June 21 — National Indigenous Peoples Day

Occupying their house without shame, confining them to a shed. Exploiting their garden and orchard, feeding on its fruits without ever sharing. And after years of living this way—together yet apart—you in prosperity, they in poverty—you still would not know them. You would know neither their history, nor their values, nor their aspirations. You would not know them because you chose to ignore them. You would see them but not look at them; hear them but not listen. They would have become a stranger in their own home—and you would now be king.

This horror scenario may seem exaggerated, even implausible. And yet, this is in part how we, as Western societies, have treated Indigenous Peoples. For over 400 years, we have occupied territories they inhabited for millennia. Some will argue that this is simply the course of history—built on the opposition between colonizers and colonized, conquerors and conquered. But no. Our world is one of relationships, constantly evolving, and over time it is collectively that we decide the nature of those relationships.

As architects, we have the privilege of working regularly with Indigenous communities, and each time we are moved—often deeply—by the richness of their inspiring cultures. Opening our hearts to Indigenous worldviews is opening ourselves to a way of life where culture and nature are inseparable, where respect for the environment is lived daily, where the right to pollute one’s neighbour cannot be bought, and where the individual never outweighs the community. Here and elsewhere, in the face of climate change, we are beginning to realize that certain ancestral practices, ways of living, and ways of being are far better suited to the environmental challenges we now face. For decades, Indigenous communities—rooted in their cultures and lived experience—have warned us about the catastrophic impacts of climate change. Sadly, it is only now, under the pressure of urgency, that we realize we should have listened, understood, and learned from their knowledge.

We can only feel deep admiration for First Nations, Inuit, and Métis Peoples. Despite centuries of oppression, forced assimilation, systemic poverty, and imposed ways of life, they have protected and preserved their traditions. They have kept their cultures and languages alive. Yet, the work is far from complete.

Speeches, laws, and official apologies matter—but they cannot heal everything. It is through our individual actions and words that prejudice can truly be dismantled and that the wounds of the past may one day soften—not disappear, but begin to heal. It is our responsibility to recognize the immense richness of Indigenous Peoples, first individually, so that collectively we may support the protection and celebration of their traditions, cultures, and ways of life. Above all, it is time to listen and to open ourselves—because learning to know one another is learning to respect one another, and ensuring there are never again stolen childhoods or tragedies like Joyce’s.