Seeing a need and jumping in to address it has been the hallmark of Jacqueline Koughan’s efforts to break down barriers impacting Indigenous and 2SLGBTQIA+ communities. 

A 2023 Distinguished Alumni Award recipient, Koughan shares her story of working in remote Indigenous communities, establishing the Rainbow Clinic and supporting 2SLGBTQIA+ military members through listening and learning.

You seem like a very “make it happen” kind of person.  After a terrible night working trauma, the doctor I was on shift with thanked me. I told him, “Bitches get s**t done.” He had it printed on a pencil case for me. I still have it.

When did you decide you wanted to be a nurse? When I was three or four, my daycare in Tofield brought in a cow’s heart. It grossed out the other kids, but I was sticking my fingers right in there. 

You found your way back to Tofield after your Bachelor of Science in Nursing degree from MacEwan. What impact did nursing in a small community have on you? In rural nursing, you really need to know your stuff. The hospital in Tofield offered a lot of training, so I took courses in everything. After a few years, when the long commute got to be too much, I took a job in Sherwood Park. 

That was when you first began working with Indigenous communities? For five years, I spent 16 weeks working in remote First Nations community health clinics and the rest of the year at the Sherwood Park Hospital. I thought I was woke – I've always firmly believed that being Indigenous is not a pre-existing medical condition – but I was incredibly naive about entering a community that had seen a string of new nurses come in and try to colonize their health care.

There was a terrible car wreck north of that community. How did that impact you? A community member was really badly off and had so many broken bones. I had helped move him onto a spine board, and people thought that was how his bones were broken. I was devastated. I was trying to help. How could people respond that way? Then an Elder came and told me to deal with it. They were absolutely right. My white fragility was showing. 

How did you respond? I threw myself into completing my Indigenous cultural competency training. I met with Elders to see how we could be more culturally appropriate at the clinic. We started advocating to get rid of appointment times. I asked to be more involved in the community. I left the gate open in the compound where I lived. I went to women’s sewing nights. I talked to people, and I learned from people. 

What brought you back to Edmonton? It was time to set down roots and be Auntie Jackie to my brothers’ children, so I applied to be a registered nurse at the new MacEwan University Health Centre. 

You helped establish the MacEwan University Health Centre’s Rainbow Clinic. What prepared you to do that? I had no lived or learned experience providing gender-diverse care, so I went to the World Trans Conference. I started working with community organizations. I soaked up as much information as I could, and I learned that from the time trans people come out to the time they get care has the highest risk – 75 per cent of people have harming thoughts and more than 50 per cent will attempt suicide. There was no specific path to follow, but we knew we needed to get care to people faster. And we did. It blows my mind when I think back on it. 

You speak about safe, inclusive health care. What does that mean to you? No matter what's in your pants or your personal history, you deserve to receive care. The goal is not to need a Rainbow Clinic. Or a women’s health clinic. Care should automatically be safe for everyone. 

Advocacy comes up a lot in June. What does that word mean to you? I am a six-foot-tall cisgender white woman, and that gives me a hell of a lot of privilege that many people don’t have. So I use it for them. People listen when I speak, so I say something when conversations get difficult. Challenging the norm can be uncomfortable and terrifying. It’s also amazing.

In your job with the Canadian Armed Forces, you challenge the norm a lot. So much has happened in the last three years. We have an Indigenous Advisory Group and had a flag raising on National Indigenous Peoples Day. We had the first Pride Parade on base last June. It wasn’t easy. We received many ugly emails and shed more than a few tears. But now we have a Pride crosswalk. We’re building all-gender washrooms. And we’ve made the first dress regulation change in decades. People can have blue hair or painted nails and wear any part of the uniform they want. We’re going to have a mess dinner in July, and my friend, who is a cisgender man, is going to wear the skirt. That’s Pride. 

What keeps you going? I don’t do what I do because I’m part of this community or that community. I do it because I see a need. I love people. I love being of service. And I love doing things that could change someone’s life for the better.