NEW ROLE, CONTINUED PURPOSE
MARY CULBERTSON WANTS TO MAKE A DIFFERENCE AS SASKATCHEWAN’S TREATY COMMISSIONER
In February, lawyer Mary Culbertson became Saskatchewan’s new Treaty Commissioner.
She is the province’s first Indigenous woman in the role.
She’s come into it at a critical time for Saskatchewan.
“I really want to work on building relationships, especially in our rural communities. And that takes public education.
“We need to have courageous conversations where people aren’t scared to ask questions. We have to be calm and cautious in how we answer so we can properly educate,” she says.
Saskatchewan Human Rights Commissioner David Arnot calls Culbertson’s appointment an “inspired choice.”
The treaty commissioner’s role is to implement the treaties’ underlying principles, spirit and intent in a modern context.
Mutual respect and benefit are the foundation of the treaty relationship and are included in a list of 16 common principles the Federation of Sovereign Indigenous Nations and federal government agreed to in 1999.
“What we haven’t seen is those principles implemented in a vital way,” says Arnot. “The treaties were fundamentally a blueprint for harmony.” Arnot was the Treaty Commissioner during a pivotal time when discussions between the FSIN, the provincial and national governments created the Statement of Treaty Issues: Treaties as a Bridge to the Future.
The publication outlined ways to build on the treaty partnership in Saskatchewan.
“I believe the Office of the Treaty Commissioner is a key vehicle to assist all Canadians, all Saskatchewanians to move towards reconciliation, which is desperately needed in this country,” says Arnot.
He believes Culbertson is the best woman for the job.
“She has a strong sense of First Nations spirituality and politics. She … knows how courts work and how policies are developed, and how politics can accelerate the implementation of policy.”
••• Culbertson always knew she wanted to be a lawyer.
She remembers watching Dallas and Matlock as a child. She didn’t like the corrupt lead character on Dallas. Matlock was her favourite show.
“He was helping people, solving things — and I always wanted to help people,” she says.
We need to have courageous conversations where people aren’t scared to ask questions. — Mary Culbertson
Her journey has taken her from working in addictions counselling to working as a maximum-security prison guard, before working on residential school claims with Sunchild Law in Battleford. She doesn’t remember all the experiences fondly, but says it all helped shape the emboldened woman she has become.
Culbertson met her children’s father in high school and a relationship quickly blossomed. But she would later finish school as a single parent. She never gave up on her goal of becoming a lawyer.
She attended the Bachelor of Indian Social Work program through what is now First Nations University of Canada, working throughout to support her family.
“You have to — in this day and age, what you get for postsecondary education funding, if you’re lucky to get it from your First Nation, will barely cover your rent.”
During that time, she found love again, but says they were “too young” and the relationship didn’t last.
“I stayed single for a long time (after). He was a great dad and he was a great support,” she recalls.
The two reconciled and became close confidants.
“He was one of my biggest supporters in my life,” she says. He died in a car crash during her second year of law school, a loss she can only describe as a “devastation to our family.”
•••
Culbertson feels like she’s lived two lives, and judging by her career trajectory, she has.
In her late 20s, she took a job counselling problem gamblers for the Prince Albert Grand Council. By the time she left, she had become the acting executive director.
Counselling people about the root causes of their addictions was difficult, as she began to learn about the effects of residential schools.
She saw the root of peoples’ addictions reflected back to her — problems in her community, for friends and family members.
“I knew about residential schools, but I didn’t know the effects … the consequential harms. I didn’t know that that was why some of our communities are so devastated, and why people have the problems they do,” she says.
After a stint with Indigenous Gaming Regulators, she wanted to understand the criminal justice system. She became a corrections worker in Saskatoon while in law school.
She took a guard position with Corrections Canada at Edmonton Max, which she now recalls as “traumatizing.”
She dealt with riots and beatings within the “gang heavy” prison population.
“It’s unnerving, but you get used to it. I also didn’t want it to define me — to be in that state of hyper-vigilance and distrust all the time.”
She and her kids were also homesick, so Culbertson put in for a transfer to the Regional Psychiatric Centre (RPC) in Saskatoon. She was one of a small group of female officers at RPC during a turning point in Canada’s mental health corrections system.
She started there shortly after Ashley Smith was transferred to a psychiatric hospital in eastern Canada. A year later, Smith, who was mentally ill, died in prison.
Patients’ mental health issues at RPC were “the worst of the worst,” she recalls.
“I don’t know if I ever have words to describe how that job was.”
The RPC was mostly full of Indigenous people with mental health issues, she says.
“It’s heartbreaking and it’s sad, but you still have to do your job and (accept) there’s some people that you can never help.”
She faced discrimination, sexism and racism there from coworkers, along with many physical injuries from breaking up fights.
“Being a farm girl sure helped,” she laughs, in her melodic voice.
“Granted, I know that I have not had it as bad as other people who have suffered in that job. That shapes who we are. All our experiences in our lives shape who we are.”
•••
During law school, Culbertson met Eleanore Sunchild of Sunchild Law in Battleford, which resulted in her working on residential school claims with the firm.
It became a journey of personal reconciliation for Culbertson, who had thought she wasn’t ready to take it on.
“It was something I thought I didn’t want to touch … having the truth of your people right in front of your face and having to deal with that.”
Culbertson pauses, choosing her words carefully, as she recalls the truths that struck her the hardest.
“It’s your own people. Knowing that they suffered so much, you get angry; you get sad. It’s a roller coaster of emotions when you first get exposed to the truth of what happened. I don’t think anything in our communities cannot be linked to the harms from residential schools from that era.”
Culbertson’s empathy and understanding for Saskatchewan’s Indigenous people increased tenfold during the claims process.
She’s solemn as she explains: “What did they go home to? Not having parenting skills, not showing people how to love, not showing their children love, or drowning the shame and the hurt of what happened to them in alcohol or drugs or abandonment.”
•••
The mother of four and grandmother to four began her appointment as Treaty Commissioner during a tumultuous time for Saskatchewan.
Her first day on the job was shared with the beginning of Gerald Stanley’s trial in North Battleford. (Stanley was found not guilty in the shooting death of Colten Boushie.)
Culbertson was close to Boushie’s family and attended the preliminary hearings with them.
She says the verdict and the ugliness that emerged during the trial were devastating blows to reconciliation.
“A family will never get their son back. They just feel like they got told that it was okay. It doesn’t feel good to be told that your life isn’t worth much,” she says.
“We all have to do better. Especially these governments — they’re the leaders. Leadership is a reflection of many of the people. But we just have to stand up and stand together and stand stronger. And that’s how you build strong communities.”
Her goals over the next three years to build those strong communities include expanding the speakers’ bureau (a key communication tool) — from the top of the province to the bottom, through all the treaty territories — including all the linguistic groups.
She also wants to expand the elder base, the “knowledge keepers” from which the Office of the Treaty Commissioner seeks counsel.
“Oral history is the foundation of the treaties and that oral history comes from the elders,” Culbertson says.
She would like to see the phasing in or a self-governance system based on communities’ needs, taking proper resources into account.
Culbertson comes from a family of strong political leaders, many of whom helped create the province’s Indigenous advocacy institutions. She grew up surrounded by conversations about rights and justice, along with a strong understanding of Indigenous spirituality.
“I was fortunate to have those people as my blood and as my family members,” she says.
Arnot says the biggest challenges she’ll face are building relationships between government and the FSIN to renew treaty table discussions. He’s confident her background has well prepared her for the work ahead.
“She’s got the capability to influence them. I’m looking forward to a positive, constructive mandate,” he says, adding that having a woman’s perspective will be a real catalyst for change.
“I hope it inspires First Nations women to become involved in politics and leadership at the community level, provincially and nationally.”
Culbertson says the reconciliation work done thus far gives her hope. Saskatoon is a leading example of reconciliation efforts and she points to excellent work underway elsewhere in the province.
“I see things changing — slowly, but they’re changing.”