Emelie Saunders was born in Yellowknife, but was raised by her grandparents at Keldelé (Talthelei Narrows). “Growing up in the bush with elders, I learned how to respect the land, how to be careful. Even when I was a really little girl, still crawling, I remember my grandmother telling me what I could touch and not touch.” From her grandfather, Emelie learned the importance of being quiet. “I travelled everywhere with my grandfather, and he was always hunting, so I learned to always be quiet and to listen.”
So much of Emelie’s early education was about living in good relation with the land, the water, and the animals. She remembers one day when her grandfather was down by the lake. She could hear him talking, but she didn’t see anyone else around. “I asked him, ‘Who are you talking to?’ My grandpa said, ‘Do you see the water, the land, the trees, the sky? The Creator gave us all that to live on, to survive.’”
Two important values that Emelie’s grandparents passed on to her were reciprocity and consent. “I was taught that everything is sacred, so if you’re going to take a tree, you have to ask the tree and you have to give the tree something in return. If we were going to play in the water, we had to ask the water if we could do that.”
When Emelie was three or four, her grandfather built a log house at the old Łutsël K’é and the family relocated. A few years later, her grandmother passed away and Emelie was taken to Fort Resolution, where she was reunited with her biological mother. She spent the rest of her school years there, though at her grandfather’s insistence, she attended the day school instead of the residential school.
After leaving school, Emelie lived for a time in Yellowknife with her aunt and uncle. She also stayed at a fish camp in the Simpson Islands. Eventually, she moved south to Edmonton, where she worked at the Charles Camsell Hospital and eventually met her partner. Her children were born and raised in McLennan, Alberta.
Later when she and her partner separated, Emelie and her children returned north. While she was working as a cook in Yellowknife, she was approached by two women. “They said, ‘You have a lot of potential. You should become an addictions counsellor.’” Emelie was interested–she had firsthand experience of the devastating effects of drugs and alcohol–but first she needed to upgrade her qualifications.
As a single mother, Emelie didn’t have the luxury of just going to school. While studying for her GED at Sir John Franklin High School in Yellowknife, she worked full-time to support her children and ensure they too got an education. With her upgrading complete, Emelie got a job at Northern Addiction Services, the first residential treatment facility in the NWT. Emelie’s education continued. In addition to on-the-job training she received at Northern Addiction Services, she began working toward a Bachelor of Social Work.
In 1989, Łutsël K’é’s chief and council passed a resolution requiring elected officials with substance abuse issues to enter treatment or step down. Eight councillors and the band manager travelled to Alberta to complete an eight-week treatment program at Stoney Medicine Lodge. This decision marked a turning point for the First Nation and would also be an important milestone in Emelie’s journey. Around that time, she received a letter from the leadership asking her to come back to the community to provide addictions support. She finally made the move in 1991.
While it was good to be home, Emelie became aware of what she had lost. “I had to re-learn my language and all of my teachings from the land. I had to relearn everything.” Today, she is committed to passing on what she has learned and relearned over her life to the young people in her community.
Emelie, in her words, is “involved in just about everything.” She sat on council for six terms. She has fostered sixteen children and opened her home to people experiencing family violence. She was the community coroner for six years, a position that required “a lot of training.” She has sat on a number of boards, including the Native Women’s Association, the Yellowknife Health and Social Services Authority, and the South Slave Divisional Education Council, as well as the local health authority and housing authority in Łutsël K’é. She organizes dance classes for people in the community, but especially for children, because she believes “you’ve got to have joy in your life.” She likes facilitating workshops. She has offered pre-natal training for young women and healing workshops for the leadership. She has also delivered genealogy workshops to help people understand their families. And if that isn’t enough, she loves baking. “People are always asking for bread and buns, so I try to make extra. I guess people like my buns,” she says with a smile.
Emelie first became involved with efforts to protect Thaidene Nëné in the mid-1990s. She explains, “Elders were getting together because they were worried about the diamond mines and then later, they were concerned about power generation and lines to service the mines. I got involved at first to help explain things to the elders, to interpret here and there.” Eventually, she was asked by the elders to sit on the advisory board, a responsibility she gladly took on. “I thought I could contribute a lot of information about what the elders had seen and wanted, how they wanted the protected area to be, because I’ve always been with them, right from the beginning.”
Last fall, Emelie was asked to join Thaidene Nëné Xá Dá Yáłtı, which means the people that speak for Thaidene Nëné in Dënesųłıné yatıé. Once again, she welcomed the opportunity to serve her community and bring her knowledge and experience forward to protect Thaidene Nëné. “The land is so important, so is our history. From the older ones, we learn how we build our relationship with the land. Part of that is we have to give back to the land.”
When asked to name a special place in Thaidene Nëné, Emily said “the pilgrimage,” referring to a twenty-four-kilometre journey from Desnéthcheé, the community’s spiritual gathering site at Kaché, to Ts’ąkuı Theda (Parry Falls). She undertook the hike shortly after moving back to Łutsël K’é, an experience she will never forget. “The first day, I fell against a rock and hurt my knee because I was used to walking in a city, not on a trail. I was the last one out of the thirteen of us to get back to Desnéthcheé. One of the elders practically carried me.” But it was worth the challenge and discomfort because she felt a sense of wellbeing and care. “For me, the special place is always the pilgrimage and knowing that we are being looked after, holistically.”
So much of Emelie’s early education was about living in good relation with the land, the water, and the animals. She remembers one day when her grandfather was down by the lake. She could hear him talking, but she didn’t see anyone else around. “I asked him, ‘Who are you talking to?’ My grandpa said, ‘Do you see the water, the land, the trees, the sky? The Creator gave us all that to live on, to survive.’”
Two important values that Emelie’s grandparents passed on to her were reciprocity and consent. “I was taught that everything is sacred, so if you’re going to take a tree, you have to ask the tree and you have to give the tree something in return. If we were going to play in the water, we had to ask the water if we could do that.”
When Emelie was three or four, her grandfather built a log house at the old Łutsël K’é and the family relocated. A few years later, her grandmother passed away and Emelie was taken to Fort Resolution, where she was reunited with her biological mother. She spent the rest of her school years there, though at her grandfather’s insistence, she attended the day school instead of the residential school.
After leaving school, Emelie lived for a time in Yellowknife with her aunt and uncle. She also stayed at a fish camp in the Simpson Islands. Eventually, she moved south to Edmonton, where she worked at the Charles Camsell Hospital and eventually met her partner. Her children were born and raised in McLennan, Alberta.
Later when she and her partner separated, Emelie and her children returned north. While she was working as a cook in Yellowknife, she was approached by two women. “They said, ‘You have a lot of potential. You should become an addictions counsellor.’” Emelie was interested–she had firsthand experience of the devastating effects of drugs and alcohol–but first she needed to upgrade her qualifications.
As a single mother, Emelie didn’t have the luxury of just going to school. While studying for her GED at Sir John Franklin High School in Yellowknife, she worked full-time to support her children and ensure they too got an education. With her upgrading complete, Emelie got a job at Northern Addiction Services, the first residential treatment facility in the NWT. Emelie’s education continued. In addition to on-the-job training she received at Northern Addiction Services, she began working toward a Bachelor of Social Work.
In 1989, Łutsël K’é’s chief and council passed a resolution requiring elected officials with substance abuse issues to enter treatment or step down. Eight councillors and the band manager travelled to Alberta to complete an eight-week treatment program at Stoney Medicine Lodge. This decision marked a turning point for the First Nation and would also be an important milestone in Emelie’s journey. Around that time, she received a letter from the leadership asking her to come back to the community to provide addictions support. She finally made the move in 1991.
While it was good to be home, Emelie became aware of what she had lost. “I had to re-learn my language and all of my teachings from the land. I had to relearn everything.” Today, she is committed to passing on what she has learned and relearned over her life to the young people in her community.
Emelie, in her words, is “involved in just about everything.” She sat on council for six terms. She has fostered sixteen children and opened her home to people experiencing family violence. She was the community coroner for six years, a position that required “a lot of training.” She has sat on a number of boards, including the Native Women’s Association, the Yellowknife Health and Social Services Authority, and the South Slave Divisional Education Council, as well as the local health authority and housing authority in Łutsël K’é. She organizes dance classes for people in the community, but especially for children, because she believes “you’ve got to have joy in your life.” She likes facilitating workshops. She has offered pre-natal training for young women and healing workshops for the leadership. She has also delivered genealogy workshops to help people understand their families. And if that isn’t enough, she loves baking. “People are always asking for bread and buns, so I try to make extra. I guess people like my buns,” she says with a smile.
Emelie first became involved with efforts to protect Thaidene Nëné in the mid-1990s. She explains, “Elders were getting together because they were worried about the diamond mines and then later, they were concerned about power generation and lines to service the mines. I got involved at first to help explain things to the elders, to interpret here and there.” Eventually, she was asked by the elders to sit on the advisory board, a responsibility she gladly took on. “I thought I could contribute a lot of information about what the elders had seen and wanted, how they wanted the protected area to be, because I’ve always been with them, right from the beginning.”
Last fall, Emelie was asked to join Thaidene Nëné Xá Dá Yáłtı, which means the people that speak for Thaidene Nëné in Dënesųłıné yatıé. Once again, she welcomed the opportunity to serve her community and bring her knowledge and experience forward to protect Thaidene Nëné. “The land is so important, so is our history. From the older ones, we learn how we build our relationship with the land. Part of that is we have to give back to the land.”
When asked to name a special place in Thaidene Nëné, Emily said “the pilgrimage,” referring to a twenty-four-kilometre journey from Desnéthcheé, the community’s spiritual gathering site at Kaché, to Ts’ąkuı Theda (Parry Falls). She undertook the hike shortly after moving back to Łutsël K’é, an experience she will never forget. “The first day, I fell against a rock and hurt my knee because I was used to walking in a city, not on a trail. I was the last one out of the thirteen of us to get back to Desnéthcheé. One of the elders practically carried me.” But it was worth the challenge and discomfort because she felt a sense of wellbeing and care. “For me, the special place is always the pilgrimage and knowing that we are being looked after, holistically.”