Tribute to Elder Shane Pointe (Te’ta-in

 A Tribute to Elder Shane Pointe (Te’ta-in)

There are some teachers who teach skills.
And there are others who change the way you see the world.

Elder Shane Pointe was the second kind.

I met him through the carving and reconciliation program at Langara, but to call it a “class” doesn’t come close to the truth of what it was. We didn’t just learn to carve—we were brought into something deeper. Something raw. Something honest.

We carved two panels.
One for the Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women.
One for the children from residential schools who never came home.

It was heavy.
There’s no other word for it.

We cried. Often.
We talked about things most spaces avoid.
We broke the usual rules—because this wasn’t a usual classroom.

We ate together.
Every Friday, we shared a meal before we began.
And then we sat in circle and told the truth.

Elder Shane would drum and chant—deep, powerful, something you didn’t just hear but felt in your chest, in your bones. I can still hear it now… that deep sound that seemed to come from somewhere beyond the room.

His nephew, Aaron Neson Moody—known as Splash—would drum and sing with him. Together, they created something that can’t be easily explained.

You had to be there.

This was also during the time of the pipeline protests. He spoke openly about his worries for his daughter, who was there. At one point, she had been missing for six months. When he finally reached her and asked where she had been, she simply said, “Having fun.” Maybe she didn’t want to worry him.

That honesty—his willingness to share his fears, his humanity—stayed with me.

So did his wisdom.

One day, I told him, “The system is so broken.”

He looked at me and said,
“No. It’s working exactly as it was designed.”

That moment woke me up.

Elder Shane didn’t just teach carving.
He taught truth.
He taught awareness.
He taught us to see clearly, even when what we saw was difficult.

At our final ceremony, when we gifted the carvings, something happened I will never forget. As he drummed, suddenly there was a huge crack of thunder—and the rain poured down. The timing was so powerful it still gives me goosebumps.

You had to be there.

Looking back, I realize he carried a lot. And even years ago, I sensed he was tired. People like him give so much of themselves—to community, to truth, to healing.

Elder Shane Pointe was a respected Elder of both the Musqueam and Squamish Nations, a powerful speaker, teacher, and Knowledge Keeper. His passing is a profound loss to all who learned from him and all who were touched by his presence.

It is also deeply sad that he did not get to see the towers completed—something that mattered, something connected to the future he was helping shape.

But I believe that someone like Elder Shane doesn’t stop working. He simply continues in a different way. Free from the weight of the physical world, still guiding, still present in the teachings he left behind.

We carry him forward now.

In the carvings.
In the stories.
In the truths he wasn’t afraid to speak.

And every time I hear that drum in my memory, I know—
he’s not gone.

He’s just on a different part of the journey.

Funeral and ceremony details will be shared as they become available.

— Tina Winterlik (Zipolita)