Showing posts with label Songhees Nation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Songhees Nation. Show all posts

Saturday, August 15, 2026

Before We Call It a Giveaway: My Songhees Ancestor, the Douglas Treaties, and Listening to History

 Before We Call It a Giveaway: My Songhees Ancestor, the Douglas Treaties, and Listening to History

By Tina Winterlik aka Zipolita

Sometimes history stops being something you read about and becomes something you realize is sitting inside your own family tree.

That happened to me when I began researching my great-great-grandmother, Theresa Eliza, a Songhees woman who lived on Vancouver Island in the 19th century.

And then there was another branch of the family tree:

My great-great-grandfather, João Ignacio d'Almada, came from the Azores, the Portuguese islands in the Atlantic.

Somewhere in colonial British Columbia, these two worlds met.

A Songhees woman.

A Portuguese immigrant from the Azores.

Their descendants became part of my family.

That makes today's conversations about treaties, land and reconciliation more than an abstract political argument for me.

It makes me want to slow down and listen.

I am not speaking for Songhees Nation

I want to be very clear about something.

I am not speaking for the Songhees Nation.

I have not reached out to Songhees Nation to tell them what they should think or do.

My ancestry does not make me an authority on Songhees history, culture or governance.

The Songhees people speak for themselves.

What I can do is tell my own family story, acknowledge where my ancestors lived, and listen respectfully when Songhees people explain their history and their position today.

Recently, I read an opinion piece by Ron Sam, Songhees Nation Chief and Chief Negotiator for the Te'mexw Treaty Association, responding to criticism of the modern treaty negotiations.

His central message stayed with me:

A treaty should not automatically be described as a giveaway.

That made me think about something we sometimes forget when talking about land.

We are looking at the present.

Our ancestors lived through the beginning of this story.

My great-great-grandmother was alive when Victoria was changing

Theresa Eliza was born around 1836.

That means she was already alive when Fort Victoria was established in 1843.

She was alive when the colonial settlement expanded.

She lived through the devastating smallpox epidemic of 1862.

And she was an adult when the Douglas Treaties were negotiated in 1850.

The dates matter.

They put a human being inside a history that can otherwise become nothing more than names on a government website.

The Douglas Treaties involving the Songhees were signed in April 1850. Federal historical records identify Douglas Treaty No. 1 with the Teechamitsa (Songhees) on April 29, followed the next day by Treaties 2 through 6 involving several Songhees groups and Esquimalt.

These agreements are part of the complicated history underlying today's relationships between First Nations and governments in British Columbia.

And there is something I think every British Columbian should understand:

Those treaties did not happen in an empty landscape.

They happened in Indigenous territories where Indigenous peoples already lived.

What were the Douglas Treaties?

The historical record tells us that James Douglas negotiated agreements with Indigenous Nations around what is now southern Vancouver Island.

The agreements involved land, reserves, compensation and continuing rights to hunt and fish on unoccupied lands.

The historical record is also stark about the material compensation associated with the Songhees agreement. One federal historical account says the Songhees surrendered their title to the District of Victoria in return for 371 blankets and a cap, along with reserve lands and certain continuing rights.

Reading that today, I have questions.

What did the people negotiating understand the agreement to mean?

What did the written English document mean to colonial officials?

What did the Indigenous signatories understand they were agreeing to?

How were concepts of land ownership understood across completely different legal and cultural systems?

And what happened afterward?

Those aren't unreasonable questions.

In fact, they are exactly the questions we should be asking if we want to understand reconciliation honestly.

Then came the Indian Act

My great-great-grandmother Theresa Eliza later married my Portuguese/Azorean ancestor.

Her marriage happened in 1876—the same year the federal Indian Act was enacted.

That coincidence stopped me in my tracks.

I began wondering what the law meant for women like her.

The Indian Act created a federal system for regulating First Nations people and reserve lands, and its status provisions contained serious gender discrimination.

Indigenous women who married non-status men could lose their legal status, while the rules historically treated Indigenous men who married non-status women very differently.

In other words, a woman's marriage could become a government decision about whether she remained legally recognized as an Indigenous person.

Imagine that.

A woman is born into a Nation.

She belongs to her family.

She carries her history.

She marries someone from another background.

And a government says her legal identity has changed.

That is not simply genealogy.

That is the power of legislation reaching directly into families.

And my family became a bridge between worlds

My ancestor Theresa was Songhees.

My ancestor João came from the Azores.

Their descendants carried both histories forward.

Portuguese.

Songhees.

Coast Salish territory.

Colonial British Columbia.

Catholic records.

Indigenous family history.

And generations later, here I am trying to piece together what happened.

Genealogy has taught me something important:

History is rarely as tidy as the categories we put on paper.

People married.

People moved.

Languages changed.

Children adapted.

Families survived.

And sometimes government paperwork recorded only a fraction of the lives people were actually living.

So when I hear the word "giveaway"...

I pause.

Not because I think every treaty proposal should be beyond criticism.

It shouldn't.

People have legitimate questions about land, access, governance, development, environmental protection and relationships between neighbouring Nations.

Those questions deserve answers.

But I don't think we should begin with the assumption that reconciliation is a government gift being handed to people who simply showed up and asked for something.

The Te'mexw treaty negotiations have been underway since 1995. They involve Songhees and four other First Nations, Canada and British Columbia, and the process has taken decades. B.C. describes the current agreements as modern treaties intended to establish long-term relationships, governance arrangements, treaty lands and certainty around rights and responsibilities.

That is not an overnight transaction.

It is the latest chapter of a much longer history.

A history that includes the Douglas Treaties.

A history that includes colonial expansion.

A history that includes the Indian Act.

A history that includes Indigenous resistance, survival and adaptation.

And a history that includes families like mine.

We don't have to agree on everything to listen

I don't expect everyone to have the same opinion about the Te'mexw treaties.

I don't.

I think people should read the agreements.

Look at the maps.

Ask questions.

Listen to neighbouring Nations.

Understand public-access provisions.

Understand governance.

Understand what land is actually being discussed.

And then form an opinion.

But there is a difference between questioning a treaty and questioning whether Indigenous people belong here.

The first is democracy.

The second erases history.

B.C.'s current information about the Te'mexw negotiations says treaty lands would be located within the respective Nations' territories and that, in the proposed arrangements, public access and recreational opportunities would continue in the provincial park lands proposed as treaty lands for Songhees and T'Sou-ke, while conservation values would be maintained.

Those details matter.

Facts matter.

And Indigenous voices matter.

I keep thinking about my grandmother's grandmother

I don't know everything about Theresa Eliza.

I don't know what she thought about the arrival of settlers.

I don't know what she thought about the Douglas Treaties.

I don't know what she thought about the church.

I don't know what she told her child about being Songhees.

And I certainly don't want to invent those answers.

What I know is that she lived.

She survived enormous change.

She raised a child.

She married a man whose family came from the Azores.

And her descendants continued.

Her story survived even when much of the surrounding history became buried beneath colonial records and changing identities.

That is why I am listening now.

Maybe reconciliation begins with changing the question

Instead of asking:

"What are they getting?"

Perhaps we should ask:

"What happened here?"

Instead of:

"Why are we giving them land?"

Perhaps:

"What were the original agreements, what happened to them, and what relationship are governments and First Nations trying to establish now?"

Instead of:

"What will they do with it?"

Perhaps:

"What does the proposed treaty actually say?"

Those are very different questions.

They don't require blind agreement.

They require curiosity.

And respect.

My family story is not a claim to speak for anyone

My great-great-grandmother being Songhees does not give me permission to speak for the Songhees Nation.

It gives me a responsibility to be careful with her story.

My great-great-grandfather coming from the Azores doesn't erase her Indigenous ancestry.

And her Songhees ancestry doesn't erase his Portuguese story.

Both are part of the complicated family history that eventually became mine.

Maybe that is one of the lessons genealogy can offer Canada.

Our histories are intertwined.

The Indigenous history of this place did not disappear when settlers arrived.

Portuguese immigrants became part of British Columbia.

Indigenous women married newcomers.

Children crossed cultural worlds.

Families adapted.

And the descendants are still here.

So I am listening

I am listening to Songhees voices.

I am learning about the Douglas Treaties.

I am learning about the Indian Act and what it did to Indigenous families.

I am trying to understand the Te'mexw negotiations without reducing them to slogans.

And I am remembering my great-great-grandmother.

Not as a political talking point.

Not as a convenient ancestry claim.

But as a woman who lived through a period of extraordinary change.

She was here before Canada became the country we know today.

Her descendants are still here.

And that is why, when I hear the word "giveaway," I think we need to be very careful.

Because before we decide that something is being given away, we should learn what happened to it in the first place.

Sometimes reconciliation begins not with having the loudest opinion—but with finally listening to the people whose history we were never taught properly.

🌿

By Tina Winterlik aka Zipolita

This is a personal reflection based on my family-history research. I do not speak for the Songhees Nation or any other First Nation. Where historical records are incomplete or uncertain, I have tried to distinguish documented facts from questions that remain unanswered.





#SongheesNation #DouglasTreaties #TemexwTreaty #IndigenousAncestry #IndianAct #Reconciliation #FirstNations #IndigenousHistory #AzoreanAncestry #BCHistory


Thursday, June 25, 2026

Was My Songhees Great-Great-Grandmother Affected by the Indian Act?

 Was My Songhees Great-Great-Grandmother Affected by the Indian Act?

By Tina Winterlik (Zipolita)

Recently, while researching my family history, I came across a record for my second great-grandmother, Theresa Eliza (Songhees) Enos. According to the records, she was born around 1836 and was a Songhees woman from what is now British Columbia. In 1876, she married João (John) Ignacio d'Almada, a Portuguese immigrant, in Nanaimo.

At first glance, it seemed like a simple family history discovery. But the date immediately caught my attention.

1876 was the same year the Canadian government passed the Indian Act.

The Indian Act was not designed to preserve Indigenous cultures or protect Indigenous rights. It was created to control Indigenous peoples and encourage assimilation into Canadian society. One of the ways it did this was through rules that treated Indigenous women differently from Indigenous men.

For generations, if an Indigenous woman married a non-Indigenous man, she could lose her legal Indian status. Meanwhile, an Indigenous man who married a non-Indigenous woman kept his status, and in many cases his wife gained status through marriage.

This was not simply a bureaucratic change. Women lost legal recognition, community ties, rights, and sometimes even the ability to live in their own communities. Their children and grandchildren often became disconnected from their Indigenous identity in the eyes of the government.

As I looked at my ancestor's marriage record, I began to wonder:

Did Theresa lose legal status because she married a Portuguese man?

Were her children treated differently because of that marriage?

How many descendants were affected by laws designed to reduce the number of legally recognized Indigenous people?

These questions are especially relevant today because Indigenous women have spent decades fighting these discriminatory provisions.

One of the most prominent activists was Jeannette Corbiere Lavell, an Anishinaabe woman who challenged the Indian Act after losing her status when she married a non-Indigenous man in 1970. Although her initial court challenge was unsuccessful, her efforts helped build momentum for reforms.

In 1985, Bill C-31 restored status to many women who had lost it through marriage. However, it created another problem known as the "second-generation cut-off."

Under these rules, status could gradually disappear from future generations when descendants married non-status individuals. Critics argue that the second-generation cut-off functions as an "extinction clause" because it reduces the number of people recognized under the Indian Act over time.

Today, Indigenous leaders and activists continue to push for reforms to eliminate the remaining discriminatory effects of these laws.

Looking at my own family tree, I cannot help but wonder how many Indigenous families have similar stories buried in old records.

A marriage certificate from 1876 may seem like a small historical document. Yet behind it lies a much larger story about identity, belonging, family, and the long-term consequences of government policies.

My great-great-grandmother was Songhees. She married a Portuguese man. More than 150 years later, her descendants are still asking questions about how those laws affected our family.

Genealogy is often described as the study of names and dates. But sometimes it reveals something much deeper. Sometimes it reveals history itself.

Questions for Readers

  1. Have you discovered Indigenous ancestors in your family tree?
  2. Were any of your ancestors affected by the Indian Act or similar laws?
  3. How should Canada address the remaining inequalities in status registration?
  4. Should Indigenous identity be determined by communities rather than federal legislation?
  5. What role can genealogy play in uncovering forgotten histories?

Quick Quiz

  1. In what year was the Indian Act passed? a) 1867 b) 1876 c) 1901 d) 1985

  2. What happened to many Indigenous women who married non-Indigenous men under the Indian Act? a) Nothing changed b) They gained additional rights c) They could lose their legal status d) They automatically became chiefs

  3. What was Bill C-31 designed to address? a) Fishing rights b) Gender discrimination in status registration c) Taxation d) Immigration

  4. What is the second-generation cut-off? a) A census rule b) A treaty provision c) A registration rule that can eliminate status over generations d) A land claim process

Answers: 1-b, 2-c, 3-b, 4-c


#Songhees #SongheesNation #IndigenousHistory #FirstNations #IndigenousWomen #IndianAct #BillC31 #SecondGenerationCutOff #Decolonization #FamilyHistory #Genealogy #Ancestry #CanadianHistory #BCHistory #VancouverIslandHistory

Wednesday, November 12, 2025

Rediscovering Mary Ann Poirier — A Voice Restored

 🌸 Rediscovering Mary Ann Poirier — A Voice Restored

By Tina Winterlik / Zipolita

For a long time, Mary Ann Poirier was almost invisible in the records — a name scattered across documents, sometimes recorded as Mary Ann Enos after marriage, but her story lost in time. 🌿💛

🕰️ Who She Was

Mary Ann Poirier was born October 1870 in Sooke, British Columbia, daughter of Ellen Brulé and Joseph Poirier. She grew up in a bustling, resilient family, one of many children, some of whom did not survive childhood — a reality of life in the 1800s.

Mary Ann married John Joseph Enos, son of Joseph Enos and Theresa Eliza (Songhees Nation). Together, they had four children, including James Charles Enos, who would later serve in the First World War. 🌺

Through her marriage, Mary Ann connected the French-Indigenous Poirier line with the Songhees-Enos lineage, bridging cultures, families, and histories. She lived through times of great change: migration, colonial pressures, and the everyday struggles of raising a family in early Victoria and Sooke.

🔎 Rediscovering Her Story

About 20 years ago, I began tracing my family tree. At first, it was overwhelming — names repeated, dates shifted, and records were scarce or contradictory. Slowly, Mary Ann Poirier began to emerge not just as a name on a page, but as a real woman, living, loving, and raising children through hardship and resilience.

I learned:

  • Mary Ann’s ancestry was rich with French and Indigenous heritage.
  • She was a central figure in her family, grounding her children with care and strength.
  • Her life was intertwined with broader histories — migration, settlement, and cultural survival on Vancouver Island.

Every detail I uncovered felt like restoring a voice that had been silenced. Each birth certificate, each diary entry, each small record was a thread, weaving her back into the story of our family — and of the communities she touched. 🌿✨

💛 Why This Matters

Mary Ann Poirier reminds us that history is not only what is recorded — it’s also who is remembered. Many women like her were nearly erased from the pages of history, yet their influence shaped generations. By rediscovering her, I honor the lives that came before us and the strength that flows in our veins.

Mary Ann Poirier Enos was a mother, a cultural bridge, and a quiet force of resilience. Her story deserves to be told, remembered, and celebrated.


💡 To future generations:
Never forget the women who came before you. Their lives, their courage, and their care are the roots from which you grow. 🌳💖


Tuesday, July 29, 2025

While They Fought Fascists in the East, We Were Surviving in the West

 While They Fought Fascists in the East, We Were Surviving in the West

By Tina Winterlik aka Zipolita


Have you heard of the Christie Pits Riot?

In 1933, in Toronto, Jewish and Italian youth stood up to local fascists waving swastikas during a baseball game. Charlie Angus recently wrote about it, calling it “Canada’s first battle with fascists.” And it was — a fierce, public stand against hate.

But I live in British Columbia. And my family wasn’t in the headlines — we were surviving in the shadows.

That same year, 1933, my mother was just 3 years old, living in Vancouver. Her family struggled so badly, she sometimes had to go next door to ask for bread. There was no money, no support — just a garden, hard work, and the hope that someone might share.


🌿 A Family Story Rooted in the Land and Sea

My roots go back far — deep into the land and across oceans:

  • In the late 1800s, my Portuguese (Azores) great-great-grandfather married my Songhees great-great-grandmother.
  • Their son married a Kalapuya-Iroquois-French Canadian Indigenous woman.
  • That union brought forth my grandfather — who later married a Swedish woman, and together, they built a home on Ross Street & 51st in Vancouver.
  • My grandfather, dark-skinned with beautiful full lips and a glass eye, worked aboard ships like the Empress of Russia, sailing to Japan and beyond.

I always wondered why he left. Was it racism? No work? Or something else no one dared speak of?

We were a family of survivors, of mixed heritage and many nations, trying to belong in a country that often told us we didn’t.


🔥 Racism Was Here Too

While Toronto battled fascists in a ballpark, Vancouver was already steeped in racism:

  • Chinese, Japanese, and South Asian Canadians were excluded, segregated, and harassed.
  • Indigenous children, like my ancestors, were being forced into residential schools, stripped of language, ceremony, and family.
  • White-only signs, land restrictions, and wage discrimination were normal.
  • The 1923 Chinese Exclusion Act was still in effect. The Komagata Maru tragedy was only 19 years earlier.
  • People like my grandfather, who didn’t look white, often couldn’t get jobs — no matter how hard they tried.

Even gardening — something my Swedish grandmother loved deeply — was an act of defiance. Growing food, growing beauty, when everything around said: you don’t belong.


💔 The Silence That Followed

No one ever told me how my grandfather lost his eye.
Or how my grandmother managed with so little.
Or what it meant to be a dark-skinned man married to a white woman, raising mixed children in a racist city.

But I can feel it in the silences.

And in the strength that runs through me.


✊ We Were All Fighting — Just in Different Ways

Christie Pits was loud. Public. Remembered.

But not all resistance looks like a riot.

Some of it looks like:

  • Asking for bread and still keeping your dignity.
  • Marrying across racial lines, even when society condemned it.
  • Sailing into dangerous waters just to feed your family.
  • Planting a garden, even when your hands are tired and your heart is heavy.

We were surviving.
And that is its own form of defiance.


🕊️ Let’s Remember All the Stories

As Charlie Angus reminds us, we must remember the battles we fought — and those we’re still fighting.

But let’s also remember the ones that never made the papers.

Because history isn’t just made by the loudest riots — it’s made by the quiet survivors, the mothers with gardens, the children asking for bread.

We were here too.


© 2025 Tina Winterlik aka Zipolita
Blog: tinawinterlik.blogspot.com
Instagram: @zipolita
Twitter/X: @zipolita
Online CV: zipolitazcv.blogspot.com