When Sandra Pronteau sits down to bead, she creates a space that is entirely her own. She sets up in a quiet room with her dog, turning on the sounds of drumming and pow-wow singing in the background. Then, she puts on a pair of LED magnifying glasses and picks up her needle.

“Beading is like having a relationship,” Sandra said, holding up a brilliant, intricate piece she was working on for a friend. “It isn't just doing the labor work. It’s about identifying the beads, the colors, the tools….”

For Sandra, a Cree-Métis woman currently living in Burnaby, British Columbia, those tiny glass beads are a lifeline to a culture she was nearly forced to forget, a therapeutic release, and a tool for systemic advocacy.

Reclaiming Identity Across the Generations

Originally from Manitoba, Sandra was born with Congenital Birth Defects. As she has grown older, conditions like Fibromyalgia and Osteoporosis aside Osteoarthritis have forced her body to adapt, requiring her to step away from past physical joys like bike riding.

But navigating environmental illness and a changing body is only one layer of Sandra's story. She is also a post-era residential school survivor. “One of the reasons why I am a part of this is the intergenerational impact of us on the verge of losing our culture,” 

Sandra did not grow up immersed in her heritage; she noted she did not even know what a dream catcher was until the 1990s. Her curiosity was sparked later in life when she discovered her late mother’s hidden history. Her mother had grown up poor, and left behind a tiny box containing beautifully beaded vamps—the decorative flaps sewn onto the tops of moccasins.

“It was then that I learned about her beading experience, and to me, that was really important to feel connected,” Sandra said. “It got me connected to feeling like a piece of my culture. It's kind of like being connected with your ancestors.”

In 2009, Sandra decided to teach herself the craft using books and YouTube tutorials. By 2010, her unique work earned her a spot as a select Indigenous vendor at a downtown venue during the Vancouver Winter Olympics.

The Spiritual Discipline of Beadwork

In Cree and Métis traditions, beadwork is approached with respect and intentionality. For Sandra, the process has become an important component of her healing and personal discipline.

Since the craft requires intense, undivided focus, it serves as a quiet space for deep reflection and prayerful processing. When asked if she reflects on specific memories or grief while her hands are moving, Sandra paused, visibly moved.

“I would think about all the elders that have gone,” she said softly. “Elders I met, the words, the wisdom that they passed on. I think about my mom. It can be very emotional sometimes... but it has a purpose in my life.”

Art as a Form of Protest and Restitution

Today, Sandra uses her medicine as a literal form of justice and restitution. Following the devastating revelations of unmarked graves at the Kamloops Indian Residential School, Sandra felt a fierce desire to act. She began crafting custom orange shirt pins, pledging a $10 donation from every single pin sold to support residential school survivors and their families. She hopes to do the same with her hand-beaded red dress pins to honor Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women.

“It's about giving back,” she emphasized. “They need the support, and I feel compelled to give and have the desire to contribute as part of my healing..”

This sense of communal care extends directly into her fierce, lifelong advocacy within the disability movement. A mother of four adult children and a grandmother of one, Sandra works locally, nationally, and internationally to champion accessibility and demand that churches and community spaces become genuinely inclusive to all bodies.

She is clear that a person’s physical or cognitive boundaries should never dictate how their worth or intelligence is perceived.

Taking Off the Blinders

Whether she is speaking at a conference, fighting the cultural appropriation of non-Indigenous people profiting off stolen designs, or teaching beading workshops to fellow members of the disability community, Sandra’s mission remains the same: she wants people to look past the surface and acknowledge structural bias.

“You’re not defined by what people see,” she said. “Look at the skills people have, look at how they adapt into the world they made accessible to feel complete.”

As the conversation wound down, Sandra smiled, looking forward to upcoming workshops and her next creative endeavors. Her parting wish was a gentle but firm challenge to a Church and a society that still struggles to truly listen to Indigenous and disabled voices.

“I think it's really important that people continue to have an open mind and hearts and listen and absorb,” Sandra said. It is an opportunity for my wish for the people to be more open to learning and to engage in respectful  ways.”