In Simpcw First Nation, Secwe̓pemc women are revitalizing hide tanning

Working with animal pelts is a lengthy, labour-intensive process — but teachers in the ‘B.C.’ community are ensuring the tradition is passed on

Angie Rainer is a language and cultural teacher in Simpcw First Nation. She supports the animal hide workshops hosted by Tiffany Bowser, often attending them with her father Fred Fortier. Photo submitted by Tiffany Bowser

This article has been co-published with The Narwhalas part of their 2026 Indigenous journalism fellowship.


Working with animal hides can be a messy process — and children in Tiffany Bowser’s community of Simpcw First Nation “absolutely love it.”

“They love scraping the hide. They love stretching it,” she shares.

“I don’t know why, but brain water is one of their favourite things,” she adds, laughing.

“I’m like okay, just don’t get it in your mouth.”

Bowser hosts hide-tanning workshops in her First Nation, come-and-go style, so people with different needs can attend.

Her workshops are also hosted during the school day, so children and Youth from the Secwe̓pemc community — located north of Tkʼemlúps (Kamloops) — are able to participate.

deer hide in the process of being tanned. Depending on the size of the animal, and who is tanning, the process can take weeks or months to complete. Photo submitted by Tiffany Bowser

From hunting the animal, to skinning and tanning the hide, it is a lengthy, expensive and labour-intensive process that many people struggle to make time for. And finding people who carry the knowledge about how to properly tan an animal hide is becoming rare.

Despite those challenges, the tradition lives on in the Simpcw First Nation. In Secwe̓pemc culture, women are typically tasked with preparing animal hides — a responsibility that Bowser takes seriously.

Roberta Haller, who also teaches hide tanning in the community, agrees.

“There’s not too many people on the reserve who know how to tan a hide,” Haller says. “I feel very proud that I’m one of them.”

Tiffany Bowser and her mother Tina Donald hunt big game in Secwe̓pemc territory. Bowser uses the hides to host community workshops, revitalizing the skill of tanning animal hide and hunting on the land the way her ancestors always have. Photo submitted by Tiffany Bowser

Bowser says she has been hunting since she was just three years old.

“Some of my earliest memories are sitting on my dad’s shoulders, packing a handful of gophers around and fishing,” she says.

“It’s just something I grew up doing.”

This year, she hosted a 10-day workshop, calling her mentor Haller over the phone for advice each day.

Haller was mentored by the late Virginia Donald, her aunt, who was known in the area for her tanned deer hides. 

“I’m probably pretty biased, but she was one of the best hide tanners out there. Her deer hides came out white and perfect,” Bowser says. 

Following the tradition of women who came before and taught them, Bowser and Haller support one another, teaching the next generation of hide tanners in their community how it’s done.

Tiffany Bowser and Angie Rainer hold and stretch an animal hide as part of the tanning process. The practice is labour intensive and takes many helping hands. Photo submitted by Tiffany Bowser

Hide tanning process and usage

While methods to prepare animal hides vary from person to person and community to community, Bowser and Haller follow the methods passed down to them from generations of Secwe̓pemc women. 

After harvesting and skinning the animal, Haller explains, the hide gets soaked in water.

After it’s soaked, the hair is cut and scraped off the hide before it’s carefully placed on a frame. 

This part can be tricky: experienced tanners know where to cut holes to properly stretch the hide on the frame, without ruining it by piercing in the wrong places. 

Once on the frame, the hide is pounded and stretched, over a gentle heat source.

“Not too hot, so it doesn’t try out too fast,” she says. 

After that, the hide is taken off of the rack and smoked, which adds colour, prevents stiffness and makes the fabric not water-resistant, but washable.

The next step is the brain water. 

“We take the brains from the deer and then we dissolve it in warm water so it becomes a milky liquid, in there we soak the hide again,” Haller says.

“As we’re soaking, we’re stretching it out again … then you put it back on the frame, pound it out again and start the whole process over again.”

A tipi made out of an animal hide that Tiffany Bowser worked on during a community workshop. The finished hide can be used to make clothing, regalia and more. Photo submitted by Tiffany Bowser

All of this takes days, weeks or months, depending on the animal size, and what outcome the tanner is going for.

But if the steps aren’t completed properly, the whole process must be started over.

Smaller game animals can take weeks to complete, while larger animals like moose can take up to a year. 

It takes time, commitment, muscles and know-how to make it all happen.

Passing the tradition through generations

Haller started working with animal hide in her 30s, wanting to pass the tradition onto her children.

And since tanning was so intensive, she wanted to help her mentor Virginia continue the practice as she aged, while learning the practice from her. 

“Auntie Virginia didn’t like to take any shortcuts,” Haller says.

That meant skipping modern tools including pressure washers and trimmers to remove animal hair during the tanning process, which weren’t available back in her day.

“She just liked to do it the way she was taught, she didn’t try any other way. She knew one way would work, and that’s how she taught me, and that’s what we still do.”

Since learning from her auntie, Haller has mentored Bowser and anyone else who wants to learn at the community workshops in Simpcw First Nation.

Though they focus on involving Youth, anyone from the general community is also welcome to attend, as long as they are respectful of the animal hide.

One of those community participants is Fred Fortier, a Simpcw member who has attended many hide-tanning workshops hosted by Bowser and Haller. 

Fortier grew up connected to the land. After recovering from cancer five years ago, animal hide workshops have become a more accessible way for him to practice culture, although he still goes hunting sometimes. 

Community members work together to stretch and tan an animal hide. A traditional practice Secwe̓pemc women are leading. Photo submitted by Tiffany Bowser

Visiting, speaking Secwepemctsín, sharing meals, telling hunting stories and laughing together at the workshops are “just a lot of fun,” Fortier says. 

Watching his grandchildren participate in the workshops is exciting.

“I think that’s a really important component, our kids wanting to learn and not feeling ashamed to learn our cultural ways … for them to keep their head up and be proud,” he says.

He encourages hunters in the nation to keep the hide, bones and brains in mind when harvesting deer to be in alignment with Secwe̓pemc culture. 

“We have a lot of women in our community who have stepped forward to teach people our cultural ways,” he says. 

“For those people like Tiffany and Roberta, and all of the women who have stepped forward … I think they are the backbone of our community.”

Author


Santana Dreaver

Santana Dreaver is a Saulteaux and Plains Cree journalist based in Coast Salish territory. She has worked in daily news, social and for The Early Edition radio show with CBC Vancouver, as part of the Indigenous Pathways to Journalism Program, before finding her way to The Narwhal’s Indigenous Journalism Fellowship. She is from Mistawasis Nehiyawak and has called B.C. home for the past 5 years. Her spirit name is Red Thunderbird, known to live in the West Coast mountains and create thunderstorms throughout the prairies.

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