A Day with Qwestenuxun: We are the Land, Walking on the Land

“When we work to regenerate Indigenous foods, we’re not just regenerating what we eat — we’re literally regenerating the land we’re on. And without realizing it,

we’re regenerating ourselves.” – Jared Qwestenuxum Williams

On a misty fall morning at Xwaa’quum, a group gathered under the golden maple’s leaves to hear stories and teachings from Cowichan chef and food systems expert Jared Qwestenuxun Williams. He opened with a song, inviting us to close our eyes and imagine, as he beat his drum, the sound of  dozens of Cowichan people approaching the estuary village from the water, creating rhythm by gently tapping their paddles on the edges of their canoes. 

As we stood beneath what many know as Mount Maxwell, Qwusetenuxun shared the legend of Hwmet'utsun (“the Hunched-Over Mountain”). “Stories live in the landscape,” he explained, sharing how the mountain got its name through its role in defeating a fearsome aquatic monster.  He told the story — in which the mountain itself bends down to allow clearance for a giant’s slung boulders — to illustrate how place names are breathing and alive, all around us. 

For the rest of the day, as we walked through a fir forest to the clam-strewn beach, Questenuxun’s every word reflected the ways in which language and land are intertwined.

ReIndigenizing Food Systems 

Qwestenuxun led the group down to the Xwaa’quum estuary, or ‘place of merganser ducks’. We learned that the area we were standing — now forested — would once have been mostly open meadows growing camas, each actively maintained by Indigenous families. These clearings weren’t random; they were cultivated landscapes, shaped through burning, harvesting, and care. When settlers arrived, colonizers saw these managed meadows as “natural pastures” and appropriated them as grazing fields for cattle, destroying the camas ecosystems.

The Salt Spring Farmland Trust, who hosted Qwustenuxun’s workshop, invited him come and teach based on the question: how can Indigenous food systems, that sustained people on these lands for thousands of years, be revitalized? 

Qwestenexun explained how his Nation are reintroducing traditional foods to the land at an estuary restoration across the water in Cowichan Bay. It’s a long, patient process. While others want five-year plans, he argues for five-generation plans. When asked how long it would take before Indigenous foods could be used widely, he flipped the question: Western agriculture has had full access to the land and technology for over a century and still feeds only a fraction of the population. If Indigenous people had that same access, he argued, they could feed everyone — because their systems work with the land, not against it.

He pointed out that most of the world’s staple crops — potatoes, tomatoes, corn, squash — came from Indigenous agricultural systems of the Americas. Yet colonization ignored the foods and knowledge that already existed here. He wondered what would happen if we advanced those systems. 

In answering the Farmland Trust’s question, he invited us to consider an even deeper question: “What if all peoples combined their ancestral knowledge to restore the land rather than dominate it?” 

He criticized “Western food supremacy” — the idea that European cuisine is the only “right” way to cook or eat. He shared how, even in culinary schools around the world, chefs must learn French cuisine, regardless of their own traditions. Instead, he proposed, “we should ask not what the right way is, but what another right way could be.”

He also noted that relying solely on wild harvesting isn’t sustainable; the future lies in integrating Indigenous foods into agriculture. Settlers and farmers can grow traditional plants like camas in gardens, community farms, or private plots, creating new systems that respect Indigenous knowledge while feeding more people.

That’s exactly what Stqeey’e Society are doing as part of the wetland restoration project in Xwaaxuum (Burgoyne Bay). Until November 13, volunteers are invited to help plant over 10,000 native plant species in the valley beneath Hwmet'utsun (Mt. Maxwell) - to find out more and to volunteer, contact rachel@stqeeye.ca.

From Colonialism to Interconnectedness

When asked how non-Indigenous people can help with this movement, Qwustenuxun shared that it’s not just about volunteering on weekends or asking to join projects. It’s about changing the conversation at home—with your family, friends, and communities. 

Reflecting on the colonial myth of isolation, which claimed that Indigenous peoples were disconnected and primitive so colonizers could justify conquest, he hoped that people could educate themselves and spread the truth: that Nations along the coast were deeply interconnected through trade, technology, and language. The presence of potatoes from Peru on the Northwest Coast — long before European arrival — evidences this vast web of trade. 

Finally, he explained that the land itself reflects this interconnectedness — meadows, clam beds, and village sites were carefully managed and passed down through family stewardship. Ownership wasn’t about domination but about responsibility and relationship. Each family had its harvesting grounds, and portions were left open for guests and visitors — a system designed for both respect and sustainability.

“Everything we eat comes from the Earth; we are the land walking on the land.” 

Questenuxun urged us to understand that “healing the land means healing ourselves. Every culture once knew this — not just First Nations but all peoples, before they were pulled away from their own homelands.”

“People hear ‘Land Back’ and they get scared, like it means we’re going to take something from them. But we’re not like that. Land Back isn’t about taking land from someone — it’s about restoring land to balance and to the people who know how to care for it. When the first colonists came, our people welcomed them … it’s never too late to do what we said we’d do before — help each other.”