In Remembrance

It amazes me how certain moments become etched in our memory. Some encounters drift away like smoke, while others settle deep within us—unshakable, permanent.

Ten years ago, while visiting the Nation of Halalt to provide oral health services, I was invited to sit with the Elders for their Elders’ Lunch. We shared a meal, exchanged stories, and I introduced myself—who I was, where I came from, and what brought me to their community.

One Elder from that day has stayed in my heart ever since. She was petite, with a puff of soft white hair, and a spark in her eyes that danced with laughter and wisdom. Her energy was magnetic—she radiated joy as she spoke. That was my first time meeting Florence James of Penelakut.

Over the years that followed, I saw Florence again and again. She was everywhere—lifting up her community, advocating for justice, and tirelessly educating non-Indigenous people across the Island and beyond. She served as the Elder-in-Residence at Vancouver Island University, generously sharing her teachings and presence with students, staff, and faculty alike. Her presence was steady and full of purpose.

Somewhere along the way, I also became close with her son, Rocky, who has grown into someone I care about very much. Watching the relationship between Florence and Rocky was witnessing something truly special. I loved following their adventures—whether attending plays, speaking events, or even showing up at the Barbie movie together in full pink glam. Their bond was playful, powerful, and full of love.

So when I heard last Sunday that Florence had passed, I felt a wave of emotion. Grief, certainly—for the loss of her light, her laughter, her eyes and smile in this world. Heartbreak for Rocky. And sorrow for her community, where her absence would be felt like a missing drumbeat in the heart of the Nation.

I thought of George Harris Jr.'s teaching—that when hard things happen, we show up for community. And I knew I wanted to show up. Still, I was filled with hesitation. How do I do this in a good way? Are there protocols I should be aware of? What if I cause harm when what I most want to offer is care?

One of the teachings I’ve come to carry through relationships in community is the importance of providing an offering to support funeral costs. Holding that knowledge—and recognizing the significant relationship Rocky has with our Culturally Committed community—I decided to coordinate a collection to support him and his family. As I was preparing the envelope and card, George reminded me to include the names of those contributing, along with the amount each person gave. “Families keep a ledger of those who offer support,” he said. “So it’s important to provide that information.” This practice was unfamiliar to me, and I asked George if he could share more about its purpose.

I was also incredibly grateful when my friend Carmen George of Penelakut invited me to walk with her and her daughter at Florence’s funeral. Her invitation helped me feel grounded. With Carmen and George’s guidance, I was able to navigate the uncertainty and show up in a respectful, heartfelt way.

After the gathering, I messaged George to express my gratitude—for helping me navigate with care, and for his guidance in showing up in a good way. I also reflected on how much I had learned in such a short time, especially around the importance of offering support and naming those contributions. These are teachings I didn’t grow up with—but I now carry them because of the relationships I’ve built and the trust I’ve been shown.

I asked George if he thought this experience could be shared through Teachings Tuesday—to help others who might one day find themselves in a similar position: wanting to offer support, but unsure where to start.

He said yes. And his part of the teaching begins here.

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As I sit and reflect on our culture and ways of being, I often return to what my family has always said about our teachings:“Our teachings are not just words—we live by them. This is a way of life.”

I remember when one of our Elders passed away during the Christmas break, and the funeral happened to land on Christmas Day. My father told our family he was going, and I decided to go too. I wasn’t sure how many people would show up, given the date—but the gym was full.

The speaker addressed the crowd and said,“Thank you all for coming. You bring medicine with you for the family just by being here. You could have been anywhere else today—opening presents, celebrating at home—but you chose to be here. You are living by our ways of being. Your lives are not entirely bound by the Western calendar. You are led by our teachings.”

I remember what it felt like when my own mother passed. It was heartbreaking and deeply humbling. That day, my Uncle Tom leaned over and said,“We’re getting ready to move. When you get up, I want you to look around and really see everyone who came to pay their respects. They’re here to hold you and your sisters and your dad.”

When I stood up and turned around, I saw hundreds of people in the gym. I didn’t get to shake every hand, and I don’t remember every face—but I’ll never forget the feeling of being held by so many people showing up for our family.

Recently, I hosted a podcast episode with my brother Cameron Park. Cam is a settler who’s become a part of our family. He spent nearly two decades walking alongside my sister Daniella at the Stz’uminus school. One day, when one of their students passed, Daniella called Cam to let him know. Without hesitation, he asked, “What can I do?” My sister invited him to the prayer service and the funeral—he was invited to sit with our family. Cam arrived early and waited for my sisters. When they arrived, they waved him over and gave him a seat.

When our beloved matriarch Florence passed, I saw Kim ask those same words: “What can I do?” She showed up for her friend Rocky in one of the hardest moments of his life. She also wanted to follow Coast Salish protocol and give a handshake to the family. She coordinated a collection within our Culturally Committed family—a gesture that felt so aligned with our teachings.

In our traditions, when someone passes, we all give what we can. It helps lift the burden on the family. When someone gives telu (money), support people record who gave it and how much. This helps us uphold the teaching of reciprocity—so that when that person is in need, we remember, and we show up for them too.

So now, maybe you're reading this and asking yourself, “What can I do?”At the foundation of both Cameron’s and Kim’s stories is relationship—built on time, trust, and love. They were invited into our spaces because they walked with us long before anything was asked of them. That foundation matters.

If you’re ever invited to a ceremony, don’t be afraid to ask questions of the person who welcomed you. You don’t know what you don’t know. I’d much rather you ask than unknowingly make a misstep during a sacred time. And if a mistake does happen—own it, learn from it, and do your best to carry the teaching forward.

Come with an open heart and an open mind. When you do, you’ll witness the beauty of community and culture like you’ve never seen before.

~ Wholwholet'za

There is something powerful about being held in community—not just in times of joy, but in times of sorrow, too. In the Coast Salish way, showing up is an act of love. Giving is an act of solidarity. Remembering is an act of responsibility.

These aren’t lessons found in textbooks. They are teachings gifted through relationships, through witnessing, and through doing.

This week’s Teachings Tuesday is about more than protocol—it’s about presence. It's about asking “What can I do?” and being willing to listen to the answer. It’s about learning to walk slowly, respectfully, and relationally into spaces where we are guests, and to carry those teachings with us long after the moment has passed.

To our community—huy ch q’u, thank you for supporting Rocky and his family so generously.

To George and Carmen—huy ch q’u, thank you for always guiding with heart and clarity.

To Florence—huy ch q’u, thank you for your teachings, your humour, and your sparkle.And to Rocky—our hearts are with you, always.

🧡 Kim