I am a white settler woman living and working in Mi’kma’ki, the unceded and ancestral territory of the Mi’kmaq People. I hold privilege based on my race, education, and professional background, and I name that here intentionally. The following are not my calls to make — but they are absolutely my responsibility to raise.
After attending the State of the Region in Yarmouth last month, I’ve thought a lot about community leadership. Leadership that starts in community, and is led by community.
I left stunned.
We spent two hours talking about the challenges and opportunities facing our region — and the planning excluded the very people whose voices are most essential to that conversation. First Nations voices were absent. African Nova Scotian voices were absent. And while “youth” were mentioned as a necessity at every table — where were they?
I didn’t even hear the land acknowledgement and I was sitting in the room before they got started.
Community-led leadership means meaningful engagement with the community.
Leadership means building relationships of trust, then carrying the community’s needs, desires, values, and opinions forward — especially when those needs counter the values of the governing party. Are our elected leaders listening? Are they showing up to carry those voices forward? Do they listen to learn? Do they ask questions? Is there ever a shift in the conversation? Do their responses show that they’ve truly incorporated what they heard?
Throughout the morning, elected officials repeatedly referenced “working together” — all levels of government, with the community. Honestly, it lost a lot of meaning after about the 13th time. And yet, not one mention of the First Nation literally down the road.
“working together” — said umpteen times, not once in reference to Wasoqopa’q
First Nations absence was finally addressed — only after I raised it. I’m not sure if more than two of the attendees I spoke with afterward even took note. A representative spoke of her strong relationship with Wasoqopa’q First Nation, and of how much she has learned from them. Stopping there would have been far more powerful. Instead, the response pivoted to a comment about the diversity of our region — evidenced by the many different ethnic foods available here now. I don’t doubt the sincerity behind it. But good intentions don’t replace the harder work of power-sharing.
Wasoqopa’q, African Nova Scotians, and Acadians have been part of this landscape for centuries — long before the settlers who followed arrived. Reducing that history to a menu — one that didn’t even include the very same cultural backgrounds brought to attention — is not diversity. It is erasure.
Performative platitudes have begun to discredit the entire purpose of land acknowledgements. When we hold events on land that has been walked and stewarded by Indigenous ancestors since time immemorial, acknowledgement must carry meaning — not serve as a box to check before the real agenda begins.
Further, I have to ask: was Wasoqopa’q leadership invited to this conversation?
If not — what does that tell us about whose voices we actually value when we talk about the future of our region? Their absence was more than an oversight. This was a failed opportunity of intentional relationship-building.
I have not spoken directly with Wasoqopa’q leadership before publishing this. Their story is theirs to tell. I am naming only what I witnessed as a settler in that room.
The TRC’s 94 Calls to Action were released in 2015 — eleven years ago.
Call to Action 92 calls upon the corporate sector to commit to meaningful consultation, to build respectful relationships, and to ensure that Indigenous communities gain long-term, sustainable benefits from economic development projects. A “State of the Region” conversation about economic challenges and opportunities is precisely the context this Call to Action speaks to. How is it possible, in 2026, that we are still missing the point?
Call to Action 57 calls upon all levels of government to provide education to public servants on the history of Aboriginal peoples, including the legacy of residential schools, Indigenous law, and Aboriginal-Crown relations. This is not optional learning. It is a commitment Canada made to itself — and to Indigenous peoples — over a decade ago.
Community leadership is led by community
We ALL know that these voices are crucial to the sustainability of our communities. When are we going to actually make them part of the conversation?
Elected officials are not chosen to build what they believe is best. They are chosen to advance what the community tells them is necessary. That means showing up to listen and learn — not just to be heard. It means asking: Who is missing from this room? It means sitting with the discomfort of that answer, and doing something about it before the next event is planned.
Leadership is not a podium. It is a relationship.
Read more about the Truth & Reconciliation Commission Calls to Action at the National Centre for Truth and Reconciliation
Trish McCourt, RSW is a consultant supporting non-profit/community organizations with leadership transition, organizational development, and advocacy. She has spent over 30 years working in community services, including eight years in strategic leadership with nonprofit organizations in Nova Scotia.
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