UNB hockey camp opens ice to Indigenous girls, breaking barriers one skate at a time

Dahlia Mitchell stepped onto the ice at the Aitken University Centre for the first time in her life, uncertain and careful. Within minutes, with a few pointers from Lillian George about foot spacing and balance, something clicked. "It was pretty cool," the ten-year-old said afterward. "When I figured it out, it was really easy." Her mother, Elizabeth Mitchell, watched from the boards unable to stop smiling—she had always wanted to play hockey herself but never had the chance. Now her daughter was living out that dream.

Dahlia is one of more than a dozen Indigenous girls learning hockey this fall through a five-week camp run entirely by members of the University of New Brunswick women's team. The program is free. Equipment is provided. Ice time is scheduled. Everything is designed to remove the obstacles that have historically kept Indigenous girls out of the sport. The camp is led by George, a sixth-year student and assistant captain of the Reds, who have won the Atlantic University Sport championship for two consecutive seasons.

George grew up in Nipissing First Nation in Ontario, where she was part of the first group of girls to play hockey in her community. She remembers not seeing many other Indigenous girls on the ice. That absence shaped her commitment to the work she does now. She plans ice times, recruits from nearby communities, and spends hours offering the kind of encouragement that transforms hesitation into confidence. "I think sometimes they're like, 'Oh, I can't do this,'" George said. "But just giving them that, 'You can do this, just you've got to try your best'—it doesn't matter what level you are now. You can get better every ice time.'"

The camp was created three years ago by former Reds player Jana Headrick, who wanted to reach out to surrounding communities and give Indigenous girls a genuine shot at the sport. When Headrick graduated two years ago, George took over, supported by her teammates and coaches. What began as an idea has become something tangible: a place where girls like eight-year-old Indy Saulis can play with other girls instead of holding back against boys. "When I'm with boys, I just let them have the puck," Indy said. "But with girls, I just go for it."

The funding comes from the Canadian Tire Jumpstart program and the Brendon Oreto Foundation, both dedicated to removing financial barriers to youth sports. But money alone doesn't explain why this camp matters. What matters is that George herself is a visible, undeniable presence—she led the AUS in scoring last season and currently leads the conference with seven points through four games. For girls in the camp, she isn't an abstract role model. She's someone they see on the ice, someone who looks like them, someone who made it.

Kyle MacDonald, UNB's interim head coach, described George in terms that go beyond statistics. "She's a fantastic player, but she's a special person," he said. "She's had a huge impact on our team. She's had a huge impact on the community. She's just so genuine. In everything she does, she's all-in." That genuineness translates to the girls in the camp. Shawn Saulis, Indy's father, put it plainly: "For her to have female role models out there and specifically an Indigenous female role model, that's perfect."

The camp doesn't end after five weeks. Organizers have partnered with the Central Female Hockey Association to create a pathway for girls who want to keep playing. Some participants have already returned year after year, their tentative first steps on the ice transformed into confident strides. George's favorite part is watching that progression—seeing a girl who could barely balance on skates become someone who believes she belongs in the sport. For communities where Indigenous girls have historically been absent from hockey rinks, that shift in belief might be the most important thing of all.