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April 2008 issue	In this issue Table of Contents Feature: Polar vision Feature: Carbon cemetery Feature: North Shore highway The Inside Story Editor's Notebook Reverberations Explorer À la carte Mosaic

Neither Bertha nor her sister Mabel are mollified by a set of community-legislated guarantees under which the new Tsawwassen government must manage treaty assets in the interest of all members. They say there are already "haves and have-nots" in the current system, a problem that will be entrenched under the treaty.

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Tsawwassen’s leadership is, of course, drawn from a limited number of people, many of whom are related. As in any small community in Canada, someone who is not part of the in-crowd feels any cold shoulder — real or imagined — intensely. And like many politicians in small jurisdictions, Baird prefers not to criticize her opponents, saying she hopes the treaty will help heal the divide rather than widen it. She understands that dismissing concerns won’t help and that there is real and continuing fear in the community that some people will not benefit from the treaty. “Many people are afraid of this sort of change,” she says. “They are afraid our council is going to make things worse.”

It is understandable that the small community is so divided, given the dramatic changes the treaty engenders. This kind of challenge, in my experience, is simply democracy at work. If you don’t like the current government, you hope it loses in the next election. Maybe you run against it, as Bertha did. If you lose and you really don’t like it, you can always leave town. But that’s easier said than done for someone living on reserve. No one wants to leave land that his or her family has lived on for generations.

The treaty could actually complicate this situation if it allows land to be seized for failure to pay property taxes or expropriated for public works. Bertha, like many Tsawwassen residents, currently has what is known as a Certificate of Possession (CP), the closest thing to land ownership someone can enjoy on an Indian reserve. The land on a reserve is still owned by the federal government, but it can, for example, be passed down in a will. The CP that Bertha lives on is a legacy from her great-grandparents that she, in turn, plans to pass on to her children and grandchildren. With a CP, she says, “there’s a sense of generational ownership of the land.” There is also a sense of confidence, because the federal and provincial governments cannot take the land away. But under the treaty, says Bertha, the new Tsawwassen government could.

Baird insists it would never happen. “None of us is interested in doing that to ourselves,” she says. “Just because it happens elsewhere doesn’t mean it should happen here.”

In theory, of course, it could happen. The plan is to minimize the risk of Tsawwassen-owned land falling into outside hands by first offering it for sale to other Tsawwassen members or to the Tsawwassen government, which may choose to purchase it to add to communal lands. Even if it is sold to a non-Tsawwassen person or entity, the land will remain under Tsawwassen government jurisdiction.

“I think we can look after our interests better than the federal government has,” says Baird. “Will we make mistakes? Of course we will. That’s human nature.”

“We should be more afraid of nothing happening,” says Tsawwassen elder Ruth Adams. “That’s what I’m scared of — leaving things this way for the next generation. I want it to be better for our kids. That’s my vision.”

In the meantime, for other First Nations in British Columbia and Canada, the Tsawwassen’s success is cause for both optimism and dismay. It took Baird and her team of negotiators 14 years to reach an agreement. Some First Nations have chosen to avoid the hassle, striking oneoff deals with government rather than signing away their legal rights in a treaty. Others have bypassed government entirely, heading, instead, to the courts to seek legal backing. Many simply continue to work with the devil that they know in INAC.

“I admire people opposed to treaties on principle,” says Baird, “but in Tsawwassen, we don’t have the time to wait and see if something better is coming. This is the best option. We can’t do what we want to do without it.”

If there is a lesson to be learned from the New Zealand experience, time will help to allay fears and erase long-standing misunderstandings about treaties. But if the Tsawwassen are successful in achieving Baird’s vision, it seems likely that by the turn of the next century, the signing of modern treaties will no longer be revolutionary but simply part of the normal political and social fabric of this country.

Katherine Gordon is a writer based on Gabriola Island, B.C. Her third book, Made to Measure: A History of Land Surveying in British Columbia, won the 2007 Roderick Haig-Brown Regional Prize. Marina Dodis is a photographer in Vancouver.

CG In-depth: Landmark land settlement Canada’s first modern, urban treaty gives the Tsawwassen First Nation control of its land and the chance at a prosperous future. Read about both of these historic agreements in this edition of Canadian Geographic in-depth, listen to Tsawwassen's challengers discuss their opposition to the treaty, tell us what you think about the stories about aboriginal treaties in Canada and view slideshows and video of the Tsawwassen community and its culture.