A new project has brought together a team of Indigenous graphic artists to create a series of short comics based on archival recordings of Elders from the Homalco First Nation.
Captured in the early 1990s, these recordings explore life in the Homalco First Nation’s traditional territory in Bute Inlet, with Elders recalling their childhoods and sharing stories about traditional customs and their nation’s rich history.
Like many First Nation communities in BC striving to revitalize their traditional ways of being, this project is crucial for the Homalco Nation as it seeks to rekindle their language and preserve their culture in modern ways. By using comics that integrate the Homalco language, the project aims to engage the youth, ensuring that the voices of their Elders resonate with future generations.
To learn more about this project, we spoke with Homalco member and the project’s lead, Tchadas Leo, Dr. Elizabeth Nijdam, the director of UBC’s Comic Studies Cluster, Cecil Hershler, chair of Education Without Borders, and Alina Pete, a Cree cartoonist and one of the artists hired to work on this project.
In our conversation, we dig into the importance of the project and its inception, favorite moments including a road trip where the artists and project team traveled to Bute Inlet to connect with the Homalco First Nation, and, finally, advice for others hoping to develop successful community-university partnerships and how comics can be a powerful tool for this work.
Enjoy the interview below, available in both audio and written formats, and be sure to scroll to the bottom to view excerpts from the graphic novel. This initiative was supported by the Partnership Recognition and Exploration Fund.
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Edits have been made to this written Q&A for clarity, style, and tone.
How did the comic book project get started and why is it important for Homalco’s goals?
Tchadas Leo: It really got started when Cecil approached me for the first time, through 100.7 FM, the radio station my nation owns and operates on the reserve. The opportunity to relisten to recordings of Elders was such a treasure because I know some of these Elders. I remember growing up on the reserve and listening to them, and then to revisit their voices so many years later—over a decade, at the minimum—was amazing and unique. That was truly exciting, and that’s how we began the first part of this project.
After the podcast was finished, Cecil reached out again to talk about what we could do next and what the potential was for where we could take this. With the full contribution of everyone involved in this process, we can maybe take this a step further.
That brings us to the importance of our nations and the need to find as many ways as possible to rekindle the language and preserve the culture. We must do it in a modern way because many of our oral traditions weren’t written down; they were just passed from one person to another. Sometimes, those people might forget, or the stories might get lost. So, finding ways to modernize that history is crucial. The podcast is great, but the graphic novel is also fantastic, especially for the youth, because it engages them in a more interactive and modern way. That’s what makes this so important and why we value it so much.
I’ve had conversations with the nation, with Chief Blaney, and they’re all excited. They’re definitely keeping me on my toes, asking, “When are you coming in? What’s happening?” I’m going to do a small presentation for them in a couple of weeks to give them an update on where we are. So, this means a lot to us, and we’re excited about the final product.
Can you give us an overview of the project’s key milestones and activities?
Tchadas Leo: Key milestones, like you mentioned before, started with doing the podcast, which was already a beautiful moment for the nation and for the project to preserve our history. I would consider that the first significant step. The next moving piece was this graphic novel. The second milestone involved putting our minds together—myself, Cecil, and Biz—to figure out how we were going to proceed. We needed to decide who we would find to bring this vision to life, how we wanted it to look and feel, and who we wanted to be involved.
The open call for artists was the next milestone, finding and selecting those artists, and deciding who we wanted to be part of the project. That was a great milestone. Then, thanks to some incredible work—especially from Biz, who secured a lot of funding—we were able to push forward.
The next milestone was that we had the opportunity to take these artists and ourselves to the traditional territory of the Homalco people, which is Bute Inlet—specifically Church House or Orford Bay. Bringing the artists to the very place they are going to depict in the graphic novel, based on those recordings, is something that really makes this project special. It was a huge milestone because it’s not very common in this kind of work—whether you’re creating a graphic novel or any other artistic endeavor—that you get to physically visit the place you’re going to illustrate, rather than just relying on pictures or YouTube videos. So, that was an incredible milestone for us.
In my opinion, the next milestone was when we received those first drafts and got to see just how incredibly talented these three artists are. Seeing the work progress and coming to life was exciting. We’re now at the stage where all the drawings are completed and in our hands. The next step is to start a draft publication, see what it looks like in physical form, and then go back to the community one more time to ensure our Elders and knowledge keepers are happy with the final product.
After that, we’ll be off to the printers, and the community will have full control over what they want to do with it—whether they want to sell it, make money from it, or do something else entirely. What I really love about this project is that it ultimately becomes a treasure for the community, and they get to decide its future. That, I believe, will be the biggest reward for all of us, and the best milestone will be when it’s finally completed.
Elizabeth Nijdam: I’d like to highlight some of these milestones because one of the unique aspects of this project is incorporating the Homalco people’s language. I think that’s a key milestone, that Tchadas did a fantastic job facilitating it. First, we had the drafts of the comics produced by our three cartoonists, and Tchadas took those to Campbell River to consult with Elders from the Homalco First Nation. The goal was to identify key words that we could integrate into the comics because this project isn’t just about preserving oral storytelling traditions and traditional knowledge through graphic novels; it’s also about safeguarding the language, which, like so many Indigenous languages, is very vulnerable.
I was so impressed by the way Tchadas facilitated collaboration with the Elders and the community to ensure that the language was meaningfully incorporated into the comics. Then, the artists took it upon themselves to revise the comics again, finding imaginative ways to engage with the language and offer translations to further foster the revitalization of the language. That’s such an important and unique part of this project, and I want to make sure to give Tchadas the credit he deserves, along with the artists. When you look at how each individual artist incorporated this new vocabulary, it’s quite powerful.
Alina Pete: From the artist’s perspective, having the dictionary of language terms available was really interesting. It was great to be able to work those terms into the stories in a natural way—not just as standalone words, but as part of sentences. However, it did present a unique challenge because the Homalco language has a lot of special characters that aren’t included in a standard font pack. Since I create my own signs based on my hand lettering, I went through and added a bunch of those special characters to the font pack I use. This process inspired me to create a Cree language font pack using my handwriting.
One thing I wish I had more time for was incorporating local onomatopoeia as sound effects within the comic. I don’t know the sound words for my own language, and I’d be really interested to find out what the sound words are in Homalco.
Cecil Hershler: For me, this milestone is very personal because it’s the first time I’m seeing visual art combined with text in this way—not just the usual English text we’re familiar with, but also Homalco language text, which I’m not familiar with. At this stage of the project, when I look at a Homalco word alongside its translation, it feels a bit like a work of art to me. These are different ways of representing meaning, and it’s the first time I’m experiencing this. I’m sure it’s going to have a similar effect on all first-time readers of the text. So, this milestone feels like a birth moment.
Did this project create any opportunities for teaching, learning or research?
Elizabeth Nijdam: First, I want to start with personal learning that this project necessitated, which was learning how to take a step back. Typically, as the director of the comic studies cluster, I take a very hands-on approach to the comics projects I oversee. This project is one of four that I’m currently working on, and while collaborating with Indigenous partners, particularly the Homalco First Nation, I learned how to support and facilitate rather than guide and lead.
This was a valuable opportunity for me because it’s not just in partnerships with Indigenous communities where I need to practice this approach; it’s essential when working with all kinds of vulnerable communities. In the comic studies research I facilitate, we focus on participatory action research, ensuring that the research questions we pursue are generated within community and in collaboration.
And that approach isn’t just for research; it’s also crucial for the co-creative process of making art. For me, it was incredibly rewarding to step back and support the vision of this project, to step in only when needed, to check in occasionally, and to help identify additional funding. Cecil and Education Without Borders provided the initial and ongoing funding that supports this project, but for any additional things we wanted to pursue, I had to explore other avenues to ensure we could achieve those goals. That was the first bit of personal learning for me.
Another important lesson, which became a learning experience for myself and other partners working on comics projects like this, came from a conversation I had with Dr. Shannon Leddy, a Métis scholar in education at UBC. We spent a lot of time discussing collaboration with Indigenous partners on comics projects because we are also working on a project together. We talked about how visiting itself is an Indigenous research methodology, which made going to the place we were thinking about an important part of the work we wanted to do.
That conversation really inspired me to bring our cartoonists, project co-leads, and collaborators to Bute Inlet. It was important to ensure we had a true sense of the material we were working with, the impact and significance of it, and the community at the foundation of this work. This experience together deepened our understanding and connection to the project, making it much more than just a creative endeavor—it became a meaningful, community-driven process.
Experiencing that together—seeing it all come together and receiving the funding to do the boat tour with the Homalco First Nation—was an incredibly valuable opportunity. It was not just beneficial for the artists, but it also profoundly shaped how I envision working in community, collaboration, and partnership. This experience has become the foundation for many of the other comics projects we’re involved in. We now ensure that the place, the space, the people, and the community we’re engaging with are integral parts of the process in some way, shape, or form.
When it comes to teaching, research, and learning outside of the cluster, I’m thrilled that this project is going to be embraced by the Homalco people and the community. It’s also likely to become a teaching resource for K-12 classrooms, which is one of the ways we’ve envisioned it. Education Without Borders, the very foundation of the work they do, is all about educating people. I know that for Cecil and Ruth, K-12 education is particularly important, and it’s great to see this project align with that focus.
I hope we can expand this project to develop more resources that accompany these texts for classroom use. As a model for collaborative work, it could be important in higher education too. I talk about this kind of work with my students, as I teach comics at the university. Discussing how comics contribute to representing complex present and past histories is a key part of my teaching. Learning from this project informs how my students understand the impact and intervention of comics in these contexts.
What’s been your favorite experience or outcome from the project?
Alina Pete: The trip to Homalco territory was truly amazing. Biz’s idea to bring us all there so we could see the land firsthand was incredibly informative for my drawings, especially the landscapes, and for thinking about how to present the story.
We went out on a morning that was very warm on the water but quite cool in the shadows of the mountains. Beside the river, I saw little bits of frost crackling on the plant life and ice forming at the river’s edges. As I thought about the story I was assigned—river bathing, a year-long process—I reflected on how challenging it felt to take off my jacket in that weather, let alone get into the water. Yet, this was something done daily as part of coming of age. Bringing that sense of place into the story was crucial.
Another great moment was when Biz arranged a carpool with me and Valen. We were in the back seats, and we put together a collaborative playlist. It was a perfect way to get to know each other. Cartooning can often be a lonely endeavor—you get the scripts, work on the art, and don’t always interact with others during the process. Having the presence of community in the car, getting to know each other through music, fun, and a little road trip up to the territory was an ideal way to start things off.
Tchadas Leo: I completely agree. The trip was incredibly beneficial. It was unique and exciting, and it demonstrated that everyone involved with the project truly cares. We wanted to be there and do the best job possible. That genuine passion from the artists, Biz, Cecil, and everyone involved is something the nation clearly sees, and it’s a big part of why they’re so receptive to our work. This experience will always be a significant memory for me, well beyond the completion of the project.
Cecil Hershler: We’ve all heard stories about residential schools and the related experiences, but hearing them directly from a descendant or survivor is incredibly moving. It’s a profound honour to hear such stories face-to-face. The depth and personal nature of these accounts add a layer of significance that’s both humbling and impactful.
Elizabeth Nijdam: On that boat, it wasn’t just about the storytelling and the memories shared by the Elders who joined us. It was more than that. It was like being part of a gathering of old friends reconnecting and reminiscing about the past. The stories weren’t for our benefit; often, they were telling them to each other. The laughter, the joy, and even the random fishing excursions made it a beautiful opportunity to be present with the representatives of the Homalco Nation. It was a powerful reminder of what life is like today, despite the difficulties, the loss of traditional knowledge we’re trying to recapture through the comics, and the experiences of residential schools we heard about while on the boat.
The term “survivants” captures both the concept of survival and the celebration of overcoming adversity, focusing on the joy rather than just the trauma. It doesn’t mean that trauma and hardship didn’t exist, but it highlights the resilience and joy in contemporary Indigenous experiences. Seeing this reflected in the laughter, sharing, and spontaneous fishing on the boat was incredibly powerful for me.
Tchadas Leo: It was interesting that you mentioned that, Biz. One of the people on the boat was my father, and it was fascinating to hear him talk to others and discover stories about his past that I’d never heard before. At 33 years old, you think you know someone, and then you hear these incredible stories for the first time. It was a real treat and added a special layer to the experience.
What strengths did each party bring to this initiative?
Tchadas Leo: When Cecil approached me about doing a podcast, that was right up my alley. I’ve been actively involved in broadcasting and podcasting for quite some time, so that part was straightforward. However, when he mentioned moving on to a graphic novel or comic book, that was completely out of my domain. I knew I needed help from someone with experience in that area, someone who could facilitate and be a bridge to the community.
When Cecil told me about Biz and her work and experience, that’s what ultimately made me feel comfortable moving forward. I knew we needed someone with the right expertise to handle the complexities of putting a graphic novel together. While I could handle aspects related to Elders, languages, and project management, this project required a team with specialized strengths. I’m confident that with everyone in their right roles, we’ve assembled the right team for the job.
We ended up with some fantastic artists and great funding, and Cecil’s patience throughout the process has been invaluable. Everyone brought their own strengths to the table, and I’m happy to be a part of it.
Elizabeth Nijdam: When we started this project, I was so impressed with how Cecil took the initiative and said, “Let’s just do this.” We met over a late lunch one afternoon and began discussing the kind of research I do. Cecil was enthusiastic and kept pushing things forward, suggesting we meet for coffee to talk more. His drive and positivity helped keep everything moving, and that momentum was crucial for getting the project off the ground.
I think it takes a lot of courage to step into a genre like this, especially when there are so few comic scholars and fewer nonprofit leaders involved in this kind of project facilitation. Cecil has really gone above and beyond by not only embracing comics but also connecting with other First Nations interested in similar work. Even though he wasn’t familiar with the medium before that initial conversation, he’s become a strong advocate for comic art in Indigenous storytelling in a profound way. I really commend him and Ruth for their bravery and driving courage to making this happen when it’s not even a medium that Cecil was familar with prior to that one late afternoon conversation.
Cecil Hershler: I’ll need to diminish that a bit. My initial understanding of comic art was limited to superheroes like Superman and Batman. But as I’ve delved deeper into it, I’ve come to see how comic art can help us grasp complex issues through this project. The beauty of it is on the surface, it might seem like just comic art, but beneath that, it’s a profound and impactful medium for exploring the complexity of the world we live in. It can be a powerful tool for healing, which is so desperately needed.
I’d say my strength is understanding the age-old proverb, ‘ignorance is bliss’—sometimes you just have an instinct, or draw from serendipity. You must listen to serendipity and appreciate things you stumble upon by chance. Meeting Biz was one of those serendipitous moments, and I had to recognize its significance.
Elizabeth Nijdam: I also want to speak to how lucky we are to have Alina on this project. Even though Alina is one of three artists, we’re also fortunate to have Gord Hill and Valen Onstine on board. Gord Hill is a highly respected Indigenous cartoonist, and having him involved in this project is a significant gain.
But Alina is also an editor and an advocate for Indigenous cartoonists, Alina brings a wealth of knowledge and experience in cartooning with Indigenous communities. It’s incredibly inspiring to explore their portfolio and see the other voices they’re helping to elevate. I’m excited to continue working with Alina, Valen, and Gord. This has been a fantastic opportunity for me to start building a network of individual cartoonists that I want to continue supporting.
I love how this project might just be the beginning of much more work with the Homalco First Nation. As long as Tchadas and Cecil continue to be the visionaries we need, we can expand the project and support cartoonists who, through the site visit to Bute Inlet, have become deeply invested in the goals of this work. They feel it, see it, and have connected with the community members who have guided the stories. They will continue to treasure these stories because they are their stories.
Alina Pete: I’ve got to say, I don’t know whether it was intentional or just a beautiful coincidence, but it feels like this project was very people-first. Obviously, we were all getting together to do the work, but the way we were engaged in it made a huge difference. We had a couple of Zoom meetings just to break the ice and get to know what we were doing before we met in person.
Then, when we did meet, it started with a dinner where we could all connect. We had a a chance to chat with some of the Elders, heard some amazing stories that night, and shared so many laughs. It was a wonderful way to break the ice before we all spent the next day together on the boat.
At the end of it, when we were on the ferry coming back from Bute, I felt like we had all become part of a family. It really felt like we had formed a community through this project.
That’s something I really want to see more of, not just in community-based work like this. When outsiders come into a community to tell their stories, it can sometimes feel exploitative if we just come, take their stories, and leave. But by getting to know them personally and becoming part of their community, we can avoid that. It’s about respecting the process, and the people involved.
Having met and talked with them, we’re given the responsibility of handling their stories with care, including some of their own words. This approach makes the work more meaningful and respectful. Whether it was intentional or not in this project, it’s something I want to bring to all future projects.
Elizabeth Nijdam: One of the partners I’m working with on another set of comics projects is Duncan McCue, a CBC reporter and now a professor of Indigenous Journalism at Carleton University. He talks about exactly this distinction, Alina, differentiating between storytelling and story taking. I love that storytelling is at the foundation of the story we’re telling and the heart of the methodologies we’re integrating into how we tell it.
So, it’s wonderful to hear that you feel this project is people-first, that we’ve become like a family invested in doing good work. I hope we get to continue this approach in future projects.
Do you have any advice for others that are hoping to develop successful community- university partnerships?
Tchadas Leo: My advice would be to be open to listening to every opportunity and meeting everyone first before deciding. Like I said, I didn’t know Cecil, I didn’t know Biz, and I didn’t know what Education Without Borders was. So, as much as I had a wealth of knowledge as a journalist, podcaster, and producer, in that initial moment, I felt like I didn’t know anything. I questioned whether I was the right person for this.
But the advice is to listen, pay attention, and be patient. Gather all the information you think you need, and then let your heart guide you to whether it’s the right thing to do. For me, it definitely did. I felt comfortable and supported, and having that community support, along with the support from everyone on this team, is what I think worked very well.
Building that trust has been vital. This family we’ve created has been crucial to our success. So, my advice is to practice patience, pay attention, gather all the information you need, and then make your choice. Surround yourself with people who share the same goals and passion, who want to see the same results that you envision.
It’s amazing because we’ve got five or six of us here, and while we all have different wants and needs, we’ve managed to blend our skills and talents—and a bit of luck—to come together effectively. I think that’s what’s ultimately making this a success. I can’t wait until we have a physical copy in our hands, to show to the community and give it to them. It’s going to be incredible.
Cecil Hershler: This all began many years ago when our charity, Education Without Borders, struggled with crafting a statement about honouring the land. We had significant trouble with the wording and could never come up with a satisfactory statement. So, we decided to hold a workshop with an Indigenous counselor who was living in Campbell River at the time.
That was the beginning of our connection with Campbell River. For our charity, it all started with a three-weekend workshop that guided us through the history of the Indigenous experience in Canada.
There was one statement from the end of those three-weekend workshops that has stayed with me. The counselor said, “Whatever you do, don’t make it transactional but rather relational.”
In other words, instead of thinking in terms of “we’ll pay you for this if you give us that,” focus on making it relational. Create experiences together. I think Alina and Tchadas touched on this earlier. Build connections through shared experiences, even something as simple as having a cup of tea together. From my own experience, I’d say start with something that’s relational, and out of that, you’ll find your way.
Elizabeth Nijdam: To add to that, operating relationally is essential, and it’s equally important to recognize that what we’re doing is now in relationship. When you start a project with a community partner or someone outside of higher education, maintaining that relationship is crucial. We can’t do transactional work, as Cecil has highlighted.
We also need to ensure that these relationships have futures, which is part of not making it transactional. Moving forward, instead of seeking out new people to work with and starting different projects, I’m focusing on finding ways to continue working with and investing in the people I’m already collaborating with.
Then maybe I’ll build on that, but I want to continue finding spaces for the individuals with whom I’ve already built relationships. I want to keep lifting them up. So, rather than just seeking out new opportunities, I’m focusing on identifying new funding sources and bringing people into new projects who are already invested.
For example, Shayla, you mentioned that we’re talking to a cartoonist today. Should we consider asking cartoonists to do illustrative work for CUES if the opportunity arises?
And I’m like, Yes, that’s exactly what we should do. We’re building a relationship with someone like Alina, so we need to maintain that connection. When opportunities arise, we should offer them to the people we’re already in relationship with. That’s important to me.
In higher education, we often say that work shouldn’t be transactional, but while it might not be now, once the project is over, we can lose track of the relationships we wanted to maintain. For me, I view the work I’m doing in the Comics Studies cluster as one big project. I’m building out a network—like a family—to support the people I’m already invested in and connect them to other projects.
Especially with cartoonists, who are often woefully underpaid, their work is so rich, rewarding, and impactful. It reaches new audiences and does things with art that words alone cannot, touching us on an emotional level. So, that’s a key part of this project for me, and it’s also central to working with and within the community.
Alina Pete: Yeah, I’m going to echo what you said. Communities have stories to tell, and academia wants to share stories beyond the academic bubble, which can often seem challenging. Art, and specifically comics, are a fantastic way to bridge that gap and make these stories accessible to the public.
If we were just producing something like a journal article, it would likely remain within academic circles. But comics engage people on a very emotional level. There’s a blank space between the panels that invites the audience to fill in, so it’s not just about reading a story—it’s about participating in it. You interpret the panels, and they take on personal meaning for you. Especially for technical or emotional stories, comics are an excellent way to connect with the audience.
I’ve been noticing an amazing growth in the community of Indigenous comic creators in BC, which is exciting.
We just had an event at the Bill Reid Gallery a few weekends ago, and it was amazing to see how many people I recognized. I was like, “I’ve met you before, I know you, I know your work, and I love it.” There were probably about a dozen of us there, and it was great to finally meet in person.
There’s a real wealth of talent to draw from within the Greater Vancouver area and BC specifically. One of the fantastic aspects of comics is that it’s a job you can do remotely. This means creators living in the north or other distant areas can still get involved with UBC or other institutions, despite the long travel. So, go comics!
Elizabeth Nijdam: Yeah, so basically, our advice to people interested in university-community partnerships is: make comics!
What is next for the project or partnership?
Elizabeth Nijdam: We’ve received our final drafts, which will be brought back to Campbell River for a final consultation with the Elders we’re working with. Tchadas is organizing that meeting, as he mentioned, and then we’ll move into the process of producing the book. Tchadas has partnered with someone for this part, and I’m really excited about when we get to celebrate our accomplishment.
I am now one of the co-directors for the Popular Culture Cluster, focusing on the role of popular media and social change. This role gave me the funding to help us celebrate the book project’s release. I’m hoping we can make another trip back to Campbell River to exhibit the work, have another dinner, celebrate our achievement, continue building relationships there, and then figure out what we want to do next.
Chief Blaney has expressed interest in creating a full-length graphic novel, using comics to reach both Indigenous youth within the community and youth outside of it. I’m hopeful that we can continue this project, potentially bringing more cartoonists on board. I’d love to keep telling stories about traditional knowledge and subsistence methods of the Homalco people, learn from this project, and invite other First Nations to join us.
But that’s a long-term goal. Right now, we need to find out what the Homalco First Nation wants from us and explore how we can support that together. We might also consider reaching out to CUES again for funding to help make this happen.
Cecil Hershler: I totally agree with Biz about focusing on finishing this project and celebrating it in the short term. If we can dream ahead, I’ve always envisioned taking this comic novel and putting it onto a storybook website. This way, it can be held in hand in paper form, but also be accessible digitally.
The dream is to have it available in multiple languages, including the Homalco language. The digital version would maintain the same visual art but offer translations and the option to hear the words spoken aloud. I would love to see it completely in Homalco text and hear it. This next stage of putting it onto a website and making it available in different languages, with audio options, is something I’m excited about.
Excerpts from the Graphic Novel
Thank you for reading! We hope you enjoyed the interview and found valuable insights to enhance your community-university initiatives.