The Story
Before colonialism, Indigenous Peoples across this land lived within systems of relational accountability that had been developed, practised, and refined over thousands of years. In Gitxsan territory, that system is called ayook: a living body of law governing how people relate to one another and to the land. Governance happened in the feast hall, where decisions were witnessed publicly, where the ’nii dil (the opposite clan) verified that business was conducted with integrity, where leaders were required to consult horizontally before acting, and where xsiisxw (compensation and cleansing) provided pathways for repairing harm. Together, these practices formed a sgano: a woven fabric of reciprocal accountability holding all Houses and territories together as one. Every Nation had its own version: governance structures that held communities together through reciprocal obligation, witnessed agreements, and the understanding that every person’s belonging was woven into the fabric of the whole.
Colonialism disrupted those systems. Residential schools, reserves, the Indian Act, forced relocations, and policies designed to divide and assimilate Indigenous Peoples broke the relational structures that had held communities together. The damage was not only to individuals or to communities as social units. It was to the systems of trust that made collective life possible. That damage lives on in our institutions, in our social patterns, and in the ways our bodies carry the memory of generations of harm.
Lateral violence is one of the consequences of that disruption. It is the tendency of peoples from oppressed groups to direct their frustration, anger, and harm toward members of their own communities. In Indigenous communities across Canada, lateral violence shows up as gossip, shaming, gatekeeping who belongs, exclusion, infighting, and the quiet, corrosive conflicts that erode trust from the inside. Research tells us it is prevalent, largely covert, and deeply painful. Many people experience it. Many people contribute to it. Almost everyone recognises it. And yet it is rarely named openly, because it is treated as taboo, as shameful, as something we do not talk about.
Lateral violence is not a personal failing. It is structural. It thrives in governance environments where information is hoarded rather than shared, where belonging is conditional and used as leverage, where decisions are made behind closed doors, and where there are no pathways for naming harm or restoring relationship. Governance is the most powerful site where lateral violence is reproduced, because governance shapes the communications environment that an entire community lives within. Every newsletter, every community meeting, every response to a complaint, every silence communicates something about whether trust is being built or eroded.
The Cedar Campaign breaks that silence
Lateral trust is what we build when we choose a different way. It is the relational and structural condition that grows when governance and communities practise four things together: transparent communication, where information flows openly and decisions are shared with care; honouring belonging, where every person’s place is affirmed and protected; accountable decision-making, where leadership takes responsibility openly and the people affected are part of the process; and relational repair, where harm is named without shame and there are real pathways for restoring relationship. These four practices work as an interconnected system. When any one breaks down, the others are weakened. When all four are present, lateral trust grows.
Lateral trust is not a feeling. It is a practice. It is something we build together, intentionally, every day.
Why Cedar
Cedar is traditional medicine for Indigenous Peoples across British Columbia and much of Canada. It heals. It is also the material of creation: canoes, longhouses, totem poles, bentwood boxes, regalia. Cedar builds.
The cedar trees standing on our lands today were alive before contact. They remember what our Peoples’ relationships looked like before colonialism disrupted them. The knowledge of how to be in good relationship with one another did not disappear. It is held in the land, in the trees, in the living systems that survived colonialism even when human systems were dismantled.
A cedar bough is living, green, and growing. It carries the scent of the land. It is a small part of something much larger: the tree remains whole. The bough carries the medicine, the memory, and the life of the tree without harming the source. Cedar boughs are evergreen. They persist through winter. They do not shed when things get hard.
The memory cedar holds is not only ecological. It is relational. Cedar remembers a time when governance was witnessed publicly, when belonging was woven into the fabric of community, when there were ways to name harm and restore relationship. That memory is held in the land and in our bodies. When you wear a cedar bough, you carry medicine. You carry the memory of what trust looked like before it was disrupted. And you carry a commitment to rebuild it through practice.
Where This Began
The Cedar Campaign was founded by Gabby Hillis, a Gitxsan woman and member of the Kispiox Band (Anspayaxw), living and working in the Kispiox Valley in northern British Columbia, along the Highway of Tears. Working in her own Band Council’s governance, Gabby saw lateral violence up close in the communities she loves. Trained in public relations and immersed in the research on lateral violence, she came to understand that lateral violence is, in many ways, a communications problem: it thrives where transparent, equitable, and relational communications practice is absent from governance. She came to understand, too, that the harm of colonialism is not only relational and institutional. It is carried in the body, passed intergenerationally through patterns that shape how we respond to conflict, how we perceive safety, and how we relate to one another in moments of stress.
The solution is building lateral trust: the structural counterpart to lateral violence, produced through the sustained practice of transparent communication, honouring belonging, accountable decision-making, and relational repair in Indigenous governance.
The Moosehide Campaign was born along the Highway of Tears in response to violence against women and children. The Cedar Campaign was born along the same corridor in response to the violence communities direct inward toward their own members. These campaigns are complementary. Both say: violence in our communities is a legacy of colonialism. We name it. And we choose something different.
The Four Practices
Transparent communication. Information flows openly and equitably. Decisions, rationale, timelines, and processes are shared with the community proactively, before people have to ask. When governance withholds information, speculation, gossip, and suspicion fill the gap. Transparent communication is the practice that replaces information hoarding with trust.
Honouring belonging. Every community member’s place is treated as inherent and unconditional. Belonging is never used as leverage or withdrawn as punishment. Gatekeeping, exclusion, and identity policing are named as patterns that undermine trust. Governance communications, policies, and practices affirm that every person matters.
Accountable decision-making. Decisions are made through clear processes, communicated with rationale, and open to appropriate scrutiny. Leadership takes responsibility for outcomes and communicates both successes and failures honestly. Accountability flows in all directions: leadership to community, community members to one another, and individuals to the collective.
Relational repair. When harm occurs, there are pathways for acknowledgement, accountability, and repair. The community has shared language for naming lateral violence without shame, and shared practices for moving through conflict toward restored relationship. Silence is recognized as one of the biggest barriers to healing. Naming harm is the first act of rebuilding.
These four practices are interconnected and mutually reinforcing. Transparent communication creates the conditions for honouring belonging. Honouring belonging creates the safety needed for accountable decision-making. Accountable decision-making builds the trust needed for relational repair. And relational repair sustains transparent communication, because repaired relationships keep the channels open.
Indigenous governance systems always carried these practices. In Gitxsan governance, they were carried through the feast system: public witnessing, the ’nii dil verification role, horizontal consultation, and xsiisxw. The Cedar Campaign and the Lateral Trust Framework reconnect those strengths with the governance structures communities navigate today.