Featuring an ethnohistory of two Coast Salish communities — the Suquamish Tribe in Washington State and the W̱SÁNEĆ Nation in British Columbia — this dissertation is a transborder study of Indigenous shellfish harvesting and foreshore rights in the Salish Sea across the twentieth century. It explores the history of the interface between land and sea within the context of treaty rights to resources and Indigenous nations’ sovereignty over marine habitats. This study also turns the ethnographic lens on the settler population. Using tools offered by recent scholarship on settler colonialism, it helps explain why the general public has resisted treaty and Aboriginal rights to fisheries and other resources. This dissertation also reveals Coast Salish nations’ responses to settler encroachment of their foreshores and state disruption of their management of the marine environment throughout the twentieth century and offers two community studies to illustrate how local Indigenous communities have re-shaped relationships between Indigenous peoples and settlers on the Salish Sea. The first study examines Suquamish’s right to shellfish under the Point Elliott Treaty and affirmed by the 1994 Rafeedie decision, as well as the interrelated 1980s tidelands case for ownership of the beaches attached to the Port Madison Reservation. The second examines W̱SÁNEĆ people’s defense of Saanichton Bay from a marina development, when the SȾÁ,UTW̱ (Tsawout) community wielded its Douglas Treaty rights in Claxton v. Saanichton Marina, 1987. Utilising Karl Jacoby’s concept of a “moral ecology,” this study argues that by ignoring Indigenous Knowledge regarding marine resource management, and by creating an overly complex regulatory scheme guided by principles of capitalism, settler officials on both sides of the border missed opportunities to avoid some of the greatest challenges to marine health and resource survival in the Salish Sea. / Graduate / 2023-04-12

Duwamish people are “the People of the Inside,” “the Salmon People”—Coast Salish people who occupied a large territory inside the Olympic Mountains and the Cascade range. Ninety Longhouses were situated where Seattle and several neighbouring cities now stand. Today, over six hundred Duwamish are urban Indigenous people without legal recognition as an American Indian tribe, still battling for rights promised by the Point Elliott Treaty of 1855. Portrayals of Duwamish history since the time of colonization are often incomplete or incorrect. A tribe member myself, I set out to record and present family stories concerning the period 1850 to the present from participants from six Duwamish families. I gathered histories told in the words of the people whose family experiences they are. It is history from a Duwamish perspective, in Duwamish voices. Collected family stories are recorded in the appendices to my dissertation. In my ethnographic study, I inquire as to what strengths have carried Duwamish people through their experiences since colonization. The stories reveal beliefs and practices which have supported the Duwamish people, and hopes for the future. Data was gathered using multiple methods, including fieldwork—visiting a master weaver; attending tribal meetings; and visiting historic sites—reading existing documents by Duwamish authors and by settlers, and interviewing, including looking at photos to elicit information. Five themes emerged from the data: Finding a True History; What Made Them Strong; Intermarriage; Working for the People; and Working with the Youth. These themes together constitute what I term the Indigenous Star of Resilience (see Figure One in Chapter Six). For me, this study has truly been swit ulis uyayus—“work that the Creator has wrapped around me” (Vi Hilbert, quoted in Yoder, 2004); work that is a gift. / Graduate / 0727 / 0452 / 0740 / juliemorgana@yahoo.ca

This thesis draws on a community-engaged digital-mapping project with the Vancouver Island Coast Salish community of the Stz’uminus First Nation. In this paper, I discuss the ways in which conventional cartographic representations of Indigenous peoples are laden with methodological and visual assumptions that position Indigenous peoples’ perspectives, stories, and experiences within test-, proof-, and boundary-driven legal and Eurocentric contexts. In contrast, I frame this project’s methodology and digital mapping tools as an effort to map a depth of place, the emotional, spiritual, experiential, and kin-based cultural context that is routinely glossed over in conventional mapping practices. I argue elders’ place-based stories, when recorded on video and embedded in a digital map, produce a space for the “unmappable,” that which cannot, or will not, be expressed within the constructs of a static two-dimensional map. This thesis also describes a refusal to steep maps too deeply in cultural context for a public audience. I detail the conversations that emerged in response to a set of deeply spiritual, cultural, and personal stories to mark how the presence of Coast Salish law, customs, power structures, varying intra-community perspectives, and refusal came to bear on the production of “blank space” (interpreted colonially and legally as terra nullius) in this project’s cartographic representation. Finally, I conclude that Coast Salish sharing customs are embedded within networks of Coast Salish customary legal traditions, which fundamentally affects tensions that arise between storytelling and digital mapping technologies, between academic and community accountabilities, and between collective and individual consent. / Graduate / 2019-10-13

The reason for this story was to investigate a narrative that is important to the identity of North America’s Pacific Northwest Coast – a narrative that revolves around wild salmon, a narrative that always seemed too simple to me, a narrative that gives salmon a mythical status, and yet what does the average person know about this fish other than it floods grocery stores in fall and tastes good. How do we know this fish that supposedly defines the natural world of this place? I began my research as a science writer, inspired by John Steinbeck’s The Log from the Sea of Cortez, in which he writes that the best way to achieve reality is by combining narrative with scientific data. So I went looking for a different story from the one most people read about in popular media, a story that’s overwhelmingly about conflict: I searched for a narrative that combines the science of what we know about salmon and a story of the scientists who study the fish, either directly or indirectly. I tried to follow Steinbeck’s example and include the narrative journeys we take in understanding the world around us, the journeys that rarely make it into scientific journals. I went on about eight field trips with biology, ecology, and archaeology lab teams from the University of British Columbia and Simon Fraser University in Vancouver, with the Department of Fisheries and Oceans onboard the Canadian Coast Guard Ship the W.E. Ricker, and an archaeological crew from the Laich-Kwil-Tach Treaty Society in Campbell River, B.C. At the same time, I was reading a number of things, including a 1938 dissertation by anthropologist Homer Barnett from the University of Oregon titled The Nature and Function of the Potlatch, a 2011 book by economist Ronald Trosper at the University of Arizona, Resilience, Reciprocity and Ecological Economics, and works by psychologist Douglas Medin at Northwestern University and anthropologist Scott Atran at the University of Michigan, written over the past two decades, particular paying attention to their writings on taxonomy and folkbiology. My conclusions surprised me, a little. / Graduate / 0329 / 0324 / 0391

The reason for this story was to investigate a narrative that is important to the identity of North America’s Pacific Northwest Coast – a narrative that revolves around wild salmon, a narrative that always seemed too simple to me, a narrative that gives salmon a mythical status, and yet what does the average person know about this fish other than it floods grocery stores in fall and tastes good. How do we know this fish that supposedly defines the natural world of this place? I began my research as a science writer, inspired by John Steinbeck’s The Log from the Sea of Cortez, in which he writes that the best way to achieve reality is by combining narrative with scientific data. So I went looking for a different story from the one most people read about in popular media, a story that’s overwhelmingly about conflict: I searched for a narrative that combines the science of what we know about salmon and a story of the scientists who study the fish, either directly or indirectly. I tried to follow Steinbeck’s example and include the narrative journeys we take in understanding the world around us, the journeys that rarely make it into scientific journals. I went on about eight field trips with biology, ecology, and archaeology lab teams from the University of British Columbia and Simon Fraser University in Vancouver, with the Department of Fisheries and Oceans onboard the Canadian Coast Guard Ship the W.E. Ricker, and an archaeological crew from the Laich-Kwil-Tach Treaty Society in Campbell River, B.C. At the same time, I was reading a number of things, including a 1938 dissertation by anthropologist Homer Barnett from the University of Oregon titled The Nature and Function of the Potlatch, a 2011 book by economist Ronald Trosper at the University of Arizona, Resilience, Reciprocity and Ecological Economics, and works by psychologist Douglas Medin at Northwestern University and anthropologist Scott Atran at the University of Michigan, written over the past two decades, particular paying attention to their writings on taxonomy and folkbiology. My conclusions surprised me, a little. / Graduate / 0329 / 0324 / 0391

In the Gulf Islands and Salish Sea Regions of British Columbia the Parks Canada Agency (PCA) currently operates Gulf Islands National Park Reserve (GINPR) and is in the development phase for the proposed Southern Strait of Georgia National Marine Conservation Area Reserve (SSGNMCAR). Protected areas such as these are meant to protect the ecological and cultural heritage of the region on behalf of all Canadians. As the government runs and expands their protected areas in the region it is important to look at their relationship with Indigenous communities in particular, as the PCA mandate requires the agency to work in “partnership” with Indigenous communities (Parks Canada 2017). The region is home to nearly 20 First Nations groups including the three W̱SÁNEĆ First Nations of the W̱SÁNEĆ Leadership Council (WLC). The WLC is an Indigenous government that has publicly stated their perception of a strained relationship with the PCA beginning before the formal establishment of GINPR in 2003. Through historical analysis; interviews with employees from the PCA and members of the W̱SÁNEĆ community; and a review of several aspects of site management and establishment in the region – this thesis explores the changing relationship between the PCA and W̱SÁNEĆ First Nations. Through this thesis I collect and discuss recommendations from W̱SÁNEĆ community members, and develop several myself, for the PCA to consider developing to improve the partnership between the two bodies. Potentially a partnership could lead towards formalized and lasting co-operative decision-making practice in the region’s cultural and natural heritage management. / Graduate

This thesis examines restoration of Garry oak ecosystems in Southwestern British Columbia, Canada. Before the arrival of European settlers, Coast Salish peoples practiced intensive stewardship and cultivation practices that heavily shaped Garry oak ecosystems. These long-standing stewardship practices are responsible for the abundance of culturally important plants found in Garry oak ecosystems today. In addition to their cultural value to Coast Salish peoples, Garry oak ecosystems also support unique biodiversity, including numerous at-risk species. These ecosystems and the values they embody came under threat with the arrival of European settlers, who introduced non-native plants and excluded Coast Salish peoples and their stewardship practices from these ecosystems. Today, Garry oak ecosystems have been reduced to a fraction of their pre-colonial distribution and remaining patches are typically heavily invaded by both native and non-native plants. Their cultural and biological values coupled with ongoing degradation has motivated both Indigenous and non-Indigenous land managers to implement restoration programs in Garry oak ecosystems. To inform future restoration efforts, this thesis examines ecological impacts of a long-term restoration program and a wildfire in a lək̓ʷəŋən Garry oak ecosystem at Mill Hill Regional Park near Langford, British Columbia. In Project 1, vegetation responses to a 13-year invasive species removal program were quantified to determine if native plant populations were successfully bolstered by the removal efforts. In Project 2, impacts of an unintended wildfire on the relative cover of native and non-native plants were examined. This attempted to explore potential ecosystem shifts that may occur as wildfires increase in frequency and severity as predicted by climate models. In Project 1, the greatest change observed after invasive species removal was an increase in other introduced species, while increases in native species were not statistically significant. In Project 2, introduced Anthoxanthum odoratum was facilitated by fire while native Camassia spp. were reduced by it. Taken together, these results demonstrate the complexity of restoring Indigenously managed ecosystems where multiple introduced species have existed for long periods. Invasive species, specifically Anthoxanthum odoratum, showed greater responses to removal efforts and wildfire than native species. Intensive, long-term restoration programs that utilize multiple tools, including low-intensity fire, invasive removal, herbicide, and seeding of native species appear necessary to bolster native species without unintentional facilitation of introduced species. Coast Salish peoples and stewardship practices were integral in maintaining these ecosystems before the arrival of European settlers and should play a key role in their restoration today, though traditional practices will likely need adapted to account for environmental changes caused by colonization. Furthermore, to avoid continuing the cultural damage that began with colonization, it is vital that Coast Salish First Nations lead or be directly involved in restoration of these ecosystems, which continue to hold irreplaceable cultural value. / Graduate / 2023-01-14

The cedar dugout canoe is iconically associated with First Nations peoples of the Pacific Northwest coast, but the vital contribution it made to the economic and social development of British Columbia is historically unrecognized. This beautifully designed and crafted oceangoing vessel, besides being a prized necessity to the maritime First Nations peoples, was an essential transportation link for European colonists. In speed, maneuverability, and carrying capacity it vied with any other seagoing technology of the time. The dugout canoe became an important site of engagement between First Nations peoples and settlers. European produced textual and visual records of the colonial period are examined to analyze the dugout canoe as a site of intercultural interaction with a focus upon the European representation. This research asks: Was the First Nations' dugout canoe essential to colonial development in British Columbia and, if so, were the First Nations acknowledged for this vital contribution? Analysis of primary archival resources (letters and journals), images (photographs, sketches and paintings) and colonial publications, such as the colonial dispatches, memoirs and newspaper accounts, demonstrate that indeed the dugout canoe and First Nations canoeists were essential to the development of the colony of British Columbia. However, these contributions were differentially acknowledged as the colony shifted from a fur trade-oriented operation to a settler-centric development that emphasized the alienation of First Nations’ land for settler use. By focusing research on the dugout canoe and its use and depiction by Europeans, connections between European colonists and First Nations canoeists, navigators and manufacturers are foregrounded. This focus brings together these two key historical players demonstrating their “entangled” nature (Thomas 1991:139) and breaking down “silences” and “trivializations” in history (Trouillot 1995:96), working to build an inclusive and connected history of colonial British Columbia. / Graduate