From Truth to Tokenism to True Reconciliation

A Decade of Promises and Unfinished Work

June 21, 2025 marked the tenth anniversary of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission’s release of its summary report and 94 Calls to Action, calling upon all Canadians—individuals, institutions, and governments—to redress the legacy of residential schools and advance the process of reconciliation.

It was a pivotal moment.

A reckoning.

A mirror.

A test of our national character.

A questioning of our identity.

Ten years after this release we are deep in an existential crisis as a nation. As my friend and author of Unbroken: My Fight for Survival, Hope, and Justice for Indigenous Women and Girls Angela Sterritt says, 'There's an Indigenous truth, and then there's the Canadian truth, and they're very, very different.'

Of the 94 Calls to Action, only 13 have been fully implemented. 38 remain entirely unstarted. The remainder are stuck somewhere between intention and inertia, buried beneath bureaucracy or avoidance, societal, political or otherwise.

Many of these are not monumental asks. Some of the Calls to Action remaining—Calls like #45, which urges the government to formally repudiate concepts like the Doctrine of Discovery and terra nullius—should be the easiest to fulfil. They are not controversial in many political, academic and spiritual circles. But they intimidate those whose power relies on disregarding whose land they have

built their lives on.

Because to repudiate the Doctrine of Discovery is to admit that Canada was never discovered, only stolen.

To take it seriously is to confront the very foundations of property law, of “ownership,” of crown land and corporate entitlement. And that confrontation reveals what many fear: that true reconciliation cannot exist without addressing the theft of land, of broken treaties.

And that, my friends, is why land back isn’t just a slogan.

It’s a necessity.

Why I Care: My Sister. My Family. My Community.

I’ve been asked—more than once—why I care so much. Why I speak up, why I get involved at all.

I’ve been called a “race traitor” by a community member in public and on mic. I’ve been threatened for the commitment I’ve made to work alongside Indigenous communities.

But here’s the truth:

I do this because of my sister.

Because of my family.

Because of my community.

Because I know what judgement feels like when it’s aimed at someone you love for simply existing.

Because I know that true reconciliation doesn’t happen from behind a podium, or in a tweet, or only on September 30. It happens in community, in hospitals, in courtrooms and classrooms. It happens in the tension between law and ceremony, in planting medicines in unfamiliar soil. It happens in choosing to show up—even when you don’t know what to say.

What’s Been Done — and What Hasn’t

There has been some movement, yes.

● The establishment of the National Day for Truth and Reconciliation.

● Some integration of residential school history into provincial curriculums.

● Cultural humility (competency) training for public servants, educators, and healthcare workers

in some jurisdictions.

● The creation of an Indigenous Languages Act, though it lacks adequate funding.

● Funding for mental health services in some communities.

But the bigger, harder work? We haven’t even started.

Calls to Action Still Ignored:

● #45: A Royal Proclamation of Reconciliation, affirming the nation-to-nation relationship between

Aboriginal peoples and the Crown, and repudiating the Doctrine of Discovery and terra nullius.

● #46.1: Full adoption and implementation of UNDRIP (United Nations Declaration on the Rights

of Indigenous Peoples)—including free, prior, and informed consent on development projects.

● #47: Reconciliation through legislation to renew or establish treaties based on mutual

recognition.

● #50: Funding for Indigenous law institutes to ensure Indigenous legal traditions are properly recognized and respected.

● #55–#56: Ongoing public reporting and oversight of reconciliation progress—transparency we still don’t have.

● #73: Development of a national residential school death registry.

● #75: Establishment of memorials at former residential school sites, as directed by Survivors and communities—not tokenized gestures but real investments in truth-telling.

Land Back Isn’t a Threat. It’s a Promise.

The government continues to avoid the most meaningful Calls because they threaten colonial structures—structures still clinging to the legal fiction that this land was “discovered,” not stolen.

But land back doesn’t mean giving up your home.

Decolonization doesn’t mean violence.

It means reorienting power.

It means returning stewardship to the communities who have protected these territories for millennia.

It means moving beyond the transactional and into the relational.

And, it means recognizing that real reconciliation is impossible if Canada continues to function on land that is unceded, without consent, and without meaningful compensation.

Reconciliation cannot coexist with expropriation.

It cannot be built on denial.

What Reconciliation Really Requires

This isn’t just about government reports or election platforms. It’s about how we live our lives, every day.

It’s about:

● Honouring treaties as living agreements—not historic artefacts.

● Calling on all levels of government to fulfil outstanding Calls to Action, especially those that

challenge systemic foundations.

● Supporting Indigenous land defenders instead of criminalizing them.

● Demanding the return of land where feasible—beginning with public lands, parks, and unused crown holdings.

● Investing in language, law, ceremony and education, not just for optics, but for justice.

● Funding Indigenous-led healing programs on the timelines that communities dictate—not the ones that fit budget cycles.

And for settlers and descendants of settlers like me, it’s about:

● Knowing when to speak (even when your voice shakes) and when to listen.

● Learning uncomfortable truths without demanding comfort in return.

● Supporting Indigenous leadership, even when it disrupts our assumptions.

● Teaching our children that history doesn’t start with Confederation.

● Asking ourselves: What am I willing to give up, to make reconciliation real?

In Honour of Those We've Lost

I’ve carried grief in this work. I’ve mourned my elders. My mentors. My friends. I grieve the recent passing of Tara Kappo, whose ceremony taught me more than any lecture ever could. Her research, kiskinohawmatok, offered a vision of mutual respect and treaty-based relationships. She helped me see that reconciliation isn’t a line you cross. It’s a way you live.

And the Honourable Justice Murray Sinclair, whose words and presence shaped a nation’s reckoning. His death left many of us gasping for breath. But his life’s work remains a legacy—and a call.

“The road we travel is equal in importance to the destination we seek. There are no shortcuts. When it comes to truth and reconciliation, we are all forced to go the distance.”

Ten Years On. Where Are You?

I’m reminded of a story that barely made a blip on the news. One of Canada’s largest reserves Maskwascis, near my home community of Red Deer, Alberta, was in desperate need of repaving a major road into the community. It did eventually happen, but only just before the Papal visit in 2022. If reconciliation is a road, it’s not paved yet. There are stretches missing. Entire sections washed away by the flood of resistance to change. But people are travelling it anyway.

And that’s what matters.

I’m still walking. Sometimes in long skirts that make large strides tricky. Sometimes late for ceremony or a community gathering. But I’m still showing up.

Because this is what reconciliation looks like when it’s real. It’s inconvenient, emotional, it’s messy and

it’s not always hashtag-ready.

For my sister.

For my family.

For all my relations.

For all your relations.

For all generations to come.

We travel this road not knowing if we’ll reach the destination, but that doesn’t absolve us of the journey. We must travel it with intention, courage, and accountability.

And we must do it together.