Chilliwack, BC
Victoria, BC
Parliament Buildings, Victoria
Parliament Buildings, Victoria
Gift to BC by Grand Chief Steven L. Point
Parliament Buildings, Victoria
In British Columbia, the word “reconciliation” carries profound weight. It evokes the ongoing process of redressing historical and present-day injustices against Indigenous Peoples and building relationships based on respect, truth, and justice. But what does reconciliation look like in practice, beyond symbolic gestures or apologies? Increasingly, organizations across the public sector, non-profits, and private industry are discovering that reconciliation requires concrete commitments and sustained effort over time. This understanding has led to the rise of Reconciliation Action Plans (RAPs) – documents that bridge the gap between good intentions and transformative action. A Reconciliation Action Plan sets out an organization’s tangible commitments to advancing the reconciliation process. More than just paperwork, a RAP is a roadmap for change, guiding institutions on how to turn words into accountable deeds in partnership with Indigenous Peoples. In this narrative, we explore the concept, purpose, and growing importance of RAPs, with a particular focus on British Columbia’s legal, policy, and social context. The journey of RAPs is one of learning and unlearning, of ethical responsibility and practical change, and of moving from rhetoric to reality on the path toward justice.
The idea of a Reconciliation Action Plan emerges from the broader movement to ensure reconciliation is not just a lofty ideal but a lived process. One important origin can be traced to Australia, where since 2006 thousands of organizations have adopted RAPs as a way to turn good intentions into meaningful action. The Australian model, pioneered by Reconciliation Australia, formalized the notion that organizations should have structured plans for reconciliation. It defined multiple stages – Reflect, Innovate, Stretch, and Elevate – allowing organizations to continuously deepen their commitments over time. This approach underscored a key intent behind RAPs: reconciliation is a journey, not a one-time checklist. An organization might begin with an introductory plan focused on internal reflection and relationship-building, and then progress toward more operational plans with concrete targets and broader impact. In essence, the RAP concept was born from a desire to embed the principles of reconciliation into the fabric of organizational life, ensuring that everyday operations contribute to healing and justice rather than perpetuating harm.
In Canada, and particularly in British Columbia, the call for such actionable plans gained momentum with the work of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC). In 2015, the TRC released 94 Calls to Action, urging governments, institutions, and all Canadians to address the legacy of residential schools and advance reconciliation. Crucially, these Calls to Action made it clear that reconciliation is everyone’s responsibility – not only governments but also businesses, schools, and civil society. For example, Call to Action #92 specifically calls upon the corporate sector to adopt the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (UNDRIP) as a framework for reconciliation, and to commit to meaningful consultation and initiatives that uplift Indigenous communities. One way businesses and organizations have responded to this call is by creating Reconciliation Action Plans, which provide a structured way to implement such commitments. The intent is straightforward yet profound: to move beyond apologies and territorial acknowledgements, and into deliberate action. As many Indigenous leaders have emphasized, reconciliation requires more than just words – it demands concrete deeds that drive change. A RAP is, at its core, a manifestation of that demand for action. It is a tool to translate good intentions into tangible progress, ensuring that the promise of reconciliation is backed by accountability.
Nowhere is the need for actionable reconciliation more evident than in British Columbia. This province’s history and present are deeply interwoven with Indigenous Peoples, encompassing over 200 distinct First Nations, Métis, and Inuit communities. The legacy of colonization – from the dispossession of lands without treaties in much of BC, to the devastating impact of the residential school system – has created pressing social and legal imperatives to reconcile with Indigenous Peoples. In recent years, BC has been at the forefront of policy and legal commitments to Indigenous rights. A landmark development came in 2019, when British Columbia became the first Canadian province to enshrine UNDRIP into law through the Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples Act (DRIPA). DRIPA commits the provincial government to align its laws with UNDRIP and to work in partnership with Indigenous Peoples on this journey. It explicitly required the development of an Action Plan to implement UNDRIP in BC. In 2022, the BC government released this official action plan, outlining 89 tangible measures to advance UNDRIP’s objectives over five years. The provincial Action Plan’s themes – self-determination, title and rights, ending Indigenous-specific racism, and closing socio-economic gaps – signaled a comprehensive and accountable approach. Annual public reports on progress are mandated, reinforcing that reconciliation work must be transparent and measurable. This government-led plan set an important example: reconciliation efforts should be concrete, sustained, and evaluated over time.
The influence of these developments has rippled across sectors in BC. TRC’s calls and DRIPA’s legal mandate have together created an environment where organizations increasingly recognize that they too must act. The social context is also driving this change. There is growing public awareness in BC of Indigenous issues – from the findings of unmarked graves at former residential school sites, to movements asserting land rights and fighting pipelines. There is also a moral climate in which institutions are expected to respond to the TRC’s calls and to uphold Indigenous rights as human rights. In this context, Reconciliation Action Plans have gained prominence as a structured way for organizations to declare and implement their commitments. A RAP in British Columbia often explicitly references key frameworks like the TRC Calls to Action, UNDRIP, and local Indigenous priorities. Indeed, some RAPs are developed in direct response to these drivers. For instance, the Legal Aid BC Reconciliation Action Plan (2018–2023) was crafted after considering “the Truth and Reconciliation Commission’s Calls to Action and Principles; the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples; and the need to reduce the number of Indigenous people in the child protection and criminal justice systems,” among other inputs. This shows how a BC organization situated its plan firmly in the wider reconciliation mandate set by TRC and UNDRIP.
In short, British Columbia’s legal and policy landscape – epitomized by DRIPA – together with the TRC’s national blueprint for change, have made RAPs increasingly relevant. They are a way for organizations to align with the province’s reconciliation commitments and to contribute to the broader social movement towards justice for Indigenous Peoples. The intent is not only to comply with new norms or laws, but to genuinely participate in healing the relationship between Indigenous and non-Indigenous peoples. As we turn to how RAPs function as tools for change, it is important to remember this context: in BC, a RAP is often both a response to calls from Indigenous voices and a proactive step to fulfill the responsibilities that history has placed on this generation.
What exactly does a Reconciliation Action Plan look like? At its heart, a RAP is a structured roadmap that an organization creates to guide its journey toward reconciliation. Rather than vague promises, it contains concrete actions, target outcomes, and timelines. A RAP lays out how an organization will change its policies, culture, and relationships in order to advance reconciliation in ways meaningful to Indigenous peoples and communities. “Tangible commitments” is a key phrase – the plan is meant to include specific steps the organization will take, which can be tracked and reported on. In this way, a RAP becomes a tool of organizational change management: it identifies areas where change is needed and marshals the organization’s resources and people to achieve those changes over time.
While every Reconciliation Action Plan is tailored to the context of the organization that authors it, there are common themes and components that frequently appear. Many RAPs begin with a focus on education and internal awareness. Before an organization can change outwardly, it must ensure its members understand why reconciliation is necessary. This often involves facing uncomfortable truths about history and the organization’s own role in colonial systems. It is not unusual for a RAP to mandate training for staff and leadership – for example, cultural competency workshops, seminars on the history and legacy of residential schools, or anti-racism training led by Indigenous facilitators. Such education builds a foundation of understanding and empathy. Legal Aid BC’s RAP, for instance, emphasizes that staff have an important personal role in increasing their awareness and understanding of reconciliation. In their plan, Legal Aid BC organized its strategies under three pillars – Education, Equity, and Empowerment – signaling that learning is the first step, followed by concrete changes to achieve equity and to empower Indigenous clients and communities. This illustrates how an internal change in mindset and knowledge is considered fundamental. By educating themselves, organizations create a common ground of respect and humility from which to act.
Alongside internal education, RAPs outline practical actions and reforms that the organization commits to implement. These actions span a wide range of domains. A recurring element is building relationships with Indigenous Nations and communities. A RAP will often include commitments to reach out to local First Nations, Métis or Inuit partners, to listen to their priorities, and to collaborate on initiatives. Meaningful engagement with Indigenous communities is considered essential, as it grounds the plan in real partnership rather than paternalism. One key aspect of any RAP is engaging with Indigenous communities and organizations to understand their unique needs and to support their goals. For example, a municipality’s reconciliation plan might commit to regular meetings with the local Nation’s council, co-development of community projects, or formal protocols for seeking consent on activities affecting Indigenous lands. This relationship-building not only ensures the actions are culturally respectful and relevant, it also helps rebuild trust that has been eroded by decades of broken promises.
RAPs also frequently include measures to change organizational policies and culture to be more inclusive of Indigenous peoples. Many plans set targets for hiring and retaining Indigenous staff, recognizing that bringing more Indigenous voices into the organization at all levels is crucial for lasting change. This might involve revising hiring practices, creating internship or mentorship programs for Indigenous youth, or establishing Indigenous staff networks. Similarly, RAPs often address the work environment – committing to create inclusive and welcoming spaces for Indigenous employees and clients, perhaps by incorporating Indigenous art and land acknowledgments in offices, or providing cultural leave for Indigenous staff to participate in ceremonies. Training in intercultural competency, conflict resolution, and anti-racism is another common commitment, ensuring non-Indigenous staff develop the skills to work respectfully and effectively with Indigenous colleagues and clients. In sectors like education or healthcare, a RAP might include commitments to incorporate Indigenous knowledge systems and practices into service delivery, thus transforming the organization’s core activities to better serve Indigenous peoples.
Another practical dimension is economic participation and support. Organizations may use their RAP to pledge concrete support for Indigenous prosperity. This can take the form of procurement policies that favor Indigenous-owned businesses for contracts and supplies, or investment in Indigenous-led initiatives. For instance, a private company’s plan might commit to spending a certain percentage of its budget on Indigenous suppliers, or a university’s plan might create scholarships for Indigenous students and funding for research in Indigenous communities. The idea is to leverage the organization’s resources to create opportunities and address inequities. In British Columbia’s context – where Indigenous communities continue to work towards economic self-determination – such commitments in RAPs help align organizations with the broader goal of Indigenous economic empowerment.
Crucially, a well-crafted Reconciliation Action Plan doesn’t just list actions; it also establishes mechanisms for accountability. This means the plan should have clear goals, deadlines, and metrics to measure progress. It often identifies who within the organization is responsible for each action item, and how progress will be tracked and reported. Transparency is key. Many organizations publicly release their RAPs and periodically report on what has been achieved. For example, the Canadian Bar Association – BC Branch (CBABC) adopted its first RAP in 2018 and, after a comprehensive review of progress and changing circumstances, updated it for 2023–2025. The current CBABC Reconciliation Action Plan guides their board in setting priorities each year, and staff in executing annual operating plans. Moreover, CBABC commits to report progress in its Annual Report and to formally review and renew the plan at the end of its cycle. This is a strong model of accountability: by integrating the RAP into yearly planning and reporting, the organization ensures the plan isn’t forgotten on a shelf. Transparency and regular review make the RAP a living instrument of change, rather than a static declaration.
In summary, a RAP is a structured framework for change, covering education, relationship-building, policy reform, economic inclusion, and accountability. It serves both as an internal guide and an external statement of commitment. By following a RAP, an organization embarks on a path of transformation – changing how people think and act within the organization, and changing how the organization interacts with and supports Indigenous Peoples. The structured nature of a RAP provides clarity and focus: it breaks down the enormous work of reconciliation into specific, manageable actions that accumulate to significant change. And yet, while structured, a RAP must also be flexible and responsive, which brings us to the idea of RAPs as evolving, “living” processes.
Why are organizations embracing Reconciliation Action Plans? The reasons span both ethics and practical benefits, and indeed the two are deeply interconnected. At the ethical level, developing a RAP is a response to a moral imperative: the responsibility to address historical and ongoing wrongs against Indigenous Peoples. In British Columbia (and Canada as a whole), virtually every institution has been touched by colonial policies – whether through benefiting from Indigenous lands, or through participating (knowingly or unknowingly) in systems that marginalized Indigenous voices. Embracing reconciliation is fundamentally about truth and justice. It means acknowledging those truths – the harms of the past and present – and taking responsibility to change course for a more just future. Organizations are increasingly recognizing that doing nothing is not a neutral stance; it perpetuates the status quo of injustice. Therefore, committing to a RAP is often described as “the right thing to do.” It is an act of institutional conscience and integrity, aligning the organization’s values with actions.
A RAP carries an ethical commitment to honor Indigenous rights and dignity. For example, many plans explicitly state support for self-determination, echoing UNDRIP’s principle that Indigenous Peoples must be able to control their own destiny. Ethically, this means organizations must shift from unilateral decision-making to partnership approaches, especially when their work touches Indigenous interests. We saw this in the Legislative Assembly of British Columbia’s Reconciliation Action Plan (2024–2028), which was created with extensive engagement of Indigenous leaders from across the province. The Speaker of the BC Legislature noted in the plan’s introduction that true reconciliation “requires more than just words; it demands concrete actions”, reflecting an ethical understanding that lofty statements alone are empty if not backed by change. He also emphasized that reconciliation is an ongoing commitment, not a one-off project. This sentiment – that we have a duty to move from apologies to action, and to sustain that effort – is at the heart of why RAPs carry moral weight. Each action item in a RAP can be seen as a small act of justice: whether it’s returning land to Indigenous stewardship, reforming a policy that unfairly impacts Indigenous clients, or simply ensuring staff learn about whose territories they live on, these steps are part of righting relationships that have been wrong for far too long.
Beyond ethics, organizations also recognize practical benefits to undertaking a Reconciliation Action Plan. These benefits are not about exploiting reconciliation for gain, but rather the positive outcomes that naturally flow when an organization becomes more inclusive, knowledgeable, and connected with Indigenous communities. One clear benefit is improved relationships and trust. By engaging sincerely with Indigenous Nations and organizations, institutions often find new partners and allies. A school district that forms a strong relationship with the local First Nation, for instance, will be better equipped to support Indigenous students and incorporate authentic Indigenous perspectives in curricula. A business that works closely with Indigenous communities might gain social license for projects and learn ways to operate more sustainably on the land. Trust and goodwill are invaluable assets; they reduce conflicts and create opportunities for collaboration that benefit everyone.
Internally, RAPs tend to foster a more aware and culturally competent workforce, which can improve organizational effectiveness. Staff who undergo training and engage in dialogue about reconciliation often report a deeper understanding of colleagues and clients, and an increased ability to work in diverse teams. For organizations that serve the public, like health authorities or universities, having employees who are sensitive to Indigenous cultures and traumas can lead to better service delivery – patients feel safer, students feel more welcome, and outcomes improve. Legal Aid BC acknowledged this practical dimension: its RAP is aimed not only at advancing reconciliation broadly but also at ensuring legal aid services better meet the needs of Indigenous peoples in BC. By guiding its work with a reconciliation lens, Legal Aid BC can address barriers that previously led to disproportionate Indigenous involvement in the justice system. In this way, what is ethically sound – providing equitable access to justice – is also practically effective in achieving the organization’s mission.
Organizations also find that RAPs can catalyze innovation and growth. When you start asking fundamental questions – How can we do things in a way that respects Indigenous knowledge? How can our organization contribute to Indigenous community well-being? – the answers often lead to creative solutions that might not have been considered before. New programs, services, or business models can emerge. In the corporate world, engaging with Indigenous communities and businesses can open new markets and partnerships. For example, a company that commits to supplier diversity may discover innovative Indigenous entrepreneurs and products, enriching its supply chain. Furthermore, having a reputation as an organization committed to reconciliation can attract talent; many young professionals, both Indigenous and non-Indigenous, want to work for organizations that demonstrate social responsibility. A RAP thus can make an organization more competitive and resilient in a diverse society.
Finally, there’s an accountability benefit: a RAP puts public pressure and internal pressure on an organization to follow through. Once commitments are written down and shared, stakeholders – be it community members, shareholders, or employees – can hold the organization to account. This pressure can be productive, keeping reconciliation high on the priority list even when other challenges arise. As one observer put it, “Reconciliation Action Plans are a critical tool to ensure that businesses operate in a socially conscious and responsible manner”. They assist in the broader reconciliation process and honour the hard work that went into creating frameworks like UNDRIP, the TRC Calls to Action, and DRIPA. In other words, RAPs link the day-to-day operations of an organization with these larger societal projects, ensuring that noble commitments do not fade into neglect.
In sum, the drive to adopt Reconciliation Action Plans in BC (and beyond) stems from a blend of ethical duty and practical wisdom. There is the moral realization that reconciliation must be pursued actively by every organization that has capacity to make a difference. And there is the practical recognition that doing so will strengthen the organization and the communities it serves. By building internal awareness, structuring concrete commitments, and fostering relationships, RAPs create a bridge between the words we speak about reconciliation and the sustained actions needed to make it a reality. They are as much about changing hearts and minds as about changing policies – and both are necessary for reconciliation to move forward.
One of the remarkable aspects of Reconciliation Action Plans in British Columbia is how widespread and diverse their adoption has become. What began perhaps with a few early adopters has grown into a movement spanning multiple sectors. In the public sector, we have seen government ministries, Crown corporations, municipalities, and even the Legislative Assembly itself embrace RAPs or similar reconciliation plans. In 2024, the BC Legislative Assembly released its first Reconciliation Action Plan, setting out commitments to guide the institution’s actions for the next four years. It was notable not only for being the first legislature in Canada to do so, but also for how it was developed – through province-wide engagement with Indigenous leaders and with all-party support. The legislative RAP includes commitments to make the Parliament Buildings more inclusive and representative of Indigenous Peoples, among other goals. This example at the heart of BC’s democracy sends a powerful message that reconciliation must infuse all levels of governance.
Local governments are also taking up the mantle. Municipalities across BC, from large cities to smaller towns, have been working on reconciliation strategies which often mirror the intent of RAPs. The City of Vancouver, for instance, adopted a strategy to implement UNDRIP at the municipal level, committing to dozens of actions such as formally recognizing traditional place names and transferring some decision-making power to local First Nations. Other cities have struck reconciliation committees or working groups to formulate action plans. Some regional districts are engaging with First Nations on joint initiatives and looking to develop formal reconciliation action plans for their operations. School districts, too, are part of this trend. Education is a critical arena for reconciliation (the TRC devoted many Calls to Action to education reform), and BC school districts have responded with various initiatives. A number of school districts have drafted their own reconciliation action plans or “Equity in Action” plans focusing on Indigenous student success and incorporating Indigenous content in the curriculum. For example, School District 23 in Kelowna went through a comprehensive process called “Equity in Action for Truth and Reconciliation,” examining data and working with local Indigenous communities to identify gaps and set targets for improvement. In these educational contexts, a RAP might include commitments like hiring more Indigenous educators, creating space for Elders and Knowledge Keepers in schools, revising teaching materials to include Indigenous history and worldviews, and tackling systemic racism that affects Indigenous students. By framing these goals in an action plan, school districts can systematically work toward more inclusive and successful schools for Indigenous learners.
The post-secondary sector has also been active. Many colleges and universities in BC have developed strategic plans or action plans focused on Indigenous reconciliation. While they might not always label them “RAPs,” the structure is similar: clear goals such as increasing Indigenous enrolment and graduation, integrating Indigenous knowledge into courses, supporting Indigenous faculty, and building respectful relationships with the First Nations on whose territories the campuses sit. For instance, the University of British Columbia launched an Indigenous Strategic Plan that outlines dozens of actions across governance, research, teaching, and student support – effectively an action plan for reconciliation within the university context. Smaller institutions, like community colleges, have likewise embraced this approach, often working closely with nearby Indigenous communities to guide their priorities.
In the private and corporate sector, Reconciliation Action Plans have gained significant traction, especially among companies that understand the importance of social responsibility and the business case for reconciliation. In British Columbia, industries such as finance, telecommunications, natural resources, and professional services have seen leading companies adopt RAPs. A notable example is TELUS, the Vancouver-based telecommunications company. TELUS became one of the first technology companies in Canada to commit to a public reconciliation action plan, launching a five-year Indigenous Reconciliation Action Plan (often abbreviated IRAP) around 2020. This plan is comprehensive – it covers internal changes and external commitments – and TELUS has embedded it in their corporate strategy. To ensure the plan is grounded in Indigenous perspectives, TELUS established an Indigenous Advisory Council made up of Indigenous leaders and experts to guide and advise on the implementation of their reconciliation actions. Through its IRAP, TELUS set out pillars such as Connectivity (expanding broadband to Indigenous communities), Enabling Social Outcomes (supporting community programs), Cultural Responsiveness (improving service for Indigenous customers), and Economic Reconciliation (including Indigenous peoples in their business). Each pillar has specific initiatives, and the company publishes an annual Indigenous Reconciliation & Connectivity Report sharing Year 1, Year 2, Year 3 results and lessons learned. By doing so, TELUS remains “steadfast in our accountability to our reconciliation commitments”. The presence of a major corporation taking this approach has rippled outwards – other businesses look to such examples and see reconciliation is becoming a standard part of good corporate citizenship in BC.
Beyond TELUS, we see banks, law firms, and industry associations developing RAPs. The Canadian Bar Association’s BC branch, as mentioned, has its plan for advancing reconciliation in the legal profession. The Canadian Institute of Planners (CIP), a national professional body which includes many BC planners, is developing a RAP and has even delineated phases for it (from internal learning to outward advocacy). In the natural resource sector, some mining and forestry companies operating in BC have begun releasing reconciliation or Indigenous relations action plans, often as part of their response to the TRC calls and as a way to build better partnerships with First Nations on whose territories they operate.
Crucially, non-profit organizations and NGOs are also part of this movement. Non-profits that work in areas like social services, environmental conservation, or the arts have come to recognize that they too have roles to play in reconciliation. We have examples of NGOs developing RAPs to guide how they include Indigenous knowledge in their programs or how they partner with Indigenous communities in projects. Even small community organizations have started informal action plans – the scale may be different, but the intent is the same. For instance, a local historical society might create a reconciliation action plan to redesign its museum exhibits with local First Nations input, while a social enterprise might have a plan to ensure its services are accessible and welcoming to Indigenous clients.
What all these varied efforts share is the understanding that reconciliation must happen in every context – education, government, business, law, health, environment, arts, you name it. There is no one-size-fits-all RAP; each plan is deeply influenced by the organization’s mission and the community it serves. A school district’s plan will naturally look different from a bank’s plan. Yet, the diversity of formats and settings for RAPs is a strength. It shows that reconciliation is not limited to a single sector or approach. The underlying principles – truth, respect, equity, and collaboration – are being woven into many different kinds of organizational fabric. And these sectors often learn from each other. A municipality might draw inspiration from a corporation’s published RAP report, or a non-profit might use the framework from a university’s plan as a template for their own. There is a growing network of knowledge around RAPs, and increasingly, support resources are available. In fact, frameworks like that of Reconciliation Australia or guides from Canadian organizations help inform those embarking on this work. The result is a kind of cross-pollination: as more RAPs are developed, it becomes easier for the next organization to start theirs, having examples to look to.
In British Columbia today, having a Reconciliation Action Plan (or an equivalent under a different name) is fast becoming a norm for forward-looking organizations. It signals to Indigenous communities and to the public that an organization is serious about reconciliation. It also creates a sense of community among organizations on this journey – an awareness that we are all, in our different spheres, contributing to a larger project of societal change. And importantly, the broad uptake across sectors reflects an acknowledgment that reconciliation is not the work of one department of government or one day of observance per year; it is woven into all aspects of society. The momentum in BC suggests that RAPs will continue to evolve and proliferate, reinforcing each other and pushing standards higher. As more success stories emerge – a RAP leading to a strong partnership with a First Nation, or measurable improvements in Indigenous employment at a company – they motivate others to aim higher in their own plans.
With all this focus on planning and structure, one might wonder: is there a danger that a Reconciliation Action Plan becomes just a bureaucratic exercise, a box to tick off? This is a critical question, and it leads to perhaps the most important insight about RAPs: they must be understood as living processes, not static documents. A RAP is not meant to be written, applauded, and then forgotten in a filing cabinet. Instead, it is iterative, adaptive, and ongoing. The metaphor of a journey comes up again and again when people talk about this work. As the Speaker of the BC Legislative Assembly wisely noted, “true reconciliation is not achieved through a single act, but rather through ongoing commitment and concerted effort”. In practical terms, this means a RAP should continuously evolve along with the organization’s growth and the changing context.
Many organizations explicitly state in their plan that it is a “living document.” For example, the City of Yellowknife’s reconciliation action plan (to draw a parallel from a northern context) declares that the plan “is a living document that will be refreshed and adapted to reflect the City’s work and priority areas”, with a commitment to review and update it on an ongoing basis. This principle is very much embraced by BC organizations as well. When CBABC reviewed and renewed its RAP after four years, that was a sign of a living process – learning from what worked and what didn’t, and adjusting the commitments accordingly. Some organizations set up internal structures to keep the RAP alive, such as committees or working groups that meet regularly to monitor progress. In larger institutions, there may even be dedicated staff roles or departments for Indigenous initiatives that take ownership of driving the RAP forward.
The concept of phased progress ties into this living nature. A RAP often has phases or editions – you might start with an introductory phase that lasts a year or two, then move into an “innovate” or operational phase with more ambitious targets, and so on. Reconciliation Australia’s framework of Reflect, Innovate, Stretch, Elevate RAPs is illustrative: it allows organizations to continuously develop and deepen their reconciliation commitments over time. We can see similar thinking in Canadian contexts. The Canadian Institute of Planners, for example, envisions a three-phase approach: first Learning & Gathering (building understanding and assessing where the organization stands), then Implementing changes, and finally elevating efforts to influence broader change in their sector. The key takeaway from these models is that reconciliation work is iterative. Early on, an organization might focus inward – asking “what don’t we know?” or “how have we been complicit in the problem?”. With lessons learned and relationships started, the next iteration of the plan can set bolder goals – perhaps shifting from planning to doing, from small pilot projects to company-wide changes. In later stages, once an organization has gained confidence and seen progress, it might take on a leadership role – advocating for reconciliation in its industry or sharing best practices with others, thus contributing to systemic change beyond its own walls.
Seeing a RAP as a living process also means embracing the fact that reconciliation has no neat endpoint. There is no point at which one can say, “We have reconciled, job done.” Instead, each achieved action opens the door to the next one, in an ongoing striving for better relations and justice. Organizations must be ready to learn continuously – sometimes learning from mistakes or criticisms. For example, if a certain initiative in the plan isn’t working or an approach is unintentionally causing harm, the living nature of the plan allows for course correction. This flexibility is not a weakness but a strength; it shows humility and responsiveness. In a way, treating the RAP as living ensures that the spirit of reconciliation – which requires listening, reflecting, and adapting – permeates the process itself. It guards against complacency, reminding everyone involved that reconciliation is a long journey of heart and mind, not a destination you reach with one document.
Another aspect of keeping RAPs alive is regular reporting and public accountabilit, as mentioned earlier. Annual progress reports, public updates, or even informal blogs and newsletters can keep the wider community informed and engaged. This not only demonstrates accountability but also keeps the momentum. When employees or community members see that progress is being made, it builds trust and motivation to continue. Conversely, if progress is lacking, transparent reporting creates pressure to pick up the pace or rethink strategies. It’s a way of self-monitoring that ensures the RAP doesn’t gather dust. In British Columbia, some organizations have tied their RAP progress into existing accountability mechanisms. For instance, a city might include reconciliation updates in its official annual municipal report, or a corporation might integrate RAP metrics into its environmental, social, and governance (ESG) reporting for shareholders. By doing so, they signal that reconciliation is as important as financial or other performance – something to be measured and evaluated regularly.
Ultimately, calling a RAP a “living document” is acknowledging that reconciliation itself is dynamic. It must respond to new developments – legal changes, social movements, guidance from Indigenous partners, and internal shifts in the organization. A great example of responsiveness is how RAPs may evolve as Indigenous communities articulate new goals or concerns. If a First Nation issues a call to action of its own (say, regarding stewardship of local watersheds or reviving a language), an organization engaged in reconciliation might adapt its plan to support that call. In this way, a RAP can always be in dialogue with the real world. It’s not a fixed contract; it’s more like a covenant that can be renewed and enriched over time.
At the heart of any authentic Reconciliation Action Plan is a simple truth: reconciliation is about relationships between peoples, and thus Indigenous leadership and voice must be at the center of the process. A RAP is not something an organization can unilaterally impose or script without Indigenous input. Doing so would risk repeating the very patterns of exclusion and paternalism that reconciliation seeks to undo. Therefore, one of the most critical principles of RAPs – and one that is increasingly emphasized in British Columbia – is that Indigenous Peoples should be partners, leaders, and primary stakeholders in the development and implementation of these plans.
What does this look like in practice? It can take many forms, depending on the context. In some cases, organizations form Indigenous advisory councils or committees (as we saw with TELUS’s Indigenous Advisory Council) to guide their reconciliation efforts. These bodies are typically composed of Indigenous community members, elders, knowledge keepers, or experts relevant to the organization’s field. They provide insight, set expectations, and hold the organization accountable in a very direct way. For instance, an Indigenous advisory committee might review a draft RAP and point out areas where the language or approach is off-base, or they might suggest additional actions that the organization’s internal team hadn’t considered. This was the case for the BC Legislative Assembly’s RAP, where the Speaker convened an Indigenous Reconciliation Advisory Committee; the resulting plan is explicitly the product of extensive engagement with Indigenous leaders. By involving Indigenous advisors from the start, the Legislative Assembly acknowledged that it needed guidance from those with lived experience and cultural knowledge to get the plan right. The Speaker openly expressed gratitude for the committee’s “thoughtful guidance and support” in translating good intentions into tangible progress.
In other situations, centering Indigenous voice means co-developing actions directly with communities. If a RAP commitment involves a certain First Nation (for example, a commitment to jointly develop an economic initiative on that Nation’s territory), then that action should only be defined and carried out in full partnership with that Nation’s representatives. The community essentially becomes a co-author of that piece of the plan. This approach aligns with the concept of free, prior, and informed consent under UNDRIP – working with Indigenous Peoples on decisions that affect them. It also aligns with Indigenous principles of relational accountability: the idea that if you are going to do something that involves Indigenous people, you are accountable to those people in how you do it.
Moreover, centering Indigenous leadership often requires organizations to step back and listen. A RAP is as much about listening as it is about planning. Organizations might hold dialogues, circles, or town halls with Indigenous community members to hear what reconciliation means to them and what they would like to see happen. These narratives and suggestions can then form the backbone of the RAP’s priorities. For example, if Indigenous employees of a company voice that they do not feel culturally safe at work, a RAP can prioritize creating an Indigenous employee network or introducing cultural safety protocols. If local elders say that the company’s land operations are harming sacred sites, the RAP can put measures in place for cultural site protection and regular consultation with those elders. By basing the plan on what Indigenous voices highlight, the organization shows respect and a willingness to change based on others’ realities, not just its own perception of what is needed.
Affirming Indigenous leadership also ties into the outcomes of a RAP. Ultimately, reconciliation is about returning power and resources to Indigenous Peoples that were taken away or denied. A strong RAP will thus include goals that empower Indigenous communities or individuals. For instance, a RAP might aim to increase Indigenous representation in the organization’s leadership – perhaps setting a target for Indigenous people on the Board of Directors or in senior management. This is not just token inclusion; it’s about shifting who gets to make decisions. In the non-profit sector, you might see a commitment like “ensure at least 50% of our program decisions are made with Indigenous partner organizations’ input” – again, moving towards shared or transferred decision-making power. In education, a university’s plan might commit to Indigenous co-governance in certain areas, like having Indigenous scholars or leaders co-chair committees on research involving Indigenous communities. All these shifts are about centering Indigenous perspectives in the places where previously they were marginalized.
Another dimension is honouring Indigenous knowledge and law. Some RAPs explicitly commit organizations to recognize and learn from Indigenous laws and governance systems in their work. In BC, many First Nations have their own laws and protocols that can be highly relevant – for instance, laws about land stewardship or dispute resolution. A reconciliation plan might state that the organization will incorporate local Indigenous laws into how it operates on that territory, or will abide by Indigenous protocols for ceremonies and gatherings. This is a profound form of respect and listening: it says, “We acknowledge that your ways of knowing and leading are as valid and important as our own, and we will follow your lead where appropriate.” It’s one more way that Indigenous leadership becomes real, not just symbolic.
It is also worth mentioning the role of Indigenous youth and elders in these processes. Some organizations ensure their RAPs include perspectives of youth, who carry forward the work, and elders, who carry the wisdom of the past. For example, TELUS, as part of its reconciliation commitment, highlighted engaging Indigenous youth advisors, recognizing the valuable insights young leaders bring. Including a range of Indigenous voices – different ages, genders, and backgrounds – makes a RAP more robust and reflective of the community’s diversity.
The narrative arc of reconciliation always bends towards Indigenous self-determination. All the plans, actions, and commitments are ultimately means to an end: a future where Indigenous Peoples freely determine their own social, cultural, and economic direction, and where relationships with non-Indigenous society are mutually respectful and beneficial. By affirming Indigenous leadership and voice in RAPs, organizations help pave that path. They signal that reconciliation is not something being done to Indigenous Peoples, but something being led by Indigenous Peoples with allies walking alongside.
This requires humility from organizations – a willingness to sometimes follow rather than lead, to admit what they don’t know, and to hand over the microphone. It also requires building genuine long-term partnerships. A RAP that centers Indigenous voices is not a hit-and-run; it’s a long-term commitment to stand with Indigenous communities through the ups and downs of implementing change. Trust may not be granted immediately; it is earned over time by following through on promises and showing respect in every interaction. When an organization says in its RAP that it seeks to build long-term relationships with Indigenous Nations, it must back that up with consistent effort and honouring of those relationships, even when challenges arise.
The reward of this approach is immeasurable: it is the possibility of reconciliation itself. When Indigenous and non-Indigenous people come together as true partners, guided by mutual respect and understanding, we see the potential for healing old wounds and creating something new and strong from that partnership. In British Columbia, there are early glimmers of this – co-management of parks between provincial agencies and First Nations, First Nations leading child welfare reforms with government support, or companies and First Nations forming joint ventures that share profits and decision-making. These are the kinds of outcomes that RAPs, at their best, aim to support and multiply.
Reconciliation Action Plans represent both a practical tool and a powerful symbol. On the practical side, they are helping to reshape policies, cultures, and relationships in tangible ways – whether it’s through new hiring practices at a corporation, new curriculum modules in a school district, or new consultation tables between a city and a Nation. On the symbolic side, a RAP is a declaration that an organization is willing to be held accountable for reconciliation, that it chooses to be part of the solution and not remain part of the problem. In British Columbia, the rise of RAPs signals a maturation of the reconciliation movement: beyond apologies and acknowledgments (important as those are), more and more actors are stepping into the arena of action and accountability.
As we reflect on the narrative of RAPs, certain themes stand out. One is the idea of bridging words and actions. We have heard for years words of remorse for past wrongs, words of commitment to do better. RAPs are where those words meet the real world – where aspirational talk is converted into work plans and budget lines. This bridging is crucial, because without it, reconciliation would remain stuck at the level of rhetoric. Indeed, one of the most powerful aspects of RAPs is how they insist on time-bound, measurable action that can be evaluated. They make it harder for an organization to make broad claims about valuing reconciliation while doing very little of substance; the RAP lays it all out, inviting scrutiny. In this way, RAPs help advance reconciliation from rhetoric to reality. They ensure that the energy from apologies, inquiries, and recommendations is channeled into execution and outcomes.
Another theme is the balance of idealism and realism that RAPs embody. On one hand, RAPs are motivated by an ethical ideal – the vision of justice and harmony between Indigenous and non-Indigenous peoples. They often use language that is aspirational, speaking of healing, partnership, and a better future. On the other hand, RAPs are deeply pragmatic. They break down that big vision into specific tasks: train X number of staff, change Y policy by next June, hire Z Indigenous interns this year, etc. This blend of spirit and practicality is part of what makes a RAP effective. It keeps the lofty goal in sight while methodically working towards it. It’s a reminder that reconciliation, as grand as it sounds, happens through the sum of many small, concrete changes in our institutions and behaviors.
We also see in RAPs a narrative of responsibility and hope. There is responsibility in the honest acknowledgments that many plans start with – acknowledging the traditional territories the organization occupies, acknowledging past mistakes or ongoing inequities that the organization has a duty to address. There is an acceptance of responsibility for making things right to the extent possible. And there is hope threaded through the commitments – hope that through sustained effort, relationships can improve, opportunities can be created, injustices can be remedied. Each action in a RAP is like a seed of hope, planted with care and the knowledge that it will take time to grow. The process of tending those seeds – watering them with continuous effort and nourishing them with collaboration and understanding – is where hope lives. Not every seed will flourish, and there will be setbacks; but each year, with each iteration of the plan, you learn how to cultivate the garden of reconciliation a little better.
As organizations consider developing Reconciliation Action Plans, they are invited to approach the task not as a public relations exercise or a mere compliance requirement, but as a living journey of learning and change. A good RAP asks tough questions of an organization and requires honest introspection. It should provoke reflection among staff and leaders about their own assumptions and biases, about the history that shaped their field, and about the futures they want to be part of. In this sense, the process of creating a RAP can be as important as the document itself. Bringing people together – Indigenous and non-Indigenous, from inside and outside the organization – to talk, listen, and decide on actions is reconciliation in action. These conversations build shared understanding and commitment, which are the foundation for the plan’s success.
In closing, the growing importance of Reconciliation Action Plans in British Columbia is a positive sign of progress, but also a reminder of the work that lies ahead. The fact that so many sectors are engaging with RAPs shows a widespread desire to make change; yet it also underscores how deeply embedded colonial legacies are, that it takes this many concerted efforts to begin to uproot them. RAPs are tools for long-term accountability – a bridge between the words spoken in apology and the outcomes that constitute justice. They build internal awareness, structure commitments, and support relationship-building with Indigenous Nations and communities in a way that is organized and sustained. And if they are treated as living processes, guided by Indigenous voices and renewed over time, RAPs can help ensure that the momentum of reconciliation does not fade, but continues to grow with each passing year.
The journey will not always be easy. But it is a journey filled with meaningful moments: a staff member having an eye-opening realization during a cultural training; a successful joint project with an Indigenous community that builds trust; a policy change that makes an Indigenous client finally feel respected and heard. These are the building blocks of reconciliation, and they often emerge quietly from the diligent work outlined in a Reconciliation Action Plan. Each organization’s RAP is one part of a larger mosaic of reconciliation efforts across the land. Together, they move us closer to a future where Indigenous and non-Indigenous peoples in British Columbia walk forward in partnership, the wrongs of the past acknowledged and addressed, and the rights of Indigenous Peoples upheld and celebrated.
In the end, a Reconciliation Action Plan is a promise – a promise that an organization makes to Indigenous Peoples and to itself. It is a promise to act, to learn, to stay accountable, and to stay humble. Most of all, it is a promise to keep reconciliation alive as a process that guides the organization’s heart and mind. By fulfilling that promise step by step, day by day, organizations contribute to the broader healing journey of this province and country. Through RAPs, reconciliation becomes not just an ideal we talk about, but a reality we gradually, respectfully, and resolutely build together.
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