Some members of Shoal Lake 40 travelled to their home community for the first time in decades — or ever — during this week’s annual treaty day celebrations, and say they’re hopeful for the First Nation’s future after decades of forced isolation and a lack of clean drinking water.
Thank you for reading this post, don't forget to subscribe!Chief Kevin Redsky says this year’s celebrations are not just big for Shoal Lake 40, but for all of Treaty 3, as it marks 150 years since the document was originally signed in 1873.
“It’s a proud day for Shoal Lake 40,” Redsky said, adding that a family gathering, canoe races and storytelling events are part of this year’s festivities.
The northwestern Ontario community near the Manitoba-Ontario border has been the source of Winnipeg’s water for more than a century. It was left isolated on a man-made island after the city’s aqueduct was completed in 1915.
“That’s a long way back,” Redsky said. “We struggled as a First Nation just for basic survival.”
The community was only accessible by ice road in the winter or by barge in the summer until 2019, when Shoal Lake 40 gained year-round road access. The First Nation was able to build a school and its first-ever water treatment plant in 2021, ending 24 years of boil water advisories.
Redsky says his community is just now grabbing hold of opportunities lost over that century of isolation. “Our ultimate goal is to catch up to Canada. We’re so far behind.”
A commemorative plaque for the treatment plant was unveiled on Tuesday, which is dedicated to all those who “endured the prolonged trauma and risk of inadequate water systems, and the insult of 24 years of inaction by Indigenous Services Canada.”
The community filed a lawsuit against Winnipeg and Ottawa in July, saying it continues to experience long-term cultural, economic and social effects from that century of forced isolation, according to the statement of claim filed in Ontario Superior Court.
The isolation made it challenging for community members to maintain businesses or even get basic necessities such as gas, mail and groceries, the lawsuit said. Many left to pursue better education, employment and housing opportunities, according to Redsky.
Laurie Barnard, who grew up in Redditt, Ont., said she got chills as she entered Shoal Lake 40 for the first time on Tuesday.
For a long time, all Barnard knew about her mother’s home community was that it was accessible by ice road in the winter and by ferry in the summer. She was hurt to learn that Winnipeg sourced its drinking water from Shoal Lake 40 while the community struggled under a long-term boil water advisory.
“It just tore me apart. It never made any sense,” she told CBC News.
She hopes to return to the community more often in the future, and said making connections during the treaty day celebrations will allow her to do that.
Shoal Lake 40’s century of isolation deprived the community of its humanity, said Barnard, “so for them to be able to build this treatment plant, the school and this road — I almost cried coming in because it’s just so beautiful.”
After two decades since her first visit, Pamela Ross Simons also returned to Shoal Lake 40 this week.
Simons, who was immediately adopted at birth, didn’t know anything about her biological family until about 20 years ago. She was able to reconnect with her long-lost brothers and the community after discovering her uncle, but said it was a hassle to get to the First Nation.
“They’re locked in an area that’s really difficult to get out of,” she said.
Growing up in a family that didn’t look like her, Simons said the treaty day celebrations offered the chance to learn more about herself. “For me, this was an opportunity to see myself.”
While Freedom Road was long overdue, she said the year-round road gives her hope for the community’s future.
“We can’t change history, but we can certainly change tomorrow, and that road means that tomorrow could be something different for all of us.”
Dennis Ross, Simon’s biological brother, said he also returned to Shoal Lake 40 this week to reconnect with his roots. He was disconnected from the First Nation after being placed in foster care at around four years old.
“For me, being severed from the community so many years ago … it’s a part of my life that’s missing,” he said.
To Ross, Freedom Road means an easier way to come back home.
“I’m feeling happy, I’m feeling warmth … I’m just feeling a connection,” he said. “This is giving me that family that I’ve missed for 60 years — I’m 60 years old.”
Redsky is not sure what the outcome of his community’s lawsuit against Winnipeg and Ottawa will be, but said “in the end, we just want justice and equity.”
He was proud to see a number of community members come home for the first time after a century of struggle.
“People feel safe coming home. They want to come home, and that road gave us that opportunity.”
