Christina Gray
Christina Gray is a Ts’msyen citizen from Lax Kw’alaams in northern British Columbia, Canada and Dene from Treaty 8 territory in the Northwest Territories. She works remotely as an Associate lawyer in Prince Rupert and is part of JFK Law Corporation’s Victoria and Vancouver offices. Christina is passionate about advancing and advocating for Indigenous peoples’ rights, social justice issues, intersectional equality and equity issues, and Indigenous governance and legal traditions. She was first called to the bar in Ontario in 2015 and in British Columbia in 2016. Christina is also completing her Masters of Law at the University of Victoria Faculty of Law, and her graduate research focuses on issues of gender representation within the Ts’msyen legal tradition.
Previously, Christina worked in International Indigenous Law at the Centre for International Governance and Innovation in Waterloo, Ontario, where she attended both the Expert Mechanism on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples and the United Nations Permanent Forum on Indigenous Issues. Christina is a Yellowhead Institute Research Fellow, which is a First Nations-led think tank rooted in community networks and committed to Indigenous self-determination. She also is on the Board of Directors with Coast Funds, an organization that supports First Nations in achieving their goals for sustainable economic development and conservation management in the Great Bear Rainforest and Haida Gwaii. Follow her on Twitter @stina_gray and see her publications and media interviews here.
Christina was profiled by Danya Chaikel, a Canadian lawyer who specialises in international criminal law, currently consulting with the Women’s Initiatives for Gender Justice and for various international justice institutions. She is an active ATLAS member, and an #ATLASToo admin. Read more about Danya’s work at the end of this profile and follow her on Twitter: @DanyaChaikel
*****
What drew you towards working in domestic human rights and Aboriginal law?
My interest in Aboriginal law and human rights began early on. Throughout my childhood, my mom was studying at college and was busy researching and writing about Indigenous rights, namely Bill C-31 which was legislation designed to give to women who had previously not been entitled to it, ‘Indian status’. She was interviewing women and talking with them about their experiences fighting to gain Indian status. So, from a young age I became interested in the idea of human rights of Indigenous women. I didn't know much about law, but what I did learn about as a child was the over-incarceration of Indigenous peoples in the criminal justice system, and about how Indigenous peoples were fighting for their constitutional rights.
I also completed a life-changing internship in Guatemala before law school, supporting the youth contingent of a widows’ association who were affected from the armed conflict. Working with those youth and women whose family members went missing or were murdered, left a huge impression on me. I was thinking about going to law school, but I decided to apply a year after witnessing a tragic injustice in Guatemala. I realised that by becoming a lawyer I could have a greater impact advocating for Indigenous peoples and their experience within the Canadian legal system.
What have been some highpoints of your career so far?
My new job at JFK Law is a high point because I feel very privileged to work in Aboriginal law. I’ve dreamt for a long time of working in this area of law, so I’m proud to finally make this dream a reality. The subject matter is something that I’ve cultivated an interest in since I was very young. I have always tried to learn more about Indigenous people’s constitutional rights, including treaties made between Indigenous nations and governments, Indigenous title, and rights—like hunting and fishing, for example. This is essentially Aboriginal law, but it differs from Indigenous legal traditions whose law and governance comes from Indigenous nations and peoples themselves. For example, as a Ts’msyen person, I live and research my Ts’msyen legal tradition.
My call ceremony in 2015 was another big moment for me. When I found out that I had passed the Bar exam, my family had just returned from my Reserve (in Canada, an ‘Indian Reserve’ is a tract of land set aside under the Indian Act for the exclusive use of an ‘Indian band’), which is about a 45-minute boat ride from Prince Rupert. We had just held a feast, which is a ceremony and an essential part of the Ts’msyen legal tradition in my community, when I found out I passed. I emailed the Law Society to ask if I could wear my traditional cedar woven hat and button blanket, which shows my clan of killerwhale (Gisbutwada) clan on the back, to the call ceremony. I was told that I couldn’t wear my button blanket because it would break with ‘Canadian legal tradition’ – of wearing the black barristers' robes.
The longer I waited for an answer, the more I felt intimidated. A few weeks before the ceremony, I spoke with the Law Society of Ontario’s Equity and Diversity representative and they wanted to see what my regalia would look like. I wasn’t sure what they would say, but I’m thankful that my supervisor at the time supported me through the process. I knew instinctively that this was an ideal opportunity for the Law Society to recognise reconciliation in this way. I felt this was especially true since I had attended the Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada’s closing ceremony in Canada’s capital city of Ottawa the week that I received the initial rejection. Ultimately the Law Society agreed and I wore my button banket to the call ceremony. This was a significant moment for me and many others – it showed me to advocate for something that I strongly believe in. [see First Nations law student gets OK to wear regalia to call to bar in Ontario]
What are some of the challenges that you have faced in your career?
Law school was a very challenging time in my life. While I was studying, my dad was in the hospital in Vancouver. He died a few years ago after a long battle with addictions and related illnesses. He experienced a lot of trauma early on, which stayed with him throughout his life. As he went to a residential school in the Northwest Territories (residential schools were a tool of assimilation and genocide of Indigenous peoples that the Canadian government administered with churches by forcibly removing children from their families, forbidding them to acknowledge their Aboriginal heritage, culture or to speak their own languages. Children were severely punished if strict rules were broken, and survivors have spoken of horrendous abuse at the hands of residential school staff: including physical, sexual, emotional, and psychological abuse). I was greatly impacted by the grief of my dad’s death and I have needed to take time to process his life and death, and to focus on my wellbeing.
When I was younger, I would try to keep that part of my life private, but when I was in law school, I heard an Indigenous lawyer speak about a similar experience he had to my own. When I heard him having the courage to talk about his experience, it provided me with the strength to also talk about my life, though I still find this to be challenging. Systemic violence and structural oppression places this burden on people, but I’ve come to realise that this is not mine to hold.
I’ve also experienced racism in my career. When I worked in Saskatchewan, another province in Canada, there was a sense of pervasive racism and I didn't feel safe living there. One incident stands out. I was working at a university and I was stopped by a security guard on the campus and they were aggressive, treated me like a suspect, and wanted to take a photo of my ID. And if I didn’t comply, they threatened to take me to their office. I felt vulnerable in the situation. This left a big impression on me, and despite working with very supportive colleagues, I chose to leave the province. My personal experiences like this one increased by commitment to human rights and advocacy, as I felt my own human rights were violated.
How have you coped with these challenges?
It is a big challenge to stay balanced in the legal profession, especially in bigger law firms or cities. There may also be pressure to work extra hours. When I encountered challenges at work, or worse like the time I experienced racism in the prairies, I always returned to the west coast of British Columbia.
When I needed to contemplate something and feel grounded, I would come to Prince Rupert or Vancouver to visit my family and the ocean. For me, having a close connection to the land, family and friends is really an important aspect of being able to practise law. Law is a challenging field, there's a lot of pressure to work very hard to succeed and always do the best that you can. This can easily become unhealthy so it’s necessary to stay connected to people who love and support us.
Do you have any advice for people hoping to work in international law/ domestic human rights law in the future?
For people contemplating going to law school, going to university in Canada is really expensive so paying for your tuition might be challenging. This is especially relevant for those of us working in human rights, since social justice oriented legal jobs pay less than say corporate law firm positions. So, find out early about scholarships and how to study for the Law School Admission Test (LSAT).
I would also say reach out to people who inspire you. Try reaching out to those you don’t know, so you can learn about their experience in attending law school and practising law. It was important for me early in my career to build these types of relationships with lawyers practising in Aboriginal law. I went to my networks and asked them if they knew anyone who worked in Aboriginal law. I asked them to send an introductory email on my behalf which really helped. Throughout the years I've continued to network, and now I also make myself available to meet with students and new lawyers because I think it’s so vital to support each other. As an Aboriginal female lawyer, it is important to me to share my time, experience and expertise when possible with others.
Also, if you’ve just graduated or passed the bar and you can't find your dream job, I think it’s important to be open to making changes, maybe drastic changes, in your life (if that’s possible for you). Sometimes I had to find jobs because I needed to work, and this was part of my path. It's now been 10 years since I started law school. I’ve faced many different career choices and lived in several places. It was really important for me to not only live in Vancouver where I was born and raised, but also to experience other places and people to gain a broader perspective.
Where do you find the courage to speak out publicly?
I think it’s crucial to see representation of Indigenous women – everywhere! I have a lot of anxiety about putting these ideas out in the world, but then I do so for the simple reason that I am able to speak thoughtfully and articulately on issues that matter to me. I feel I have a social responsibility to do so, and I’m honoured that I can really.
*****
Christina was profiled by Danya Chaikel, a Canadian lawyer who specialises in international criminal law, currently consulting for the Women’s Initiatives for Gender Justice to raise awareness around misconduct including sexual harassment at international justice institutions such as the International Criminal Court, an #ATLASToo admin, and an officer on the IBA’s War Crimes Committee. Danya has 15 years of domestic and international experience, having practised family, criminal and human rights law as well as worked at international tribunals and courts, NGOs, professional associations, and the UN. She is an advocate for international justice, human rights, and women’s empowerment – with expertise in legal research, analysis, investigations, drafting, diplomacy, public relations, social media, and event organising. Follow her on Twitter: @DanyaChaikel