us recognize the pride we have.   

First, it’s a recognition that we, descendants of immigrants, despite historical confusion about what Canadian identity is, do have culture.   Here in our community, I see it in respect we have for each other, in working together, cooperating, volunteering, giving in many ways into community.  This is what I was raised with, and what I’ve seen ever since in this community.    We have many practices to support our culture.   They range from music and fine arts to sports, and love of our beautiful home in nature.   Those practices come from many national, ethnic and religious roots, most going back millennia.   They are like a quilt of beautiful pieces all woven together in a unique pattern in this community.     And they are from many places on the earth, but they’re all from places on the Earth. 

We all love this place.   We are all attached to it.   Many of us were born here, and if we were born somewhere else, how far away is that really?   We are all of the earth and we have that in common. 

We do recognize that terrible things were experienced by indigenous people here over the past few generations, the recent past.   Wounds are still fresh, painful, disabling.   That is easy to understand in heart, in spite of being hard to grasp in mind.     And, we are not the ones who set in motion what came to abuse and injure, even kill our indigenous neighbors’ recent ancestors. 

That was then.   This is now.   We can argue about it but we can’t change history.    There may even have been good intentions involved back then.    What stands is that terrible things occurred here, in our provincial community, where we live now.   

So, what now?   Feel guilty?  Feel shame?    What use is that?    Shame causes and perpetuates damage, division, and isolation.    We can’t change history, but we can do something about it.  We can change the future by changing things in the present.  It just has to be for the right reason.   Not for guilt and shame.  

Whatever can divide us will divide us.    I think of the past two years.   There was division between us over agreement or not with public policy that was created to respond to a collective health threat.   Like it or not, agree with it or not, despite flaws, it was the best government could do at the time for our whole provincial community.  That’s all we’ve got, our best.   And as time goes on, we can do better.  We can learn by looking back, judging what worked and what didn’t.    Some things from the past are just not good enough, and some things are a lot worse than not good enough.   History, and our individual stories are full of those things.  Some of our own stories are as buried as our knowledge of IW Powell and his government’s work was until just recently.  Some are as painful and as damaging.    

We have much in common with each other and with the people of Tla’amin.   Simply to change the name of our town because it hurts them isn’t good enough for many of us.    The question is stuck in our craw.    Voting it out of existence will not change the past.    All we can do is change something now.    But what might that be?    Can we see it as an opportunity, and take it?  Can we own this?     How do we make it our own? 

I return to the culture of this community to answer that question.    First, we refuse to let it divide us.   We seek anything we have in common within our own community relating to this question.    Doesn’t the pride in community that drives some to seek a referendum come from a place in us very close to where the drive for others to seek a name change, because the association is hurtful to our friends of Tla’amin, comes from?  Both motivations come from caring, pride, love of our culture.   Can we reconcile that?    Can we agree to refuse to let it divide us?   Can we be stronger than anything that challenges us?

Is this not the only way forward?  A friend recently referred to Socratic dialogue.    He said it was to listen so openly as “to see the soul of you”.    This goes back to deep roots of western culture.    Can we do that with each other?   Listen so deeply that we see the soul of each other and because that’s most important, find ways to compromise what we might think should or shouldn’t be done to answer this question?    It can’t be un-asked.  

This is how we make it our own, how we take possession of it, use the opportunity, and work it to serve a greater good for our culture, for all cultures.  It will likely require a little compromise on all sides.   Our culture needs a little healing.  It has some shameful roots.  We can do that now, but it must be our work, for us, and for our culture.    And hopefully the result would be good for our indigenous neighbours too.   We’re all here now.    Us with our patchwork quilt of culture and Tla’amin with what’s been here for millennia.  Can we all work together for our collective future?   

As well, our work on this question could be just a first step into a future that promises greater challenges than this one.   We already see them looming, environmentally, economically, socially.   

Is this but a first step to much more we can do together?