Truth & Reconciliation in Engineering 2026
The act of reconciliation Truth and Reconciliation Commission’s (TRC) Calls to Action defines the act of reconciliation is defined as: "Establishing and maintaining a mutually respectful relationship between Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal peoples in this country. In order for that to happen, there has to be awareness of the past, an acknowledgement of the harm that has been inflicted, atonement for the causes, and action to change behaviour." Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada, “Honouring the Truth, Reconciling for the Future.”
Resources to read
Honouring the Truth, Reconciling for the Future
Honouring the Truth, Reconciling for the Future (PDF)
Summary of the Final Report of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada
Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada: Calls to Action
Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada: Calls to Action (PDF)
Why we begin with a Land Acknowledgement By Pal Mann, CD, FCSSE, FEC, P.Eng., ICD.D, CEO & Registrar, Engineers Nova Scotia At Engineers Nova Scotia's conference, gala, and annual business meeting, one of the first things attendees will hear is a land acknowledgement. For some, it is a meaningful expression of respect. For others, it may feel like an increasingly routine part of public events. Still others may question whether it serves any practical purpose at all. I understand those perspectives. In fact, I think asking why we do it is precisely the right question. The answer, at least for me, has less to do with reciting prescribed words and more to do with understanding where we are, how we got here, and what responsibilities come with that understanding. As engineers, we spend our careers shaping the physical world. We design roads, bridges, buildings, energy systems, communications networks, water infrastructure, and technologies that influence how people live and interact with their environment. We are trained to assess risk, understand consequences, and consider the long-term effects of our decisions. Yet perhaps one of the most important questions we can ask is whether we fully understand the places where those decisions unfold. A land acknowledgement invites us to pause and consider that question. Long before modern institutions, provincial boundaries, or engineering projects existed, Indigenous peoples lived, travelled, governed, and cared for these lands. Their histories, knowledge systems, and relationships with the natural environment did not begin with European settlement, nor did they end because settlement occurred. Recognizing that reality is not about assigning blame for the past. It is about acknowledging the truth of our shared history. Some will argue that acknowledgements have become symbolic gestures. There is merit in that concern. Any practice repeated without thought risks losing its meaning. Words alone do not advance reconciliation, repair relationships, or address the very real challenges still faced by many Indigenous communities. But I believe the alternative is not better. Choosing not to acknowledge history does not make it disappear. Choosing not to discuss it does not make it less relevant. If anything, it risks reinforcing the very lack of understanding that many Canadians have spent years trying to address. To me, a land acknowledgement is less about looking backward than it is about learning how to move forward.
One concept that has informed my thinking is the Mi'kmaw principle of Etuaptmumk, often referred to as Two-Eyed Seeing. It encourages us to use one eye to see the strengths of Indigenous ways of knowing and the other eye to see the strengths of Western ways of knowing, and to use both together for the benefit of all. As engineers, that idea should resonate with us. Engineering has traditionally relied on technical analysis, scientific evidence, and measurable outcomes. These are essential tools. But they are not the only ways people understand the world around them. Indigenous knowledge often offers a perspective rooted in interconnectedness, stewardship, community relationships, and long-term environmental responsibility. Neither perspective is diminished by acknowledging the other. In fact, we often make better decisions when we are willing to listen to more than one way of understanding a problem. I also see a connection between this conversation and our professional obligations. Our Code of Ethics asks us to hold paramount the safety, health, and welfare of the public and to have regard for the environment and sustainable development. Those responsibilities extend beyond calculations, specifications, and regulatory requirements. They ask us to think about the broader impacts of our work, including the lasting effects it has on people, communities, land, water, and future generations. In that sense, a land acknowledgement can serve as a reminder that engineering projects do not take place in a vacuum. Every project exists somewhere. Every decision affects someone. Every intervention alters a landscape that carries both ecological significance and human history. Whether one supports or opposes land acknowledgements, I believe it is worth reflecting on why the conversation exists in the first place. • What do we owe to the people who came before us and to those that will come after us? • What can we learn from perspectives different from our own? • How do we balance progress, development, and innovation with stewardship and respect for the places where that progress occurs? • And how might our profession benefit from considering more than one way of seeing the world? I do not believe a land acknowledgement answers those questions. But I do believe it encourages us to ask them, and perhaps that is its greatest value, because awareness is not reconciliation, and reflection is not action. Yet the path to both begins with understanding, and understanding often begins with a willingness to pause, listen, and consider a perspective that may not be our own. For engineers, whose work helps shape the future, that seems like a worthwhile place to start.
The act of consultation "The act of consultation is more than an exchange of information and note taking. It should represent a willingness to listen and discuss Indigenous Peoples’ concerns and to be prepared to accommodate their concerns. Engagement explores opportunities beyond community involvement in the project delivery, such as the supporting their efforts to assert sovereignty through strengthening their governance systems." Engineers Canada, " Guideline on Indigenous Consultation and Engagement"
Resources to read Guideline on Indigenous Consultation and Engagement (PDF)
Guideline on Indigenous Consultation and Engagement Guideline on Indigenous Consultation and Engagement - June 2023
Indigenous knowledge reshapes engineering education at Dalhousie By Dalhousie University Engineering Communications first published on April 27, 2026 A course in Dalhousie’s Faculty of Engineering is reshaping how students understand their role as engineers, offering a rare opportunity to learn through Indigenous knowledge systems. Developed in collaboration with the Ulnooweg Education Centre and an advisory council of Indigenous partners and community members, Indigenous Perspectives in Engineering supports students in understanding both the history and responsibilities of working with Indigenous communities and lands. Led jointly by the COO of Ulnooweg, Christopher Googoo, and Dalhousie Civil Engineering alum and instructor Levi Morrison, P.Eng. (BEng’13), the course combines Indigenous knowledge systems with applied engineering practice. “The course has really been designed to look at engineering through a non-western worldview,” says Morrison. “So it introduces Indigenous knowledge systems, governance structures, and what true partnership looks like alongside engineering practice.” The course combines lectures, case studies, and collaborative discussions
designed to encourage students to think critically about the broader impacts of engineering work. Rather than relying on traditional textbooks, the course centers around Indigenous-authored texts and lived experiences. Many of the case studies focused on projects that had taken place in Mi’kma’ki and Wolastoqiyik territory, while also expanding to broader examples across Turtle Island. “Chris and I worked to ensure Indigenous leaders in their fields delivered content throughout the course” says Morrison. “We also incorporated talking circles to support reflection and dialogue centred on texts produced by Indigenous authors.” Through these discussions, students were encouraged to understand that engineering exists across many knowledge systems, including Indigenous ways of knowing, and carries responsibilities that extend beyond technical design to relationships with land and community. “This work is about understanding that Indigenous knowledge frameworks are rooted in relationships with the land, and how those relationships inform engineering practice,” Morrison explains. “It also asks students to consider the responsibilities engineers carry in relation to treaties, the duty to consult, and meaningful engagement, and to
reflect on how different worldviews shape their approach to the work.” “All of the course cotent was cocreated with knowledge holders, Indigenous educators, and the Ulnooweg Education Centre,” adds Googoo. Beyond the classroom, the course is part of a broader effort to strengthen pathways for Indigenous students in engineering. The course was introduced as part of the Faculty of Engineering’s Inclusive Pathways to Engineering Careers Program, launched in 2023. The program aims to remove barriers and expand access to engineering education for equity-deserving groups. In partnership with Ulnooweg, the Faculty established an Indigenous stream within the Pathways Program to support Indigenous students through academic preparation, mentorship, cultural programming, and career guidance. As part of their efforts to strengthen Indigenous student support and engagement, they also opened a dedicated Indigenous student centre on Sexton Campus last Fall, which provides a space for community-building, academic support, and cultural connection. “We’ve been working very closely with Dalhousie over the years, and I think it’s been enlightening to work with them through this process. Their
adds that interest also came from across all disciplines in the Faculty of Engineering, with many nonIndigenous students taking part. With 30 spots initially available, enrolment was increased to 35 as demand for the course grew.
COO of Ulnooweg Education Centre, Christopher Googoo (left), with Dal Engineering alum and Instructor, Levi Morrison (right) openness to not just walk alongside us, but to step back and allow Indigenous leadership to guide this work has been meaningful,” says Googoo. Ulnooweg has played a key role in shaping the work at Dal, helping guide both the development of the course and the broader partnership model behind it. “They’ve (Dal Engineering) really allowed us to take the lead in defining the real scope of what this whole program should look like, not just the course, but the support services around it and who should be involved.” Googoo says Ulnooweg’s involvement is rooted in a long-standing mandate to support Indigenous education, training, and community development, while also addressing systemic barriers that continue to affect Indigenous participation in STEM fields. “There are clear capacity gaps in areas like technology and the innovation economy across Nova Scotia, and even more so in Indigenous communities. Strengthening pathways into fields like engineering is essential.” says Googoo.
“Alongside that is the need to highlight knowledge and histories that are often absent from mainstream education, including a more complete and accurate understanding of Indigenous and Canadian history.” For Googoo, this work is also closely tied to reconciliation, not only through curriculum change but through longterm relationship-building between institutions and Indigenous communities. “The goal is not to position this (new course) as a history course, but rather to explore the systems and structures that exist in response to those histories, and how they can support broader efforts toward healing and progress,” he says. “Ultimately, the focus is on creating conditions where all young people can succeed, build strong communities, and access meaningful opportunities. Engineering is just one part of that broader vision.” Googoo says the impact is already being felt within Indigenous communities, with strong student interest in the Indigenous Perspectives in Engineering course. Morrison
While the course wrapped up in early April, Googoo and Morrison say planning is already underway for next year, including discussions around enrolment, timing within the engineering curriculum, and how the structure may evolve. “It’s going to constantly change to reflect the needs of the students, and how communities can participate. It’s going to be highly iterative,” they say. Morrison adds that the course will continue to balance reading, writing, and case-based learning, with participatory elements such as talking circles also playing an important role. The goal is for students to leave with a stronger understanding of meaningful community partnership and the ability to critically reflect on engineering practice in the field. This includes recognizing responsibilities under the Peace and Friendship Treaties and approaching engineering work with those commitments in mind. For Googoo, one of the most important goals is also who the course reaches, as well as how students carry that learning forward. “I hope students leave with a deeper understanding of what is possible when relationships are built with care and respect,” he says. “And that they carry that forward, not just in their work, but in how they engage with Indigenous communities.”
Building bridges: Kalolin Prosper on engineering, identity and community University's much larger academic environment. When Kalolin Prosper was growing up in Paqtnkek Mi'kmaw Nation, a small community outside Antigonish, Nova Scotia, engineering did not seem like an obvious path.
Kalolin Prosper, Dalhousie University engineering student "I realize that as a child I enjoyed building houses for my Barbies more than playing with Barbies," Kalolin Prosper says. She remembers drawing plans. "I was creating blueprints in the dirt and building clubhouses out of any materials that we could find around." When thinking about a career, initially Kalolin believed architecture might be the right fit. But as she progressed through school, she realized engineering offered the combination of building, math and problem-solving she was looking for. "I still wanted to be involved in building," she says. "I started realizing more and more as time went on how much I was enjoying math. And here I am." That journey took her from a closeknit community where everyone knew one another to Dalhousie
"Coming from one of the smaller Indigenous communities in Nova Scotia, there was a common mindset at the time around not being able to do something as crazy as engineering, let alone get off the reservation at all," she says. Now in her fourth year of civil engineering at Dalhousie University, pursuing a structural engineering certificate, Kalolin is one of a growing number of Indigenous students helping reshape who belongs in engineering and how the profession can better serve communities. Her journey has taken her from a graduating high school class of just 30 students to engineering lectures containing hundreds of people, all while navigating questions of identity, belonging and representation. "My high school graduation class was about 30 people," she says. I've noticed a significant difference coming to Dalhousie where the classrooms sizes are much larger. The class dynamic certainly is different." The transition was not easy. " I've experienced culture shock, moving
outside of my community. It's very lonely," Kalolin says. In her early years away from home, she travelled back frequently to reconnect with family and the support system she knew. Over time, however, she found new sources of belonging in Halifax. One of the most important has been Dalhousie's Indigenous Student Support Centre. "It has been so helpful," she says. "It creates a sense of community in the school. We have a place to go. We have a place to talk about anything that we want to talk about. It is safe zone for us.” The centre became especially helpful after Kalolin took time away from school and later returned to continue her engineering studies. "Getting back into the groove of school habits and learning how to use my calculator again," she says with a laugh, "it was really helpful." More than academic support, the centre created a sense of belonging. "It's kind of like our own little smallknit family on campus," she says. "I feel like it's the reason that I did as well as I did to get into my fourth year." Kalolin’s educational experience has also been shaped by strong role models, particularly the women in her family. Her grandmother, whom she affectionately calls Kiju, and her mother have always been “school-forward.”
Kalolin believes Indigenous perspectives can also strengthen engineering itself. "I have a different viewpoint coming into this," she says. Indigenous knowledge is the inter-connectedness of everything, and about bridging the gaps between communities and their environments. It is the use of "Etuaptmumk" meaning Two-Eyed Seeing, incorporating Western knowledge and Indigenous knowledge together to understand the world and solve complex problems. Which is what in turn, engineers try to do.
Kalolin and her Kiju. Prosper remembers growing up, her mom told her, “I don't care if you want to be a clown, you're going to clown school.” When Kalolin was considering whether to return to university or pursue a leadership opportunity elsewhere, she went to Kiju for advice. “I said, ‘I have two paths here I was going to apply for the position in my community and felt confident I could get it. I think it'll be good for me. I think it'll be good for resume building. I think it'll be a great opportunity. Or I go back to school, and I’ll finish my degree,” Kalolin recalls, "She told me, 'Go back to school. That way, if when you get a job, it can be any job you want.'" That support extends beyond academics. Kalolin credits her grandmother with helping her stay connected to culture and community through ceremonies and traditional practices. "Whenever my spirit's a little down, I go back home," she says. "We do sweat lodge ceremonies. That's the
moment I can ground myself and release what doesn't serve me.” Those cultural connections remain central to how Prosper approaches engineering. "My culture is my identity," she says. "It is who I am. It is the morals and values that have been instilled in me." As she has progressed through university, she has come to realize that the opportunities available to her are far broader than she once imagined. "I thought that my opportunities were limited," she says. "I realized more and more as the years go on how unlimited they are and how capable I am." Today, younger students from her community contact her for advice about university and engineering. "I was one of the first people that I knew of going into this field," she says. "I didn't have the same access to advice or help that I am capable of offering people now."
Too often, she argues, projects are viewed primarily through economic lenses. "Sometimes it's not all economic strategy," she says. "It's environmental strategy and community strategy that Must be thought of as a whole.” That perspective becomes especially important when working with Indigenous communities. "I want our communities to be able to work with engineers who understand what they are trying to communicate and have similar understandings for project outcomes,” she says. Kalolin believes increasing the number of Indigenous engineers could have a profound impact on consultation processes and trust-building between communities and project proponents. "There will be a huge difference," she says. "I know that bringing more Indigenous engineers into the field and having them connect with Indigenous communities will bridge that gap." Her perspective comes partly from experience working around consultation processes herself.
She has also faced assumptions because she is light-skinned. "I've had people ask me very disheartening questions about Indigenous people, my people, because they feel more comfortable asking me because I look more like them" she says. "These questions hurt my heart," she says. "They sometimes get in my head where I'm like, 'Do I belong here?'" Kalolin puts a lot of pressure on herself to succeed. She is studying not just for herself but “for her community, her culture, and her people, not just in Nova Scotia, not just in Canada, but all Indigenous people.”
A childhood photo of Kalolin and her youngest sister. "I appreciate the experience I received working with these companies, but I know there are improvements that can be made,” she says. Engineers, she believes, are trained to solve problems. The challenge is ensuring they are solving the problems communities are identifying while also adhering to Design Codes and project limitations. We don't have enough people in engineering with solving what the community wants solved instead of solving what they believe needs to be solved for us." In addition to increasing Indigenous representation in the profession, Kalolin believes schools and workplaces must continue creating inclusive environments where students from all backgrounds feel supported.
Interestingly, one of the things she has come to appreciate about university is something that initially intimidated her: large classrooms. "I have a new appreciation for these large classroom sizes because they are so diverse," she says. "I get to see people of many different cultures coming together." "In a large classroom, you can be sure if you have a question, other people have the same one, and one of you will ask it." Still, her journey has not been free from difficult experiences. Kalolin says she has encountered stereotypes and misconceptions about Indigenous people throughout her education. "I've had people tell me, 'I didn't think Indigenous people existed anymore,'" she says. "That one kind of shocked me and hurt my soul."
One area she feels particularly passionate about is the role of allies. Her advice is straightforward. "Come into community. Be a part of the community. Be a sponge," she says. Listening, she says, matters more than speaking. "You're here to learn from our people. Listening is the best way to learn. We are storytellers by nature.” As graduation draws closer, Kalolin already has a vision for where she hopes engineering will take her. Her immediate goal is to work for a consulting firm and earn her professional engineering designation. Longer term, however, she is thinking big. "I think I would enjoy opening my own firm," she says. "I don't know of an Indigenous consulting firm. A lot of Indigenous communities would enjoy having working with one.” It is an ambitious vision, but one that reflects the themes running throughout her story: community, representation, transparency and connection. Kalolin hopes that more Indigenous youth will see what she once struggled to see herself: that engineering is not a path reserved for someone else.