Saturday, December 21, 2024

Indigenous Literature Books

 So, this is the last book pile that I am blogging. I read a handful of books about Indigenous literature. I was not trying to veer into literary studies. I get kind of lost inside of literary studies because postmodernism is like its own little universe. There is no beginning and no end, just infinite concepts. Anyhow, in spite of trying not to veer into literary studies, I did want to revisit some old favourites and so I re-read them. And there were two new books that came out which I could not resist. 

The first book that I re-read was Iskwewak Kah' Ki Yaw Ni Wahkomamkanak: Neither Indian Princess nor Easy Squaws, second edition, by the late Dr. Janice Acoose-Miswonigeesikokwe. It was her masters thesis. The first edition was published in 1995 and the second edition was published in 2016. It stands the test of time. The first time that I read it, I don't think I realized how significant it was. I used a few quotes from it. More than anything, though, I feel like the book reinvigorated my commitment to the idea that Indigenous literature is important, not only in terms of pedagogy, but also in terms of shaping the political landscape of our society. And so I celebrate Acoose. 

The second book that I re-read was Taking Back Our Spirits: Indigenous Literature, Public Policy, and Healing by the late Jo-Ann Episkenew (2009). This one is also a rallying cry to recognize the significance and transformative potential of Indigenous literature. Specifically, she says that Indigenous literature plays a socio-pedagogical function (p.110) which is critical in addressing colonial creation myths (p.109). When I read her work, I feel invigorated. I also like that her work builds on Acoose. For example, they both discuss Maria Campbell's Halfbreed. And then Episkenew goes on to discuss newer texts like Richard Wagamese's Keeper N Me. 

One of the new books that I read and enjoyed was Self-Determining Stories: The Indigenous Reinvention of Young Adult Literature by Mandy Suhr-Sytsma. It's cool that there is so much Indigenous Young Adult literature that one can write an entire book about it. The book is published by Michigan State and I think the author's work and education is in the states, but she discusses many books by Indigenous people from Canada, including Jeanette Armstrong and Drew Hayden Taylor. 

Another new book that I read and enjoyed was Tiffany Lethbo King, Jenell Navarro, and Andrea Smith's anthology Otherwise Worlds: Against Settler Colonialism and Anti-Blackness. Just so people know... I read the book before the New York Times article was published, and I want to take a minute here to say that I do not support identity fraud. In the future, I will be more discriminating about purchasing Andrea Smith's work. That being said, she was not the only person who worked on this project, and I would never want to punish the co-editors or contributors for her wrongs. With that caveat in mind, I did find the introduction to be extremely helpful in understanding how Black and Indigenous people can support each other's efforts to achieve justice, even if it may appear that they do not have identical goals in mind. Within the book, the chapter which made the biggest impression on me was Lindsay Nixon's Visual Cultures of Indigenous Futurism. Lindsay Nixon also wrote a memoir (and you can find their book here). Visual Cultures of Indigenous Futurism is an essay which outlines some foundational concepts around the future imaginary and discusses artwork within that genre. 

Making Space for Indigenous Feminism, 3rd Edition

In the first few weeks after I submitted my dissertation, I went through a weird phase where I could not think about it. I had a secret fear that it was embarrassingly bad to the degree that it was basically gibberish. So I literally could not look at it. I did some rehearsals, but I did them from memory. Eventually I did look at it, and aside from one random half sentence that appears to be a copy and paste error, it thankfully is not non-sensical. Anyhow, now I am in a new weird phase where I can't work on it (because it's been submitted) but I have all of this weird energy. But I can't start something new, because I haven't defended yet. So I'll just keep blogging stuff that I read. 

Making Space for Indigenous Feminism, 3rd Edition is a beautiful book. I have the second edition, and if people are wondering, this edition is all new content. 

The introduction is written by Joyce Green, who edited the previous editions, and Gina Starblanket, who edited this edition. They reflected on the symposium that led to the first edition, and how an elder who attended the conference helped them overcome the misconception that feminism was not traditional, and so if they were feminist, then they were not really Indigenous. They also reflected on the symposium in Victoria which was held in order to workshop papers which would eventually become this book. I like it when books are the product of an event. It adds a layer of cohesion to the work. The introduction is an excellent overview of what makes Indigenous feminism distinct. I don't think I read every chapter, but out of the chapters that I did read, a few chapters stood out to me. 

Following the introduction, the first chapter is by Joyce Green. She uses her intergenerational autobiography to illustrate the complexities of Indigenous identity. It is very generous of her to share so much of herself. There is a lot of discussion of theory and politics in the book, and having it anchored in Joyce's life experiences helps one understand what is at stake. 

Gina Starblanket's chapter on Red Ticket Women. Red Ticket Women were a legal category of Indigenous women who married out and lost their Indian status under the Indian Act, but remained treaty. These women did a lot of advocacy in and out of their community in order to try to regain recognition. Part of their advocacy included trying to convince their own communities that when women and their children lost status, it didn't just impact individuals, it hurt the community as a whole. 

Kelly Aguirre wrote a chapter on Indigenous Feminist and Queer Two-Spirit Storywork. The title of the work is really cheeky (Decolonization is also metaphorical), and the article is in part a response to Tuck and Yang's article Decolonization is not a metaphor. The biggest insight that I gained from reading Aguirre's article is that some resurgence narratives could be interpretated as ableist and anti-intellectual. I read the chapter, and it made me think, and I am still thinking about it, because this is not something that I had noticed before. 

There's also a chapter in which Gina Starblanket, Leanne Simpson, and Robyn Manyard converse. I recommend reading that chapter if you're on the fence about whether or not to read Rehearsals for Living, because if you like this chapter, you'll like Rehearsals for Living. 

Overall, I highly recommend this book. 

Indigenous Education Scholarship

 When I started my doctoral program, I tried to catch up on reading Indigenous education books that had been recently published. In this post, I am going to talk about some of the books that I read on the topic of Indigenous education. These are not summaries or readings notes or reviews. These are just a few comments on each book. I'm writing this post because I want to keep my memory of these books alive and I also want to return to the books again in the future. As I go through books that I read in the early stages of my degree, I am becoming aware of the narrow frame that I had while reading them. Rather than just sort of absorbing what they presented in an open ended and organic manner, I really just went through them trying to see whether or not they could help me with my dissertation topic. Surely reading them broadened my horizons. But I also read them during a period of time when I put pressure on myself to read a lot in a short window of time, so I probably did not really retain a lot of what I read. I look forward to rereading some of these books in the future at a leisurely pace and with no end in mind. 

So, one of the first books that I read was Indian Education for All: Decolonizing Indigenous Education in Public Schools by John P. Hopkins. It is published by the Teachers College Press, and it focuses on legislation in Montana which mandated that every Montanan learn about Native Americans, and that educators work with Montana tribes to pursue this goal. The legislation is called Indian Education for All, and if you would like to know more about it, the state has a website which contains information for teachers in order to support the initiative, including offering weekly pro-d by zoom. Montana's Indigenous population is about 9%, which overall is higher than BC's. But BC's Indigenous student population is over 11%. BC also recently implemented mandatory Indigenous content across the board through curriculum reform, so it was interesting to see something similar happening elsewhere, and specifically, to see how the government was investing resources in order to support teachers in implementing the initiative. Conceptually, another interesting thing about the book was the concept of reconciliation. In Canada, reconciliation first surfaced in land claims court decisions. And then the TRC was created as a result of a class action lawsuit launched by residential school survivors. So there is a very specific legal history attached to the word. It's interesting to see the word used in a context without that very specific history. The book also introduces new concepts, like desettling. It's kind of a dense read, but it's a great primer on concepts like culturally sustaining/revitalizing pedagogy, tribal critical race theory, and survivance. 

The next book is Pathways for Remembering and Recognizing Indigenous Thought in Education: Philosophies of the Iethi'nihstenha Ohwentsia'kekha (Land) by Sandra D. Styres. The book is structured in five parts, in accordance with the author's own cultural framework. Vision - (Re)centering outlines some foundations knowledge including the seven grandfather teachings, wampum, terminology, rationale for the project, and decolonization. Relationships - (Re)membering talks about seven generation thinking and also the politics around who is and is not Indigenous. Knowledge - (Re)cognizing remembers ancient knowledges, and then goes into some theory around privilege and power, panopticism, and the tension between dominant western approaches and Indigenous approaches. Action - (Re)generating provides some thoughts around how education might look different if it were based on land centered approaches. And finally, Iethi'nihstenha Ohwentsia'kekha - (Re)actualizing talks about concepts such as "word warriors", doctrine of discovery, and critical intimacy. I found the anecdote in critical intimacy to be particularly poignant. The book ends with a call to go beyond responsive pedagogies and beyond place-based pedagogies. The book pulls together a lot of thinkers in Indigenous education. But it also uses non-Indigenous thinkers such as Foucault, Descartes, and Freire. It's not an easy book to read, as it is very philosophical (as one would hope it would be, based on the title) and covers a lot of ground. It is well written and well organized. I recommend eating this book in small bites. 

The next book is Indigenous Education: New Directions in Theory and Practice, edited by Huia Tomlins-Jahnke, Sandra Styres, Spencer Lilley, and Dawn Zinga. I found that it was an interesting read, and overall I think it approached Indigenous identity from a place of strength. It featured chapters by some authors who were already well known to me and led me to some authors who I had not heard of before. I'm unapologetically BC focused, but it's good for me to look and see what's happening in other places now and then. I did not read every single chapter, though. The chapter that I liked the most was Dawn Zinga's chapter on ethical space. As an educator, I like it when people talk about their practice, that is, about what actually happens in their classrooms with their students and what they actually do in order to bring the theories that they advocate for to life. Also, many of us have ideal conceptualizations of things like decolonization or indigenization, but many of us grapple with the chasm between the ideal in our heads and hearts and the reality of the daily grind. So I loved her teaching anecdotes. I've also heard the phrase "ethical space" in passing, but I never took the time to find out what it means. She did a good job explaining it. I also liked Dwayne Donald's chapter on Homo Economicus. 

The next book is Indigenous and Decolonizing Studies in Education: Mapping the Long View by Linda Tuhiwai Smith, Eve Tuck, and K. Wayne Yang. This is a collection which contains a wide range of works, both in terms of topics covered and approach to the topics. I read most of the chapters and I think it's a great collection. There was a chapter on Indigenous content requirements, and as someone who has spent time advocating for minimum content requirements, I was surprised to read about how unenthusiastic academics were about the concept. No qualms about everyone having to take a minimum number of English credits, though? Based on the chapter's conclusion, I think they landed in a place where their criticism is largely around unsupported implementation, and their final statement is that minimum content requirements are "probably as good a first step as any." (p.173). Oof. Maybe they should give their upper admin a copy of the book on how Montana implemented minimum content requirements. The sections of this book that I have the most notes on are the series editors' introduction by Eve Tuck and K. Wayne Yang. Indigenous education is a topic that transcends boundaries, as it lives both within Indigenous/Decolonizing studies (which is usually in the faculty of arts) and the faculty of education (which is a discipline focused on practice/application, and often times the students in this faculty are oriented towards a professional life outside of the university). The introduction is laid out such a way that these two separate areas of the university are oriented to each other. The introduction is also a good read. The introduction features comments from the editors, and my favourite section is where Eve Tuck reflects on why so many Indigenous people are drawn to education even though education is an undeniably colonial space (p.8). I also really loved the afterward by Erin Marie Konsmo and Karyn Recollet. They talk about how ableism and purity narratives manifest themselves in shaming people who live in the city. They advocate for an ethic of caring for all (p.244) and talk about how we can love land even after it has been damaged. Erin has a particularly beautiful section where she says "What does it mean to shame those who pick medicines in cities or at bus stops? In a conversation with a friend about my experiences being shamed for picking medicines at a bus stop, she responded, 'What does that mean for our people who live in the cities? are they not medicine?" (p.239). ðŸ§¡

 The next book is Troubling Truth and Reconciliation in Canadian Education: Critical Perspectives, edited by Sandra D. Styres and Arlo Kempf. By the time that I read this, I was already moving in a really specific direction, so I only skimmed sections of it. But one sentence in it made a lasting impression on me. Jeannie Kerr and Amy Parent open their chapter by stating "we trouble the notion that postsecondary institutions are currently able to address the 2015 Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada's (TRC) calls to action for reconciliation in education, and offer what we see as pedagogical opportunities for instructors in higher education to gesture towards decolonial possibilities." (p.281). Later, they state "we have attempted to trouble the context of higher education in Canada as a colonial structure that takes up the words of reconciliation in the lineage of the TRC while simultaneously maintaining colonial logic and violences." (p.291). They talk about obstructions to reconciliation in post-secondary, and they open up the conversation but don't definitively close it. In response to this, I have a few thoughts. First, even if PSEs are currently unable to address the TRC Calls to Action, they ought to act as though they intend to address the Calls to Action, and ought to at least make as much progress as they can towards the Calls to Action. Second, standing outside of the university, and speaking from the standpoint of an Indigenous citizen, I conceptualize the university as an institute of the state, especially as universities function within and are accountable to a number of pieces of legislation including the Universities Act and property laws. While universities can make some strategic gains here and there, and while individual educators can help shape the minds of citizens, at the end of the day universities can only move as fast and as far as their legislative framework will allow them. So there is a bigger conversation at play in terms of governance and accountability. The opening of this chapter was very jarring (in a good way) and it really made me think, what conditions would have to be in place in order for universities to be able to fully implement the Calls to Action?

I have one more pile of books that I might blog about (Indigenous literature). And a bunch of random books I also want to talk about. But I might not do them right away or ever. I will only do them if I feel inspired to do so, because this blog is my place of joy, and so I have committed myself to the idea that I will only blog when I think to myself "it would be so fun to blog right now." So, no promises that I will blog those anytime soon... but I probably will blog them sooner or later. ✌️


Friday, December 20, 2024

Indigenous Methodologies: Characteristics, Conversations, and Contexts, Second Edition

I often feel out of my depth talking about Indigenous methodologies. I'm not in the academy, so I don't have the same depth of knowledge as people who have spent a lot of time working inside of the university.  And my vocation is not scholarship. So sometimes when I talk to university based scholars about Indigenous methodology, I get the impression sometimes that I have somehow said something incorrectly but I don't know why. And then I start to doubt myself, and I think maybe I am relying too heavily on my experiences outside of the university, and maybe those experiences don't translate into the university. As a general concept, I feel like I get the broad strokes of Indigenous methodology. Yet, I feel like I am constantly not saying the right thing when I am talking about Indigenous methodology inside of academia, and I am often corrected by others. Many times I have thought to myself, maybe I should leave this discourse to the experts. But at the same time as an Indigenous student pursuing an advanced degree, I do feel a personal responsibility to familiarize myself with Indigenous methodologies. Also, when I finished my masters, I felt like I had only begun learning about Indigenous methodologies, so I was curious about them and wanted to know more. And so, even though I didn't use an Indigenous methodology for my doctoral work, I did take time to read about it. I read both the first and second editions of this book. Well... I actually re-read the first edition because I had read it before. And then I read the second edition. 

Side quest before I get to the book - There are different ways to go about naming things. For example, the United Nations does not have a definition of Indigenous peoples. The United Nations chooses a strategy instead where they "identify, rather than define indigenous peoples." If academia were to take the same approach towards naming Indigenous methodologies, then an Indigenous methodology would be, in the words of Lana Ray, "how Indigenous people approach research." Knowledge is socially constructed and the product of social interactions. In my wildest dreams there is a parallel dimension where this is the pathway taken... where Indigenous scholars created a body of scholarly literature which said "the defining feature of Indigenous methodology is the identity of the researcher." But in this dimension, the one we live in, the socially constructed approach taken in Canadian post-secondary has been to not shy away from creating a definition. The approach taken has been to try to suss out what objective markers define Indigenous methodology, or ought to define Indigenous methodology. What is notable about this approach is that by creating a definition, it now draws a line where some work sits outside of that definition, regardless of the identity of the researcher. If the United Nations approach were taken, Indigenous methodology would be identified rather than defined, and Indigenous methodology would be the ways that Indigenous people approach research. But as definitions now exist outside of Indigenous people, theoretically, now there are two categories of Indigenous researchers: Indigenous researchers who's work is Indigenous methodology and Indigenous researchers who's work is not Indigenous methodology. A definition disembodies Indigenous methodology, it has become reified. It is now a thing that is outside of the Indigenous researcher, and then the researcher, if they choose, strives towards it. And as Indigenous methodology is now disembodied from Indigenous people, it is now also something that the non-Indigenous researcher can strive towards as well. Not one person caused this to happen. It was a movement. And I trust that it was strategically the best direction to take at the time. 

From a critical theory standpoint, I totally understand how and why this happened. As Lana Ray says, it's strategic. In the context of unequal power relations, having a definition is a form of protection. It ensures that Indigenous people are not tokenized, being used to grant legitimacy to projects which do not further the interests of Indigenous people. And it ensures that non-Indigenous people can't just call any random work that they do "Indigenous methodology." It creates a standard for people to live up to. And it professionalizes Indigenous research methodologies. Depending on the definition, it can also be an avenue to ensure that there is broader Indigenous engagement in research projects. And it also legitimizes Indigenous approaches to knowledge, such as dreaming. Within the context of ongoing colonization, this is a strategy for decolonization. And within Eurocentric institutions, this is also a strategy for Indigenization. A number of Indigenous researchers, through their work in the university, have decided that this is strategically the best pathway forward. 

And Margaret Kovach's work, for many, has become the north star of that movement. 

Her work was initially driven by the desire to find a solution to a problem. As a PhD student, she started taking research methodology courses and was "not able to understand why research textbooks do not offer Indigenous frameworks as a methodological option for research." (p.5). Her experience with reflexive and positivist research was that they "are historically embedded within and arise from Western thought and thus cannot help but formulate interpretations through a western gaze or construct." (p.26). She describes her experience: "Of the methodologies available, I initially chose phenomenology as grounded in a constructivist paradigm with its value placed upon an experiential, self-in-relation interpretive tradition. However, phenomenology did not encompass the decolonizing, social justice dimension of my question. After much thought, i turned to a transformative paradigm and a qualitative methodology anchored in critical theory, but I found that the primary focus on power discourses overtook a holistic, experiential approach. And so I tried to employ a constructivist and transformative paradigm in one singular design. Perhaps a combination of the two would work? More headache, something was still missing." (p.50). So she put aside western methodologies, "returned to Indigenous teachings" (p.51) and eventually turned to Shawn Wilson's research as ceremony as well as an abductive approach, including dreams. In one part, she cites Shawn Wilson, who says this about western paradigms: "as Indigenous researchers we need to move beyond these, beyond merely assuming an Indigenous perspective on these non-Indigenous paradigms." (Wilson in Kovach, p.32). 

What came out of this searching was this definition: "For a methodology to be correctly identified as an Indigenous methodology, it must be anchored in Indigenous epistemology, theory, ethics, story, and community." (p.42). She says "Indigenous methodologies are founded upon Indigenous knowledges and guided by Indigenous people." (p.16). I note that "guided by" is a phrase which makes room for the possibility of a non-Indigenous researcher being guided by Indigenous people. With respect to community, she says "As a guard against ethical infringement in Indigenous research, an ethical vetting by Indigenous communities and establishments is recommended as a decolonizing imperative." (p.53). She also says "In theoretical research, there might not be human subject research, but the focus could be on an Indigenous community in some manner. Determining the Indigenous community to engage with will largely depend on the researcher's relationship with community in tandem with the subject and aim of the research project." (p.118). I note, though, that she guards her own ties, as she says "In my research I did not want to exploit community or familial knowledge or have this knowledge subject to dismissal (or appropriation)." so she was selective about what she shared in terms of her own sacred knowledge (p.100). I thought this was interesting. This is  a difficult paradigm that Indigenous researchers face, where sometimes one is working within a cultural or spiritual framework that will never be revealed to the reader. Indigenous people, including Indigenous students, have the right to both freedom of religion and privacy, so it's fair to say "I choose not to share this." But what makes it difficult is if one says "I chose to structure my work in this this way for spiritual reasons, but I will not discuss those spiritual reasons." Going back to the post from yesterday, one of the chapters in Sweeney Windchief and Timothy San Pedro's book briefly touches on this. 

She has a question and answer section. One question is whether or not Indigenous methodologies are really different from western qualitative approaches. She says that "Indigenous methodologies are different from Western methodologies because they are based on Indigenous knowledges and and Indigenous knowledges are different from Western knowledges. Indigenous knowledges require an Indigenous interpretation throughout. Adding an Indigenous 'look' to research that is predominantly Western in its theorizing and methods creates methodological floundering and can lead to tokenism." (p.37). Along the same vein, in a different section she says "We must not totally whitewash Indigenous research by pushing aside Indigenous methodologies or calling research 'Indigenous methodologies' when it is, in actuality, Indigenous research employing a methodology from Western intellectual tradition." (p.113). I actually do have something that I wonder about this. I require an example to articulate this wondering, so I will use Fanon as my example. Fanon drew upon a number of western based methodologies, including psychoanalysis, phenomenology, and existentialism. If one were to create a project which used Fanon's work as the theoretical framework, would it not fit into Kovach's definition? I acknowledge that I'm splitting hairs here. I'm not trying to be contrarian. I ask these types of questions in order to try to clearly understand the parameters of the definition. 

The question and answer section also contains the question of whether or not non-Indigenous researchers or researchers with little community connection can do Indigenous research methodologies, she says "not all research involving Indigenous people requires Indigenous methodologies." (p.38). I note the contrast between this stance, and the stance made by Sweeney Windchief and Timothy San Pedro in the preface to their book, where they say that if you are not using Indigenous methodologies you are perpetuating colonialism and dehumanizing others. Of the two stances, I prefer Kovach's. I'm biased in this because due to the nature of my work over the last ten years or so, I have done inquiries using a variety of methods. In response to the question posed about the identity of the researchers, Kovach also says "it's all about relationships." (p.39). 

I have a lot of notes on this book, but I won't blog all of them. These are the things that caught my attention at this point in time. Likely, I could pick it up five years from now and different things would stand out to me. I might come back to this book at a later time and say more. 

Lha Yudit'ih: We Always Find A Way - Bringing the Tsilhqot'in Title Case Home

 While I am on a methodology blogging spree, I want to talk about Lha Yudit'ih for a minute. I might do another post about it later. But for this post, I just want to talk about the methodology. 

The book is a collaboration between Chief Roger William and UBC researcher Lorraine Weir. I actually met Lorraine when she was early in this work. It was a long time ago, and I don't have notes, but I recall her telling me that she wanted to interview Roger about the title case to write the book, and he told her that in order to tell the story of the title case, she needed to talk to everyone, not just him. And I thought to myself "she's going to be here for a long time." 

In terms of Indigenous methodology, this is illustrative of the way that the researcher may have an idea that they want to pursue and an preliminary idea of how to pursue it. But a responsive researcher will be open to shifting their methodology according to the priorities set forth by Indigenous people. 

In order to collect interviews, she would go to events and make herself available for people to approach her, and then she would let them talk about whatever they thought was relevant in order to tell the story of the title case. Much of the presentation contains lengthy direct quotes, and then the assembling of interviews and connecting and contextual information is the interpretation. 

The book contains in the front matter an explicit statement making it clear that the book is not a representation of the Tsilhqot'in Nation or any of the five communities. I like the disclaimer. I think sometimes scholars try to assert that their projects are representative of Indigenous people. But in a way, that creates a system where Indigenous people are further marginalized because the researcher short circuits the ability of the community to represent itself. To me, the credibility of the work is enhanced by this disclaimer and the disclaimer affirms sovereignty. 

In the introduction, there is an explanation of how the project early on was presented at multiple events, including general assemblies of Xeni Gwet'in and Tsilhqot'in National Government gatherings, and how TNG staff was also kept appraised of the work as it progressed. Roger was the chief for most of the project, but when he was not chief, Xeni Gwet'in was still involved. I think this is an excellent example of Indigenous Research Methodology because the community had a great deal of control over the both the process and the outcome throughout the project. There is a high degree of rigor in terms of community based verification of the goal of the research, the process, and the outcome. And by the community, I mean the nation as a whole, including elected representatives, people who attended the governance meetings and gathering, and people who chose to contribute their thoughts to the project. When researchers claim that their methodology reflects respect for sovereignty - this is the gold standard in my opinion. There are a lot of definitions of Indigenous research methodologies. To me, the number one characteristic is the involvement of Indigenous people in shaping the aim, process, and product. 

I loved this book. I'll probably re-read it again and again. And I'm so grateful to Roger and Lorraine for their good work. 

Thursday, December 19, 2024

Indigenous methodology books

 It's hard to believe it's been a month since I last posted. Time flies. During this strange time between submitting my dissertation and waiting for my defense, I have been reconnecting with friends that I have not talked to in a while. This is a strange time. I am no longer writing. But I need to stay in a headspace where I am thinking about my writing. I feel as though I am in a state of suspended animation. 

I relied on books a great deal during my doctoral work. I really like the meatiness of single author scholarly books. And collections created with intention. I like to annotate my books, write ideas in the front pages, add post it notes, and dog ear them. My favourite thing to do, though, is to sort them into piles on the floor. More than once during my doctoral work, I'd start my day by sitting on the floor and sorting and re-sorting my books into little piles, creating a little nest of ideas for myself. Once they are in piles sometimes I sort each pile according to year or according to relevance. It's like a little game. And then, I admire my arrangement. 

I've been slowly emerging from my writing phase. I took the books off the floor. Before they go back onto my bookshelf, I want to blog my favorite piles. When I finished my MA, I recall going through a phase where I wanted to blog books I had read. I wanted to catalogue them for future reference, and I typed out a lot of notes so that I could easily cite them in the future. It was pretty chaotic. It did prove to be a little bit useful when it came time to do my PhD. Not as much as I thought it would be, though. 

This time around, I am not going to blog each book extensively. Instead, I am just going to mention books that made an impact on me with a few notes. 

I thought about summarizing each book. But when I went back and looked at my notes, they didn't really lend themselves to a summary. My notes are related to what caught my attention, and what caught my attention was pretty narrow, because I was looking for connections with Indigenous science fiction and hermeneutics. So my notes don't really support the task of creating a summary, and I don't have the want to undertake the work of summarizing at this time, and so I am not going to provide summaries. 

Also, I want to note that this is not an attempt to be an exhaustive list of Indigenous methodology books. I read Research is Ceremony during my MA, and as I wanted to cover new-to-me ground for my PhD, I didn't re-read it for my PhD, so that is a notable absence. Another notable absence is Peter Cole's book. I have it, I read it, and it made an impression on me. But the little people took it. I trust it will return eventually. I also want to note that there are a lot of Indigenous education books which speak to Indigenous methodology. Even though this collection is on books that are primarily focused on Indigenous methodology, there are a lot of books in Indigenous education which are also helpful in illuminating the idea of Indigenous methodology.

The first book of mention is Jo-Anne Archibald's 2008 Indigenous Storywork. I think that the first time I read this, I was waiting for the stories. But this book is not sharing the research product - the stories gathered in her project. Rather, it is sharing the thought that went into the research process. This book has stood the test of time. In fact, as time goes on, I think it only becomes more impressive because of the fact that people have taken up the ideas of storywork in their own ways over time. The book can be used in two ways. First, some people use the book as a guide for their own work. Second, some people are inspired by the way that Archibald created something which reflects her own orientations to the world, and use it as inspiration to create their own way of engaging in research. I hear so many people talk about how this book inspired them, and so my respect for this work only grows over time. I thought it was interesting on page 36 when she asked herself "Was I doing anything different from earlier 'outsider' academics who created a legacy of mistrust among First Nations concerning academic research?" and when she reflected on the fact that "Even though I am a First Nations person and have some initial understandings about various First Nations cultures, I became like an outsider when I began to use the 'tools' of literacy to record my research observations and reflections about the oral traditions and practices through fieldnotes and now in this book..." Working with her mentors helped her resolve these concerns in part. But she also states on page 42 "I also want to transform my anxiety into positive action and begin to make systemic change so that learning institutions such as schools, colleges, and universities appropriately recognize and provide compensation for he knowledge expertise of Elders and cultural teachers." 

The second book is Margaret Kovach's 2009 Indigenous Methodologies: Characteristics, Conversations, and Contexts. I actually have a more recent version of this, so I'm not going to say much about this edition, except to say that it was the beginning of something bigger. And as this book is epic, I am going to write a separate post about it. 

The next book is John Borrow's 2010 book Drawing Out Law: A Spirit's Guide. What I love most about this book is that it isn't trying to fit into a western or scholarly paradigm. It does not justify itself. It just is. In this book, based on Anishinaabe tradition, he uses his dreams to create ideagrams/scrolls, and meditates on the images. He consults with his family and reflects on his experiences with scholarship, life, and the law. He engages in some imaginative storytelling. And that's the book. As a whole, it is an extremely interesting commentary on politics in Canada. Theoretically someone could recreate his method if they wanted. I haven't seen people try to do so in scholarship. I don't know that I would want to try to recreate his method. But I think that the fact that he took elements of his own Anishinaabe knowledge traditions (dreams, stories, creating these drawing and meditating on their meaning) and created a scholarly work out of those traditions is impressive. I think it's an assertion of intellectual sovereignty to just do what you want to do. 

The next book is Kathleen E. Absolon's 2011 Kaandossiwin: How We Come to Know. In this book, the author studied the methodologies of other Indigenous researchers by examining their work and having conversations with them. Her book is based off of her petal flower, which is her wholistic framework. I think her flower is cool. Overall, I really liked her voice. I felt like she was really accepting of other's work. Early in my doctoral work, someone told me that I had to choose the right methodology, or no one would take me seriously. I found that that advice really constrained my creativity, and led from a place of fear. While I'm sure the comment was meant to be supportive, it actually took me awhile to recover from that comment. This book helped me recover from this comment, because it helped me see that rather than approaching methodology from a place of fear, it is possible for Indigenous researchers to act on their inner knowing of what they think the right way is to proceed, and it affirmed for me that there are many ways to be Indigenous within academia. We don't all have to do things the same way, and there is no "right" methodology. In fact, many Indigenous scholars do not use something that already exists, they create a methodology that is right for them. For me, this book contained courageous role models. It was also cool, reading this book more than ten years after it was published, to see how many of the names in this book are familiar because they have done a lot of great work in academia since this book was published. 

The next book is Linda Tuhiwai Smith's 2012 Decolonizing Methodologies: Research and  Indigenous Peoples, Second Edition. I sometimes catch myself in my mind use the terms "decolonizing methodologies" and "Indigenous methodologies" interchangeably. In the foreword, Smith says "Decolonizing methodologies hinted at the possibility of Indigenous research methodologies but did not fully explore these. In recent years much more is being published that explicitly focuses on indigenous research methodologies, indigenous knowledge and indigenous practices and, increasingly these studies are written by indigenous scholars." (p.xiii). In the introduction, she talks about the complexities of being an indigenous researcher, both in terms of relationship with the academy (which assumes that as one is western educated, they can't speak from a place of authenticity) and with the community (in terms of avoiding replicating the harm of colonial modes of research and also grappling with being an outsider). She concludes the introduction by stating that this book is written specifically with indigenous researchers in mind. I love this because I am so rarely the target audience. The book goes on to document the history of colonial research and then imagine how Indigenous researchers might do research differently. I particularly like the section on twenty five Indigenous projects. In the introduction, she says this should not be read as a how to guide, but rather "a series of accounts and guidelines which map a wide range of research-related issues." (p.9). I think that's important to note, because part of the colonial mode of being is to point to a book as an authority and say "this authoritative person says this is what we ought to do, and so this is what you ought to do." If one were to take her book, and say that all Indigenous people should adhere to it, and turn it into a narrow set of rules, then that would be a re-enactment of colonialism. This is an important point, because the book does come from a very specific academic tradition - critical theory. That is the home that she has found for this work inside of the university, and certainly critical theory has been a good vehicle for bringing  Indigenous thought into the academy. However, each Indigenous scholar ought to have freedom and choice in deciding whether or not they want to be critical theorists, and also in deciding whether or not critical theory is the correct choice for each project. 

The next book is Jo-ann Archibald Q'um Q'um Xiiem, Jenny Bol Jun Lee-Morgan, and Jason De Santolo's 2019 book Decolonizing Research: Indigenous Storywork as Methodology. I think this book is really cool because it brings together Indigenous people from three continents, and they draw on Jo-ann Archibald's storywork as inspiration for their work. It also has a forward written by Linda Tuhiwai Smith. The editors have a foreword, and then the chapters are by various contributors. What is cool is that the first four chapters are Archibald's students who used her work to generate their own research. I think it speaks to the testament of her mentorship that just over ten years after publishing her book, a number of others are publishing research based off of her work. The introduction is interesting. In the 2008 Storywork book, Linda Smith is cited, but critical theorists like Fannon, Friere, and Said are not. The first time that I read the 2008 book, my first impression was not that it sprang out of critical theory. Rather, it felt like it was grounded within community based knowledge, and also informed by the work of other Indigenous people engaging in story. I'm not saying it was incongruent with critical theory, just that it didn't feel like it tightly adhered to critical theory, but not particularly driven by or oriented towards critical theory. And I admire the way that the book emphasizes voices Indigenous to this region. What makes the introduction to this book interesting is that it draws some clear lines to connect Archibald's work with Smith's work. The first part of the introduction summarizes storywork, and the second part summarizes Indigenous research as decolonization. When reading the chapter, I get the impression that the goal of the chapter was not to distinguish Indigenous research from decolonizing research, but rather to place Indigenous research inside of decolonizing research. For example, "Indigenous storywork may be considered a genre of decolonizing methodologies," (p.7). It does draw some very clear lines in the sand with respect to what is and is not Indigenous research. For example, "No matter how much knowledge (or qualification) a person accumulates, if the knowledge, research, or stories do not reach the collective consciousness of the wider group, then the person is failing to act in an Indigenous manner. Decolonizing research is not merely ethical research in terms of the requirements of the academy of institutions' more importantly it meets the criteria set by our own communities, who will often sanction the integrity and credibility of the story using their own measures." (p.7). And "Linda Tuhiwai Smith emphasizes, we can only make meaning within the community and not in the four walls of the tiered lecture theatre," (p.11). Thus, if one were to adhere to the criteria set out in this chapter, participatory action methodologies would be required. This pre-emptively rules out the idea that conceptual work or modes such as literary analysis would meet the definition. If one is to stay true to this concept, Indigenous research involves Indigenous people, plural, not one Indigenous person carrying out an individual inquiry. I'd be interested to see more work developed around what rigor means and how it is documented/demonstrated if one is to adhere to this concept that community members are the ones who determine the credibility of the research. I'd also be curious to know, when people employ this logic within university based research, do they have two stages for the ethics board. The first stage, to engage the community in co-developing the research design, and the second stage to get approval on the co-developed research design? The other question that I have, is whether or not there are ever conflicts where the community wants a specific research design, and the ethics board says no. If so, at that point, does the ethics board become a form of discipline to which communities must adhere to? 

The next book is Robin Starr Minthorn and Heather J. Shotton's 2019 book Reclaiming Indigenous Research in Higher Education. It begins with a foreword by Bryan McKinley Jones Brayboy, who asks "can a Native person engage in research and still be Native?" Then, he goes on to say "Of course it bears noting that Native people have always been researchers. As such, we have always had ideas about the purposes and role of research." (p.x). This is a notable difference from Smith's framing, where research is something that is done by the academy, and the roots of research lie outside of Indigenous communities. In Smith's framing, research came along with colonialism, as a tool of colonialism, which now must be transformed into something decolonial. Brayboy's framing is that we have always been researchers, and now we bring our modes of researching into the academy. The introduction, written by the editors, explains that a group of colleagues who created their own Indigenous space within a larger academic organization came together to write this book. I think it's cool when people who already have social connections come together with a specific vision for a project. They provide a genealogy of Indigenous methodologies and frameworks (Devon Mihesuah and Shawn Wilson, Linda Tuhiwai Smith, Bryan McKinley Jones Brayboy, Shawn Wilson, Margaret Kovach, Oliverira and Wright). The introduction chapter is very much focused on the challenges that Indigenous scholars face and how they navigate those challenges. A key point is that "What cannot be overlooked is that Indigenous research methodologies include an ancestry that is embodied within the researcher." (p.15). This is actually a significant statement, because I think that there is not yet consensus on the idea of whether or not non-Indigenous people can do Indigenous research. These editors have taken a position - the Indigenous identity of the researcher is integral to the definition of Indigenous research. The chapters that follow include research by Indigenous researchers on different aspects of post-secondary such as Indigenous student leadership and Indigenous student funding. Overall, the focus is very much inward looking, in that it does not look outwards into Indigenous communities. Rather, it looks inwards towards experiences of Indigenous people within universities, with an eye towards what universities can do differently to support Indigenous students. There is a wide range of methodologies used, including some chapters which focus on statistical analysis. The editors have written an excellent conclusion to end the book. They state "there is not a singular approach to Indigenous Methodologies. As the authors in this book have demonstrated, Indigenous Methodologies provide us the space to approach our research from our own frameworks and to privilege our own Indigenous and tribal epistemologies." (p.208). They also state that "there are different approaches to applying Indigenous Methodologies in higher education research, but they're all distinct and beautiful in their own ways." (p.209). They recommend that both Indigenous and non-Indigenous scholars have a responsibility to support future Indigenous scholars, and "to respect the different types of work emerging from our future Indigenous scholars." (p.210). I really like this, because it would be oppressive if we were to say to future generations "there is only one right way to do things, and it is the way that we have done things." Letting future generations play and experiment and try to out new things is important, because maybe they will do cool things that we have never dreamt of. There is something about this book which makes it feel different from the previous books. I'm not sure what it is and its neither good nor bad. I felt supported by this book. 

The next book is Sweeney Windchief and Timothy San Pedro's 2019 Applying Indigenous Research Methods: Storying with Peoples and Communities. It contains a forward by series editors Eve Tuck and K. Wayne Yang. In the preface. According to Tuck and Yang, what makes Indigenous research methods distinct is relational accountability (p.xii). "Creating and maintaining respectful and mutually beneficial relationships between researchers and Indigenous communities (even when the researcher comes from the community) is of utmost importance, in part because Indigenous peoples have sometimes been mistreated and misled by academic researchers, both in the distant and recent past." (p.xii). Again I ponder, does this mean that individual conceptual works or literary analysis projects do not fall under the scope of Indigenous research methods? Tuck and Yang assert that Indigenous Research Methods do not fall under critical race theory, and that Indigenous worldviews and decolonizing theory should be treated as "distinct philosophical traditions." (p.xii). I am not sure how much I agree with this. I think that decolonizing theory is in the same general realm (critical theory) as critical race theory. I think of them as similar but not the same - like broccoli and cauliflower. I'm not sure what that benefit is of making this distinction, other than to try to safeguard decolonizing methodology from the critical race theory backlash. I think Indigenous worldviews are much larger than what exists in scholarship or the academy, let alone any single school of thought, so I have no qualms about saying that it is broader and distinct from critical race theory. The preface of the book is written by the editors. One of the editors is of European and Filipino ancestry but was raised in an Indigenous community who told him that he is FilipIndian. The fact that he is co-editing an Indigenous Research Methods book implicitly answers the question "can non-Indigenous people do Indigenous Research Methods?" The preface says "When Indigenous methodologies are absent in Indigenous research, the results - the interpretation itself and dissemination of that interpretation - serves as a colonial tool of erasure that manifests in dehumanizing ways." (p.xviii). It's worth unpacking a few things here. First, not all Indigenous research uses Indigenous methodologies. Second, according to the authors, if you don't use Indigenous Methodologies (as defined in this book), you are perpetuating colonialism and dehumanizing others. I'm uncomfortable with the forcefulness of that claim. The editors also state that "Indigenous methods call for active participation and contribution to Indigenous community, culture, language, and social practice, through story." (p.xviii). The preface explains that this is a collection of chapters which were written by researchers who were instructed to yarn - that is, to talk together about how they apply Indigenous Research Methods. These conversations between researchers serve to illustrate and explain what Indigenous Research Methods are. Overall, I think the collection is great. My favourite chapter is one which talks about how to do culturally sustaining education in a context where, due to protocols limiting the dissemination of Indigenous knowledge beyond specific people, the educator is not able to culturally infuse all Indigenous knowledge for that community into the curriculum. Overall I thought this was an interesting read. And it is particularly interesting because of the multiple expressions of foundational Indigenous Methodology folks such as Smith, Archibald, Kovach, and Wilson. It demonstrates the dynamic nature of Indigenous methodologies. 

So, that's a quick survey of some of the Indigenous methodology books that I read. As my dissertation did not include working with Indigenous people (it involved me sitting by myself with books) - I actually did not feel comfortable calling my work Indigenous methodology, because according to many of these books, the participation of Indigenous people (plural) is integral to the definition. I recognize that in the context of unequal power relations, it is strategically beneficial to Indigenous people to uphold this definition. And I have no misgivings about saying "this specific project does not adhere to definitions of Indigenous Research Methodology that I have encountered." It is an ethical stance which I choose to take, and just because I didn't use Indigenous Research Methodologies for one project, does not mean that I will never use them. I feel good about my decision. That being said, reading about Indigenous Research Methodologies enhanced how I approached my own conceptual work. 


Monday, November 18, 2024

Favourite article - Lana Ray

 Hello Readers,

I just returned from Ottawa where I co-presented a workshop on centering Indigenous workers in reconcilation efforts. I haven't been to Ottawa for awhile. One of my biggest priorities while I was there was to get poutine, and on the last day I did get to go get poutine in an underground pub with my BC colleagues and a new colleague/friend from Ontario. Reasons why Ontario poutine is better than BC poutine:

  • crispier fries 
  • saltier gravy 
  • meltier cheese 

It's probably a good thing that BC poutine is sub-par, because if it weren't, I would probably eat it more often, and goodness knows it's not exactly health food. 




Anyhow, I am just popping by here to share the best article that I read while working on my dissertation. This may or may not be a "best of" series. I'm wishy-washy about a series because now that I have a defense date, I am supposed to be spending my energy right now preparing for my defense. Maybe blogging will help me prepare. If I find it helpful, I will keep going. But if not, then I will just once again pause blogging for awhile. 

Anyhow, the article is called "Deciphering the 'Indigenous' in Indigenous Methodologies" by Lana Ray. Ray explains that when she first encountered the phrase "Indigenous methodologies" she thought it simply meant "how Indigenous people approach research" however, as she studied, she learned that actually it is "a mix of approaches and theories that were grounded in or congruent with pan-Indigenous principles and/or experiences such as colonialism." (p.87).

 According to Ray, strategic Indigenous methodologies "work largely within critical theory, are motivated by anti-colonial and anti-oppressive agendas, and work toward establishing an equitable relationship with the state." (p.86).  Strategic Indigenous methodologies "Strategic Indigenous methodologies work predominately but not exclusively within emancipatory (for example, critical and participatory action research) and deconstructive (for example, poststructural and postmodern) approaches which fall under the umbrella of post-positivism" (p.90). She emphasizes the importance of retaining the parameters of this definition, because if the phrase is used beyond the scope of it's intended parameters, then it will lose its meaning (p.91). She also flags a risk, which is that these methodologies may lead one to a place where "Indigenous peoples can only view themselves through the lenses of oppression and resistance" (p.91). 

Ray also introduces a concept that it not within strategic Indigenous methodologies, and that is convergence Indigenous methodologies. She says that convergence methodologies "employ broad understandings present within Traditional knowledge systems, are motivated by decolonization and revitalization efforts, and work toward the inclusion of Traditional knowledges." (p.86). She has a cool graph, where one line is traditional knowledge system/traditional methodology and the other line is western knowledge system positivism/western methodology. The two lines have arrows, and they are perpindicular to each other. But they intersect. I like this diagram because it doesn't force Indigenous knowledge systems into alignment with western knowledge systems. And the goal of Indigneous knowledge systems is not to expand the parameters of western knowledge systems. Even though they are going in different directions, they both exist, and the moment which they touch each other is generative. She also has another similar graph but in place of positivist is post-positivist. The angle is slightly different. She makes the claim that post-positivism is "less abrupt" but there is still not perfect alignment between traditonal knowledge/methodology and post-positivism. 

Both include elements of both traditional and western knowledge. She says that "they both work for Indigenous peoples, whether by forwarding anti-colonial and anti-oppressive agendas or incorporating Traditional knowledge systems within research methodologies." (p.97).

The article was written in 2012, but I think it remains relevant today. I'm not sure that since 2012, there has been any emergence of a methodology that eludes any contact with western methodology. I think that strategic Indigenous methodologies have firmly entrenched themselves within the Canadian landscape, and when I look at SSHRC's merit criteria for scholarships and fellowships awarded for Indigenous research, it aligns with some of the key elements of strategic Indigneous research https://www.sshrc-crsh.gc.ca/funding-financement/merit_review-evaluation_du_merite/guidelines_research-lignes_directrices_recherche-eng.aspx  I note for example, the requirement that "Community involvement and the co-creation of knowledge, as appropriate, are considered essential, especially in data interpretation. In this context, the co-creation of knowledge could include interpretative approaches that are jointly developed, reviewed and confirmed by and with community members or their community-delegated organization." This definitely reflects the participatory element of strategic Indigenous methodologies. 

I think that Ray's distinction between the two is useful, and I really appreciate the way that she has done a geneology. I also think that the fact that she flagged that there is a risk that if one uses only strategic Indigenous methodologies, there is a risk of one's perception of self being overtaken by the identity of oppression. Sometimes I have tried to initiate projects which begin with a strengths based approach grounded in a specific Indigenous concept, and then had requests to instead begin the work with a foundation which centers the experience of colonization, and it changes the work. Instead of an Indigenous concept standing on its own, it becomes subsumed within a larger story of colonialism. Instead of leading with Indigenous knowledge, it shifts the work to lead with a specific scholarly paradigm. At an intuitive level, I've felt the shift but been unable to articulate what shifted, and actually I've abandoned projects because that shift caused me to feel uninspired by my own work. Ray's article helped me see how that shift happens (from initial conception of a project to modifying a project to fit within strategic Indigenous methodologies) and I feel hopeful that with Ray's insights in mind, in the future I can navigate through that challenge and back towards a generative position. I've also found that it is difficult to simply assert Indigenous knowledge and proceed as an Indigenous person within the academy, as when one is inside of the academy, one always has to explain how any type of knowing links up with western knowledge. It's difficult to simply exist Indigenously inside of the academy, as one always has to explain their relationality to western knowledge inside of the academy. Ray's article affirms the that this is a difficult way to proceed within the academy, and I found it to be generally encouraging because it validates rather than glossing over that difficulty. 

Ray's article didn't specifically talk about the importance of sustaining communities of knowledge outside of academy, nonetheless it affirmed for me the idea that communities of knowledge outside of the academy are critical for sustaining Indigenous knowledges, as they are sites where Indigenous knowledge can just exist. I enjoy being in such spaces where Indigenous knowledge exists without having to justify itself in relation to non-Indigenous paradigms. Ray's article also affirmed for me the importance of strategic Indigenous methodologies within institutions, and strengthened my commitment to upholding the integrity of clear parameters for Indigenous methodologies. 

I located this article after Adam Murry referred to it in a lecture at SFU.

Readers please note - I am typing directly into the blogger website, and it doesn't have spellcheck. Typing directly into the blogger website is part of my creative process. Sometimes I start things in word and forget about them. If I type directly into the website, I just keep the tab open and it helps me manage my attention. I might come back some day, copy and paste this into word to catch typos, and then re-post. For now, though, I'm just going to post in spite of the fact that there may be typos. 


Thursday, September 12, 2024

Olúfẹ́mi Táíwò and contested definitions of decolonisation

iTunes and Amazon keep recommending that I read Against Decolonisation: Taking African Agency Seriously. I finally caved and listened to it. Here's the publisher's description: 

Decolonisation has lost its way. Originally a struggle to escape the West’s direct political and economic control, it has become a catch-all idea, often for performing ‘morality’ or ‘authenticity’; it suffocates African thought and denies African agency.

Olúfẹ́mi Táíwò fiercely rejects the indiscriminate application of ‘decolonisation’ to everything from literature, language and philosophy to sociology, psychology and medicine. He argues that the decolonisation industry, obsessed with cataloguing wrongs, is seriously harming scholarship on and in Africa. He finds ‘decolonisation’ of culture intellectually unsound and wholly unrealistic, conflating modernity with coloniality, and groundlessly advocating an open-ended undoing of global society’s foundations. Worst of all, today’s movement attacks its own cause: ‘decolonisers’ themselves are disregarding, infantilising and imposing values on contemporary African thinkers.

This powerful, much-needed intervention questions whether today’s ‘decolonisation’ truly serves African empowerment. Táíwò’s is a bold challenge to respect African intellectuals as innovative adaptors, appropriators and synthesisers of ideas they have always seen as universally relevant.

I think that I would not have been so open to reading it if I hadn't already been annoyed with the way that some people are using the word decolonisation. For example, when I hear calls to decolonise the police, I can't help but to feel that the word is often being used wrong. The history of policing as a mechanism to violate Indigenous peoples' rights is well documented. See for example The Report of the Aboriginal Justice Commission of Manitoba. In my mind, true decolonisation demands abolition. I'm not against decolonisation. But I am troubled by the way some people characterize decolonisation. And so I did listen to the book. 

The premise of the book is that decolonisation has lost its way. I actually think that a different framing would be that there is currently a power struggle going on with respect to what the words means. People are using it for all sorts of things, and rather than being against decolonisation, I think that the focus could be on more carefully defining decolonisation and becoming more vocal about its misuse.

I think the book sets up a false dichotomy between decolonisation and Indigenous agency. Indigenous agency is the heart of decolonisation. The book was valid, however, in pointing out that if people in positions of authority have a fixed and predetermined set of criteria regarding what decolonisation "looks like", and then they unilaterally impose it upon Indigenous people, then  they are actually recolonising. 

Overall, I felt like the book was intentionally provocative. I would recommend reading this book if you have the capacity to be fuelled by controversy. I also recommend reading this book in order to be aware of what critics of decolonisation are saying. I do not recommend reading this book if you are working on decolonising projects and are already feeling unsupported, as this book would be discouraging to read if you were already in a position of feeling unsupported. 

Monday, July 15, 2024

Slash/Back

 

Slash/Back is an alien invasion film written by Nyla Innuksuk (Inuk) and Ryan Cavan, and directed by Nyla Innuksuk (2022). It begins with Maika as a small girl in a small boat. Her father is teaching her to shoot. Six years later, Maika is at home with her father and he goes to ask her for help, but she declines to help and rushes out of the house to see her friends. The friends, a group of Inuit teenaged girls, are hanging around town and they see Maika’s dad standing outside of a store selling meat. Maika is embarrassed by her dad. The girls decide to take his boat for a joyride.

They dock in an isolated area. One of the girls tells a story:

Uki: You know the Kattuk boy that went missing last spring?

Leena: Yeah.

Uki: Well, Brenda was talking to Billy Mike, and Billy Mike was talking to a fisherman from Iqaluit, and he said that he saw the boy playing by the water. And then, like, a fog rolls in. And out comes a grey head, with long black hair. And you know what happens next?

Leena: What?

Uki: He snatches the boy and drags him into the water.

Leena: Qalupalik.

Maika: Get out of here with that silly Inuk shit

While on the land, they encounter a strange bear which they shoot. They return to the village. As all of the adults in the village prepare to go to a dance, the girls secretly plan to go to a house party. While at the house party, Maika expresses disdain for Inuit visual culture. Meanwhile, one of the girls returns to the area where they shot the bear and learns that the strange bear was not really a bear, it was an alien in disguise and there are other aliens which kill animals and then wear their skins in order to disguise their alien nature. She rushes back to the village to tell the other girls but they think she is making up silly stories, as she is known for telling Inuit stories. But then an alien attacks the party. The girls outfit themselves with modern and traditional hunting weapons. “Nobody fucks with the girls from Pang,” they state, as they bring out a felt marker pen to adorn themselves with traditional face markings. The girls have a series of skirmishes with the aliens in various locations. They follow one of the aliens to Maika’s house where her dad is attacked by an alien in the kitchen. Maika has a quick flashback moment from six years ago where her father showed her a blade, and told her that it was her great grandfather’s blade. Her great grandfather was the greatest hunter in Pang, and someday the blade would be hers. As the father is pinned down by the alien, Maika uses her great grandfather’s blade to attack the alien and saves her father. The girls successfully fight aliens to the point that aliens leave earth. One month later Maika and her father are running a traditional food stand together and are very happy.

I enjoyed every minute of this movie. The aspect of it that I appreciate the most is its representation of Indigenous girlhood. According to the Truth and Reconciliation Final Report, residential schools imposed colonial gender roles onto Indigenous people, and these gender roles negatively impacted the role that women traditionally played in Indigenous families and communities (Truth and Reconciliation Commission, 2015, 147). My grandmother did not go to residential school. Her childhood was on the land. She got married young. She was a full contributor to her family through hunting and fishing. She was not overly constricted by Christian gender roles. When I saw this movie which features female hunters who were capable and determined, I felt proud of the role of women in my family and our history. The idea that women are capable and fierce is one of the gifts that my ancestors have given me.

I was particularly struck by the moment when Maika’s dad was trapped, unable to help himself, and Maika took her grandfather’s hunting weapon and used it to save her dad. He taught her how to hunt, and she used that knowledge to save him. It was a transformative moment of connection. Earlier in the movie she had expressed shame and embarrassment about her culture. She wished to distance herself from it. Nonetheless, it was there when she needed it. She exercised it as a way to save herself, her family, and her community. She contributed to the world and demonstrated leadership through culture. And this transformed her, bringing her closer to her father. Early in the movie, when her father was selling meat in front of the store, she was embarrassed by him. But later in the movie, when they have a food stand together in front of the store, she is proud and happy.

Sometimes trying to hide from one’s identity can seem like a logical choice. Here’s the mental shortcut that her character may have taken. “My family is struggling financially. Perhaps the cause of our struggles is our Indigenous identity. Perhaps if I distance myself from being Indigenous, my life will get easier.” But then, she is put into a position where her identity, and specifically the cultural knowledge her dad has taught her, is a resource. This moves her from a place of shame to pride. This arc is not unique to Slash/Back. Literary scholar Mandy Suhr Sytsma says Indigenous young adult texts:

do tend to be strongly focalized through individual young Native protagonists who mature as they move from rebellion against, to reconciliation with their Indigenous communities, these protagonists experience an increase rather than a decrease of personal agency as a result of that reconciliation. Furthermore, their rebellion against colonial ideologies do not diminish but instead intensifies as the narratives draw to a close. (2019, p.xxvii)

Within Slash/Back, the alien invasion is the catalyst for this maturing. It provides an opportunity for the girls to exercise leadership and responsibility, and in doing so, facilitates a sense of accomplishment. And it also provides the group with an experience where they are able to contribute to the well-being of their community through their hunting knowledge, and as such, transforms their sense of belonging within the community. Maika’s transformation from shame to pride is a reminder to be kind, because  you never know what kind of trials someone has gone through in order to arrive at a place where they claim their Indigenous identity with pride.  

Sunday, July 14, 2024

Take us to your chief and other stories

 

In 2016, Drew Hayden Taylor published a book of his own science fiction short stories, Take us to your chief and other stories. It is a playful book. Taylor says, “I wanted to take traditional science fiction characteristics and filter them through an Aboriginal consciousness,” (p.viii). A prolific author in a number of genres, he says “I’m an old hand at hybridizing,” (p.viii). Regarding the goals of his work, he says “Part of my journey in this life both as a First Nations individual and as a writer is to expand the boundaries of what is considered Native literature. There is more to Indigenous existence than negative social issues and victim narratives,” (p.ix). With respect to why he chose science fiction, he says “some critics might argue our literary perspective is a little too predictable – of a certain limited perspective. For example, a lot of Indigenous novels and plays tend to walk a narrow path specifically restricted to stories of bygone days. Or angry/dysfunctional aspects of contemporary First Nations life. Or the hangover problems resulting from centuries of colonization. All worthwhile and necessary reflections of Aboriginal life for sure. But I wonder why it can’t be more?” (p.ix). 

One of the short stories, “Lost in Space”, begins with the protagonist, Mitchell, using oxygen deprivation to put himself in an altered state (2016, p.47). 

Mitchell had been hovering effortlessly, drifting both in the gravity vacuum of space and, more interestingly, in and out of consciousness. Small tethers from the right shoulder and left pant cuff of his jumpsuit anchored him to opposed bulkheads. This was to make sure he didn’t bump into the walls of the ship and ruin his fun. His mind had no such restrictions and had meandered back and forth between alpha, beta, delta, and all remaining brain-wave frequencies. The small room was dark and the temperature was neutral. A sort of purgatory. Additionally, the oxygen in this hyperbaric chamber had been reduced to the minimum, allowing for a more recreational time alone. In other words, he was mellowing out in the twenty-first century version of an improvised isolation tank. (Taylor, 2016, p.46-47)

He is on a spacecraft mining the asteroid belt, and his only company is the ship’s artificial intelligence, Mac (p.48). Mac informs him that his grandfather has died (p.48). His grandfather was his only Indigenous grandparent and inspired his love of space (p.49). He reflects on a conversation with his grandfather, where his grandfather reflected on the connection between Indigenous identity and the land, and how his grandfather told him, “I can’t help wondering if it’s possible to be a good, proper Native astronaut.” (p.51). Mitchell reflects on the barriers to expressing his Indigenous identity in space, including not being able to burn sage because of fire suppression technology; no dawn to greet; no Four Directions to honour; the complexity of honouring Mother Earth and Father Sky while being “closer to the backside of Mother Mars,” (p.52); and no drumming due to the calibration of technology on the ship (p.53). Mac locates a video of his grandfather drumming, and as Mitchell watches it, he reflects on how his grandfather encouraged him to “represent,” (p.55). “Song after song made him realize that even though he was only one quarter Anishinabe, he could be fairly confident he was the only Anishinabe out here in the asteroid belt, possibly the only one outside of Earth and the three space stations. This was the only drum music for millions and millions of kilometers. This was a responsibility. As his grandfather used to say, he’d better step up and represent, because he was a hell of a long way from home.” (p.55). 

Drew Hayden Taylor’s story is fun. The question that his grandfather poses is an interesting one. Note that his grandfather doesn’t ask if it’s possible to be a Native astronaut, rather, he questions whether it is possible to be a good, proper Native astronaut. The main character reflects on cultural practices that he cannot do in space, the implication here being that being “good” and “proper” are expressed through cultural activities such as smudging and drumming. Ultimately, he decides that he is being a good and proper native by virtue of his commitment to “represent”, and he expresses his identity by celebrating his ancestor.  What this story highlights is the fact that sometimes we are put in positions where there is no one around to affirm our Indigenous identity, and when we are put in those positions, we have to affirm ourselves. 

After reading this story, I did have some questions. What exactly does it mean to represent? What are the unique responsibilities tied to being in a professional context where you are the only Indigenous person? How do you conduct yourself when you have no family present to help you navigate identity? These questions are especially relevant in the university environment, where Indigenous people are under-represented. 

Other stories in the book include the first Native superhero, alien encounters, and a story where petroglyphs are a time travel portal to the past. There was one story about youth suicide that I didn't really like. But other than that one story, I really enjoyed this book.




Saturday, July 13, 2024

Permenant Astonishment by Tomson Highway

 For the first time in years, I am reading a book for the mere joy of reading a book. The book that I chose for this special occassion is Permenant Astonishment by Tomson Highway. 

Here is the description from the publisher's website:

Tomson Highway was born in a snowbank on an island in the sub-Arctic, the eleventh of twelve children in a nomadic, caribou-hunting Cree family. Growing up in a land of ten thousand lakes and islands, Tomson relished being pulled by dogsled beneath a night sky alive with stars, sucking the juices from roasted muskrat tails, and singing country music songs with his impossibly beautiful older sister and her teenaged friends. Surrounded by the love of his family and the vast, mesmerizing landscape they called home, his was in many ways an idyllic far-north childhood. But five of Tomson's siblings died in childhood, and Balazee and Joe Highway, who loved their surviving children profoundly, wanted their two youngest sons, Tomson and Rene, to enjoy opportunities as big as the world. And so when Tomson was six, he was flown south by float plane to attend a residential school. A year later Rene joined him to begin the rest of their education. In 1990 Rene Highway, a world-renowned dancer, died of an AIDS-related illness.

Permanent Astonishment is Tomson's extravagant embrace of his younger brother's final words: "Don't mourn me, be joyful." His memoir offers insights, both hilarious and profound, into the Cree experience of culture, conquest, and survival. 

I'm currently two hours into the twelve hour audiobook and I am really enjoying it. I almost didn't read it because it is a memoir. I went through a phase where I was memoired out, as in, I read too many memoirs and then I became emotionally tired. I think I had mild vicarious trauma from some of the memoirs. So I have been on a memoir reading hiatus for a few years. When I read the book's description, though, I anticipated that this memoir would nourishing. Also, who wouldn'twant to know more about the origin story of Tomson Highway?!? Being two hours into it, I can say that so far it is nourishing. Also, as a longtime Tomson Highway reader, I find his familiar voice comforting. 

I plan to listen to the next ten hours of his book while randomly walking around  at a leisurely pace, doing random chores, and staying cool with my new favourite treat - high protein jello (made with kefir instead of water). Stay cool friends. 



Tuesday, May 28, 2024

Niigaan Sinclair - Love Beyond Body, Space & Time: An Indigenous LGBT Sci-Fi Anthology

 Niigaan Sinclair also wrote a foreword to Love Beyond Body, Space & Time: An Indigenous LGBT Sci-Fi Anthology. He begins with historical non-Indigenous reactions to a two-spirit person from the 1800s (p.12-13). Then he discusses contemporary use of the term “two-spirit” and their roles in historical and contemporary Indigenous communities (p.14-15). He points out that LGBTQ and two-spirit Indigenous individuals experience double oppression – racism and homophobia (p.16). He says “I would add that science has been the predominant foundation for arguments supporting colonial hatred and fear of Indigenous LGBTQ and two-spirit traditions. Arguments based in biased and Darwinian understandings of science, constructing what is ‘normal,’ ‘civilization,’ and ‘order’ formed the basis for Christian ideas of ‘natural law’ and legal principles that legislated and justified hate. These systems perpetuated violence against Indigenous peoples and created cycles that undermined community principles, divided families and clans, and constituted not only ‘cultural genocide’ but actual, physical genocide.” (p.16). He notes that writing (fiction, laws, media) has been used to misrepresent Indigenous LGBTQ and two-spirit identities. He also notes that over the course of three centuries, some Indigenous people have internalized these oppressive narratives. However, “Indigenous two-spirit community members continue to gift us one of the longest and most extensive stories of revolution and agency in North American history. Indigenous two-spirit artists have been using love to overcome hate across time and space – and even beyond it.” (p.17). He says that this collection is “a recognition of Indigenous LGBTQ and two-spirit traditions,” but “none of these stories are solely about history. These narratives are about the future, time-travel and other worlds. They are visions and re-visions of a complete and full Indigenous tomorrow.” (p.17). He notes that this collection takes these tools of oppression – fiction and science – and “re-makes them.” (p.19). The stories “gift us ways of seeing reality beyond that which we have inherited and see science and fiction of what it always should have given us” dreams, hope, and possibilities beyond what we think we see.” (p.17). 

Niigaan Sinclair teaches at the University of Manitoba, is head of the Native Studies Department, and has published both academic and creative writing. According to Wikipedia, he's also the son of TRC Commissioner Murray Sinclair. 

In September of 2020, he published an editorial regarding Indigenous identity fraud. One of the authors in this anthology (Gwen Benaway) had been openly questioned about her Indigenous identity in an open letter signed by five Indigenous authors (Alicia Elliott, Terese Mailhot, Nazbah Tom, Joshua Whitehead, Tyler Pennock). Rather than answering the call, she closed down her Twitter. In his editorial, Sinclair provides personal anecdotes about the prevelance of identity fraud in the public service and problematizes the self-identification process used in the public service. As a solution he states: 

It appears the only route out of this confusion surrounding Indigenous identity is to hand absolute control of Indigenous membership over to Indigenous communities.

Let’s recognize Indigenous decisions and laws when they’re passed after being debated in Indigenous courts and parliaments.

While you’re at it, Indigenous governments need to actually govern, so give their land and resources back, too. All of it.

No? Well at least then let’s fulfil the treaties and recognize Indigenous governments on par with Canadian governments.

I guess identity is tricky after all, but not for Indigenous peoples.

I do think it's interesting that there are a lot of science fiction stories that explore tricky details related to identity and identity fraud. Dale Turner, writing in This is not a peace pipe (2006), said: 

The problem of authenticity, of who can speak for whom in an indigenous intellectual culture, is no doubt a thorny one - but it is our problem to discuss and solve! Determining what we can and cannot talk about goes a long way towards resolving the authenticity problem, but I suspect this problem will never go away. My hopes lie not in my own work (I am only, at best, a guide to intellectual landscapes), but in the intellectual work of future indigenous intellectuals. By showing our young minds that they can participate as intellectual equals in the world without giving up who they are as indigenous peoples, we will empower ourselves to some day return our ways of knowing the world to their rightful place in the landscape of human ideas. (p.117).

Nearly 20 years later, we are the "future intellectuals" that Dale speaks of.  

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Grace Dillon - Love Beyond Body, Space & Time: An Indigenous LGBT Sci-Fi Anthology

 Grace Dillon also wrote a foreword to Love Beyond Body, Space & Time: An Indigenous LGBT Sci-Fi Anthology. She asserts “colonial gender-binaries and sexual regimes” were “imposed by the legacy of nineteenth-century white manifest destinies,” and that Two-Spirit stories are “refashioning ancestral traditions in order to flourish in the post-Native Apocalypse.” (p.9). She says “SF [science fiction] survivance stories are not about survival. SF survivance stories are about persistence, adaptation, and flourishing in the future, in sometimes subtle but always important contrast to the mere survival, or the self-limiting experience of trauma and loss that often surrenders the imagination to creeds of isolation and victimhood, the apprehension of hopelessness, helpless entitlement to an extirpated past. SF survivance stories project near and far futures where Indigenous peoples reclaim sovereignty and self-determination” (p.9-10).

If you would like to know more about Two Spirit perspectives, I recommend checking out Marie Laing's bookUrban Indigenous Youth Reframing Two Spirit. As a researcher, I find it interesting that she begins the book with an explanation of why she chose not to define Two Spirit. 

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Hope Nicholson - Love Beyond Body, Space & Time: An Indigenous LGBT Sci-Fi Anthology (2016).

Hope Nicholson wrote the letter from the editor for Love Beyond Body, Space & Time: An Indigenous LGBT Sci-Fi Anthology (2016). As a non-Indigenous person, she speaks to balancing the tension between her own desire to share stories and Indigenous and LGBT individuals’ right to privacy (p.7). She notes, for example, that there are reasons why Indigenous people restrict certain stories to their community and there are reasons why transgender people “do not discuss aspects of their transition.” (p.7). She says “I selected the genres of speculative fiction, science fiction, and fantasy for this collection as it is my belief that there is a tendency to restrict Indigenous stories to one time, one place, and force culture to be something to be looked at from a distance. I hope that by having stories unburdened by time, place, or space, that it creates connection.” (p.8). She says that all of the authors identify as Indigenous and most of them identify as queer, bisexual, lesbian, transgender, or lesbian (p.8). 

Hope had her own publishing company, Bedside Press. It also published Moonshot: The Indigenous Comics Collection Volume 1. Hope was also the editor of that book. 

In 2018 Tres Dean published an article online about how someone more powerful in the publishing industry sexually abused him at a publishing industry event. In 2019, Hope wrote an article about how she had behaved inappropriately, and announced that she was closing Bedside Press and leaving the industry. Similar to the previous post, when I learned all of this I was again faced with the ethical question around citational politics. And again, instead of choosing to ignore her work entirely, I choose instead to surface the messiness and undertake my own personal reflection about whether or not there is anything baked into her work that is potentially harmful. In terms of the introduction above, I think it's fairly benign. Some people might say "but by promoting her work, you're promoting her, and she stands to gain financially from that." First, I'd be surprised if my post made that much of a difference. Second, I balance that possibility against the fact that in posting her introduction, I'm also promoting the book, including the Indigenous authors of the book. And when I take those two things into consideration, I choose to promote the book. Third, she's already financially penalized herself by closing down the publishing house and leaving the industry. Which is far beyond what most Me Too perpetrators have done, and in removing herself from a situation where she is in a position of power over authors, and by announcing her transgression, perhaps she has created structural changes in her life to safegaurd herself against engaging in similar behaviours in the future. 

Also, just a quick aside. I'm not purposefully seeking out contentious individuals to talk about their transgressions. It just so happens that the topic I'm currently working on involves these folks. Are people engaged in Indigenous science fiction prone to violence? I hope not. I do think it's weird how often it comes up, though. 

Further volumes of Moonshot were published through a different publisher, and the sequel to Love Beyond Body, Space & Time was published by Arsenal. 

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