Good morning. A decade after the Truth and Reconciliation Commission released its calls to action, it’s clear that Indigenous repatriation still faces many gaps in measuring progress. More on that below, along with a stalemate in the Middle East and the World Press photo of the year. But first:

• While the U.S. demands early concessions in USMCA talks, PM Carney says Washington will not dictate the terms
• Former premier Jason Kenney says Alberta’s separatist movement could have risky implications
• Gaza’s destroyed universities pivot to online teaching as they wait to rebuild

Hi. I’m Kate Taylor, the Globe’s art critic. In January, I had the rare privilege of travelling to Haida Gwaii to witness the reburial of a dozen Haida ancestors.

The ceremonies to mark the return of human remains held by museums and university anthropology departments were emotional and moving, although the work involved in repatriation is slow and bureaucratic. In two local cemeteries I watched as Haida youth and elders placed specially crafted bentwood boxes in the ground, honouring their ancestors with dignified burial. For them, it represented years of work; for me it was the high point in a very special assignment.

For several years, I had been following the story of how First Nations in Canada are bringing home both ancestral remains and sacred objects. In 2019, I wrote a story about how museums treat human remains. Increasingly, they won’t display any, and in Canada most believe Indigenous ancestors should be returned to the sites where archeologists once dug up their graves.

In late 2025, I began work to update the story. How much progress had been made? That was difficult to track, partly because museums and universities have become careful about discussing the issue with anyone other than First Nations. The idea is that Indigenous data should remain under Indigenous control, but it makes it tough to estimate how much has been returned since 2015, when the Truth and Reconciliation Commission called on museums to get on with it.

And without Canadian laws compelling institutions to return ancestral remains, First Nations continue the slow work on their own, object by object, ancestor by ancestor.

There are still thousands of ancestral remains awaiting repatriation in Canada, and potentially millions of objects that could be returned, but I didn’t think readers would be satisfied with mere numbers, even if I could get them.

So I phoned Nika Collison, director of the Haida Gwaii Museum. The Haida have a reputation as global leaders in repatriation. Collison explained their approach is never to shame the contemporary institutions that hold ancestors and belongings collected by previous generations. And then she invited me to Haida Gwaii.

“Feel the anger, feel the grief but feel the joy that people want our ancestors to come home,” Collison said. “Times are changing.”

I flew in to Sandspit on a Friday evening, took the short ferry ride to Skidegate and the following morning watched the sun rise over the Hecate Strait with deep gratitude: I had almost missed my connection in Vancouver the day before. On the beach at Skidegate that morning members of the Haida Nation gathered for a traditional food burning ceremony intended to nourish the ancestors. Next the group moved inside the Haida Heritage Centre for a delicate task: transferring remains from museum archival containers into the burial boxes.

That afternoon I drove 100 kilometres north to Old Massett with Globe photographer Fred Lum. There, a second group had gathered for a ceremony in the local Anglican church and a burial in the graveyard. I was particularly struck by the crosses at Old Massett: Each one identifies the institution that returned ancestors, from Chicago’s Field Museum to the Canadian Museum of History in Gatineau, Que.

The next day, it was Skidegate’s turn to bury its ancestors in its graveyard, after a ceremony of prayer and song in the community centre. That evening after many speeches and a lot of food, the Haida Gwaii Museum opened its doors to the community to view dozens of belongings that have also been returned, including masks, hats and boxes.

Midday Monday, I boarded the ferry back to Sandspit. As I drove from the ferry dock to the airport, thick fog rolled in. And the next flight out wasn’t until Wednesday. A free day on Haida Gwaii? It was a golden opportunity to pursue interviews and confirm details.

This image shot by Carol Guzy for the Miami Herald of young girls clinging to their father as he was taken away by immigration agents won the 2026 World Press Photo of the Year.