Looking at the Words of Our People: First Nations Analysis of Literature

I went to Tsleil-Waututh for a coastal jam this weekend. It was really awesome to hear the songs and to see so many youth out on the floor. Ever since I finished my studies I have been challenging myself to become socially connected again. After several years of saying no to fun activities, it's so nice to say yes to things. Speaking of my studies, my dissertation is online. I feel weird about it. A dissertation is not a view of the butterfly. It's a view of the messy process that happens inside of the cocoon. I feel very self-conscious about it. But it exists. I'm going to try to take some sections and make them into articles. Having been a student for long and thus having benefitted from the scholars who went before me, I now feel called to contribute to the scholarly world by creating scholarly writing. I have some articles in my head... it's just a slow process to get them on paper. 

Tsleil-Waututh has the most awesome traffic safety campaign in the world

In other news, I went to a CLEBC conference on Indigenous legal orders a few weeks ago. The keynote was the Honourable Madam Justice Ardith Walpetko We’dalx Walkem. She wrote the Expanding our Vision: Cultural Equality and Indigenous Peoples Human Rights report for the BC Human Rights Tribunal. In 2020 she was the first Indigenous woman to be appointed as a Judge to BC's Supreme Court. Her keynote was awesome. She talked about learning from elders in Lytton and about all of the work going on across Canada in order to bring Indigenous legal orders into the Canadian legal system. She also gave some examples of how traditional stories contain laws and/or influence interpretation of laws.  I thought she was an excellent keynote and I feel so lucky that I had the opportunity to hear her speak. One of the things that she mentioned is that the legal system may have to look outside of the legal profession for expertise, and she referred to Dr. Jeannette Armstrong as an absolute expert. Jeannette Armstrong is a Canada Research Chair and also recently was awarded an Order of Canada.

Speaking of Jeannette Armstrong, she is the editor of today's book - Looking at the Words of Our People: First Nations Analysis of Literature. This book is out of print. One site that I saw had it listed for over $350. I had a family member get it for much less on eBay (I can't use eBay because of a weird glitch or maybe it's user error). It was published in 1993 by Theytus. A lot of the ideas in the book stand the test of time. However, some of the content is also like a snapshot of a particular period of time within Canadian publishing. For example, the late Greg Young-Ing has a chapter in which he examines the marginalization of Indigenous people within publishing, and as a conclusion, he states that this is why we need Indigenous publishing houses (Young-Ing, 1993, p. 187). 

The book is a collection of essays by a variety of Indigenous scholars. It is the product of a forum, which was held in Oklahoma in 1992. Jeannette makes reference to it in her editor's note, and then D.L. Birchfield dedicates an entire chapter to it. The forum included 368 Native writers (Birchfield, 1993, p. 191). It was four days long (p.191) and held in a theatre in the round space (p.193). There is a considerable amount of affection in their description of the event. They note that on one of the evenings, twenty-two poets got together and collaborated on "A Really Big, Group Indian Poem" (p.195). In order to underscore the special-ness of this event, the author writes:

one must realize that man university-educated Indians went through a difficult period of engagement. Many were teaching at colleges far from home, where they were often the only (token) Indian on the faculty. Others were off working in the Western world where their circumstances were often very similar.. It took them some time to discover that there were other Indians, scattered throughout the continent, who were very much like them.  

Estranged from the home folks by distance and by multiple layerings of education, estranged from their colleagues by their Nativeness, the second half of the 20th century has produced few crueler, more lonely paths to privileged agony. Their spirits were dying. Imagine their joy when they discovered they were not alone. As they began discovering one another, mostly by reading one another's published poetry, the emotional explosion of affirmation and celebration created a new literature, now still in its infancy, as literature goes, now as old as the earth, as literature goes, changing, remaining constant, alive. (Birchfield, 1993, p.204). 

The author references a photo taken at the event (but the photo is not included in book), and names people in the photo, such as: Beth Brant, Basil H. Johnston, Joy Harjo, Jeannette Armstrong, Lee Maracle, Simon J. Ortiz, Armand Garnet Ruffo, Gret Young-Ing, and Alootook Ipellie. Even though I can't see the photo, I feel happy imagining all of these people who are like literary elders as young(er) people experiencing the joy of connecting with each other and talking about ideas. While reading this book, that energy is present throughout. 

There were several chapters that focused on analyzing In Search of April Raintree and Maria Campbell's Halfbreed, which were the major texts at that time. I particularly appreciated the editor's note by Jeannette Armstrong. She states: 

I suggest that First Nations cultures, in their various contemporary forms, whether an urban-modern, pan-Indian experience or clearly a tribal specific (traditional or contemporary), whether it is Eastern, Arctic, Plains, Southwest or West Coastal in region, have unique sensibilities which shape the voices coming forward into written English Literature.  

In that sense, I suggest that First Nations Literature will be defined by First Nations Writers, readers, academics, critics and perhaps only by writers and critics from within those varieties of First Nations contemporary practise and past practise of culture and the knowledge of it. (Armstrong, 1993, p.7). 

As a blogger, I find this very affirming. I don't think of myself as a critic. I think of myself as someone who likes to blog about Indigenous literature and share my experience of it. There is a sentiment that I encounter once and awhile where there sort of an implied message that Indigenous literature should not be criticized, or that one should either be silent about Indigenous texts or just promote them. But I come from a tradition where we take stories seriously, and we talk about what they might mean. And so my desire to write about literature is a reflection of that tradition. When I talk about a text, that means that it did something to me. When a text does something to me, I try to unpack it. I think that there is value in reflecting aloud on my experience of a text. So I love that Jeannette affirms that Indigenous academics and critics have a role to play within the world of Indigenous literature. Jeannette goes on to say:

I suggest that in reading First Nations Literature the questioning must first be an acknowledgement and recognition that the voices are culture-specific voices and that there are experts within those cultures who are essential to be drawn from and drawn out in order to incorporate into the reinterpretation through pedagogy, the context of English Literature coming from Native Americans.  

I suggest that the pedagogical insistence of such practise is integral to the process. In doing so, I suggest that First Nations literature, as a facet of cultural practise, contains symbolic significance and relevance that is an integral part of the deconstruction-construction of colonialism and the reconstruction of a new order of culturalism and relationships beyond colonial thought and practice. (Armstrong, 1993, p.8). 

Something that I like about this collection is that it contains models of how to talk about Indigenous literature by people like Kateri Damm, Gerry William, Armand Garnet Ruffo, and Kimberly Blaeser. Janice Acoose has two essays, "Post Halfbreed: Indigenous Writers as Authors of their Own Realities" and "Halfbreed: A Revisiting of Maria Campbell's text from an Indigenous Perspective." After years of referring to Acoose's 1995 book Iskwewak Kah’ Ki Yaw Ni Wahkomakanak, and then the 2016 second edition, it's cool to see earlier iterations of her thinking within these essays. 

I also really liked Marilyn Dumont's essay "Popular Images of Nativeness." She starts off by stating: 

If you are old, you are supposed to write legends, that is, stories that were passed down to you from your elders. If you are young, you are expected to relate stories about foster homes, street life and loss of culture and if you are middle, you are supposed to write about alcoholism and residential school. And somehow throughout this, you are to infuse everything you write with symbols of the native world view, that is: the circle, mother earth, the number four or the trickster figure. In other words, positive images of nativeness. 

But what if you are an urban Indian, have always been, or have now spent the greater part of your life living an urban lifestyle? Do you feign the significance of the circle, the number four, the trickster in your life? Do you just disregard these things? Or do you reconstruct these elements of culture in your life so you can write about them in "the authentic voice," so you can be identified (read 'marketed') as a native Artist? (Dumont, 1993, p.47). 

She goes on to explain the harmful impact of such pigeon-holing, and commits to speak in her own voice, regardless of expectations placed upon her. For, "if I, as a native person, engage in the denial of my own image then I am participating in just another variety of internalized colonialism which blinds me and fosters my disempowerment." (Dumont, 1993, p.49).  When I read her essay, I felt encouraged to stay true to my own authorial instincts, regardless of whether or not they adhered to popular expectations.

Overall, this is one of my favourite collections of Indigenous literary analysis. Perhaps even my very favourite. 

Armstrong, J. (1993). Editor's Note. In J. Armstrong (Ed.), Looking at the Words of Our People: First Nations Analysis of Literature (pp.7-8). Penticton, BC: Theytus Books. 

Birchfield, D.L. (1993). In and Around the Forum.  In J. Armstrong (Ed.), Looking at the Words of Our People: First Nations Analysis of Literature (pp.189-214). Penticton, BC: Theytus Books. 

Dumont, M. (1993). Popular Images of Nativeness.  In J. Armstrong (Ed.), Looking at the Words of Our People: First Nations Analysis of Literature (pp.45-50). Penticton, BC: Theytus Books. 

Young-Ing, G. (1993). Aboriginal Peoples' Estrangement: Marginalization in the Publishing Industry.  In J. Armstrong (Ed.), Looking at the Words of Our People: First Nations Analysis of Literature (pp.177-188). Penticton, BC: Theytus Books. 

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Having taken the time to blog about this book, now I am going to go bead. Check out my recently taped loon set. Not for sale because it was donated as a prize for the coastal jam so it's already gone. 

The Routledge Companion to Native American Literature

I went to Eyes of the Beast at SFU's downtown theatre. What drew me to the show was the fact that my cousin is on the poster. She's the person in the middle rocking her Tsilhqot'in Radio hoodie! It turns out she only had about 30 seconds of speaking time but still glad I went. 

Eyes of the Beast promotional poster

The format was definitely unique. There were things hanging from the roof and images were projected onto the things. The show was a compilation of narratives from people who survived the heat dome in Victoria and Vancouver, the Lytton fire, and the Princeton flood. The narrative would begin with a projected image of the person talking, and then an actor would embody them and take over the delivery of their message. So it was like a movie which then became a play again and again. It was definitely more visceral than if it had just been a documentary. The narrative told from the perspective of the principal at Stein Valley Nlakapamux School was heart wrenching. She talked about evacuating the school. I was particularly moved when she talked about how days after being evacuated they did a circle and brought together the people who evacuated, and how the children were emotional because they hadn't seen each other since the day of the evacuation. 

I think that when a lot of people think about climate disaster, first they think about life and death, and then after that they think of the material impact. The narrative format brought home the emotional impact. One of the narratives was told from the perspective of a man who's home burnt down, but then he wasn't allowed to look at it and there was private security patrolling the area. So he snuck into town at night and crawled into his yard. As he described laying down among his planters that had nothing but ash in them, I wondered "how can we approach climate disaster through a trauma informed lens? Ideally we would prevent disasters, but if a disaster does happen, how can the response to the disaster mitigate (or at least not exacerbate) the PTSD from the disaster?"

The show was structured in a unique way. After the film/theatre section, then there was an audience talk back portion, and then there was a policy maker in the audience who reflected on what he had heard. We didn't stay for that portion because we had also gone to the Museum of Vancouver's opening of their exhibit The Work of Repair: Redress & Repatriation earlier in the evening, so I was kind of tired and wanted to go home. Even though I didn't stay for it, I think the concept of having a policy maker in the room to witness is a good concept. 

Book display at Museum of Vancouver

Anyhow, today's book is The Routledge Companion to Native American Literature, edited by Deborah L. Madsen. It was published in 2016 which is almost ten years ago, believe it or not. It's a collection of essays by many authors. There is an acknowledgement section in which various authors thank various people. In this section the author expresses gratitude to many scholars of Indigenous Studies who supported the project including Philip Deloria, Sam McKegney, and anonymous reviewers. The introduction, written by the editor, grapples with the words "Native," "American," and "Literature." Some introductions include summaries of the sections of the book or introduce each essay in the book. This book is massive (41 essays) and so introducing each piece would have been unwieldy. I did wonder when reading the introduction - were each of these essays written specifically for this book, or were any of them sourced from elsewhere? I read about half of the essays, prioritizing works written by Indigenous people and then after that just reading willy nilly based on whatever title stood out to me. The ones that I read seemed as though they were stand alone pieces (as opposed to being excerpts taken from a variety of larger texts).

The editor begins the introduction with this punchy quote: "When asked by an anthropologist what the Indians called America before the white man came, an Indian said simply, 'Ours.'" (Vine Deloria Jr. in Madsen, 2016, p. 1). In the introduction, the editor states the intention of the book as follows: 

The tribes of Native North America continue to constitute distinct social and cultural communities, each of which has been shaped in particular ways by the impact of European colonization. the interplay between the indigenous cultures that endure and these colonial impacts form a framework of allusions and references that characterize Native American literary texts. These allusions may not be familiar to non-Native readers, or indeed to Native readers whose heritage differs from that represented in a specific literary text. This is what the present Companion seeks to provide: a comprehensive yet manageable introduction to the contexts essential to reading Native American Literature." (Madsen, 2016, p. 2). 

Based on the chapters that I read, I think the book did a good job fulfilling this goal. The essays were written on a variety of topics, such as historical events (Marshall decisions), specific regions (e.g. Pacific including Samoa, the Compact of Free Association Countries, and Guahan), specific demographics (e.g. feminism), specific genres (e.g. short fiction). I thought Tova Cooper's essay on Assimilative Schools and Native American Literature was particularly relevant, reading as someone who works in the field of education. The geographical diversity of authors was interesting, as the collection includes scholars from the US and Canada, a well as Switzerland, Germany, Hungary, the UK, and Taiwan. 

A notably difference about this work in comparison to a lot of texts that I have read recently is that there is not very much situating of self at the beginning of the work. I'm not sure if that's reflective of the time it was written, or of the field of literary studies, or the way that the call to authors was framed. All of the essays were excellent, so this is not a criticism. It is just something that I enjoy and often expect and thus something that I missed when reading this work. 

We had a Pride Party at work, and so, in celebration of Pride I will highlight Alicia Cox's chapter "Recovering a Sovereign Erotic: Two-Spirit Writers 'Reclaim a Name for Ourselves.'"

Alicia Cox is a queer feminist of Cherokee and European heritage and a professor at University of California. Her essay begins by noting the challenge of queer Indigenous people, as their queerness is marginalized within Indigenous studies and their Indigeneity is marginalized within queer studies. She provides a brief overview on the way that settler colonialism has oppressed Native American queer people within their own communities, and harmed third gender traditions. She says Native American studies and queer theory is "a critical intersection." She says "contemporary Two-Spirit people have been at a loss for role models who might show then how to live their identities in culturally relevant ways." (Cox, 2016, p. 88).  And then she highlights for the reader a number texts written by queer Native American authors, including: 

• The 2004 issue of GLQ: A Journal of Lesbian and Gay Studies - Nationality, Sexuality, Indigeneity: Rethinking that State at the Intersection of Native American and Queer Studies 
• Daniel Heath Justice's "Notes toward a Theory of Anomaly" which asserts that the Cherokee Nations position against same sex marriage was a violation of Cherokee traditional philosophy 
• Miranda's  "Extermination of the Joyas: Gendercide in Spanish California" which looks at the special role that third gender Joyas played in society. the colonial violence against Joyas, and attempts to recover the Joyas tradition 
• Miranda's Bad Indians: A Tribal Memoir 
• Chrystos' poem "O Honeysuckle Woman"
• And the rabbit in Craig Womak's Red on Red

Overall, I think this book is a good book to have on your shelf if you read a lot of Indigenous literature. As it is literally a companion, I think if one were using this in a teaching context, it would be best to actually pair the essays with literature itself. For example, Bad Cree would go well with the essay "Indigenous Uncanniness: Windigo Revisited and Popular Culture." The essay could be read on its own, but the experience of reading the essay would be enhanced by pairing it with actual literature. 

A notable feature of the book is its "Further Reading" section which lists about 300 additional suggested readings. 

Cox, A. (2016). Recovering a Sovereign Erotic: Two-Spirit Writers "Reclaim a Name for Ourselves." In D. L. Masden (Ed.), The Routledge Companion to Native American Literature (pp. 84-94). New York, New York: Routledge. 

Madsen, D. L. (2016). Introduction. In D. L. Masden (Ed.), The Routledge Companion to Native American Literature (pp. 1-12). New York, New York: Routledge. 

The Future Imaginary in Indigenous North American Arts and Literatures

 SFU's big convocation is tomorrow. I decided not to go for a few reasons, including the fact that there is a conference that I really want to go to happening at the same time, and also because I have an ergonomic thing going on right now. But I did go to the Indigenous grad. I was really happy my family was able to make it as well. 

The event was very beautiful. For me, the highlight was definitely the Nisga'a dance group. I enjoyed listening to all of the speakers. I did feel emotional, but I did not cry. I actually did cry the day that I submitted to the library in March. I had the day off on a weekday and after I submitted to the library, I went to a matinee of the Lion King and there was no one there. And then I randomly cried... I think it was out of relief. And also, just tiredness from carrying this for so long. I don't know. Anyhow, while waiting to cross the stage, I told myself "I already cried at Lion King, so no need to cry now."

I liked the way that the organizers subverted the logic of colonialism in the way that they set up the event. Rather than sitting at the front after crossing the stage, graduates went and sat with their families. Syeta'xtn (Director of Indigenous Relations and Reconciliation) explained that this was inspired by what happens in his community, where after one is done, they are presented to and returned to their families. Overall, I found SFU to be a supportive institution. There were difficult moments, but doing a PhD is an inherently difficult endeavor. In my experience, there are a lot of people at SFU who wish to be part of changing the institution in order to make it less colonial and more responsive to the needs of Indigenous people, and that means a lot to me. 

I did have a weird moment, though, where I remembered something that happened shortly after I finished my masters. Way back then, about ten years ago at a community event, someone said something really terrible to someone else in front of me. I expressed discouragement to the person who said the hurtful thing. I also followed up with the person who said the hurtful thing afterwards, to do some awareness building. It was a calling in - where an educational rather than adversarial approach was taken, but not all of it was in the moment. But I always had a weird feeling after that I wish I had reacted more quickly and loudly in the moment, or even acknowledged the impact of the words on the person who the words were directed to. It was not the first or last time that I wished I could respond more quickly, but it was definitely one of the most dramatic instances. People always ask - "what's next?" Now that I am certified book smart, I think that my next learning goal is to just become better at reacting in the moment, and becoming better at interrupting and interjecting when something really bothers me. That sounds like a weird goal. But I really want to live a life without regrets, and I think that developing this skill of overcoming my freeze reaction is a key element in that. 

And, of course, my goal is to just keep reading. 

My dissertation was on Indigenous speculative fiction, but I did not approach it through literary theory. In fact, once I did my qualifying exam, I tried to shift my focus to the stories themselves. The way that I structured my methodology was also sort of a turn away from literary theory. So now I am kind of in a weird spot where I am now reading literary theory stuff that I did not read, because my attention was elsewhere. I am catching up, in the visiting sense (catching up with my old friend - the field of literary studies), not in the remedial sense (because I am not behind, I am exactly where I need to be). 

So, in that spirit, I did obtain a copy of The Future Imaginary in Indigenous North American Arts and Literatures by Kristina Baudemann. The future imaginary is a literary term coined by Jason Edward Lewis (Samoan, Hawaiian). "The concept describes visions of the future that are shared by a group of people and used to motivate change in the present. Future imaginaries provide groups with a shared vocabulary for discussing the future and strategies for getting to the future they desire." (Lewis, 2023, p.11). 

I did cite Baudermann in my dissertation - but an article, not this book. I only became aware of the book after I finished. The book is a version of her dissertation. A free sample of the book can be found here.

She captures a range of media in her study, including visual art, film, literature, jewelry, and virtual reality. Something that I found really interesting right off the bat is that when describing the actions of colonial governments, she does mention eugenics (Baudemann, 2022, p.5) alongside things like residential schools. I am in Canada, and it is extremely unusual for people to acknowledge that eugenics against Indigenous people here occurred very recently... and some might even question whether it even ended. It's just not a word that comes up in common conversation. Perhaps due to the public liability of calling it what it is. There was actually just a decision last month in which an Alberta court denied the attempt to do a class action lawsuit on forced sterilization of Indigenous women, and instead said that if people want to pursue this, they have to do so as individuals. Baudemann's dissertation was done in Germany. I actually wonder - if it were carried out in Canada, would this matter of fact statement of eugenics have been readily accepted without having to justify it? 

When I first started reading the book, I found it a little disorienting. I'm used to reading Indigenous scholarship in education. Usually, the first thing people do in that context is state their place-based relationality. It was a little bit weird to begin reading a book length text on Indigenous creative works that did not ground itself in place-based relationality, and for a minute I thought "not sure whether or not I like this." But when I saw the inclusion of eugenics, I thought "there is value in reading things that are written from different perspectives, even if it is initially uncomfortable" and "maybe the fact that she is writing from Germany and not North America enables her to say things that we cannot easily say here." 

I haven't read the whole book yet. I read a few of the first chapters and then the conclusion. And then I started reading the chapter on Stephen Graham Jones. It's slow going because it is very abstract and theoretical. I think I would get more out of it if a googled each creative work and read summaries of the works or viewed the visual items. If I don't read the whole book, I might still use it just for inspiration to look up creative works by Indigenous people.

I definitely would not recommend this book for a general audience. It is not light and easy reading. There are some good nuggets in it. For example, she says "In a colonial context, the future belongs to the colonizer." (p. 21). And then goes on to talk about how creative works by Indigenous people about the future challenge the colonial context, and in doing so, assert Indigenous futures. So even though it is not an easy read, I do like her writing. 

Bauadermann, K. (2022). The Future Imaginary in Indigenous North American Arts and Literatures. Routledge. 

Lewis, J.E. (2023). The Future Imaginary. In T.J. Taylor, I. Lavendar III, G.L. Dillon, & B. Chattopadhyay (Eds.), The Routledge Handbook of CoFuturisms (pp. 11-23). Routledge Press. 

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A little plug before I go. I was at the Museum of Vancouver today. My mom arranged a sneak peek of Nexwenen Nataghelʔilh, which is about the repatriation of Tsilhqot'in artifacts from the Museum of Vancouver. It's a beautiful exhibit which includes baskets, photos, a film, and even a quote by my mom. The larger exhibit that it is housed in is called The Work of Repair: Redress & Repatriation at the Museum of Vancouver. It opens on June 20th, and features stories of repatriation of artifacts from a number of communities, as well as stories about projects that bring Indigenous knowledges into the future, so that future generations are able to create as well. What I saw today was not yet complete, but even in a not yet complete stage, I thought it was beautiful and powerful. Highly recommend if you are looking for an activity to do in order to recognize National Indigenous Peoples Day on June 21. 

Introduction to Indigenous Literary Criticism in Canada

I checked out Komasket. It was fun. But I was really tired because of the sinkhole. My drive was not actually longer due to the sinkhole (I don't think) but the idea that a pothole on a highway could actually be a giant underground hole requires some time and energy to process. Still processing. 

Lately, when driving through Hope I stop by the Silver Creek gas station which has the best Nanaimo bars. Yes, even better than the Nanaimo bars in Nanaimo. But for this trip, as I was taking highway one and was already in downtown Hope anyways, I stopped in at the Blue Moose for coffee and quiche. Delicious, as always. 

My current read is Introduction to Indigenous Literary Criticism in Canada, edited by Heather Macfarlane and Armand Garnet Ruffo, and published in 2016. It includes 26 essays from Indigenous and non-Indigenous scholars which explore Indigenous literary criticism. The book itself contains introductory content, and then each section also contains an introduction by the editors. These little introductions create cohesion within the book. 

It has taken me a relatively long time to read this book. Every time I sit down, I read a section, and then my brain is tired. On average the sections are less than 15 pages long, so at first I was a little perplexed as to why it was taking so long to read. I reflected, and realized that it is because of the inherent diversity of Indigenous approaches to literary criticism. 

If you were to take, for example, an anthology of sociological writing, there would be some core underlying concepts that the book is based on, which originate from a specific time and place, and from a specifical cultural lens on the world. There are core beliefs that undergird the work - such as a belief that we can study society systemically or that there is value in studying society systemically. And often, core disciplinary touchstones that we all recognize as foundational. That is what would make the book sociological. And then each essay would be tied together by some or all of these things. 

But this book is diverse in that it includes people from a broad range of places. In spite of the name, the essays are geographically broader than Canada (N. Scott Momaday) and also broader than people Indigenous to Canada (e.g. Thomas King). Culturally, there are a number of Indigenous groups represented, as well as non-Indigenous people, and everyone brings in their own cultural background in different ways. Plus, the authors are not all educated in a single discipline. And even the ones that are educated in literary criticism have differing ways of confronting colonialism within their discipline. So each chapter requires one to assume a completely new frame. And that's why I can't speed read this book. This is not a complaint. It is a book that can be savored intellectually. This is also implicitly Indigenous epistemology - unconstrained by disciplines, reflective of land-based knowledges, diverse, and dynamic. 

I'm a sucker for familiarity, so of course my favourite reads are chapters by people who's work I am already familiar with (Jeannette Armstrong, Jo-Ann Episkenew, Lee Maracle, Emma LaRocque). In some cases, I have even read the essays itself before, but when I encounter it again it is like seeing an old friend. And there were some voices in here which were new to me, and that is always welcome. 

In the acknowledgements the authors speak to how they canvassed other scholars to ask which essays they use to teach, and that is how they came up with this compilation. 

A notable absence in the book is how to respond to/engage with the TRC Calls to Action, because the book was published shortly after they were released (and so likely in the works before the TRC Calls to Action were released). I don't think that is a shortfall of the book. Any book is a snapshot of a conversation at a specific point in time. There is content in the book about residential schools and reconciliation, though. 

It is a good primer on engaging with Indigenous literature. It is definitely not a how-to guide. Rather, it is food for thought so that one can develop their own approach to Indigenous literary criticism. I did not try to do literary criticism during my PhD because I was using hermeneutics. So I feel like because I am emerging from a period of intensely not doing literary criticism, what I knew before is fragile and I am having to learn everything I knew about it again, but of course, in a different way because I am a different person now than I was when I previously spent time reading literary criticism. It is a little bit challenging but in a good way. 

Native Presence and Sovereignty in College

I have watched some plays recently at Firehall Theatre. I saw Women of the Fur Trade and enjoyed it. I particularly enjoyed Eugina, and in particular, her portrayal of a woman who had freedom of mobility and who participated in the public sphere of the economy. It has a study guide as well. Even if I am not teaching a text, I like to look at study guides just to check out the pedagogy. 

If one wanted to extend their learning, they could read Daniel Voth's essay "Descendants of the Original Lords of Soil": Indignation, Disobedience, and Women Who Jig on Sundays in the book Indigenous Resurgence in an Age of Reconciliation. In the essay, he basically argues that Metis people are Indigenous through women. 

I also watched Inner Elder. I totally confess that I did not know much about the show before going. When she kept saying "alcoholic" again and again and again and again in the first ten minutes, I thought to myself "oh no, what have I gotten myself into?" The second half redeemed itself through comedy... although, as an Indigenous person I always get a little miffed when an Indigenous person on stage (whether it be pro-d or performing arts) does a direct address to the white audience. What am I - chopped liver? That being said, definitely an inspiring tale of how one person overcame a very challenging childhood in order to experience success in their field. I think the core concept within the show was that her challenging childhood was something that she tapped into in order to portray her character on Blackstone which led to her receiving a prestigious award. So, taking hardship and turning it into resilience. Without a doubt, the biggest strength of the show was the audience participation portion. I sat in the front row... and I am just really relieved that I was not part of the show, but, I also found it wildly entertaining that she brought people up to be part of the show. I also have to say that I am so impressed when someone can do a sixty minute show on their own. I can't imagine the sheer energy it must take to be the sole performer for an entire hour. 

All and all, very happy that I was able to see both shows, and gratitude to the iconic Firehall for supporting Indigenous theatre. 

Before going to the Firehall we went to Bao Bei for dinner. I love bao. There used to be a store in my neighborhood that sold delicious and affordable bao. It had brown paper on the window, no seats, and the only furniture was a counter where you could get 3 for $10. Sadly, due to gentrification, it is gone now. Bao Bei is a more upscale experience. Their bao, while delicious, are definitely not 3 for $10. They do have Sichuan fried chicken, which has a special oil on it that makes your mouth go numb. If you want to try something totally new, go try their chicken. Trust me - it's an experience. 

I recently read Native Presence and Sovereignty in College: Sustaining Indigenous Weapons to Defeat Systemic Monsters by Amanda R. Tachine. It's part of the Culturally Sustaining Pedagogy series by Teachers' College Press. I first heard of culturally sustaining pedagogy in the introduction to Indigenous and Decolonizing Studies in Education: Mapping the Long View by Linda Tuhiwai Smith, Eve Tuck, and K. Wayne Yang. I vaguely understand culturally sustaining pedagogies to be a close relative to culturally responsive pedagogy/culturally relevant pedagogy, with a key difference being that teachers of Indigenous students work in a context where sometimes they are teaching within the context of knowledge(s) which exist within their teaching communities and student body, but which are not brought into the curriculum and classroom due to explicit prohibitions around who can hold knowledge. Thus, while the educator delivers formal education, they also engage practices which respect and do not undermine knowledge systems which exist outside of formal education, and which resist being subsumed into formal education. I could be wrong about that. Maybe I should do a separate inquiry into the term to ensure that I am understanding it correctly. I should add the book "Culturally Sustaining Pedagogies" to my reading list. 

Anyhow, I loved the structure of this book. It used the Navajo concept of monsters to frame the challenges that Navajo students encounter in their pursuit of post-secondary education. The author interviewed first year Navajo students about their lives, and it was a student who initially engaged this cultural concept of a monster. The author then expanded on the concept, using monster to describe systemic barriers to Indigenous student success. Monsters include things like financial barriers and classroom practices which undermine Indigenous students' sense of belonging in post-secondary. There were a number of gripping anecdotes within the book. For example, one of the students recalls receiving letters about scholarships, and going to the park to open the letters with their friends who also got letters. The students who did receive scholarships had a bittersweet experience, because they were also comforting their friends who did not receive scholarships (p. 42). I think that the research had the perfect number of participants, because there were enough to provide a range of perspectives, but few enough that I felt like I got to know some of the participants through the author's descriptions of them and through the many interview excerpts included throughout the book. The monsters concept comes from the Navajo twin story, in which there are twins who fight monsters. So, the author talks about how Indigenous students use various weapons in order to succeed in post-secondary. The weapons are not violence. They are "action and processual oriented and involved remembering, repositioning, and resurging against systems of domination." (p. 13). I love this framing of the twin story and its concept of monsters in order to interpret and represent the participants' experiences in post-secondary. I think that it is a strengths based approach. Within this framing, the author spent a lot of time integrating concepts from Indigenous scholarship, such as resurgence and survivance, while also critically examining the legal and historical context of the education of Navajo students in the US. The book is an excellent example of the way that storytelling tradition is not just a recital of stories, rather, the storytelling tradition also involves bringing the stories to life by engaging them in such a way that they help us to make meaning of the world and find our way in contemporary life. 

The methodological choices were also interesting. Inspired in part by Jo-Ann Archibald, she used a story rug as her method (p. 15). In terms of ethics, she did reach out to the Navajo Nation to ask if they wanted to engage with her research, but they told her that "because this research would occur off of the juridical boundaries of the Navajo Nation, Tribal approval was not warranted." (p. 15). I also note that she writes the book to her children (p. xi) and several times directly addresses her children. I really appreciate that, because oftentimes Indigenous people are not the target audience. Often, books are written with a general audience in mind, or even in order to help non-Indigenous people better understand Indigenous people. I know that type of work is important, but it is also weird to be sidelined within an imaginary audience. So I notice and feel joy whenever a book is written in a way that centers Indigenous readers. 

I also like the way that the book ended - with youth offering some final words, hopes for the future, and prayers. Here are some examples: 

Sam: Strength, energy, and clarity of mind to pursue my dreams and continue on strong with my life. That my path will be cleared of any obstructions and my vision is clear, that I will see what I need to do, how I need to do it, just where the road leads. Really, the biggest prayers, what I need to do to become what I need to be. (p. 184). 

Sarah: Pray for us to be more humble and to remember who we are and where we come from... Help us in that way so we can also help others... Help us keep our minds right. Help us remember our main goals, help us be as leaders, and help us be thankful too and just look back, and this is what we've done and we need to pass it along. Bless us financially so it won't be a burden. Bless our academics. Bless our living situations while we are here. But most of all, like I said mentally, physically and emotionally, bless us in that way to be strong, to keep strong. (p. 182). 

I highly recommend this book for anyone who works with Indigenous students in any capacity. The author also did a book talk which is available on the University of Chicago's Center for the Study of Race, Politics and Culture's youtube channel. I listened to the book talk after reading the book. I think I would have actually benefitted from listening to it before reading the book, so that I could "hear" the book in the author's voice while reading it. She is a very engaging speaker, and I also like how she said that before she became a researcher, she was a teacher in K-12. 

Ways of Being in the World: An Introduction to Indigenous Philosophies of Turtle Island

 I recently went to Bill Reid Gallery for their new exhibit, Vital Signs. Here is a description of the exhibit from Bill Reid Gallery: 

We are currently living through a very critical time of recurring natural disasters caused by climate change. Indigenous people and communities are some of the most impacted by these disasters. Our traditional territories are being affected by flooding, fires, drought, and in many areas a decline of the species that we rely on for hunting and fishing. Indigenous people have been at the forefront of environmental activism for generations and continue to actively fight for our traditional lands. 

Vital Signs is a group exhibition that features artists who are discussing the impact of climate change through personal experiences and effects on their traditional territories in a variety of mediums. The title, Vital Signs, refers to the measurements of the body’s most basic functions, but is also a reference to how the land is essential to our being and is a living entity itself. 

The artists featured in this exhibition are Jade Baxter (Nlaka’pamux), Jasper Berehulke (Syilx/Okanagan), Kali Spitzer (Kaska Dena), Kwiis Hamilton (Hupačasath/Leq’a:mel), Rebecca Baker-Grenier (Kwakiuł, Dzawada’enuwx, and Sḵwx̱wú7mesh), and Sage Nowak (Tahltan). 

Co-curated by Aliya Boubard and Amelia Rea

The entire exhibit is great, and worth checking out. And Bill Reid Gallery is a fabulous space. The work that spoke to me the most was Jade Baxter's film Why Would I Leave? The film featured audio of Jade reading a poem with footage of the devastating 2021 Lytton fire. You can read more about the exhibit in this IndigiNews article.

And here is the fancy dinner that I had after work and on my way to the art gallery. 

I recently read a book on Indigenous philosophies - Ways of Being in the World. It is an edited collection, created to support post-secondary faculty teaching about Indigenous philosophy. The editor, Andrea Sullivan-Clarke, is Muskogee and has three degrees in philosophy. The book contains an introductory essay. Then it is grouped into five parts and each part has its own brief introduction. And then each selection within the parts has its own blurb. There are seventeen selections, and the authors range from a Mexican American person writing about Aztecs to an Inuit person writing about contemporary life. Each selection also has a few discussion questions and also a QR code which readers can scan with their phones in order to go to webpages which contain videos as well as links to art and poetry. I like the way that it is a book, yes, but it is also a virtual space, allowing for a more dynamic reader experience. 

The essays feature a number of voices which were already familiar to me, such as Vine Deloria Jr. Winona LaDuke, Kyle Powys White, and Jo-Ann Archibald. And it also includes works by people that I am less familiar with, such as Peter Irniq and and Viola Cordova. One of the essays which I liked the most was by Joseph Len Miller, on living in harmony. I think that it would be great to use it as a discussion piece for Indigenous scholars in order to discuss how to navigate that ongoing tension between trying to fit into the academy (harmony with out world) and trying to transform the academy (harmony with one's own inner world). I found the book extremely accessible. I planned to sit down and read one essay at a time with my morning coffee. But I often found myself reading two or three essays per sitting. 

If I were to use it as a teaching resource, I would probably develop my own questions, because I have certain ways that I like to approach things. But the questions included in the book are good for those reading the book on their own, without an instructor. 

The word "philosophy" is laden with many colonial connotations, due to a history of what Marie Battiste calls cognitive imperialism. It would be easy for philosophy to eat up Indigenous philosophies, incorporating them into mainstream scholarly practices in such a way that they become consumed and lose the qualities that make them Indigenous. It is also the opposite of holistic and relational to assume that anyone can know anything about Indigenous philosophies without actually engaging with Indigenous people individually and collectively on their own terms (AKA not within the walls of a mainstream state institution). Can Indigenous philosophy be truly known without interacting with Indigenous people? Maybe not entirely, but I guess one could be introduced to ideas from Indigenous philosophies through a book, and the book title definitely says it is an introduction. Then comes the question, "how can one engage with Indigenous philosophical works without recreating colonial patterns of harm?" The editor of this book provides guidelines in the introduction for working respectfully with Indigenous philosophies. She uses the Muskogee saying "Cokv Kerretv Heret Os" (learning is good) as inspiration to create a list of tips for teaching Indigenous philosophy. I won't share them all, but here are my favourites:

• Focus on the philosophical thought instead of attempting to explain or practice the culture.
• Indigenous philosophical thought is not to be used as a tool to understand or support Western philosophy.
• While we refer to Indigenous philosophy in the general sense, the thought of each community remains distinct. Do not overgeneralize. 
• Acknowledge your sources and seek permission to use Indigenous materials and stories.

It stops here: Standing up for our lands, our waters, and our people by Rueben George with Michael Simpson

 Rueben George is Chief Dan George's grandson. In this book, which is basically a memoir, he talks about spending time with his grandfather, and how his grandfather nurtured hin when he was a child. 

He mentions the Chief Dan George prayer song (AKA Coast Salish anthem) so I listened to it while writing this post. Beautiful song. 

Overall, I thought this was a great book. Rueben is so present in Vancouver. I think last time that I saw him speak was at Vancouver Indigenous Fashion Week. I always love to listen to him. He is wise and shares great teachings, but he is also funny and makes people feel good even when discussing difficult things. One might even say that being funny and making people feel good is a teaching that he embodies and models. 

Because I work in education, I'm always interested to see what people say about education. In his memoir, he talks about how his mom went to residential school. 

"Even after the children left residential schools, they were still shamed and looked down upon by wider society. My grandma tried moving my mom out of residential school and into Burrard Inlet Elementary in Deep Cove. The parents at that school held a community meeting because they were outraged at the idea of a First Nations kid going to school with their children. The parents and communities members all said that there was no way this could happen, and they demanded that the Native kids stay in the residential schools where all these horrible things were happening. My grandma went down to that meeting and heard the other parents say terrible things about how her kids were dirty and ugly. She stook up and said, "My kids are clean and healthy." Only one other parent stood up to defend our family. She said that she knew our family and that my mom and her siblings were clean, good kids, Eventually my mom did get out of residential school and went to high school, but there she was picked on almost daily. The Government of Canada was treating us as if we were lesser than people of European descent, and some of the people of Canada treated us that way too." (George & Simpson, 2024, p. 22). 

In a subsequent section, Rueben talks about his own experience and how his family had difficulty registering him in elementary school. "My mom took me to register at Plymouth Elementary School in North Vancouver, but the principal there said that he didn't want me at his school because there were no other Native kids there. He told my mom to send me to Sherwood Park Elementary because that's where the Natives went. The principal said that straight out and my mom was shocked." (George & Simpson, 2024, p. 29). 

Land acknowledgements are common place in Vancouver. I think that it's important to spend time learning about the perspectives of the people who are Indigenous to the place on which you are doing an acknowledgement. And so I'm glad that Rueben took the time to write this book and share his perspective with the world in an easy to access way. 

Indigenous thought / anarchy venn diagram

In a previous post, I mentioned that I am reading chaotically right now. This means that I am just reading whatever on whatever subject, for no reason. After five years of carefully reading everything through the lens of "does this help my dissertation? If so, how?" - it is incredibly liberating to read and react without having to connect everything to a larger project. I actually feel like I could theoretically go back and read everything I have read over the last five years and see it with fresh eyes, because I am no longer reading with an end in mind. 

Generally speaking, I do try to ready broadly. I try not to limit myself to reading books written by people that I know I will agree with. I do this so that I can broaden my horizons and avoid the dreaded "living in an echo chamber." So, I was keen to read this book on anarchy even though I am most defenitely not an anarchist. 

Once I started reading it, though, I remembered why I don't read a lot of anarchist books. I am not a Marxist, but I do find Marx useful and I am a fan of looking at things through a historical materialism lens, systemic change, and critical theory. I would also place myself in the political left, and I consider myself to be progressive. the book openly frowned on these things in a few places (see pages 14-17 as an example). In spite of the fact that the book took issue with some core elements of my identity, I found it an interesting read. The format was really accessible, with FAQs at the end of each chapter, addressing questions such as: "Do I have to be polyamorous?" The answer is no because a good anarchist would not prescribe anything. Or, "Is it better to have a job I don't care about or a job I do care about?" The answer is that having a job that you don't care about makes it easier to to not identify with your work, but if you must have a good job, just don't identify with your work. 

There are a lot of things I disagree with in this book, like the discussion around looting and stealing. Or the claim that there is no such thing as ethical work. But while I read, I tried to look for things that I did agree with, in order to try to understand the author's perspective and anarchy. I think that one of the things that I did appreciate about the book was the idea that we don't have to just passively accept all social structures in society. There is a lot of room to negotiate, and to try to find ways that celebrate our ability to exercise freedom and choice, and to try to imagine and re-imagine how we might interact with each other. Freedon already exists in many areas of our life, we just have to act upon it by making and re-making our social world every day. 

Meme - horse and lawnchair

Something that I did find disorienting while reading was the claims that anarchy is compatible with Indigenous though and decolonial theory. I found that the way that the author included Indigenous thought was similar to the way that clastic rocks bring in various rocks, they are included but they are not actually incorporated. A bringing together of differences substances, but not actually true integration or transformation. The author references Leanne Betasamosake Simpson a few times, but I found it difficult to see where the connections lie. 

Perhaps, if I were in conversation with the author, they would tell me that my disorientation is because I am reading Simpson, wrong. Perhaps they would tell me that I am so deeply immersed in so many institutions that my ability to see the anarchist threads in Indigenous works may be clouded. And maybe that is a little true, as we all read texts through our own interests any experiences. Nonetheless, in an attempt to orient myself, I made a little Venn diagram with pen and paper in order to try to keep track of my own thoughts. And then I tried to reproduce it in Canva, in order to further my ongoing goal to become more proficient at knowledge mobilitation. But I am not yet a Canva expert, so I had to make two venns - the compare venn and the contrast venn. 

If someone wanted to criticize my venns, it would be easy. First, the stuff in the Indigneous column was done from memory based on books by Indigenous people published in North America, as well as my lived experience as an Indigneous person. One might say that I am making broad generalizations, and that is true, this is a quick and dirty diagram. Another criticism is that Indigenous people are not a monolith, and so it's impossible to capture Indigenous thought in a venn diagram. That's true. This chart glosses over diversity within Indigenous thought, and merely captures themes that come up often and/or stand out to me in books that I have read. So, this chart is by no means an authoritative chart. It's just a form of self-expression in response to a book that I read, and it was fun to make this chart. 

As you can see, while there are a number of similarities, the ares of mutual incompatibility are extremely significant. One of the biggest differences for me is identity. It is very meaningful to me to belong to the Tsilhqot'in Nation. I enjoy learning about our history and learning about/ participating in the ways that we are continuing to exist as a collective now and into the future. I think Branson's claim that identity is just a marker of oppression is extremely incompatible with my experience of Tsilhqot'in identity. Some might even say it is a deficiency take on my Indigneous identity. So, I am not convinced by Branson's book that Indigneous thought can be easily incorporated into anarchy. 

I am definitely not going to become an anarchist after reading the book. I remain deeply committed to family, supporting Indigenous traditions, participation in political life, progressive politics, and also participation in various institutions/organizations that I believe in. I did not find many of the proposed activities in the book very appealing. However, after I read the book, I was discussing this with a family member, and they said that anarchy is not easily theorized because people who are actually doing anarchy are not theorizing it, they are just doing it, and that's what anarchy is. That comment shifted my perspective a little, and maybe having read the book, I will begin to notice little acts of anarchy in the world around me, and gain a better understanding of it by noticing what it looks like in practice. 

In other news, Reservation Dogs is on CBC Gem and I am watching it now. It is so good. One of my favourite scenes so far is when a Dallas Goldtooth's character tries to convince Gary Farmer's character that Crazy Horse had a man moon. Sooooo funny. 

Reservation Dogs is definitely my new favourite beading show. 

Indigenous Resurgence in an age of Reconciliation

I recently visited the Musée national des beaux-arts du Québec. One of this pieces was this work by Michael Patten. The caption hanging beside it says "The bloody-looking end of this baseball bat highlights its potential for being used for violent acts. By covering the bat with seed beads, Patten affirms a strong identity associated with a traditional Indigenous practice: beading. Although he covers the object as if to camouflage it, at the same time he reveals part of Canada's history: the blood stain is not some unshaped blob but a map of the country." I think Quebec City is a good place for this work to hang because the city definitely celebrates violence through its use of cannons as decorative objects. I noticed that a lot of the plaques and other public educational displays talk about early settlement and the use of military might within the context of competing colonial powers. However, I think its always important to keep in mind that even though these technologies of violence were not places there specifically for use against Indigenous people (according to the various displays), surely their mere existence surely impacted relationships with Indigenous people at the time. 

I recently read this book, Indigenous Resurgence in an Era of Reconciliation. 

Overall, I found it a great read. There were a few chapters in particular where I paused and thought to myself "I love the way that this chapter has been intentionally structured." A lot of analytical thinkers here. It is an edited collection of essays. The book was the product of a symposium at University of Victoria in 2017, which I am presuming that some or all of the authors attended. There are some books where they are outward looking, as in, they are speaking directly to a non-Indigenous audience or in a way to educate people who may be unfamiliar with Indigenous issues. What I loved about this book is that it felt like Indigenous people talking to other Indigenous people with the assumption that everyone in the conversation is well versed in the basics, and thus capable of engaging in the nuances of various ongoing debates. In my mind, the book stands out as special and unique in that respect. 

I particularly enjoyed Dian Million's essay,  "Spirit as matter: Resurgence as rising and (re)creation." Effect of urbanization, industrialization, and criminalization of Indigenous lifeways on Indigenous people, with a focus on the Pacific Northwest, and, more specifically, the damage done to the Columbia River. Here are some notes on that chapter:

• "The Colombia River's loss cannot be measured. Their loss was a spiritual blow to the lives of Native peoples in the Pacific Northwest and to all of us who contemplated the silencing of these places." (Million, 2023, p. 46). 
• "I claim that anywhere we are is already an Indigenous place first. An Indigenous ethos rises when we take responsibility for where we are, in the power and depth of our relations and responsibility to the Indigenous people of the places we are - to know and honour their ancient relations in that place. We have a responsibility to know the languages of these places and recognize them in the land, in their names for food and kinship. We need to honour and uphold these relations first, and to know that our Indigenous spirit reconnects any lands we are on, even - and especially when - these lands appear to be encased in concrete." (Million, 2023, p. 49). 
• "I met Jeannette Armstrong when we were much younger, in Portland, and I was still in what I felt was a life lived in strife, but I became impressed by her spirit and movement. As a Sylix person, Jeannette believes strongly in our ability to connect to spirit, the life forces that are always part of us, and part of all our places. She states, 'Indigeneity is a viable tool toward transformation of the people-to-be into being part of the social order as tmixw and to be a life-force place rather than being part of the social order of depletion and destruction.'" (Million, 2023, p. 51). 

I also enjoyed Gina Starblanket's chapter on treaties and resurgence. I like the idea of beginning with aspirations and thinking about what we might dream about if we could proceed on our own terms. "An oppositional treaty politic may distract from the need to build an alternative treaty politic instead, as oppositional approaches can run the risk of limiting movement and self-transformation and can contain our ability to engage in alternative theorizations that might break free from, instead of just being differently configured by, colonial relations. When we Indigenous peoples constitute ourselves through oppositional politics rather than what we aspire to be, we inadvertently allow our own political projects to be shaped by external sources rather than our own philosophical traditions." (Starblanket, 2023, p. 90). 

I also liked Darcy Lindberg's chapter, Nehiyaw hunting pedagogies and revitalizing Indigenous laws. The chapter beings by introducing nehiyaw hunting practices as illustrative of law, points out comparative deficiencies in Albertan law (including Canadian law), and then goes on to discuss how traditional Indigenous laws can inform court and law schools. As a teacher, the third item was of most interest to me because I'm always interested in conversations around pedagogical strategies. Lindberg notes "the use of origin or creation stories by many Indigenous societies to set out constitutional or legal principles." (2023, p. 116) and then begins a discussion on their interpretation. "The ability to access legal resources from Indigenous social practices remains a challenge in the academic study of Indigenous law. Hadley Friedland identifies three general categories of legal resources according to their accessibility and availability: '(1) resources that require deep knowledge and full cultural immersion; (2) resources that require some community connection; and (3) resources that are publicly available.' Resources that require deep knowledge and full cultural immersion include laws embedded withing a 'language, dreams, dances, art, beadwork, pots, petroglyphs, scrolls, songs, natural landscapes, ceremonies, feasts, formal customs and protocols.' Resources that require some community connection include laws embedded in 'stories, communally owned oral traditions, information from knowledgeable community and family members, as well as personal knowledge and memories.' Resources that are publicly available include 'published resources' such as 'academic work by outsiders... published court cases, [and] trial transcripts.' Thus, 'the most ideal resources' - those intertwined with ceremony, songs, and language - 'are likely the least available at this time, while the least ideal resources,' such as stories and published resources, 'are the most available.'" (Lindberg, 2023, 116-117). 

The article that she is summarizing in this section is freely available online. It looks like a very interesting resource on both a pedagogical and epistemological level.

She goes on to talk about pedagogy in the law school at University of Victoria. "The initial trend within law schools is to rely upon a few methodologies (all three that overlap each other) to teach Indigenous legal principles. An initial avenue has been the modified case brief method that has been developed and utilized by the Indigenous Laws Research Unit at the University of Victoria. This methodology relies on the synthesis of case analyses of stories to identify and restate legal principles within Indigenous social orders. Understanding that multiple analyses are needed, researchers immerse themselves within the stories of the community. This strategy aims to have researchers discover trends within the normative practice of the community, leading them to a thicker frame of legal analysis. this methodology is favored because it requires mostly publicly accessed knowledges (published stories) and is tailor-made for the pedagogical environment of the law school. The largest drawback from the adapted case-brief method is that it decontextualizes legal principles from the lifeworlds they relate to and requires a light relationality with Indigenous communities without a natural onus for researchers to engage with a community or seek feedback on their conclusions. It requires institutions to apply internal accountability mechanisms that require community feedback on the results of their synthesis." (Lindberg, 2023, p. 117).

There was also a chapter by Corey Snelgrove and Matthew Wildcat on education governance/development, "Political action in the time of reconciliation." Out of all of the chapters, I think that this one did the best job of discussing reconciliation, and honouring resurgence while also doing away with what Asch, Borrows, and Tully refer to as "resurgence contra reconciliation." The authors begin by stating: "our interest is in two opposing perspectives on reconciliation - considered as ideal types- expressed by those who seek to further Indigenous self-determination. On the one hand is a perspective that involves an embrace of reconciliation, where the idea of reconciliation is a vehicle for positive change in the Indigenous-non-Indigenous and/or Indigenous-state relationship. While the degree of embrace fluctuates within this perspective, one predominant form takes the argument of contrasting definitions or conceptions of reconciliation. On the other hand is a constellation of critiques that normatively reject reconciliation as a political movement and language. The reductionist version of this critique is captured by the sentiment 'Reconciliation equals assimilation.' Here reconciliation is a political sleight of hand where the Canadian state uses a benevolent front to recognize Indigenous rights, title, and political authorities while quietly carrying out its intended goal of extinguishing Indigenous peoples as legal and political entities through incorporation under provincial and federal legislation. In the following, we offer a different approach that sees reconciliation as a unique moment of colonial reconfiguration." (Snelgrove & Wildcat, 2023, p.157-158). 

Rather than framing reconciliation as something which the state is trying to do to Indigenous people, they state that "reconciliation has not emerged through Canadian self-reflexivity, introspection, socio-historical learning, or progressive enlightenment but by generations of Indigenous peoples' sustained legal, political, and economic action that has forced a reckoning within Canadian society and responses by the state - motivated in part by Canada's self-image as a land of justice." (Snelgrove & Wildcat, 2023, p. 158). 

With respect to resurgence, they use an example of the Maskwacis Education Schools Commission as an example of resurgence. "Coulthard calls for a turning away from seeking state recognition to find an emancipatory praxis grounded in one's own traditions, upholding one's own self-worth as the source of liberation... Here I would like to argue that the history of building education systems in Maskwacis was the result of an internal focus on building the schools rather than an externally focused politics of looking towards the state as a source of change. In other words it is possible to turn away in Indigenous institutional contexts." (Snelgrove & Wildcat, 2023, p. 166). 

I thought it was interesting that they cited (167, 169, 170) Marshall Gantz's book Why David Sometimes Wins: Leadership, Organization, and Strategy in the California Farm Worker Movement . It's been in my audiobook library for awhile now and I'm almost finished. Certainly an inspiring book about unions. Listening to the audiobook also inspired me to see if Marshall Gantz has podcasts, and yes, he does. I listened to the episode in which his guest was a leader of a large digital racial justice organization, Arisha Hatch. Highly recommend. 

Goeman, M. (2023). Beyond the grammar of settler apologies.  In H.K. Stark, A. Craft & H.K. Aikau (Eds.),  Indigenous Resurgence in an age of reconciliation (pp.23-41). Toronto, Ontario: University of Toronto Press. 

Hunt, S.K. & Simpson, L.B. (2023). Thinking through resurgence together: A conversation between Sarah Hunt/Tlalilila and Leanne Betasamosake Simpson.   In H.K. Stark, A. Craft & H.K. Aikau (Eds.),  Indigenous Resurgence in an age of reconciliation (pp.129-141). Toronto, Ontario: University of Toronto Press. 

Lindberg, D. (2023). Nehiyaw hunting pedagogies and revitalizing Indigenous laws.  In H.K. Stark, A. Craft & H.K. Aikau (Eds.),  Indigenous Resurgence in an age of reconciliation (pp.112-126). Toronto, Ontario: University of Toronto Press. 

Million, D. (2023). Spirit as matter: Resurgence as rising and (re)creation.  In H.K. Stark, A. Craft & H.K. Aikau (Eds.),  Indigenous Resurgence in an age of reconciliation (pp.43-52). Toronto, Ontario: University of Toronto Press. 

Snelgrove, C. & Wildcat, M. (2023). Political action in the time of reconciliation. In H.K. Stark, A. Craft & H.K. Aikau (Eds.),  Indigenous Resurgence in an age of reconciliation (pp.157-175). Toronto, Ontario: University of Toronto Press. 

Stark, H. K. (2023). Generating a critical resurgence together. In H.K. Stark, A. Craft & H.K. Aikau (Eds.),  Indigenous Resurgence in an age of reconciliation (pp.3-20). Toronto, Ontario: University of Toronto Press.