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Indigenous Climate Action (ICA) is an Indigenous-led organization guided by knowledge keepers and land defenders across Canada, advocating for climate justice and supporting initiatives that uplift Indigenous rights and knowledge in climate solutions.
Indigenous Climate Health Action Program (ICHAP) is a First Nations Health Authority program in BC that supports First Nations communities to reduce climate health impacts. ICHAP recognizes that climate change affects physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual health, and funds community-driven projects to strengthen environmental, social, cultural, and economic resilience
Indigenous Climate Hub is a national online platform (Indigenous-led) for First Nations, Inuit, and Métis communities to share their climate change experiences, stories, and best practices. It provides access to resources and tools to monitor climate impacts and adapt, fostering knowledge exchange and community connections.
Chapter 5. Communicating with Indigenous Communities
Climate change communication with First Nations communities in Canada must be rooted in cultural respect, historical awareness, and genuine partnership. For government employees and policy makers, this means approaching climate and mental health messaging not as a one-size-fits-all broadcast, but as a context-specific dialogue built on trust, inclusion, and mutual learning. First Nations (and Métis) peoples have diverse cultures and languages, deep connections to the land, and lived experiences of both resilience and trauma. Effective communication on climate change and mental health must honor these realities – integrating Indigenous knowledge and cultural practices, acknowledging historical injustices and intergenerational trauma, and empowering local voices and solutions. This chapter provides guidance on how to craft warm, accessible, and culturally attuned climate communications for First Nations communities, with a focus on the context of British Columbia’s First Nations and Métis peoples, while remaining broadly applicable across Canada.
Honoring Historical Context and Lived Realities
Any climate change message for Indigenous communities must begin by recognizing context. Colonization in Canada disrupted Indigenous peoples’ health and well-being through policies like residential schools and the Indian Act, leaving a legacy of trauma and inequity (). These historical injustices are not “past” for First Nations – they are lived realities that continue to shape trust (or distrust) in government communications today. Climate change is layered onto this context: it exacerbates many impacts of colonization that First Nations already grapple with – from threats to food security and access to land, to impacts on mental health and wellness (). For example, more frequent extreme weather and wildfires can compound housing insecurity or community displacement, triggering memories of past displacements and losses.
Communicators should openly acknowledge this backdrop. A climate message will ring hollow if it does not recognize historical trauma and ongoing inequities. This might mean, for instance, referencing that a community’s disproportionate vulnerabilities to climate impacts are linked to decades of underfunded infrastructure or loss of traditional territories. It also means using a trauma-informed approach in how we communicate. Trauma-informed principles emphasize physical, cultural, and emotional safety, trustworthiness, and empowerment. In practice, this could involve ensuring community members have real choices and agency in climate initiatives – a key part of helping people regain a sense of control when trauma (past or present) may have left them feeling powerless (1). It also involves collaboration and mutuality, rather than top-down directives: working with the community instead of acting upon it helps counter feelings of isolation and builds solidarity around a common goal (1).
Being culturally respectful and humble is crucial. In BC, the First Nations Health Authority emphasizes cultural safety and humility – recognizing that government agencies must continuously earn trust by listening, learning, and letting Indigenous partners lead where appropriate. For communicators, this could be as straightforward as taking time to learn a community’s preferred protocols and terminology (for instance, using the proper name of the Nation and acknowledging the First Nations territory at the start of a meeting or document). It also means avoiding any tone of paternalism. In the past, decisions affecting First Nations were often made for them, not with them, eroding trust (). To counter this, climate communication must emphasize co-creation and consent – ensuring that messaging and initiatives are developed with meaningful input (and ideally co-leadership) from the community. Approaching each interaction with respect, humility, and an openness to listen can help repair trust and lay the groundwork for productive dialogue on climate solutions.
Integrating Indigenous Knowledge and Cultural Practices
First Nations and Métis communities possess rich traditional knowledge, practices, and values that are profoundly relevant to climate change and mental health. For millennia, Indigenous peoples have observed environmental changes and adapted sustainably, guided by teachings that emphasize balance with the natural world (2) (2). Indeed, many Elders and knowledge keepers were among the first to notice the signs of climate change and to understand its implications for their territories (2). Any climate communication strategy that ignores this wealth of knowledge misses an opportunity and risks disrespect. Rather, governments should strive to integrate Indigenous traditional knowledge side by side with Western climate science in communications. This is sometimes called a “Two-Eyed Seeing” approach – using one eye to see through Indigenous knowledge and the other through Western knowledge, to gain a more holistic view. In practical terms, this might look like including Indigenous seasonal indicators of change (such as shifts in animal migrations or plant life cycles observed by local knowledge holders) in climate reports, or quoting an Elder alongside a scientist in outreach materials.
Respectful integration means treating Indigenous knowledge not as an anecdote but as equal to scientific data () (). For example, many First Nations uphold a worldview that “we are the land and the land is us,” reflecting a sacred relationship with the environment (). This perspective sees damage to the land as damage to the people – which helps explain why climate change can be so deeply upsetting, even existential, for Indigenous communities. Communicators can honor this by framing climate issues in terms of protecting what is sacred (lands, waters, animals, cultural sites) and by acknowledging the emotional and spiritual impacts of environmental loss. At the same time, Indigenous worldviews also provide a foundation for solutions: a common teaching across diverse Nations is to consider the welfare of future generations (often spoken of as the “seven generations” principle). Linking climate action to this long-term responsibility resonates strongly. For instance, messaging could highlight that reducing emissions or restoring an ecosystem today is an act of caring for one’s grandchildren and great-grandchildren – aligning with traditional teachings of intergenerational stewardship (2) (2).
In practice, integrating cultural practices might involve land-based activities as part of climate initiatives, which can also support mental health. For many Indigenous peoples, healing and learning happen on the land. Workshops or youth programs about climate adaptation could be held outdoors in the territory, led by Knowledge Keepers who interweave climate information with cultural education (such as teaching about traditional medicines or harvesting practices that are now at risk). Such approaches not only convey facts but also reinforce cultural identity and community cohesion, which are protective for mental wellness. Moreover, participating in ceremonies – for example, opening a climate meeting with a prayer, song, or smudging ceremony led by an Elder – can ground the communication in respect and acknowledge the spiritual dimension of climate concerns. Governments should support and make space for these cultural protocols rather than impose purely Western modes of engagement. This demonstrates respect for Indigenous ways of knowing and being, helping communities feel seen and valued in the process. As one set of national guidelines on Indigenous-led conservation communications puts it, respectful communication requires embracing principles of “relationships, respect, responsibility, and reciprocity” () – which in practice means honoring Indigenous values at every step of the storytelling and message-sharing process.
Collaborative and Participatory Approaches
“Nothing about us without us” – this phrase is often invoked in Indigenous contexts to insist on inclusion in decisions that affect them. Climate communication for First Nations communities should embody this ethos by being highly collaborative. Rather than crafting messages in distant offices and then delivering them to communities, governments are most effective when they co-create communications with Indigenous partners from the start (). This might involve establishing a working group or advisory circle with representatives from the community (including Elders, youth, land guardians, and local leaders) to guide how climate and mental health topics are discussed. Through co-development, messaging can better reflect local priorities, address community-specific concerns, and use culturally relevant language and analogies.
Collaboration also builds capacity on both sides. Indigenous participants gain insight into government processes and climate science, while government staff learn how to communicate in more culturally nuanced ways. Crucially, genuine collaboration requires time and relationship-building. Research collaborations in climate adaptation with Indigenous communities in Canada have shown that long-term, respectful, and reciprocal relationships are the foundation of success (2). Trust is not granted automatically; it must be earned by showing up consistently, following through on commitments, and being willing to learn from mistakes. For example, an environment ministry team might spend months in dialogue with a First Nation, conducting meetings on the community’s timetable, listening to concerns about how climate change is impacting local livelihoods, and only then jointly developing outreach materials that speak to those concerns. In some cases, this process could include sharing meals, attending cultural events, or even participating in ceremonies together – informal interactions that strengthen mutual understanding (2). While this level of engagement may seem time-intensive, it pays off by yielding communications that the community feels ownership of.
Another participatory method is to hold community workshops or talking circles on climate and mental health. In these forums, community members can voice their observations (for instance, noting changes in the land or waters they’ve witnessed) and share their emotional responses. Facilitators should ensure the space is safe and inclusive – sometimes using Indigenous languages if participants are more comfortable, or engaging in storytelling rather than slide presentations. Storytelling is a powerful traditional mode of communication; encouraging people to share stories of how, say, a flood affected them or how they’re coping with eco-anxiety can validate their experiences and foster peer support. Government communicators can learn from these stories and incorporate them (with permission) into broader messaging. Such story-based communication is often more resonant in Indigenous contexts than impersonal statistics. It’s also a form of co-creation: the community’s narratives become part of the climate message.
Crucially, participatory communication must also mean shared decision-making in what solutions to highlight. Indigenous communities are not merely audiences; they are rights holders and knowledge holders. When developing content about adaptation or mitigation, ensure Indigenous leadership and perspectives guide the narrative. For example, if discussing wildfire preparedness and mental health, and the First Nation has a traditional fire management practice or a community emergency plan they’ve developed, those should be front and center in the communications. Highlight the community’s own initiatives – perhaps a local food sovereignty project or a youth land stewardship program – as part of the climate solutions being promoted. This approach validates Indigenous efforts and positions the community as an active leader in addressing climate challenges, rather than a passive victim. It aligns with what the BC First Nations Climate Strategy calls a First Nations Climate Lens, which challenges portrayals of Indigenous peoples as vulnerable and instead emphasizes them as “leaders and active drivers of change” in the climate emergency (). When communications adopt this lens, they empower the audience and build pride.
Engaging Elders and cultural leaders is a vital element of participatory communication. Elders carry wisdom about past climate variability, traditional health practices, and community values. Involving them in message development or as spokespersons can lend credibility and authenticity. For instance, an Elder might open a video on climate and mental wellness with a teaching about the importance of water or the need to support each other in hard times, grounding the content in cultural context. However, remember to approach Elder engagement with proper protocols: request permission through the appropriate channels, offer an honorarium for their time and knowledge (as recommended by Indigenous protocol guidelines ()), and give them space to review and approve how their words are used. Similarly, consider involving Indigenous youth in communications – not only are they tech-savvy and often passionate about climate action, but youth perspectives can inspire hope and intergenerational dialogue. A collaborative workshop could pair Elders and youth to jointly design climate messages, bridging wisdom and new ideas.
In Focus: Respectful Climate Communication in Action – Kanaka Bar’s Story
Kanaka Bar Indian Band in the Fraser Canyon of BC offers a compelling example of how climate communication and planning can be done in a respectful, community-driven way. Kanaka Bar, a Nlaka’pamux First Nation, has faced intense climate impacts in recent years – including being at the epicenter of the 2021 heat dome and catastrophic wildfires that devastated the nearby village of Lytton. Instead of being defined by these disasters, Kanaka Bar has become known for its proactive approach to climate resilience and its transparent communication with community members.
Under the leadership of Chief Patrick Michell and council, Kanaka Bar developed a climate adaptation strategy focused on self-sufficiency. They started by engaging the community in conversations about the changes people were observing on the land: elders spoke of streams drying up and traditional food sources declining, while youth shared concerns about smoky summers and the future. The Band invested in tracking local climate observations and sharing this knowledge widely. On their community website, they openly post updates about environmental conditions – noting “temperature ups and downs, precipitation irregularities, increased droughts, weird wind, higher wildfire threats and loss of wild salmon” – and discuss how they are preparing for these impacts (4). This open communication keeps everyone informed and validates community members’ experiences (after all, everyone can see the salmon runs shrinking or the longer fire seasons). It also reinforces a collective mindset: we know what’s happening, and we’re facing it together.
From these discussions, Kanaka Bar’s leaders co-created solutions with the community. One key message that emerged was the need to be prepared for the “age of consequence” – a term the community uses to describe living with climate change realities (4). Rather than instilling fear, this message is coupled with action. Kanaka Bar has actively invested in projects that embody hope and resilience: solar panel installations to ensure energy independence, a community garden and greenhouse to boost local food security, and even climate-resilient housing designs. These initiatives are communicated not as top-down directives, but as community achievements. For instance, when the community solar project was launched, it was celebrated with a community event where the benefits (lower electricity costs, reliable power during grid outages, reduced emissions) were explained in both technical terms and through the lens of traditional values of self-reliance and caring for the land. By framing renewable energy and other projects as a continuation of ancestral values of living in balance, Kanaka Bar’s leaders made climate action relatable and a source of pride.
The mental health aspect has not been ignored. After the trauma of repeated evacuations, Kanaka Bar recognized the need to rebuild not just homes, but hope. Leadership held healing circles where people could share their anxieties about climate threats. In meetings with government partners, Chief Michell consistently emphasized the importance of listening to the community’s emotional needs, not just the infrastructure needs. When communicating externally, Kanaka Bar’s approach has been to highlight their resilience narrative. A recent profile in Canadian media noted that despite being “climate evacuees” multiple times, the people of Kanaka Bar haven’t stopped “finding solutions” (3) (3). This narrative – one of local initiative and forward-looking optimism – is powerful. It respects the hardship the community endured, but it also spotlights Indigenous leadership in climate action.
For governments, the lesson from Kanaka Bar’s story is clear: respectful climate communication is inseparable from community-driven action. By engaging residents in monitoring changes and devising solutions, and by communicating frequently, transparently, and with cultural grounding, Kanaka Bar has managed to turn a potentially despairing situation into a story of empowerment. Any government agency looking to communicate about climate risks and mental health in a First Nations context would do well to adopt a similar model of deep engagement, co-creation, and emphasis on hope through action. As Kanaka Bar’s example shows, when communications honor Indigenous values and amplify Indigenous solutions, they can help rekindle hope even amid crisis.
Tailoring climate change and mental health communications for First Nations (and Métis) communities requires more than translation of materials – it requires a transformation of approach. By honoring historical context, integrating Indigenous knowledge, engaging in true partnership, and focusing on empowerment, governments can craft messages that resonate and respect. Such communications do more than convey information; they validate identity, acknowledge pain, and inspire collective action. In the spirit of reconciliation and resilience, communicators must be willing to listen as much as they speak. When done right, climate messaging can become a tool for healing and empowerment, helping Indigenous communities to navigate the climate crisis in ways that strengthen mental wellness, cultural continuity, and hope for future generations.
Sensitive Messaging and Empowerment
Messaging about climate change can easily become grim, which risks exacerbating anxiety or hopelessness – feelings that are already prevalent, especially among younger generations. In First Nations communities, this distress is sometimes described in terms of land-based grief or “solastalgia” – the emotional pain of witnessing environmental change and destruction in one’s home territory. When layered on existing intergenerational trauma, the weight of climate change can be overwhelming. Therefore, communicators should strive to craft messages that validate these emotions but also foster a sense of hope and empowerment. This does not mean sugar-coating the very real threats; rather, it means highlighting resilience, agency, and solutions even in the face of adversity.
One effective approach is to emphasize local, culturally relevant solutions and success stories. For example, instead of a generic statement like “climate change is causing wildfires that threaten mental health,” a tailored message might acknowledge the community’s recent wildfire evacuation experiences and then focus on how the Nation is responding – perhaps by developing a new emergency response plan that incorporates traditional fire knowledge, or by building community fire breaks with local crews. By showcasing these proactive steps, the communication acknowledges hardship but pivots to empowerment: “We have been through tough times, and we are taking action to protect our land and people.” Such framing reinforces community resilience and can inspire collective efficacy (the belief that “together, we can do this”). It’s also important to let people know that their emotional reactions – grief, anxiety, anger – are normal and shared by others, and that supporting one another (for instance, through cultural practices, talking circles, or counseling services) is part of the solution. This blend of realism and optimism can help combat paralysis and despair.
Government communicators should also be mindful of language. Avoid alarmist or doom-laden language that could trigger trauma or fatalism. Instead, use tone that is calm, compassionate, and solutions-oriented. Phrases that recognize strength can be powerful – e.g., noting that First Nations have “adapted and survived through many changes over generations” and will do so again with the strength of community and culture. Additionally, acknowledge feelings of injustice and anger (many Indigenous communities feel they are on the frontlines of climate impacts despite contributing little to the problem (2)), and validate those feelings. A message might say, “It is understandable to feel anger that our community faces these challenges. We honor that feeling – and we channel it into fighting for climate justice and protection of our rights.” Showing that those in power are truly listening to these concerns is key to maintaining credibility. As one First Nations leader in BC articulated, communities need hope that those in power are listening and willing to help – a hope backed by concrete actions and policy changes, not just words (3).
Finally, ensure the messaging is audience-centric. First Nations and Métis communities are diverse – what resonates in one region or Nation may not in another. In British Columbia alone there are over 200 distinct First Nations. A remote Haida Gwaii community, for instance, might prioritize messages about ocean changes and traditional food gathering, whereas an urban Métis community in Vancouver might relate more to messages about extreme heat in the city and maintaining cultural connection in an urban setting. There is no substitute for doing the homework: engage with the specific community to learn what matters to them. Whenever possible, localize your content – use local place names, refer to local species or traditions, and if appropriate, include words or phrases in the local Indigenous language (with guidance from community members on accuracy and proper usage). This shows respect and effort, and it makes communication far more relevant. Even design elements – such as incorporating Indigenous artwork or symbols with permission – can signal that this is a message by and for the community, not a generic pamphlet. The extra effort to tailor communication in this way demonstrates to First Nations partners that their identity and knowledge are valued, setting the stage for more open, engaged conversations about coping with climate change and safeguarding mental wellness.
Chapter Highlights
Effective climate communication with Indigenous communities requires respect, historical awareness, and cultural humility.
Acknowledge historical injustices, ongoing trauma, and lived realities openly.
Integrate Indigenous knowledge alongside scientific data through a "Two-Eyed Seeing" approach.
Prioritize collaborative, participatory processes that empower local leadership and amplify community solutions.
Craft sensitive messages that validate emotional distress while emphasizing resilience, agency, and culturally relevant actions.
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