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This is part of a series of profiles about the staff, leaders, and community members who are hard at work implementing Łutsël K’é Dene First Nation's vision for the Thaidene Nëné Indigenous Protected Area. You can read the other profiles here.  Terri Enzoe was born on hazú (the barrenlands). Her parents, Elizabeth (Nitah) Enzoe and Billy Enzoe, named their daughter Doris (pronounced Door-ass), the Dënesųłıné version of Terese. Later, travelling by canoe, the family moved to Reliance, where there was a trading post, then eventually to Snowdrift as Łutsël K’é was then known. In the fall time, the family would relocate to the bush to trap and harvest, returning to the community at Christmas. The rest of the year, Billy Enzoe did odd jobs. Terri was raised with a foot in two worlds, though her heart is on the tundra.
Today, Terri, who lives in Łutsël K’é with her partner Andy, takes every opportunity to be out on the land, most often travelling with her son, Kyle, who she describes as “made for the bush.” (Terri is mother to three other children and grandmother to six.) When she’s in town, Terri can be found fixing meat, tanning hides, and sewing—her expertly crafted designs are available through Caribou People Creations. Terri was a familiar face at the community meetings that were critical to the establishment of Thaidene Nëné. When she thinks about Thaidene Nëné, Terri recalls those meetings and the elders’ commitment to protecting the land for younger generations. “The elders knew that development was coming and that it might destroy our water and our animals,” Terri says. The elders called the area of land they wanted to protect, Thaidene Nëné. “Thaidene means long time ago, the old timers,” Terri explains. “Thaidene Nëné is where our ancestors used to live long time ago.” It was Terri’s sister, Gloria Enzoe (now Shearing), who started Ni Hat’ni Dene, which means “watchers of the land” in Dënesųłıné, in 2008. Terri and her son, Kyle, applied because they were looking for a man and a woman to serve as guardians. Terri saw the utility in that approach: “That way you can bring young girls and young men out, to teach them both how to live off the land.” Over ten summers, Terri worked closely with young women and men from the community, sharing her knowledge of how to live on the land, but also Dënesųłıné language and culture. She recalls, “We showed them spiritual places, burial sites, the places where our ancestors used to live. We showed them where you have to be quiet, where you have to pay the water. We showed them that this is a good place for stopping when it’s windy. This is a good place for fishing. And we’d tell them how it used to be long time ago.” Terri has many stories from the decade that she spent travelling the land and water with Ni Hat’ni Dene. There was the time, for instance, they were winded for five days at the Ni Hat’ni cabin at Talthelie Narrows. Terri, Kyle, and the four summer interns busied themselves setting and pulling a net for fish sampling. Together the group processed 17 trout and 67 jumbo whitefish. Just as they finished, they turned around and there was a moose. After fixing the meat, the group travelled back to town. “I went to the store and told everyone, ‘There’s lots of fish, lots of moose.’ I spent the rest of the day giving away fish and meat,” Terri remembers with a big grin. Today, Terri is a member of the Łutsël K’é Dene First Nation council and Sub-Chief of the community. In that capacity, she is supporting and helping to guide Łutsël K’é’s work in Thaidene Nëné. Terri believes strongly that the success of Thaidene Nëné is directly related to youth: “We have to motivate our young people. We have to tell them how we used to live and how we’re going to live today. The life cycle has all changed now—it’s so different—but we still have to keep our old ways of living if we want to keep Thaidene Nëné.” This sharing of knowledge is critical to the future of the Indigenous protected area. Terri likens the way forward to a path: “If you follow those footprints, it will go on to the next generation and the ones after that. If you don’t, it stops there. The path ends. Then there’s no Thaidene Nëné.” This is part of a series of profiles about the staff, leaders, and community members who are hard at work implementing Łutsël K’é Dene First Nation's vision for the Thaidene Nëné Indigenous Protected Area. You can read the other profiles here.  When Darryl Marlowe was first elected chief of the Łutsël K’é Dene First Nation in March 2017, he was 30 years old, making him the youngest person in the community’s history to hold that office. Darryl was happy to have been re-elected for a second term in October 2020: “I really enjoy working for my people, protecting our land, protecting our treaty rights, protecting our inherent rights.”
When he’s not advocating for his people and Thaidene Nëné, Darryl loves spending time on the land with his family, including his five children. Darryl was taught to travel and live on the land by his grandparents, George and Celine Marlowe and Henry King and Maryrose Boucher, and his parents, Kenneth and Elizabeth Boucher. He also found a skilled and willing mentor in his father-in-law, Archie Catholique, who’s been taking Darryl out hunting by boat and skidoo since he was 16. It is not just the skills needed to be a hunter that were passed on to Darryl, but also Dënesųłıné ethics: “When we go out, we go out as a group. We hunt together and stay together. We help each other, we take care of each other. We also respect the land and the animal. Every time we harvest an animal, we are grateful. We put down tobacco. We say thank you to the animal’s spirit. That animal giving its life allows us to provide for our families.” While Darryl loves to visit Ts’ąkuı Theda (Lady of the Falls) and Kaché (Fort Reliance), all of Thaidene Nëné is special for the chief, which is why he feels so strongly about the community’s decision to designate it an Indigenous protected area: “We are protecting the heart of our traditional territory from development for the long term. We want to ensure that our way of life, our culture, our land, our water, our animals will be protected for many years to come.” In protecting Thaidene Nëné, the community of Łutsël K’é is seeking to realize the vision of their ancestors through guidance provided by the elders. Darryl explains, “Everything that we have done is for the future. That’s what our elders used to say: yunedhé xa, which means for the future. All of this work is for future generations. We are leaving them a legacy.” Darryl wasn’t even born when the discussions of a park first surfaced, but he is honoured to have been able to be part of the process in recent years. In particular, he is proud of the way the community has worked with other partners to have portions of the Thaidene Nëné Indigenous Protected Area designated as a national park reserve, a territorial protected area, and a wildlife conservation area: “I’m glad we took the initiative to develop relationships with two crown governments. At a time when people are talking about reconciliation, we are an example for the rest of the country.” In addition to providing the heart of the community’s traditional territory with long-term protection from development, Darryl envisions other benefits for the community as they work to develop a tourism and conservation economy through Thaidene Nëné, including employment that is sustainable and meaningful for Łutsël K’é Dene. Darryl is particularly enthusiastic about the possibilities afforded by Ni Hat’ni Dene. As Darryl notes, “It’s a dream job for people because they get to spend time out on the land.” As importantly, the community relies on the guardians “to ensure that people are being respectful of Łutsël K’é’s traditional territory.” At present, all of the guardians are men. Going forward, Darryl would like to see women on the crew: “They can inspire and open up opportunities for younger generations.” With a national park reserve and territorial protected area within its borders, Thaidene Nëné will welcome visitors from across the territory, the country, and around the world. Darryl would like to remind visitors that Thaidene Nëné is sacred for the Łutsël K’é Dene, but also that the community depends on the land to sustain itself and its way of life: “Our elders modelled respect for the land. It is our responsibility as young leaders to do the same and to pass this teaching on to others.” This is part of a series of profiles about the staff, leaders, and community members who are hard at work implementing Łutsël K’é Dene First Nation's vision for the Thaidene Nëné Indigenous Protected Area. You can read the other profiles here.  Steven celebrating with the Łutsël K’é Dene Drummers at the Thaidene Nëné signing ceremony in August 2019. “I’m a guy from Łutsël K’é,” Steven Nitah says, a smile in his voice, when asked to introduce himself. And while the statement is certainly true, he is much more than that. Steven has served as member of the NWT’s Legislative Assembly, as the community negotiator for Łutsël K’é at the Akaitcho main table, as chief of the First Nation, and as the chief negotiator for the Thaidene Nëné Indigenous Protected Area. More recently, Steven has been an advocate for Indigenous-led conservation as a member of the Indigenous Circle of Experts (ICE) for the Pathway to Canada Target 1 and as one of four Indigenous leads with the Conservation through Reconciliation Partnership.
Steven Nitah was born in his traditional territory and raised on the land by his grandparents, Abel and Mary Louise Nitah, and his great grandparents on his grandmother’s side, John and Marie Tassi. His family lived at Fort Reliance so he knows intimately the area along Pike’s Portage to Ɂedacho Kúe (Artillery Lake) and the north and south shores of McLeod Bay. “There are many other special places in Thaidene Nëné, but those are the areas that I grew up in. That’s home.” It was particularly as the family travelled by boat that Steven came to understand his responsibilities as Łutsël K’é Dene. “When you’re travelling, you’re listening to the stories of the elders,” he explains. “You’re listening to your grandparents talk about your responsibility to your territory, to ensure that the land is there for future generations, but also that our way of life can continue long into the future.” Steven’s direct involvement with Thaidene Nëné began while he was a community negotiator. “I was part of the team that worked with Canada to have an area withdrawn as an area of interest for a national park,” he says. “This was part of the broader land withdrawal for the Akaticho Process.” Later, as chief, Steven played a pivotal role in developing the framework agreement for Thaidene Nëné, an agreement that bears his signature and that of then Enrivonment Miniser Jim Prentice. When his term as chief was coming to an end, the LKDFN Council appointed Steven chief negotiator for the proposed protected area. “The elders didn’t want me to be the chief any more,” he says, with his characteristic chuckle. “They wanted me on the negotiating table.” Imagining and then working to achieve the community’s vision for Thaidene Nëné was a long and arduous process. Negotiations were stalled more than once by delays, the most significant of which was caused by devolution. “The federal government,” Steven explains, “was in the midst of transferring a variety of responsibilities to the territorial government. They didn’t want anything to further muddy the waters.” The negotiating team and the community waited for more than a year to get things back on track. There was also a six-month hiatus around 2012 when Parks Canada was gutted by the Harper government. “Budget cuts, early retirements, staff layoff, all of that stalled negotiations,” Steven says. The negotiation process became more complicated in 2015, when the Government of the Northwest Territories came to the table. “Those were hard, imaginative negotiations,” Steven recalls. The GNWT had a mandate to reduce Thaidene Nëné to 7000 km2, which, as Steven notes, was “very close to the size originally laid out by Parks Canada in the 1970s.” Thankfully, the negotiating team with Steve at the helm was able to convince the GNWT of the value of economic opportunities beyond resource extraction. “Tourism was a burgeoning economy in the NWT at that time, so that helped,” Steven adds. In the end, Thaidene Nëné was only reduced by 7000km2 through negotiations. In spite of delays and obstacles, the negotiating team was successful in their efforts. In August 2019, the Łutsël K’é Dene First Nation designated Thaidene Nëné an Indigenous protected area (IPA) using their own Dene laws. Portions of the IPA are designated a national park reserve by Parks Canada and a territorial protected area and wildlife conservation area by the Government of the Northwest Territories. At final count, the protected area measures 26,376 km2. The creation of Thaidene Nëné is a testament to the determination and unity of vision of the community of Łutsël K’é and the skill of the LKDFN negotiators, but it is also a reflection of the spirit of collaboration between the parties that emerged as negotiations progressed. “Agreements like this don't come without active and willing participation by all the parties,” Steven says. “The negotiating teams for Parks Canada and the GNWT were willing to go that extra mile to do something different, to create a legal contractual agreement that recognizes Indigenous authority and jurisdiction.” “Through this many decades long process, there were a number of very interesting moments and very proud moments,” Steven notes. One such moment came in the early stages of negotiating when the Conservatives were in power. Recognizing the biases of the government under Stephen Harper’s leadership, the negotiating team put forward an economic argument for the proposed protected area. “We considered conservation to be important not just for the sake of the land, but also in terms of the economic impacts for Łutsël K’é,” he explains. The negotiating team was also successful in making the case for a lump sum payment, which the community would match through fundraising to enable Łutsël K’é to fulfill its obligations within Thaidene Nëné. This pooled funding became the Thaidene Nëné Trust, the first of its kind in Canada. The negotiating team very clearly took their marching orders from the community. “Our mandate, which we received from the elders,” Steven says, “was to implement the spirit and intent of the treaties.” To that end, the team sought “shared responsibility, shared authority, and shared jurisdiction,” a goal they repeated again and again to the other parties. Their persistence paid off; Łutsël K’é is not an advisor to, but an equal partner in the management and operations of Thaidene Nëné. The work of the negotiators and the community to protect the land of their ancestors reaches beyond the borders of Thaidene Nëné. It has already benefitted and will continue to benefit other communities in the NWT through the Protected Areas Act that was passed into law in July 2019. Not only was Łutsël K’é an active participant in the advisory committee that guided the drafting of that legislation, but their work at the negotiating table also shaped the letter and the spirit of that law. Łutsël K’é and Thaidene Nëné are also an example nationally. As Steven notes, “In an era where yesterday’s wrongs are starting to be recognized at multiple levels, Thaidene Nëné represents an opportunity to define the treaty relationship that Indigenous nations across the country have with Canada.” He adds, “There is finally an opportunity to implement the sprit and intent of the treaties both within conservation areas and beyond them.” Steven’s efforts to protect Thaidene Nëné were inspired by the elders’ mandate, but he also worked with his three children in mind. Looking to the future, Steven says, “I hope that the land continues feeding us. I hope we can continue to be Dene. I hope we can continue to keep the language alive, that we can tell the stories of the land in the language, in Dënesųłı̨né.” Steven also hopes that the economic projections the negotiating team and their advisors made become reality. “I hope Thaidene Nëné spells prosperity for our people.” This is part of a series of profiles about the staff, leaders, and community members who are hard at work implementing Łutsël K’é Dene First Nation's vision for the Thaidene Nëné Indigenous Protected Area. You can read the other profiles here.  Addie Jonasson was born Adeline Boucher in a tent on Tędhul Dezé (Snowdrift River) in the fall time. For the first eight years of her life, she lived on the land with her parents, Joe Boucher and Judith Rose Laloche, and her siblings, Albert, Ernest, Fred, John, and Samuel. In the winter, the family stayed at Snowdrift. In the summer, though, they would travel around the lake. “The deep connection that I have to the land,” Addie explains, “is because my parents taught me their traditions. They passed along the knowledge.”
Addie’s first language is Dënesųłıné yatı. It was only when she was taken to residential school at eight years old that she learned to speak English. Though they weren’t allowed to speak their Indigenous languages while at school, Addie recalls finding ways to speak the language with the other kids from her community. “Most of us that went to school in the 1950s and 1960s kept our language,” she says. Addie attended residential school for 12 years, first in Fort Resolution, then in Fort Smith, before eventually graduating from Akaitcho Hall in Yellowknife. Addie married soon after finishing high school and left the North when her husband, Jerry, who was an aircraft engineer, was offered a job in Ontario. For the next 22 years, the Jonassons lived in Ontario, Manitoba, and Alberta. While Jerry worked on planes, Addie pursued a career in social work. The couple also raised two children: Laurice and Jennifer. In 1992, there was an opening in Łutsël K’é for a community social services worker. “I wanted to come back,” Addie remembers. “I missed home. I missed my roots. I especially missed the lake, the water, the space.” Addie, Jerry, and their children packed their bags and moved north. In addition to her work in social services, Addie has served her community as an elected official. She was chief of the Łutsël K’é Dene First Nation from 2006-2008 and a councillor from 2004-2006 and 2014-2020. It was while she was chief that Łutsël K’é signed a memorandum of understanding with the Government of Canada to advance work on creating a national park on the East Arm of Tu Nedhé (Great Slave Lake). Addie has supported Thaidene Nëné in other ways. In 2009, she answered a call for committee members for the Thaidene Nëné Advisory Committee. “The committee helped to make sure that we protected the area, the land, the water, the animals. We wanted to make sure that our way of life wasn’t disrupted, so we would continue to live as we have living since time immemorial.” Most recently, Addie was appointed to Thaidene Nëné Xá Dá Yáłtı, the management board for the Thaidene Nëné Indigenous Protected Area. (Xá Dá Yáłtı means those who speak for Thaidene Nëné in Dënesųłıné.) Along with the other appointees, over the coming months and years, Addie will provide strategic guidance to the parties (LKDFN, Parks Canada, and the GNWT) as they implement Łutsël K’é's vision for Thaidene Nëné. Addie speaks with a quiet passion about the need to protect the land of her ancestors, to ensure that the beautiful, peaceful, and abundant land that has sustained her people for millennia will be there for future generations. In her words, “When I talk about the land, I think about my grandparents who lived out on the land year-round. I want to make sure that our grandkids and great-grandkids have something to rely on, something to sustain them.” Addie has seen first hand what can happen without such protections. In the early 1970s, Addie and her family were living in Sioux Narrows. “One day, we were driving towards Dryden and we passed the Wabagoon River. The river was full of suds. That was pollution from the pulp mills. That memory has stayed with me. I never want to see anything like that happen to our lakes and rivers.” Addie sees Thaidene Nëné as an opportunity to invest in the land in the way that is different. “We’re not investing in a mine,” she says. “We are investing in the beauty of the land.” Creating an Indigenous protected area, which will attract people from across the territory and around the world, Addie believes, will sustain her community and its members in a way that the mines cannot. “Thaidene Nëné,” she notes, “will be here forever.” Addie invites visitors to experience the pristine beauty of her homeland. “Sit down by the shoreline. See the beauty, feel the tranquility. Experience the peace and the quiet. Hear the birds, the ducks. See the muskox, the moose, the bears in there natural habitat.” Do this, Addie says, and you will see why the people of Łutsël K’é are so passionate about Thaidene Nëné. “Our ancestors chose the best place for us. I say thank you to them all the time.” This is the ninth in a series of profiles about the staff, leaders, and community members who are hard at work implementing Łutsël K’é Dene First Nation's vision for the Thaidene Nëné Indigenous Protected Area. You can read the other profiles here.  Raised in Winnipeg, MB, Steve Ellis first came to Łutsël K’é as a Masters student in 1999. He was supposed to only be in the community for a few months, conducting research about environmental assessment, but as he tells it, “I made myself somewhat useful, so I ended up sticking around.” Steve, who is Chinese/Scottish, was hired on to the Wildlife, Lands, and Environment Department, eventually becoming the manager. Joined in Łutsël K’é by his partner, Tracey, in 2000, the couple and the three children that followed called the community home until 2013, when they moved to Yellowknife (the family keeps a home in Łutsël K’é, so they can go back whenever they want).
Steve describes his time in Łutsël K’é as a second childhood. Though he had done lots of canoeing and hiking before moving to the community, he had not lived off the land in the way Łutsël K’é Dene do. Thankfully, the Boucher and Catholique families took young Steve under their wings and “showed him the ropes.” “I am who I am today,” he explains, “because of those two childhoods: The childhood I had with my actual parents and the second childhood I had with the community.” Living in Łutsël K’é, Steve came to know and love many places in Thaidene Nëné. Two places deserve special mention. A massive lake that straddles the tree line, Ɂedacho Kúe (Artillery Lake) is rich with important cultural and historic sites. “It is a spectacular area with deep history. You can feel the presence of generations of people,” Steve notes. Steve also has fond memories of travelling on Tędhul Dezé (Snowdrift River) with Tracey and their eldest son Hawke when he was still in diapers. A meandering river with lovely sandbars, the Snowdrift, in Steve’s estimation, is “the perfect family float.” Steve has been involved with Thaidene Nëné since the early 2000s in variety of different capacities. In the wake of the diamond staking rush, the community was exploring conservation as a solution to its concerns about mining encroachment. As the manager of Wildlife, Lands, and Environment, it was Steve’s responsibility to coordinate and facilitate those initial conversations with the elders and the community. As things became more formalized, Steve became “the” Thaidene Nëné person for LKDFN. In 2010, he was named to the negotiating team, working alongside Steven Nitah and Larry Innes to ensure the establishment agreements reflected and respected Łutsël K’é’s vision for and responsibilities within Thaidene Nëné. Following the signing ceremony in 2019, Steve transitioned to the role of advisor to the First Nation on implementation. Continuity is important between negotiations and implementation. The intimate knowledge that negotiators have of the agreements is invaluable in providing guidance to the parties as they seek to fulfill the letter and the spirit of the agreements. Łutsël K’é is unique among the three parties in that it is the only one to have a negotiator on its implementation team. So what does Steve’s position look like day-to-day? First and foremost, he is responsible for protecting the agreements and ensuring they are being followed. In his words, “I play an important role in educating the parties. Unfortunately, sometimes that also means reminding the parties what they agreed to.” Steve has a number of other roles as well. He does external relations work with the other parties. He is supporting the development of the governance approach. He also advises the Thaidene Nëné manager on big picture things like strategic planning, budgeting, and annual workplans. Lastly, he is responsible for overseeing funding and managing relationships with funders. Steve has been involved with the process long enough that he can shed some light on the why and how of LKDFN’s success in realizing their goal to protect Thaidene Nëné. Statistically, Steve notes, Łutsël K’é is like most other northern communities: it struggles with things like poverty, substance abuse, overcrowding. For many communities, there is no clear pathway out of this situation. Łutsël K’é is fortunate to be located in a place that is beautiful and accessible, but more importantly a place that Parks Canada has had an interest in for a half-century. Furthermore, while there may be divisions within the community, by and large, Łutsël K’é Dene share a commitment to protecting their land, maintaining their authority over their land, and ensuring the continuation of culture and lifestyle as land-based people. According to Steve, “This consistency of vision has allowed Łutsël K’é to achieve its goals as a community.” If you’re familiar at all with the strategic plan that the Łutsël K’é Dene First Nation developed this past year for Thaidene Nëné, you will know that the first goal is: Łutsël K’é leading. And the community is doing just that. They are the only one of the three parties with staff on the ground, staff who, in spite of the newness of the Indigenous Protected Area and the pandemic, have been busy establishing systems and delivering programming. Steve notes that the impact of this leadership is palpable in the community: “You can see it in the ownership the community has of the Thaidene Nëné office. You can see it in relationship to Frontier Lodge. You can see it in the activity in the community in relation to Thaidene Nëné.” The community’s leadership has import beyond the boundaries of Thaidene Nëné. To borrow from Steve, “Through Thaidene Nëné, Łutsël K’é is re-setting the power dynamics with crown governments.” When Steve looks to the future, he sees Łutsël K’é continuing to lead the management and operations of Thaidene Nëné in partnership with Parks Canada and the GNWT. He sees local people involved and engaged in a meaningful way and securing liveliehoods through Thaidene Nëné. He sees young people who can imagine a future for themselves in the community because of the opportunities afforded by Thaidene Nëné. He sees Łutsël K’é as a place that people want to move back to as opposed to a place they want or have to move away from. |
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