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A Nation leads a fight for the future

IT'S Friday afternoon at the end of a successful Tsleil-Waututh Nation career fair. We're at the community centre on their reserve above Burrard Inlet.

IT'S Friday afternoon at the end of a successful Tsleil-Waututh Nation career fair.

We're at the community centre on their reserve above Burrard Inlet. Since the Gathering Place Cafe closed years ago, opportunities to visit here don't come as often - this past Christmas' excellent craft fair

was one, and the community showing of People of the Inlet, the outstanding hour-long documentary about the Tsleil-Waututh and their heritage was another.

I'm here to meet Justin George, 42-year-old chief of the Tsleil-Waututh ("slay-wah-tooth") for the past three years. Fit and optimistic, he previously served on the reserve's council for eight years. He's from a honoured lineage. His dad, Leonard, was also chief, and his grandfather, the heroic Chief Dan George needs no introduction.

You hear good things about the reserve's new leadership these days, though - yes, that was the Tsleil-Waututh making world headlines at the ceremonial opening of the Rio+20 Earth Summit in Brazil this week - so a handshake here felt overdue.

"We've been blessed to have good leaders in the past," George says. "It's an honour to serve this community and our elders."

He's a soulful guy. "In my childhood, in my early teens, there was a lot of hurt," he explains. "The impact that residential schools, especially, had on First Nations people across the country - the loss of family contact, our language - was devastating, but the one thing that held on was the essence of the culture. The drumbeat is alive, and you can hear it in the words of my grandfather, Chief Dan George. He believed in a better future for the people. I love the analogy of the canoe he talked about, about pulling together with one heart, one mind, one spirit. So our culture is very much alive, vibrant and growing."

He's a leader who doesn't mind smiling a lot. "We have a strong identity as Tsleil-Waututh; we believe we can make a difference," he asserts. "But every race has something to offer as well, and we're getting more connected. That was something my grandfather was known for; he understood that we're all connected as human beings."

It's refreshing to hear this. The inlet these First Nations neighbours know as home is one that North Vancouver and Lower Mainland residents have huge stakes in. Houston-based energy giant Kinder Morgan's controversial proposal to expand the 60-year-old pipeline that carries oil from northern Alberta's oil-patch regions to Burnaby's side of Burrard Inlet looms over all of us.

The Tsleil-Waututh have stepped up as leaders in opposing the plan.

"As a collective, we have to look at the decisions we're making," George says. "People live here because of the quality of life. Kinder Morgan is putting that in jeopardy. Pollution doesn't see colour. It's a problem for all of us. The real benefits are in China, in the tar sands, not here; the environmental risks are enormous.

"Our reserve boundaries go into the inlet. That's the heart of who we are as a people: Our name means "people of the inlet." We have a stewardship policy, and we are entitled to be consulted regarding our Aboriginal Rights to the territory.

"The Elders are saying to us: 'Enough is enough,' and that we need to stand up, not just for our children and grandchildren - for all the children," he says.

Now things are happening. "We're looking to work with local governments," George confirms. "The mayor of Vancouver, he's against it. The rumblings are that North Shore (municipalities) are going to oppose it, but they haven't formalized. I really believe this is something that's going to unite Tsleil-Waututh and our neighbours."

Meanwhile, more than 130 First Nations peoples from along the Fraser River who understand the nature of precious wild salmon will sign the Save the Fraser declaration in Cates Park July 7 - more Tsleil-Waututh leadership.

We talked a long time. I liked Chief Justin. The vibes on the reserve looked and felt healthy, partly from the economic boost of residential housing projects at its north end, and the fact some 85 community members are now employed in administration.

With about 250 residents on the reserve lands, and some 500 community members in all, "We're small in numbers, and big in heart," George says. Unemployment is less than 1%. Something's working.

There are ideas for a new administration-governance building and a 30-lot subdivision to meet the reserve's growing community demand.

There are thriving summer cultural festivals ahead.

Nearby, old Chief Leonard remains a powerful shamanic presence, and you can sense the pervasive spirit of his dad, Chief Dan George, recognized globally, with honour, as "the world's best-known Indian."

His family prayer has been adopted as the Coast Salish Hymn by many Pacific Coast First Nations peoples, a kind of unofficial anthem.

So why is this beloved elder still not honoured in his home place? Renaming the Seymour River Bridge near the end of the Ironworker's Memorial would make it an enduring symbol of North Vancouver's civic pride: The Chief Dan George Memorial Bridge. Tourists would love it. Wouldn't we all?

He's the leader who taught we can all become truly native to this place.

Dear District Officials, are you listening?