I went unfiltered on this popular show! 🎧
Find out my thoughts on Indian Reserves, Political Correctness & Real Estate 🏠
I was recently invited on The Tom Storey Show to discuss the Indian Reserve system—its origins, its impact on real estate, and how it ties into the broader Canadian housing crisis. Tom and Steve weren’t performative or pandering—just genuinely curious and eager to understand how the system actually works.
So I told them the truth: the Indian Reserve system was never meant to help us succeed. It was built to contain us. And in many ways, it’s still doing exactly that.
Let’s Be Honest About the Origins
Let’s start with Joseph Trutch, BC’s first Lieutenant Governor, and one of the most overtly racist architects of the province’s early Indian policy. He famously refused to recognize Indigenous land title, shrank reserves to a fraction of their size, and dismissed Indigenous people as “savages.” And he’s not some fringe historical figure—his name was on bridges and roads until very recently.
While other provinces signed treaties (however flawed), British Columbia chose to pretend Indigenous title didn’t exist at all. Most of BC remains unceded. And despite all the “land acknowledgments” today, we’re still living in the legal and economic mess that Trutch left behind.
The Anticipatory Reserve Dream (That Never Came True)
Not all historical ideas were malicious. Tommy Douglas, often hailed as the father of Canadian Medicare, once advocated for anticipatory reserves—larger land allocations that would account for Indigenous population growth. The concept was rooted in future-thinking: give communities space to expand and thrive.
But here’s the catch: those anticipatory reserves never materialized. What we got instead were small, fragmented parcels of land with limited infrastructure, zero economic base, and few development rights. We were boxed in—literally and legally.
Why Don’t We Just Build?
Tom and Steve asked a fair question: If housing is such a crisis, why don’t more communities just build?
Well, imagine trying to build in a system where:
You don’t own the land (the Crown does),
You can’t get a mortgage (no collateral),
Your development is governed by Indian Act bureaucracy, not municipal zoning,
And even if you do build, you can’t sell—only lease.
Now add in the cultural obligation to think seven generations ahead, and you start to see the complexity. We’re told to modernize—but when we try, we’re handcuffed by colonial legislation and underfunded by governments that have never truly prioritized our communities.
The 99-Year Lease Illusion
You’ve probably seen Indigenous communities leasing land for commercial or residential development—sometimes for 99 years. On the surface, it looks like economic development. But here’s the problem: those deals rarely benefit the actual members.
In many cases, the revenue is locked up in administrative processes, or captured by third parties. Community members can’t build wealth through property ownership the way other Canadians can.
Let’s call it what it is: a Band-Aid solution that enriches developers, not Indigenous families.
Chawathil’s Path Forward
In my community of Chawathil First Nation, we’re trying to flip the script. On one of our reserves, we’ve taken direct control over development. We’re building 31 new homes. We’ve partnered with BC Housing—a provincial agency that technically doesn’t even have jurisdiction on reserve land—but they choose to. They are also building to code, something we have not seen on-reserve historically.
This kind of investment hasn’t come from the federal government. For 40+ years, they’ve funded Indigenous housing to just barely meet the minimum. We were given enough to put up walls—but not enough to finish the basement or install proper ventilation. It was housing designed to fail. And for decades, it did.
BC Housing, under Premier John Horgan, then afterwards David Eby, has stepped in—not because they have to, but because they recognize that Indigenous people are drastically overrepresented in homelessness and incarceration. The solution? Let people come home. But that only works if there’s actually a home to return to.
Our community is also proudly installing proper sewage and water systems, and creating parks, childcare, and expanding our cultural center.
The Language Debate Is a Distraction
We also touched on the constant shifts in terminology—Indian, Native, Aboriginal, First Nations, Indigenous. Here’s the truth: none of those changes were ever driven by individual First Nation communities. They were driven by governments and institutions trying to stay politically correct.
In my community, people still say “Indian.” That’s what’s printed on our status cards. That’s what’s written in the Indian Act. It’s not the word that hurts—it’s the system that still governs our lives under a 19th-century law that treats us like wards of the Crown.
Why It Matters for Real Estate—and for Canada
Real estate agents and developers in BC are starting to work more with Indigenous communities. That’s a good thing. But you need to understand that when you step onto reserve or treaty land, you’re not just dealing with a different jurisdiction—you’re stepping into a different worldview, one shaped by colonization, cultural preservation, and resistance.
We’re not opposed to development. We’re opposed to development that extracts wealth and leaves members behind.
If we want to close the gap in housing, health, and economic opportunity, we need to challenge the very foundation of the reserve system itself. That means rethinking how land is held, how housing is funded, and how Indigenous communities are allowed to govern themselves.
Thanks again to Tom and Steve for creating space for this conversation. Let’s keep pushing it forward—even when it gets uncomfortable.