Métis-Owned, But Not for the Reasons You Think

I grew up knowing that I had Indigenous roots—but it was never clear what those roots were. My grandparents didn’t like to dwell on that part of our history, in fact, there were some in my family history that outright denied being Indigenous. Like many families of English-speaking Métis descent in Canada, our heritage was something quietly acknowledged and quietly set aside.

A Complicated Heritage, Quietly Set Aside

But over the past generation—first through my father, and now in my own life—we’ve begun recovering that part of our story. We’ve been looking back, not out of nostalgia or guilt, but because we believe that truth matters. It doesn’t change who we are to acknowledge the past—but it can deepen our understanding of where we came from and where we’re going.  It is good to know where you come from, and it can give you real perspective on your life to see what came before.

The truth is, my Métis story doesn’t fit the popular narrative.

Our Story Begins With Margaret

Red River Settlement in 1835 (From L.G. Thomas - The Prairie West to 1905)

It begins with a woman named Margaret my fourth great grandmother, born around 1787, either Cree or Blackfoot. She was orphaned in the wars between the Cree and the Blackfoot over land near Rocky Mountain House in what is now Alberta, then adopted by a Hudson’s Bay Company officer named James Curtis Bird. She later married John Hourie, an Orkney man also working for the HBC, in 1809. They moved to Red River and became part of the English-speaking Métis community—Presbyterian, hardworking, and largely loyal to Canada during the turbulent years of the late 1800s.

Some of my ancestors were involved in handing Louis Riel over to the Canadian government. I don’t say that to take sides or stir controversy. It’s simply part of my family history—one that reminds me how complex history really is. We weren’t part of the resistance. We weren’t revolutionaries. We were settlers, fur traders, farmers. We saw that being nomadic and being reliant on buffalo hunts wasn’t the way to build lasting communities. We blended into Canada. And over time, we forgot where we came from.

Only recently have we started to remember.

Remembering, Not Rebranding

And so now, I face a strange tension: I own a business, and I have the option to use the words "Métis-owned business." And let’s be honest—that label can open doors. There are programs, grants, and social capital tied to it. In today’s cultural climate, identity often comes with incentives.

But I’m not comfortable with that.

I don’t want to reduce my family’s history—or anyone else’s—to a checkbox or a marketing strategy. I’m not putting “Métis-owned” on my website because I want applause, or business advantages, or to be seen as part of a trend. In fact, I wrestled with whether I should include it at all. Because I don’t want to participate in the current culture of identity politics, I don’t want this to just be like the performative land acknowledgements that many people use today. I don’t believe heritage should be used as a tool for power or pity.

What I do believe is that heritage should call us to something better—something deeper.

I’m proud of my ancestors, not because they were perfect, but because they endured. They worked. They adapted. They built. That spirit lives on in how I run this business. And that’s what I want to pass on—not a political stance, but a legacy of faith, responsibility, and excellence.

Rooted in the Kootenays, Committed to the Work

My Great Grandparents' Gravestone in Nelson, BC

I’m also deeply connected to this particular place. My roots in the Kootenays go back more than a century. On my mother’s side, my great-great-grandfather moved from the U.S. to Canada in the late 1800s, and then to the Kootenays in the early 1900s. He’s buried in Nelson. My great-grandfather lived his last years in Cranbrook. And when I think about home, I think about this valley, this region, and the land that has held my family for generations—from both sides of the border, and from both sides of history.

Why We Choose to Say Métis-Owned

At Big Tree Electrical, I want to build something real—something that lasts. I want my children to grow up knowing where they come from, not as a badge of identity, but as a source of grounding. I want my customers to know that when they work with us, they’re working with a local electrical business in the Creston Valley that believes in truth, craftsmanship, and standing firm in a world that often feels upside-down.

The red Métis flag represents the English where the classic blue flag represents the French Métis

So yes, we’re a Métis-owned business. But not in the way the world usually means it.

We’re not here to signal anything. We’re here to do good electrical work in BC.

And I hope that’s what you see when you work with us.