
In the Sea to Sky, we talk often about honouring Indigenous voices and learning from elders. School districts, governments, and institutions regularly say that reconciliation begins with listening.
But sometimes the most important voices are already speaking to us — and we are simply not listening.
One of those voices belongs to Chief Simon Baker, whose autobiography Khot-La-Cha: The Autobiography of Chief Simon Baker is one of the most remarkable firsthand accounts of Coast Salish life ever written.
And yet, on the North Shore — in the very place he lived, worked, and taught — the book is rarely read.
That should trouble us.
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Chief Simon Baker was not a distant historical figure. He was a Squamish elder who spent his life speaking to schoolchildren, sharing stories, demonstrating regalia, and explaining the cultural teachings of his people. His autobiography records those teachings in his own voice.
In its pages, Baker describes growing up on the Capilano Reserve, learning from his grandmother, Mary Capilano, travelling Burrard Inlet by canoe, and witnessing enormous change in his homeland. He writes about residential school with honesty — including the devastating loss of his brother Jim to illness while they were both students.
But Baker’s story is not defined by grievance. It is defined by responsibility.
Again and again he returns to the same message: young people must learn both worlds. They should go to school and learn the modern world, he says, but they must also return home and learn the teachings of their own people. Culture, language, songs, and stories are not relics — they are knowledge that must be passed forward.
This is not theoretical scholarship. It is lived history.
Recently, the Squamish Historical Society provided archival film to the producers of a documentary about Squamish figure Gwen Harry. Along with those materials, the Society also shared the title of Baker’s autobiography as an important historical source connected to the region.
The response from the filmmakers was polite interest.
But there was no follow-up.
When the question of the book’s absence from current discussions was raised with Squamish Nation Councillor Deanna Lewis, the explanation offered was simple: the book is not widely read today because it was written “before.”
Before what?
Before reconciliation became a national priority?
Before Indigenous knowledge became central to educational curricula?
Before we said we wanted to hear from elders?
If anything, those developments make Baker’s voice more essential — not less.
What Baker left behind is not merely a memoir. It is a cultural record. In clear language he explains the meaning of the talking stick, the symbolism of Thunderbird, Bear, and Killer Whale crests, and the teachings embedded in songs passed down through generations. He describes the philosophy of four cycles — seasons, stages of life, colours, and winds — that shape Coast Salish worldview.
He also speaks plainly about the challenges facing his community later in life: addiction, social struggles, and the need for elders to step forward and guide young people back to cultural foundations.
These are not abstract issues. They are exactly the conversations communities are having today.
And yet the words of one of the most respected Squamish elders remain largely absent from classrooms.
Why?
Why are North Shore and Sea to Sky students not reading this book?
Much of the world Chief Simon Baker describes in his autobiography unfolded in the Capilano area — a place thousands of North Shore residents pass every day without realizing the depth of history beneath their feet.
Why are Squamish Nation youth not being given the opportunity to hear directly from one of their own elders describing the history of their people in his own voice?
If reconciliation truly means listening, then surely the writings of elders should be among the first texts we place in the hands of young readers.
The Squamish Historical Society exists to preserve and share the history of this region. That history includes Indigenous voices, settler voices, and the complicated stories that connect them. Chief Simon Baker’s autobiography belongs at the center of that shared understanding.
His words were written to be passed on.
He believed knowledge should move forward through generations — from elder to youth, from story to memory, from memory to understanding.
Today the book sits largely out of circulation, known mainly to historians and collectors.
That should change.
Imagine if every student on the North Shore read the words of Chief Simon Baker. Imagine if Squamish Nation youth encountered his teachings not as fragments quoted in lectures but as a full story told by the elder himself.
We would not only be honouring his voice.
We would be doing exactly what he asked us to do: listen, learn, and pass the knowledge forward.
Despite being out of print, Khot-La-Cha: The Autobiography of Chief Simon Baker remains preserved in major academic and public collections across Canada. Copies are held by institutions such as the University of British Columbia Library, the University of Victoria Libraries, and the Library and Archives Canada. In other words, historians and researchers across the country recognize the book as an important historical source. Yet in the very communities where Chief Simon Baker lived, taught, and shared his stories with schoolchildren, his autobiography is not available. That contrast raises a simple but important question: if we truly value the voices of elders, why are we not reading them where their history happened?
If reconciliation means anything at all, it should begin with that.
I would be very interested to know whether your institution has ever considered including Khot-La-Cha: The Autobiography of Chief Simon Baker in local curriculum or recommended reading lists for students learning about the history of the North Shore and the Squamish Nation. If not, I would welcome the opportunity to discuss how this important primary source might be made more accessible to students today.
Thank you for your consideration.
Bianca Peters is the President of Squamish Historical Society



