Steven Point, BC's lieutenant-governor, former First Nation chief, a great role model
He serves with pride - B.C.'s first native lieutenant-governor talks about what the role means to him, and his priorities for the province
Jonathan Fowlie, February 09, 2008
Last October, Steven Point became B.C.'s first aboriginal lieutenant-governor. On Tuesday, he will deliver the speech from the throne in the legislature.
Born in Chilliwack, Point received a bachelor of laws degree from the University of B.C. After working as a lawyer, he was appointed a provincial court judge. Point also served as chief commissioner of the B.C. Treaty Commission, and as an elected chief of the Skowkale First Nation.
On Friday, Point sat down with The Vancouver Sun to speak about the significance of being B.C.'s first aboriginal lieutenant-governor, what he hopes to do with the job and about his trip in the vice-regal pickup truck.
VS: What's the significance to you of being British Columbia's first aboriginal lieutenant-governor?
SP: This is not a native world, you know. You don't see native people on TV, you don't see them working in the stores. I certainly didn't see any of them on the bench as judges. ... Aboriginal people in this country have been marginalized. Socially, economically, historically.
When I was in high school, there was one chapter on native people in Canada, it was about the Cree people and their teepees. The teachers had no idea what they were teaching. Nothing about B.C. people. It's like we're invisible in this country, which was once ours.
What does it mean for aboriginal people to have someone of their own descent in a position like this? I've gone to a lot of communities now -- the elders, some of them, just start crying. They grab me and they want to hold on to me. The young people want their picture taken. They give me gifts and presents. They're so proud, not so much that I've done this, but that the government saw fit to appoint someone from their own community to be in this position.
We're so far off the map of this country. By putting someone in here, they all tell me: 'Hey, you put us on the map.'
I wasn't going to do this job, you know. We haven't had the most positive relationship with the Crown or the government. In fact, it's been a dismal history. Aboriginal people have faced racism, under-education, poor health care. We've got the highest youth suicide rate in the country, the highest dropout rates of any other group in the country, the highest incarceration rates. I could go on and on.
We can't turn the clock back. We've got to start looking forward to how we can improve this. We can't right every wrong that's been done. But we can start making changes if we can. A positive forward-looking policy we can develop to help aboriginal communities -- that's good, that's what I'm for.
You can be against all kinds of things, but a man is, in fact, defined by what he is for, not by what he's against.
VS: Why did you take the job?
SP: It's a good thing for aboriginal people. It's a good thing for me. It gives me a chance to talk to young people, of all ages, all races, all nationalities.
VS: What are your priorities as lieutenant-governor?
SP: I'm very interested in the whole notion of youth development. As a former judge, I saw a lot of young people coming before the courts. A lot of them are very good kids, just misguided, not really taken well care of. I used to talk to them in court and try to get a sense of who they were and what they were doing ...
All that a young person needs is some sort of inspiration, something that sparks their attention in something. Maybe it's a movie, maybe it's a friend, maybe it's a teacher -- something happens along the way that gets them going on a path.
But if it never happens, they just drift along and hope they win a million dollars, or whatever.
I'm very interested in finding ways of inspiring the young people towards their chosen path, whatever that might be. To get them motivated.
VS: What inspired you when you were young?
SP: A lot of things. When I decided to go to law school, I didn't want to go to law school. My mom wanted me to go, but I didn't want to go. I didn't know what I wanted to become....
I remember leaving university eventually because I had no direction. I didn't know what I was doing there. Like so many of the kids who were just drifting through, just getting away from their parents. I just left, I thought this is crazy, I'm not going to stay here, I don't know what I'm doing. I went home, got married and I remember walking by the house of one of the chiefs and he said to me: 'Steve, I want you to run for council, to be the next chief of our band.'
I was 23, so I said, 'okay, I'll do that.' He was one of the elders. You don't say no to one of the elders.
Lo and behold, I got on as chief of the band. I stayed there for seven years. At that time, attending the meetings, listening to what was going on, even with a year and a half university, the other chiefs thought I was very brilliant for some reason, because I had gone to school in the city.
I knew I didn't know anything. I didn't know a damn thing. I didn't understand what they were talking about. I couldn't understand what the lawyers were talking about, I couldn't understand what the accountants were telling us when they would give us their reports.
It wasn't too long before I was sitting up on a hill, I was a logger in those days. ... I remember sitting on a mountain one day thinking, 'I don't have to do this, I don't have to be up here working, I could be at school.' That's when I decided to go back to school. I was 31.
VS: How do you think you can use this job to inspire kids today?
SP: I think young people are inspired by honesty. They are inspired by integrity. They can spot a phoney coming a mile away.
They are inspired by stories. They like to hear stories, they just do.
I remember going into one school. They said they were having a lot of trouble with the native kids and the non-native kids. There's lots of problems there. So they wanted me to go in.
We went into the school and they brought in all of the students, they sat them down on the floor and the teachers were standing up against the wall like these Gestapo guards. These were elementary school kids.
I started to talk to them, sang them some songs with the drum, made them some fried bread and I told them stories. For an hour and a half, maybe two hours, they sat on the floor and they listened and they watched. The teachers came up to me later on and said they have never seen these kids sit for so long, for anyone.
They're captivated by stories, I think. I think we lose a lot of the translation when we just watch TV. We don't have to be involved in it. But when you tell somebody a story, you've got to look at them and you've got to talk to them and they get engaged in this process. And their imagination gets moving. Something happens. And they begin to see the story through their mind.
I think that's much more engaging. I find it's a very good way to connect with young people.
VS: [Is it true] you are the first lieutenant-governor to drive a pickup truck onto a ferry?
SP: [Laughs] That was funny. When I brought my truck over, because I wanted to get them to fix it over here, because I'm here. I brought that 1977 GMC, it's my dad's old truck. I like it.
The guy comes up to the window and says, 'Are you with the government?'
I said: 'Yeah.'
He says: 'Are you the lieutenant-governor?'
I said, 'Yeah,' and he says, 'You'd better come with me.'
So he drove me up to the front of the line. I'm sitting there in this old truck and I've got my plaid coat on and baseball cap. All these other people are looking at me: how come that guy is going up to the front?
Then they drive me on first and all these people are sitting there wondering how come that old truck is going on first.
I'm sitting up there thinking: 'Well, I guess I'm the lieutenant-governor. I guess that's what's going on.'