In 1885, an amendment to Canada’s Indian Act banned the traditional practice of potlatch by Indigenous peoples, and remained in place for the next six decades.
Even if you were aware of the ban and its impact on Indigenous culture and communities, you may not have known about its economic impacts in particular. ““Potlatches were to take care of people in the community, and our families—the word potlatch means ‘to give,’” says Ivy Peers over a video call from her home in Alert Bay, Cormorant Island, where she works with U’mista Cultural Centre, and serves as a member of council with ‘Namgis First Nation.
“Hereditary chiefs—we say 'Ug̱wamey in our language—had to be businessmen and have a large amount of money in order to have potlatches. Basically, it's embedded in Indigenous people to learn how to make an excess amount of money, in order to give to our families and communities.”
For generations, the loss of the potlatch undermined the role of hereditary chiefs. For Ivy’s family, focusing on business became a way to adapt to—and eventually thrive within—settler culture.
“When the 'Namgis Territory was first settled, our people were traders, and then business people,” says Peers. “They always found ways to have their businesses aligned with the economy in the time setting. The Cook Store sold a lot of Hudson's Bay blankets during that time. Then my mom and auntie ran taxi businesses, and my aunt also ran a restaurant. My uncle started a business as well, and he owns a local store here now, called the Cook Store. My godmother owned her own restaurant as well, and it was called the Cook Shack.”
The theme of family is a through line in Ivy’s explanation of the role of the local economy in her life, and that of community. “Basically, we’ve been raised to be entrepreneurs. It runs in our family. We're keeping along the lines of what our great grandparents taught us and our grandparents.”
During Covid, Ivy was able to transform this commitment to her ancestral heritage into an opportunity to forge a reconnection between commerce and culture, in order to provide for herself, her family, and her community, mirroring the role of the potlatch generations prior.
“For about a year, before I was elected to Council, I would sell dry goods out of my house. I would buy products down island, and come back home and sell them to people with lower incomes, like elders and families, just below the store value, but enough for me to make a dollar or two. They were able to buy dry goods where it wasn't denting their pockets as much.”
With a focus on economic self-determination for herself and her community, today Ivy is using skills and knowledge learned from her family, as well as from the broader rural island and coastal community, with the intent to revive the potlatch. In April 2023, she spoke on a panel at the RIEP Forum on Gabriola Island on Indigenous business and reconciliation; later that summer, she took the Rising Tide Business Services SkillsUp training for Indigenous youth, women, and people with disabilities in Alert Bay. “I wanted to find a way to generate a lot of money to have potlatches in my family for my late brother, and my late cousin who was our future hereditary chief.”
“I'm teaching myself how to use digital tools to transfer my artwork onto jewelry, and so it can be used for tattoos and for prints. My dad is a jewelry maker, and since I was a little girl he has taught me our traditional artwork. He gifted me his jewelry making block, and then I bought myself an engraver.”
“If we have a lot of art and can auction it or sell it, we would be able to generate wealth for potlatches so that we can lay our loved ones to rest,” Ivy said. “After doing the SkillsUp training, I wrote a successful proposal for a First People's Cultural Council grant—now I can get the remainder of the tools that I need for creating jewelry.”
In January, 2024, Ivy joined the RIEP Board of Directors. She acknowledges that, wearing the hats of active parent, elected community leader, full-time cultural programmer, entrepreneur, and emerging artist, she has precious little bandwidth for another commitment. But RIEP’s role in the broader rural island community reflects many of the values that have always resonated to her, and to her family.
“I was a little hesitant at first, but I'm really grateful for the opportunity to sit on the Board. I definitely love networking with RIEP. I'm learning a lot, from different individuals from different communities about our similarities, how we can build on each others' strengths, and enhance each others’ commitments to our communities.”
