When asked to introduce himself, Earl Evans says, “I’m from Fort Smith. I’ve lived in the territories all my life. I’ve hunted, trapped, and travelled the land since I was old enough to walk behind my dad, dragging rabbits.” It’s a poignant image of a young Métis boy apprenticing as a harvester. It’s no wonder that Earl loves the land and spending time on the land.
Earl is perhaps best known in the North for his efforts to protect caribou. For the last twenty years, he has been a member of the Beverly and Qamanirjuaq Caribou Management Board. Established in 1982, it was the first caribou co-management board in North America. For the last decade, he has been the board chair, a role that sees him working closely with Dene, Cree, Inuit, and Métis from Manitoba, Saskatchewan, the Northwest Territories, and Nunavut to ensure the wellbeing of caribou.
Earl’s love of the land and extensive board experience made him an obvious choice for appointment to Thaidene Nëné Xá Dá Yáłtı, the operational management board for the Thaidene Nëné Indigenous Protected Area. His appointment makes sense for other reasons, though.
Earl is well connected, especially with the hunters and trappers from his area, and also Elders. “I like talking to the Elders and hearing their stories,” he says. “Long time ago is very interesting to me.” The old days are interesting for Earl, in part, because they offer a way of being that is vital to ensuring the health and well-being of the land, the animals, and people for the future. “People used to have more of a relationship with the land,” he explains, “as they lived out there every day. The land—the birds, the animals—was their life. It was a part of them.”
Earl knows the south end of Thaidene Nëné best from hunting trips. Perhaps his favourite spot in the protected area is Tent Lake. He has wonderful memories of harvesting caribou there with his late son, Trevor, in the 1980s and 1990s.
For Earl, Thaidene Nëné is “kind of like the last frontier.” “It’s one of the last really pristine areas,” he says. “Industry hasn’t really got to it. It’s important that we preserve it for generations to come.” If Earl’s experience and connections are what made him a good candidate for the board, he accepted the appointment because he wants to ensure the land remains “clean and pristine for future generations.”
Earl is appreciative of the work the people of Łutsël K’é did to ensure the permanent protection of Thaidene Nëné. “They had the foresight to see what has happened to land outside of parks and protected areas as a result of industry, and to act quickly. The Elders brought their concerns forward and then others in the community got behind them and they saw it through.”
Looking to the future, Earl wants “to see rules and regulations put in place as soon as possible, especially in relation to new operations like outfitting, to ensure that everything is done properly and there is no damage to the land.” But it’s important that such rules and regulations respect the rights and ways of life of Dene and Métis.
Like other Indigenous people from the southern part of the NWT, the spectre of Wood Buffalo National Park looms large for Earl. “We’ve seen what happened with Wood Buffalo and we don’t want to repeat that,” says Earl, referring to the fact that Indigenous peoples, but especially Métis, were prevented from practicing their way of life in the national park for decades. He continues, “We want the people to be part of the land, part of the protected area, not outsiders looking in. We want to control our own destiny and our own land so that we are free to travel and hunt as we have always done.”
Earl is perhaps best known in the North for his efforts to protect caribou. For the last twenty years, he has been a member of the Beverly and Qamanirjuaq Caribou Management Board. Established in 1982, it was the first caribou co-management board in North America. For the last decade, he has been the board chair, a role that sees him working closely with Dene, Cree, Inuit, and Métis from Manitoba, Saskatchewan, the Northwest Territories, and Nunavut to ensure the wellbeing of caribou.
Earl’s love of the land and extensive board experience made him an obvious choice for appointment to Thaidene Nëné Xá Dá Yáłtı, the operational management board for the Thaidene Nëné Indigenous Protected Area. His appointment makes sense for other reasons, though.
Earl is well connected, especially with the hunters and trappers from his area, and also Elders. “I like talking to the Elders and hearing their stories,” he says. “Long time ago is very interesting to me.” The old days are interesting for Earl, in part, because they offer a way of being that is vital to ensuring the health and well-being of the land, the animals, and people for the future. “People used to have more of a relationship with the land,” he explains, “as they lived out there every day. The land—the birds, the animals—was their life. It was a part of them.”
Earl knows the south end of Thaidene Nëné best from hunting trips. Perhaps his favourite spot in the protected area is Tent Lake. He has wonderful memories of harvesting caribou there with his late son, Trevor, in the 1980s and 1990s.
For Earl, Thaidene Nëné is “kind of like the last frontier.” “It’s one of the last really pristine areas,” he says. “Industry hasn’t really got to it. It’s important that we preserve it for generations to come.” If Earl’s experience and connections are what made him a good candidate for the board, he accepted the appointment because he wants to ensure the land remains “clean and pristine for future generations.”
Earl is appreciative of the work the people of Łutsël K’é did to ensure the permanent protection of Thaidene Nëné. “They had the foresight to see what has happened to land outside of parks and protected areas as a result of industry, and to act quickly. The Elders brought their concerns forward and then others in the community got behind them and they saw it through.”
Looking to the future, Earl wants “to see rules and regulations put in place as soon as possible, especially in relation to new operations like outfitting, to ensure that everything is done properly and there is no damage to the land.” But it’s important that such rules and regulations respect the rights and ways of life of Dene and Métis.
Like other Indigenous people from the southern part of the NWT, the spectre of Wood Buffalo National Park looms large for Earl. “We’ve seen what happened with Wood Buffalo and we don’t want to repeat that,” says Earl, referring to the fact that Indigenous peoples, but especially Métis, were prevented from practicing their way of life in the national park for decades. He continues, “We want the people to be part of the land, part of the protected area, not outsiders looking in. We want to control our own destiny and our own land so that we are free to travel and hunt as we have always done.”