Kallie Wood didn’t mince words when she described the first-ever Indigenous bison seminar as a room where people finally came to understand one another. That clarity of purpose reflects a deeper shift in how Indigenous communities and mainstream agriculture are approaching bison recovery on the Prairies—one that blends ancient knowledge with modern ranch management, environmental stewardship, and economic opportunity.
The memorandum of understanding signed between the National Circle for Indigenous Agriculture and Food (NCIAF) and Bison Producers of Alberta (BPA) didn’t emerge from symbolic gesture alone. It builds on the federal Indigenous Prairie Bison Initiative, a $5-million, three-year program designed to reintegrate bison into Indigenous territories for food security, ecological restoration, economic development, and cultural reclamation. For communities like Alexander First Nation, where Councillor James Arcand speaks of merging Indigenous ways of knowing with Western agricultural practices, the goal isn’t just to bring bison back—it’s to do so in a way that respects both heritage and contemporary realities.
The challenge is real. Mike Jacobson, COO of Noble Premium Bison, put it plainly: “They have to learn how to manage these animals properly because it’s not 200 years ago anymore.” Modern bison ranching demands knowledge of animal husbandry, land management, and market access—skills that aren’t always accessible to communities rebuilding cultural and economic ties to the land. That’s where the collaboration between Indigenous producers and established bison associations becomes critical. The seminar in Red Deer wasn’t just about sharing stories; it was about sharing survival strategies in a changing climate, a volatile market, and a regulatory landscape that wasn’t designed with Indigenous values in mind.
Wood, a member of Carry the Kettle Nakoda Nation, framed the dialogue as more than dialogue. “If you look at our shared history in this country and all of the barriers and policies and acts that were put in place so that we couldn’t practise agriculture, I think it’s … advice and mentorship from those who’ve been in it for a very long time,” she said. The exchange isn’t charitable; it’s reparative. It recognizes that bison restoration isn’t just ecological—it’s a form of healing, one that requires dismantling legacies of exclusion while building new systems grounded in shared responsibility.
For Nathaniel Ostashewski, a bison rancher and BPA board member, the seminar represented a cultural pivot. “It needs to be a ‘we,’ not a ‘them and us,’” he said, echoing a sentiment that cuts across Indigenous and non-Indigenous attendees alike. The goal now is to turn this initial gathering into a scalable learning model—an open online course, accessible at a distance, that can reach remote communities and new producers alike. In an era where agricultural education often defaults to digital or institutional channels, Ostashewski’s vision is rooted in accessibility: knowledge shouldn’t be gated behind fees, location, or language.
At the seminar, Lisa Nadeau of the Agricultural Research and Extension Council of Alberta listened closely. Her environmental farm plan program, which assesses soil health, water protection, and biodiversity, may soon need to adapt to include bison reintroduction—an entirely new scope for many Indigenous operations. “They don’t have the same experiences that other farms may have, and culturally are approaching it in a different way,” she noted. The acknowledgment speaks to a quiet revolution: environmental assessment tools, long designed for monoculture or cattle systems, must now evolve to accommodate rotational grazing, ecosystem restoration, and Indigenous land stewardship principles.
Connections forged in Red Deer are already rippling outward. Alexander First Nation connected with Sioux Valley Dakota Nation in Manitoba, both of which have received their bison herds. Arcand described exchanging herding techniques and learning from each other’s approaches. “You can kind of put your guard down here in this space because everybody is after the same common ground, which is protecting the bison, giving them a better quality of life,” he said. The language is telling: it’s not just about production—it’s about dignity, respect, and shared purpose.
Wood closed the conversation with a reminder that reconciliation isn’t a destination, but an ongoing practice. “When we talk about reconciliation, the key piece of that is the action,” she said, invoking the Dakota term *wo inina*—to make things right. This seminar was one such action. The next will likely be measured not in agreements signed, but in bison calves born on Indigenous land, in new markets opened, in environmental plans updated, and in the quiet strength of communities reclaiming what was taken.

