Samantha Jack

“I do my best to carry our stories and truths into spaces that were not built for us, while continuing to imagine futures where Indigenous youth are not only included, but centered.”

Samantha has forged a powerful path in advocacy for Indigenous youth, amplifying their voices on both the national and international stages. Through leadership roles in the National Association of Friendship Centres (NAFC) and the Global Indigenous Youth Caucus (GIYC), her work provides vital representation in major decision-making spaces. Her contributions assist in identifying and deconstructing institutional barriers while advancing Indigenous perspectives and experiences. Channeling the strength of community and the legacy of those who came before her, Samantha is providing the next generation of Indigenous youth with the necessary tools to feel seen, celebrated, and empowered in their identities and histories. This is her story.

K: Please introduce yourself!

S: My name is Samantha Jack. I am an Indigenous youth leader, educator, and policy advocate from Nuu-Chah-Nulth and Yale First Nations.

K: Can you tell us about your work with the National Association of Friendship Centres and the Global Indigenous Youth Caucus?

S: With the National Association of Friendship Centres, I serve as the elected National Youth Executive. In this role, I work to represent and uplift urban and away-from-home Indigenous youth across the country. I support national advocacy rooted in our lived experiences and push for more meaningful youth inclusion across decision-making spaces.

As the North American Focal Point for the Global Indigenous Youth Caucus at the United Nations, I take part in international advocacy focused on Indigenous rights, diplomacy, and policy. I do my best to carry our stories and truths into spaces that were not built for us, while continuing to imagine futures where Indigenous youth are not only included, but centered.

K: What impact do you hope to make in these roles?

S: I want to help shift the conditions that make it hard for Indigenous youth to not only survive, but thrive. My hope is to open doors and hold space for Indigenous governance, joy, language, and identity to flourish. I do this work for the next seven generations and for the young people in my own life. I want them to grow up with more choices and more healing than I had, and to know they are already enough.

K: How did education become a tool for reclaiming your identity and power?

S: Everything changed when I took an Indigenous Studies class at Kwantlen Polytechnic University with Professor Melinda Bige. It was the first time I heard the full truth about Canada and the first time I saw myself reflected in a classroom. That course gave me back parts of my identity I did not know were missing. It shaped the path I am on now and reconnected me to the kind of leader I always hoped I could become.

“I carry the strength of the women who raised me and the women I walk beside today.”

K: Who are the women who’ve shaped you — the ones who walk with you in your work and life?

S: I carry the strength of the women who raised me and the women I walk beside today. My adopted mother, my grandmothers, and my aunties have all shaped the way I move through the world. I also draw strength from the young Indigenous women I work with in community and advocacy. They are bold, brilliant, funny, and deeply grounded in love. These women remind me that we are never doing this work alone.

K: What does decolonization mean to you, not just in policy, but in everyday life?

S: Decolonization is about returning. It means remembering who we are beyond colonial definitions and realigning with our original ways of being. I see it in governance and policy, but I also see it in how we care for each other, how we rest, and how we gather. It is about building something rooted in love, responsibility, and collective truth.

“Even if you do not know all the teachings or speak the language, you are still Indigenous.”

K: If you could give one piece of advice to your younger self, what would it be?

S: You are not alone, even when it feels like it. The system is designed to make you feel disconnected, to make you question your place, your identity, and your worth. But none of that belongs to you. You are already enough. Even if you do not know all the teachings or speak the language, you are still Indigenous. You belong. Your path will not look like everyone else’s, and that is okay. One day, you will understand why you are called to do this work. It will come from a deep place of love, and it will carry you forward.

K: What is your hope for the next generation of Indigenous women and girls?

S: I hope they grow up knowing joy as their birthright. I want them to be raised in communities that celebrate every part of who they are and remind them daily that they are sacred. I hope they see themselves reflected in leadership, in ceremony, in stories, and in systems that were shaped with their brilliance in mind. I want them to feel free to take up space, speak their truth, and dream without limits. I hope they inherit a world overflowing with possibility, where they can live, love, and lead without fear.

“I honour all the ways that womanhood lives and breathes in our people.”

K: And finally — what does being a woman mean to you?

S: Being a woman, to me, is about responsibility to community. It means showing up with care, with love, and with a commitment to something greater than yourself. It is not defined by one path or one way of being. I think of the aunties, the matriarchs, the caregivers, the land defenders, the storytellers. I think of our Two-Spirit, trans, and gender-diverse relatives who carry culture and community in powerful ways. Womanhood is not something fixed. It is a collective strength shaped by spirit, by relationship, and by the work we do to lift one another up. I honour all the ways that womanhood lives and breathes in our people.

Follow Samantha on IG: @samanthajgatley