What symbols from your culture represent belonging? Six Indigenous students across UBC were invited to visually represent cultural symbols that hold deep meaning in their identities, histories, and traditional teachings.
The Faculty of Arts and First Nations House of Learning are honoured to showcase and celebrate student artists as knowledge-keepers. From traditional beadwork and Formline Design to pictographs, native plants, and the language of ceremony, each student connects deeply to their Indigenous heritage and lands through artistic practice.
Whether honouring grandparents through images of eagles and grizzlies, teaching children the foundation of ovoids, or gathering around a kitchen table to create beadwork, these works express the intergenerational resilience and vibrancy of Indigenous Nations across the country. This Indigenous Symbols and Signifiers initiative was made possible by the UBC Strategic Equity and Anti-Racism Enhancement Fund.
Please note edits have been made to this Q&A for clarity and tone.
Jazmine Andrew (she/her)
St̓át̓imc from the Lil̓wat Nation
Jazmine, also known as Ts̓qáxa7, was gifted her traditional Ucwalmícwts name by her late grandfather, Chief Fraser Andrew. She is Sinhalese from Sri Lanka on her maternal side and St̓át̓imc from the Lil̓wat Nation on her father’s side. While completing her studies at UBC, Jazmine continues to engage with her community through being a šxʷta:təχʷəm advisor at the First Nations Longhouse. She loves expressing herself through art and is most drawn to painting, beadwork, and poetry.
What’s the significance of eagles and the sweat lodge in your culture?
I used the eagle kind of to represent my grandfather. Eagles are seen as a spiritual animal in our culture. Always a good sign. Whenever I see an eagle I think about my grandfather. My grandfather was the late Chief Fraser Andrew. He was very respected in our community. Everybody knew him, lots of people ceremonied with him. A lot of the teachings that I carry with me are all things that I learned from him, and growing up with him in the sweat lodge. It’s a way of taking care of ourselves, praying for ourselves, your family, your community, and your ancestors. That’s why there are four rounds. It’s been a big part of my life. I was in the sweat lodge before I was even born; while my mom was pregnant with me, I was in my grandpa’s sweat lodge. Just having that connection to my family through their lodge, it really brings people and community together. It’s a really special way to take care of each other and honour who we are, too. My grandfather is a big part of who I am, so that’s why I included the sweat lodge and the eagle.
“In our culture, we don't waste anything. I had some scraps from the process of making my buckskin dress and regalia, which I used as hair on the horse in the painting. I also had some cedar bark scraps that I used to form the sweat lodge, and I created beadwork that I attached to the horse as well.”
Brittney Townrow (she/her)
Heiltsuk First Nation
Brittney is a Heiltsuk artist, educator, and PhD student deeply committed to sharing her culture through art and education. Her work integrates traditional Heiltsuk practices, such as Formline Design, with modern techniques. As a lifelong learner, Brittney continues to exchange teachings and practices with fellow educators and students from age three to Grade 7, connecting community members of varying backgrounds.
Can you tell us about your Formline art?
I’m really excited to share that I have some laser-cut wood of Formline Design, which is traditional for my community. We have different shapes, and I was hoping these shapes could be used as a teachable moment. Within every shape is the name of the shape engraved into it. We have the Ovoid, we have the U-Shape, we have the S-Shape. The Quinton is my favorite. I love teaching the kids different ways to have a shared language to talk about the art we see every day around our community.
I work at an independent school close to UBC… I bring in the same materials to the three-year-olds and the grade sevens, and having that sort of shared language across the school is so important. I also explained that my community is not from here, and I shared that we are on Coast Salish territory and that these are Coast Salish shapes and design elements.
“Being a lifelong learner and understanding that everyone is on their own journey, but if we walk alongside each other, we’ll get there together. Art is such a beautiful way to teach students and the community. The more we know, the better connected we can be to each other.”
When people think of Indigenous art, they often think of totem poles. It’s important to understand that totem poles aren’t from Coast Salish communities—they’re from the Northwest Coast. So, we need to honour the shapes that are local to here, while recognizing that Formline is from my community. It consists of similar shapes to Coast Salish art, but there are some noticeable differences, too.
So the ovoid, which is how I often start teaching kids about the shape, has a flat bottom and an arch. When we’re drawing it, I get the kids to draw a line, and then imagine a rainbow, and come back around. These shapes are often used in pictures, as eyes or joints. If there’s a bear, for example, this would be the main shape used for the head. The Ovoid is sort of the base shape that’s often used in Indigenous art.
Robyn Adams (she/her)
Red River Métis
Robyn is Red River Métis from her mother, and Ukrainian from her fathers side. She is a citizen of the Manitoba Métis Federation with Michif family names Bruneau, Nault, Curé and Harrison, some of whom took scrip in the Rat River Settlement and St. Boniface, Manitoba. Her practice looks at relationships with the land and water through the intricate weaving of Indigenous knowledge, ceremony, art, and architecture. She seeks to create an architecture of poetic joy, alongside the matriarchs who have helped steward a sense of home for Indigenous communities through the dark times, to forge paths into brighter futures.
How does the practice of beadwork share knowledge about the land?
There are so many teachings in beadwork, work made today and ancestral work. I often go to museum archives and find grandmother beadwork pieces. I love to learn from those works because they still hold a spiritual presence the beader wove into them and when researching the patterns, materials and archival history you can learn quite a bit about land-based processes. Some include the way materials were processed, like animal hides, natural dyeing of silk threads, or you can learn about plant identification and communities in relationship through patterns. How work is assembled also teaches about relationships of materials, knowledge, seasonality etc. Some patterns commonly known are mouse tracks, because of the mouse track pattern in snow – which is the green stem and tendril motif in my work which really highlights the connection between elements, and relationships of more than human ecologies between kin.
In my beadwork piece, Kinship Table; la taab di li vwaazayn, I am inspired by Michif folklore, historic architecture, and Michif beadwork, all of which includes both cultural and geographic Manitoba landscape. This work was made for my thesis, where I made a Virtual Reality video game using Unreal Engine 5, focused on worldbuilding through architecture, folklore, and beadwork.
I’m learning about how the teachings of beadwork can impact the design process in architecture from consultation to construction and really create more culturally informed, and sustainable buildings. Across disciplines today beadwork, and its traditional ecological knowledge is weaved into teachings and really resurfacing with Indigenous youth at the forefront.
“The kitchen table was actually the methodology behind my thesis project, with Michif folklore, architecture and traditional beadwork. I designed a video game where beadwork acts as a map for relationships and a fantasy world. At the end of the game, all the folklore characters come together and enjoy a meal around the kitchen table.”
Riannon Wesley (she/her)
Nlaka’pamux and Tsimshian First Nations
Riannon, also known as Tlekamiidext, is Nlaka’pamux and Tsimshian with an ardent interest in pictographs and art. When living on reserve over the summer at the Nicomen Indian Band, Riannon enjoys spending time outdoors, camping, and foraging with her family. Her art practice is unique and sustainable, reflecting inspiration from combining interior Salish and coastal artwork practices, showcasing her bloodline and connection to both communities.
What artwork symbols represent your Nlaka’pamux and Tsimshian heritage?
For the pictographs, I used red sinew and red bugles to add some texture to it. The sinew comes from the deer, which we call Sméyis, and it represents the mountains in the basketry work. I didn’t know if I wanted to paint the sides, but since my mom and I came up with the name “Rooted,” I figured I might as well add the cedar roots on the sides, too.
What really drew me to it was the combination of pictographs and the coastal work, because I’ve never really seen that done. So the pictographs—there are a lot of them—to mesh together the Nlaka’pamux and Tsimshian artwork, because with Tsimshian artwork, they do a lot of ovoids and more fine line work.
“The trunk has a pictograph that means 'life,' and that's the whole point of the presentation: it's kind of like a circle, and it’s consistently flowing, like how the water rises from the ocean and then rains down onto the trees… So the pictographs—there are a lot of them—to mesh together the Nlaka’pamux and Tsimshian artwork.”
Koyah Morgan-Banke (she/her)
t̓uk̓ʷaaʔatḥ (“Toquaht”) First Nation
Koyah has ancestry tied to multiple nations, but is registered under T̓uk̓ʷaaʔatḥ, one of the smaller members among the nuučaan̓ uł (Nuu-chah-nulth) nation, and whose traditional territory spans Du Quah, Deekyakus (Toquaht River), and Macoah. Koyah expresses her heritage through art, incorporating her language and culture into various class projects and through her work with The Michael Smith Laboratories at UBC and the Indigenous Student STEM Lounge.
What’s the significance of the colour red in your culture?
In a lot of traditional Formline artwork, colourways are very restricted. Growing up, we had a lot of artwork in our household, and most of it only used black, white, and red. So, when I find these combinations out in the world, I always associate them with my culture and the art of my people. I wanted to bring that into this project using my own style. So I drifted away from traditional Formline a little bit and added more of a comic pop art feel.
There’s a lot of cultural significance tied to red, especially when it comes to our resources. When I thought about red, I instantly thought of things like red cedar, the keystone species—sockeye salmon. I still have sockeye salmon in my freezer from our last round of fish. Just seeing that in my freezer was inspirational as well. Additionally, we have huckleberries, blackberry juice—so many important resources for Indigenous people are red, so I wanted to show that.
“There’s a lot of cultural significance tied to red, especially when it comes to our resources. When I thought about red, I instantly thought of things like red cedar, the keystone species—sockeye salmon—so many important resources for Indigenous people are red, so I wanted to show that.”
Kineena Kang (she/her)
Anishininiimowin First Nation
Kineena is part of the Anishininiimowin First Nation reserve (also known as Big Trout Lake) at Kitchenuhmaykoosib Inninuwug, and was named after her grandmother, who was part of the reserve. Growing up, she was involved in ceremonies and a braiding sweetgrass program, and she found a way to continue contributing to the community by being the deputy treasurer for the Indigenous Student Society. Through studying psychology, Kineena is paving her path into getting her Master’s in business and working in real estate. Kineena also aims to find innovative ways to help the environment through increasing the reusability of products and reducing waste.
How does your painting reflect the balance between cultural loss and cultural resilience?
In my painting, the person fishing is drawn more as a silhouette, not fully detailed. That’s to reflect the energy people may carry when it comes to culture, and how that can sometimes prevent cultural knowledge from being passed down. But I think cultural activities, groups, and community building can help strengthen identity and create pride so that culture isn’t lost or forgotten. That was a big part of my inspiration.
I also gave the fish an Indigenous art style. It’s a more modern way of fishing, too—a blend of tradition and the present. Even with changes over time, people can still stay connected to their culture.
“With the theme of belonging, I was thinking about what tribe or Nation I belong to, and that's Big Trout Lake, Ontario. I was looking at pictures of the lake and remembered the first ones I saw were from my great-grandmother, whom I was named after.”
