Earlier this week, our team had the honour of joining Elder Norman "Redsky" Campbell at our Bannatyne office on Treaty 1 territory that brought together land, learning, and listening in a way that no boardroom or briefing ever could. Elder Campbell welcomed us with warmth, humility, and the kind of wisdom that cannot be found in textbooks.
From the moment he arrived, it was clear we were entering a space where different rules applied. Not rules based on formality or procedure, but rules grounded in respect. Respect for the land. Respect for story. Respect for silence. Elder Campbell encouraged us to slow down and pay attention to what could not be seen at first glance. He reminded us that the land is not just a backdrop, but a living teacher, holding memory and meaning far older than the buildings around it.
Elder Campbell shared stories of place, of ancestry, and of care. He spoke about how Indigenous relationships to land are built on responsibility, not control. The land is not a resource to be managed, but a relative to be cared for. These were not abstract teachings. They were invitations to see the world differently.
Elder Campbell explained that Indigenous law, governance, ceremony, and language are not separate from daily life. They are woven into each other, carried in how people speak, how they treat each other, and how they move through space. Knowledge, in this view, is not something to be extracted and stored. It is something to be lived.
At one point during the conversation, Elder Campbell paused, letting the room settle into silence. His eyes lifted slightly, as if seeing beyond the walls we sat within. Then he said quietly, “The land remembers everything.” That sentence lingered in the air. It grounded the discussion in something older and deeper than policy or process. It reminded us that beneath every development, every decision, there is memory that must be respected.
As the discussion continued, Elder Campbell spoke about the way Indigenous knowledge is often carried in relationships, stories, and ceremony rather than documents or files. He encouraged us to think differently about how knowledge is shared and sustained. “If it just sits on a shelf, it dies,” he said. His words challenged us to consider not only what we learn, but how we live what we learn and how we carry it into our actions, conversations, and commitments.
The visit was not rushed. It unfolded slowly, with space for reflection, humour, and meaningful silence. It allowed us to think deeply about what it means to work in partnership with Indigenous communities, and what it looks like to truly listen. Not just to people, but to the land, to the wind, and to the history beneath our feet.
Near the end of the visit, Elder Campbell offered a prayer for those present. It was a moment of grounding. His voice was steady, and his words called in clarity, purpose, and care. He reminded us that reconciliation is not an outcome, but a responsibility. It requires time, humility, and an ongoing commitment to show up differently.
We left that site with more than notes. We left with a deeper understanding of what it means to walk alongside Indigenous communities, not ahead of them. We left reminded that land-based learning is not supplementary to our work. It is essential to it.
We extend our deep gratitude to Elder Norman Campbell for sharing his time, his presence, and his teachings. His generosity and guidance will continue to shape how we listen, how we lead, and how we honour the stories carried by the land.
This visit was not just an event. It was a reminder that the land always has something to say. All we have to do is be still long enough to hear it.
