COP 15 – What Does the Land Say?
February 8, 2023
By Chloe Dragon Smith and Robert Grandjambe
Situating Ourselves
The last screw winds its way into the plywood, a sturdy cover for our trapping supply shed that will keep it safe for two weeks away. With the houses boarded and locked, a half-burnt log smoulders down on the fire. The dogs are packed in the vehicle along with everything we own that shouldn’t freeze; sauces, pickles, vegetables, batteries, medication, and cleaning supplies.
Traps are set for the tiny mousey invaders that inevitably move in the minute we leave. An offering on the riverbank must be enough to keep our space safe while we are away, a prayer promising return to the community that we build every day. The trees, the animals, the water – we change and grow with them every day. As we board up our little home, we feel the heartfelt regret that can only be likened to leaving behind family.
Our little home couldn’t be further from the bustle of Montreal. We live in Wood Buffalo National Park, between the towns of Fort Smith, NWT and Fort Chipewyan, AB. As two young northern Indigenous people, we are working hard to build a life that rehabilitates our ancestral ways, knowledge, and systems. Parks Canada began managing this area for conservation in 1922, at a time where it was common to find families making their lives on the Land. Today, 100 years later, we are the only ones left.
Chloe Dragon Smith and Robert Grandjambe created Beb(a)ski – for the Land consulting and services. They live on the Land in Wood Buffalo National Park. Over the past 10 years, they have both been a part of various conservation organizations and initiatives. Chloe remains on the national board for the Nature Conservancy of Canada, and she was part of the Pathway to Canada Target 1 as a member of the National Advisory Panel. She has worked in partnership with the Canadian Parks Council and Parks Canada on different projects. Robert sat on the board of the Alberta Conservation Association, and the Fur Institute of Canada. He has been a trapper since the age of 6.
We were generously supported to attend COP15 by the Conservation through Reconciliation Partnership and the University of Guelph. Although leaving our camp is not easy, we welcomed the opportunity. The global issues of biodiversity loss and climate change impact our lives intimately. We worry daily about the changes we see in our home, and our ability to remain on the Land and survive in a healthy way.
The well-being of our territory means everything to us. Each time we commit to a conservation event, we get a window into a world that is affecting our lives here. Outside the reality of our community of Land, animals, life, and love, there is a whole other world of conferences, events, networking, and decision-making that has its own orbit.
‘The conservation world’ results in outcomes that ultimately trickle down to affect us. With our combined experiences at national, provincial, and organizational tables, we see a separation between the conservation world and the Land clearer than ever. This separation presents an alarming irony.
The irony is this: Living in relationship with the Land every day has given us much deeper wisdom and understanding of what the Land needs. However, in order to be out on the Land like we are, there is sacrifice. As we gain this wisdom and understanding, we proportionately lose our ability to contribute to the decision-making that happens at events like COP and the many others that drive conservation outcomes. Let’s unpack that a bit.
Natural Laws and Conservation
Note: the following is based off the article As far as time can tell, we were trappers written by Chloe, published in McGill University’s Rooted Law Journal.
Living on the Land gives us daily teachings from an important rule book. The circular pattern of petals on a wild rose, the sweet taste of a moose in July, the way a foot sinks into crystal snow, or the way a wolf acts when on the chase – these are natural laws. We understand natural law to be the way the Land works when under its own rules, self-determined, and with its own agency. These are the laws all beings lived by before colonization.
When taken together as a whole, natural laws give us much more than observational science. They teach us our roles, responsibilities, and how to make decisions that work with the system. How to coexist in peace and balance and live every day.
The thing about natural law that makes it so important, is that it is always operating – whether we choose to acknowledge it or not. This has proven to be the hazard of living separate from Land. As a society, we have lost our understanding of this rule book - and thus our strategies for how to be successful, how to be abundant, and how to thrive as beings on the Earth we evolved on.
The only way to gain this understanding of natural law is to live as part of it.
Now, the conservation world is complex, as well. Participants must be present, known, and respected to make a difference. It’s essential to build connections and maintain them. Most people at the top have spent years in the western education system, gaining knowledge, training, and culture from spending time in academia. You must be comfortable in a boardroom, with technology, and trained in a way of thinking that is understood and respected by the whole. You must advocate for yourself and your ideas, and the ideas of your peers.
The only way to be an influential player in the conservation world is to live as part of it.
COP15
During our five days in Montreal, we did our best to take in what we could. With no real agenda and only one panel to attend at the start of our visit, we had some freedom to explore. Great conversations were had, we shared food and updates with old friends, and found a few new connections.
Inside the orbit of the conservation world, we witnessed progress. Many organizations are gaining strength and perspective. We see awareness of Indigenous conservation growing, and Indigenous voices are more present than ever. It was very clear that everyone we met believes in their hearts that they are making good change. We see sacrifices and commitment all around us; people that have dedicated their careers and lives to their work.
Although we learned and shared as we could, there was no real space to share our learnings from the Land in a meaningful way. There was event after event. Panels, presentations, and networking dinners (some we were invited to, most we were not). We witnessed the proud showcase of many well-meaning projects, speakers, and plans that, from our view on the Land, are misguided. There was quite simply a lack of grounding in natural law, and that, to us, was evident everywhere.
Coming Home
After the dust settles, most delegates return to their organizations and jobs with new knowledge, potential solutions, and marching orders. No doubt, conference goers are tired after the busy weeks of networking, but satisfied they did their best to create good change. At the very least, they attended a huge global event, there is reporting, integrating, and sharing to be done.
As for us, we report back to our boss – the Land.
Her consensus? Unimpressed.
The trees don’t care about our final report. Returning home after two weeks away, we see that nothing has changed – but everything has changed. The rabbits have moved on to different pockets. There have been several snowfalls. Tracks are covered under layers of snow; pieces of time and knowledge are buried away. We must reorient ourselves to the natural laws of the Land, ourselves, and the ultimate balance for all. Meanwhile, the strange weather that we have been getting during the fall and winter prevails and the populations of animals continue to dwindle.
And So…
We recognize that everyone who dedicates their lives to conservation has a meaningful connection with nature in their own way. We understand that each individual cares deeply for the future of the planet. Our perspective is not meant to diminish these efforts, but to point out a critical gap that is hindering the efficacy of almost every person and organization in this line of work.
That gap is the voice from the Land. Those who are dependent and intertwined with nature have a particular perspective, and those voices are –without question –- absent from decision-making tables. When they do get a platform, they are not heard in a way that can influence the system. They speak a different language; they live a different life. The world of conservation and of Land-based people are different worlds.
In rare cases, it is possible to translate between these experiences. We know because we fit the category of translators. We are young, able, and English literate. We have combined experience that has taught us to be appropriate in boardrooms, wear the right clothes, and say the right things.
However, even from this ideal position, we have found that it is shockingly difficult to influence conservation policy at any level, even in our own home: Wood Buffalo National Park. While living on the Land, we certainly do not have the time nor energy to make a dent, never mind a trough, in policy, decision-making, or financial distributions.
Now, consider those beyond our story. Most authentic people of the Land have an amplified struggle to make sense of the conservation world. For starters, there are not many of them left. The majority are old. Many attended residential schools and do not see value in western education/society.
If you sat down for an afternoon around a fire with grandpa Billy, you might catch a glimpse. You will hear about intimate changes in the snow texture over time. You would learn more dimensions to grouse behaviour than you thought were possible. You could ask any question about any animal, and he would give you a story, one that explains the answer to your question and 30 more that you couldn’t even think of.
You could hear about recipes and strategies to cook on a fire, tricks to fix a Ski-Doo, and when to peel trees. Where to find rat root and wild mint. Patterns. Of the Land and of himself, too. How his body reacts to the seasons changing. How his diet changes. What the wind is doing this fall. You would eat food together; you would drink tea.
You would go at his pace. He would share about the beavers, why the population is low this year and what it needs to recover. All this with a sense of humour and humility that comes from truly understanding one’s place in the world. His perspective is internal, and it is grown over time and generations.
You can’t have it by hearing grandpa Billy speak for an hour, a week, or even a month. Not by putting him on a panel. You can appreciate it, you can trust it, but you can’t recreate it. You cannot make decisions like he does or ask questions like he does. You won’t process information the same way. You won’t turn over the same stones, or build similar structures, even if you are given the same materials.
And so, we restate the dilemma. Voices from the Land are not being heard without leaving the Land to fit into a western societal paradigm that has become largely disconnected. When we leave the Land, to varying degrees, we lose the wisdom and understanding of natural law that brings value to this perspective.
At this time, it seems an impossible quandary, and as young people with many decisions to make about our future, we left COP15 with more questions than answers:
How is it possible to make decisions (at any level) about Land, without making space for those that have the most intimate understandings?
Without Land-based voices, how is it conceivable that current conservation efforts are doing the best work for the Land?
How do we, as Land-based people, share our information to the most effective places without sacrificing the time we spend with the Land?
How can the conservation world accept this guidance, while supporting the lifestyles that allow it to flourish?
We do not have the answers, but we present these questions for collective problem-solving. From our perspective, we see the urgency:
Biodiversity is declining fast. It is not a coincidence that Land-based people too have become a rare species. It is imperative that professionals and organizations seek guidance from those who do remain and find ways to orient solutions around their needs. The simple question “what do you need?” would be a baseline for support and respect.
At the same time, conservation efforts can support more people and initiatives that are building relationships with Land, to expand the capacity of natural law knowledge. Looking at the resources and capacity that go into the conservation world, compared to the resources and capacity that support people on the Land, we can see how the gap has widened.
The police presence at COP15 alone could have funded multiple school-wide programs for learning outdoors, yet most children sit and learn in classrooms and on screens day after day. These children grow up to be the decision-makers!
It is in imagining a future where more people are connected, intertwined, and interdependent with nature, where we see hope. From our little home, we wish to share the joy, the balance, the love, and the learning that the Land brings to us daily.
We are received in reciprocity every moment that we dedicate our lives to understanding and being present, because our skin is in the game. If the Land goes down, we really are going with it. That is the world of conservation that the Land has understood and accepted for thousands of years – and its long past time to tune in.