Angela Watts
For this reflexion paper, I decided to collect some of the indigenous-made items in my apartment. Having moved off the “Rez” as a child, I sometimes struggle to feel a sense of connection to my heritage. In Toronto, over 1300km away from my community, it’s nice to remind myself of the items I have in my possession. What do they mean to me? How do I interact with them on a daily basis?
My mother gifted these to me when I last visited her in Montreal. She bought them off some Innu ladies at a powwow or other event — she doesn’t remember exactly. I have always worn moccasins around the house, especially as the weather gets colder. I keep them by bed and slip them on first thing in the morning on my way to make some coffee and feed my cats. They smell faintly smoky, and are slightly rough to the touch. I don’t really think about them on a day-to-day basis — they are a part of my daily routine, like my socks, sweatpants or underwear. However, upon closer examination, I notice the irregularity of the hide and other small flaws, and I can imagine the hands of the woman who made them, carefully rotating the hide, eyes squinted, lining up beads.
iiyischisinh
moose, caribou hide moccasins
des mocassins en peau d'orignal ou de caribou
Several years ago, my mother spent a month up in Kawawachikamach, a Naskapi community in Northern Quebec bordering Newfoundland. She brought these back as a gift. The hide is smoother than the caribou ones, and dyed dark blue. They have unfortunately seen better days. The soles are dotted with growing holes and the lining is torn in multiple places. I wish I could visit my dear gookum (grandmother). She would always patch up my old moccasins with spare pieces of hide, transforming the soles into a patchwork of mismatched materials.
kaahkiyaahkwaauaschisinh
short sealskin moccasins
des mocassins courts en peau de phoque
Dreamcatcher, Cree My uncle crafted this dreamcatcher that now hangs above my bed. He is a medicine man in my community, one of many in his generation to focus on preserving traditional knowledge and skills. However, when I look at it I can’t help thinking about all the dreamcatcher tattoos I have seen on white people, proudly displayed on shoulders or forearms. I wish sacred indigenous items weren’t treated as aesthetic objects to be used for decoration. I am looking at you, people who wear headdresses to music festivals. puwaamuwin dream un rêve, un songe Bag with be ading, moose-hide, Cree I keep this bag displayed in my room as it is too gorgeous to tuck away into a closet. I have recently been using the beaded flowers as inspiration for my attempts at embroidery. I’m not sure what the bag is meant for— perhaps for carrying supplies in the bush. The yarn used for the straps reminds me of the moose-hide mittens I wore as a child. I stopped wearing them to school in Montreal after a young boy made fun of me, calling them ugly, an experience unfortunately all too familiar to many indigenous children. wiihkweyaau bag un sac, une poche Embroidery pouch, with moose-hide, Cree This adorable pouch was gifted to me by my mother when I was in my early teens. She told me it is traditional to give embroidery supplies to young girls as they enter womanhood. To this day I still keep my embroidery materials inside, multi-coloured threads and needles of varying sizes. After all these years the pouch still smells faintly smoky from the patch of moose-hide. Although I have fallen out of practice over the years, embroidery still has a special place in my heart as a calming, creative activity. masinashtahiikan embroidery de la broderie Special mention to the goose meat in my belly I am far from family here in Toronto so it’s been a while since I had traditional food. I brought this piece of goose meat back from Montreal when I last visited. Although the best goose is cooked over the open fire in a tipi, grease dripping into an aluminum plate carefully placed below, this chunk definitely satisfied my cravings. As I bit into a pellet, I was reminded of how much I prefer hunted meat over farmed meat, maybe with the exception of a slice of pepperoni pizza after a night of partying. Some of my fondest childhood memories are of sitting on my gookum’s couch, watching TV as an animal is butchered on the floor beside me over black garbage bags. However, I can’t help feeling a little ashamed— I don’t even know how to pluck a goose, or set a trap. They are definitely skills I would like to learn someday. nisk Canada goose, Branta canadensis une bernache du Canada, Branta canadensis Work Cited Translations taken from the East Cree Dictionary, Southern coastal “dialect” http://dictionary.eastcree.org/words |
Here is the reflection:Niamajise, Niwaabam, - Jordan M. Burns
Nigiinibaa → Nigiiamajise → Nigiiwiisin → Nigiimaajaa → Nigiianokii → Nigiigiiwe → Nigiibagamise → Nigiibiindige → Nigiiwiisin → Ninibaa
Ninibaa - I am sleeping.
Whispered stories, watered Earth, the tone of madness, the drone of classes.
Ninibaa - I am sleeping.
Abstraction. Distraction. The loss of the past.
Opening the door. Destruction. Seeming aghast.
Ni-gii-noojigo-nibaa - I was foolishly sleeping.
An abstraction of reality and language. Who am I? Who? AWENEN?
A W E N E N ?
A W E N E N ?
A W E N E N ?
How do you destroy a language? You take away its inner-workings. You take away the ‘who’ who speaks it.
How do we save what’s left in time? When do we do it? When? Aanapii? AANAPIISH?
A A N A P I I S H ?
A A N A P I I S H ?
A A N A P I I S H ?
How do you go about fulfilling your responsibilities when you feel there is no time? You go. You do your best.
An empty feeling. Tell me where is this happening? Where? Aandi? AANIINDI?
A A N I I N D I ?
A A N I I N D I ?
A A N I I N D I ?
Where am I to go when the place that holds my history is missing? Continue moving, explore new routes, and passageways for myself and my heritage.
I feel a strong pull towards the verbs of travel. Maajaa, bishaa, bagamise, biindige, giiwe. This ever-wondering sense of wandering leaves me wishing wanderlust amongst the Earth, wind, and whispered words. Traveling. Leaving my home to explore the gifts that nature has given. Ni-nepiji-mikoshkadendam that ni-noojigo-nibaa. I am permanently worried that I am foolishly sleeping because there is so much information to know/discover/consider and getting through it all seems overwhelming. Nidaatagaadendam. Ni-nepiji-daatagaadendam. Always overwhelmed by the task at hand because the task has seemed unattainable for generations.
Seeing the animals Anonymous to me
“Longwalk journey ahead” Keep your eyes up, your nose down, your thoughts big.
The path behind Lost I’m losing Lost...
The frozen past mm-oo-vv-ii-nn-gg HELP!
Crystalized future CRACK CLOUDY
This moment in time
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
Still, years after the fact, my father refers to himself as white. He’s one of the “good Indians”. He’s “good” because they successfully tore him from his own people, his land, his story. Longheld hate seems to stand longer than longheld goodness in the modern-day. The inability to properly cope with negative feelings of abandonment and betrayal keeps the “good Indian” in-line with the righ- white society. Yet, they don’t see…
The colours that we wave high when we laugh.
The tears of joy we shed when we dance.
The connections to the world that we have developed despite the circumstances.
The idea of hope stands tall. For once gaawin, nidaatagaadendamsiin, nimaamagaadendam. I am amazed at all of the possibilities that have opened since I have started learning Anishinaabemowin. Communicating, even only one word - or small statements at a time, brings a bit of joy to my life that wasn’t there before. Words and statements like eha, gaawin, nishin, aniish na giin, aniin, and words for how I’m feeling have started to replace their English counterparts and for once I don’t feel so lost.
I don’t feel as helpless when I feel like I have access to a language that can help me communicate important thoughts and ideas that were wandering, unnamed before.
I am starting to see you. Ni-maaji-waabam giin.
Guiding me as I begin to take on my inheritance and responsibilities.
Ni-kichi-anokiimin, and niashwii to do the big work too.
Maya Chacaby
LIN/SOC/CDS 2636 Anishinaabemowin 1
(Reflection #2)
November 2, 2020
Reconnecting with your Culture
This class has recently made me want to take a step back and learn more about where I am from. I was born in Havana, Cuba and my parents and 1 came to Canada in 2003 when I was 3 years old. I care a lot where I’m from and I always ask my family questions about Cuba and their life there. Recently I have been questioning my beliefs, I’ve known for a long time now that I don’t want to belong to a religious community and I’m not sure I believe in a higher being, but I’ve always been curious about all religions and much different ideology’s. I love watching a documentary about religious groups and putting my beliefs into a different perspective. Recently I’ve been wanting to learn more about some practices of spirituality in Latin America like Santeria and broderie. Santeria is an African diasporic religion that developed in Cuba, it has both forms of the traditional Yoruba religion of West Africa and Catholicism, it is also of a clash of different identities like indentured Chinese, enslaved Yoruba, and colonial Catholics. I think orishas is way more complex than I will ever understand, but seeing my mother and grandmother keeping a few traditions alive is beautiful.
For as long as I remember my grandma has always seen me as an intuitive person, and she has always told me to try and do things to try and open more channels up. I have always been a very skeptical person and to be honest, I still am, but I do think many practices of Santeria do give me a sense of relief, hope and make me feel more balanced and understanding. I don’t see the “vengeful” side of Santeria as I have never been exposed to people I know doing so, but I have been exposed to warding off bad energy (that could be bad people, a bad feeling, bad experience). I’ve mainly been exposed to ‘ashe’, which is a life force that instigates change, and humans who must rediscover their destines, given to them before coming to earth but forgotten once born. This brings me back to my grandmother always calling me intuitive, it gives me a sense of who I want to be as a person and maybe even who I’m supposed to be, maybe helping people navigate different situations, I could be completely wrong but I love the idea of involving myself more into my culture while also finding answers to who I am or who I want to be. I also want to again recognize is very complex and I am only hitting the surface level of what my grandmother learned from her afro Cuban father, as well as many of the origins of Santeria have been lost or adapted in the new life of colonies. I recognize the catholic influence in the way my grandma is involved with Santeria, but it also a very different exposure than when I went to catholic school. Especially because rituals much like prayers are more secretive in Santeria. I also want to recognize afro Cubans who were forced to hide their religion and now are extremely prideful with their identity. I find it very beautiful that in this class people feel more welcome to explore their identities and venture out from it and learn about other beautiful ways to embrace life. I’m extremely happy to see indigenous people finally able to reclaim their culture and I hope that being in this class shows the solidarity I have for your fight in regaining your identity.
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Reflection #2
After almost two months of this course, I have learned so much about the culture and language of Anishinaabemowin. My favourite aspect of this course is the execution. I really enjoy the interactive and oral style of teaching incorporated, which reflects the traditions and worldview of the Anishinaabe regarding education. This differs from what many of us are familiar with in academics, however I believe we should begin to normalize and implement these teaching methods into curriculum. If I am being transparent, there has been highs and lows in terms of grasping the structure and execution of speaking the language. But this is what I love about linguistics, I find it soothing and rewarding when formulating words and sentences. Throughout my reflection I am going to discuss settler colonialism as well as the power of language and culture and make connections to literature and art.
Recently, I read an amazing and acclaimed novel called “The Marrow Thieves”, written by a Métis author named Cherie Dimaline. This is a dystopian story set in a post-modern world nearly destroyed by climate change and global warming. The Indigenous peoples of Canada are being hunted for their bone marrow, which possess their dreams; a key to recovering the populations lost ability to dream. The novel follows a young Métis kid named Frenchie (who lost most of his family to the recruiters), and his group of fellow Indigenous peoples that are also on the run. Miig, the leader of the group, tells the group Story, the narrative of events that lead to the current state of the world. After the closing of residential schools, governments began fighting over water and stealing from Anishinaabe lands. The north began to melt due to global warming and natural disasters killed millions, and many lost the ability to dream. Miig also shares that there are new residential schools being put in place to harvest bone marrow, which results in death. The story follows the group’s journey to avoid capture, with moments of tragedy, loss, and failure but in the end they stand successful. They defeat the marrow thieves through destruction of the residential school and harvesting machines. Minerva, a Cree elder, is captured by the thieves and begins to sing when hooked up to the machines. They malfunction and the building burns down. The group, along with new members, piece together all they know about their language and culture and create a youth council to pass on the knowledge.
To me, this book really symbolizes our current state of the world, and the present lasting effects of ongoing settler colonialism. Even after the horrific genocide endured by Indigenous peoples, settlers continue to take and steal from them. Whether this be the land of the Wet’suwet’en nation, the fishing rights and equipment of the Mi’kmaq peoples, the culture of several Indigenous nations globally, etc. Settler colonialism is not a single event, it’s an ongoing plague on Indigenous peoples and we see this through our institutions, governments, the appropriation on and profit made from stolen culture, and the horrific oppression of indigenous peoples paired with the ignorance and lack of action towards their issues. This is all symbolized by the hunting of Indigenous bone marrow in the book. Furthermore, we see how healing and powerful culture and language can be throughout the novel. There are many instances where the group share their culture and stories in order to stay hopeful and keep moving, and additionally it is what saved them in the end. The council created at the end relates to the many indigenous peoples globally who are working so hard to piece together the cultures and languages that were ripped away from them. This is one aspect I truly admire about this course; it allows for the education on an Indigenous language and culture which in turn keeps it alive and thriving. Overall this was an amazing read and relates to several aspects of this course, Anishinaabe culture, and settler colonialism.
Finally, I wanted to share an art piece I own done by a Cree artist named Betty Albert titled “humility”. I interpret this piece as beautifully conveying the power of language and culture. The woman on the right is dressed in yellow, which to me represents the enlightenment and peace that culture and language gives an individual. The woman on the left is dressed in blue, which could represent depression, emptiness, and deprivation. The woman on the right is depicted holding out an object to the woman on the left, which could represent the humble sharing of culture and language.
Reflection 02
The past couple of weeks learning Ojibway made me reflect on how languages are connected to culture. Language has a deep root to cultural values and history. Yes, culture can be preserved in ways other than through language, however, I see why Ojibway is an obvious language to keep alive, to hold on to. This language is a concrete evidence of the uniqueness of Anishinaabe. Keeping any language alive allows the culture to grow more, allows the newer generation to relate and connect with the older generation and even ancestors. I am not a indigenous person however, I relate deeply on keeping culture alive. So many privileged, non-minorities do not understand the importance to us minorities to keep our culture and language alive. So many white men do not understand the value language has to different cultures, it’s how we connect with our families, our ancestors and culture.
I have always been into learning different languages and cultures. I genuinely think Ojibway is such an endearing and enchanting language. Throughout my language learning journey, I only learned Asian and European languages. Last year in morphology, our class briefly covered polysynthetic languages. I find it quite wonderful that you build an entire sentence in one word. A morpheme is the smallest unit of meaning and its fascinating how something so small can build into something with so much meaning. From my understanding, Ojibway is such a unique language compared to English. English is just a Germanic language, with many borrowed words. English is so confusing and is so hard to learn as a second language with all the weird spelling pronunciation changes.
I think it is absolutely vile and disgusting that the colonizers that took this land from the rightful forced and tripped the indigenous from their language. The white men took children away from their families to in doctrine them, they knew if they forced the indigenous to lose their language, they would lose their culture and be forced to pick up western culture instead of their native culture. It boils my blood to know that so many generations did not have the opportunity to connect as well with other generations. Its been years since the residential “genocide” camps but we still feel the affects today. I don’t understand how we have a liberal government that isn’t doing anything to help those who needs actual help, instead they are still building shit that harms communities such as pipelines that cut right into indigenous communities. I think this is just a modern way of them trying to cause harm again.
One of the strongest and beautiful ways to show resistance to the white men and colonialism is to keep such a lovely language alive. The people in power want to get rid of the different cultures so they continue to rule over us and one way they do that is linguicide. Teaching languages in school will help save the language, will educate people on the culture and make people more aware of the issues in politics regarding the oppressed.
This poem I have written is a reflection of how some of the people of Anishinaabemowin have slightly lost themselves due to western civilization. They have lost who they once were and now they are unable to reconnect with that very significant part of who they are as an individual. " From the day I met, Myself in the mirror, That's when it all SHATTERED." is a line that means now when they look upon themselves facing a mirror they have no idea who they are anymore.
Power of Story by Emily
CDNS 2636
Professor Maya Chacaby
November 2, 2020
Reflection #2
Linguicide – the “death of language”. Its impacts, as we have explored in this class, are devastating and perpetually disparaging to those impacted. An indigenous language falls out of existence every two weeks and is forever forgotten.
Languages are one of the most complex and meaningful structures that humans have ever created. Language allows us to express emotion and reaction, to define our perceptions of the world around us, to communicate and create poetry and song, to explore and engage with others in a way that reflects our ways of knowing. It is an innate part of who we all are and how we navigate our lives.
Linguicide – a “silent genocide”. It is a process by which the fluency of a language slowly disappears until it has vanished into oblivion. Genocide denotes intent. An intent to destroy. An intent on the part of colonial forces to marginalize indigenous peoples and subordinate their languages as a way to destroy them. The forceful removal Indigenous children from their communities to residential schools, enshrined linguistic and cultural genocide and resulted in adverse repercussions for Indigenous peoples all across Turtle Island.
As a language is lost, so too is the knowledge contained within it. Given the unique ecological diversity of Indigenous inhabitance across the world, their languages hold knowledge of the earth and environment unknown to Western understanding. With the loss of this knowledge, comes the loss of tradition and understanding. As we have discussed in class, based upon the personal accounts of Indigenous peoples, the devastations are far more than an inability to communicate. It is an inability to interact with traditional ways of knowing and of living that make up that person’s cultural identity. As such, the identity and relations within their community are increasingly fragmented.
Linguicide – Language revitalization. We all must recognize and fight against linguicide, to reconcile and revitalize the language loss that still pervades today. I feel that in order to truly understand the impacts of linguicide and how language loss has impacted Indigenous people, we must put faces to the names and the stories. As such, I sought first-hand accounts from Indigenous people who have experienced linguicide and are actively seeking to revitalize their traditional languages and cultural histories. They are replacing the malicious intent of genocide toward languages with the intent to preserve language, as a means to preserve their people and their diverse heritage.
I have collected two short testimonies of individuals from Indigenous communities on Turtle Island to further understand their perspectives on language learning and their endeavours to revitalize language in their communities.
To wake up the Nakota language | Nakón-wi̧cííé oĝųĝa
Link: https://www.facebook.com/watch/?v=10156020530333952
The first account is that of Arman McArthur, one of the last fluent Nakota speakers in Pheasant Rump First Nation, Treaty 4 territory, in southern Saskatchewan. He explains the significance and sacredness of language and culture for his people - “when you don’t know your language or your culture, you don’t know who you are”. All those who knew the Lakota language have passed on into the sky, and now he is alone. He has no one to talk to.
In an effort to reconstruct the language base in his community, he began teaching them the language of their ancestors. One can see the life that is brought back into the community through his teachings. It felt as though these teachings were something they all longed for and it was evident that there was a reconnection through the language. He concludes that “we have to get [the language] back so that everybody will have it.” He desires to bring ancestral wisdom back into his community, and to revitalize language and culture for his community and future generations. This reflects many of the endeavours of various Indigenous peoples across Turtle Island to restore their cultural ways of life through language revitalisation and resurgence.
Revitalizing the Wolastoqey Language
Link: https://www.cbc.ca/originalvoices/language/wolastoqey/
In this second account, Logan Perley, a young member of the Wolastoqey nation in New Brunswick addresses the need for language revitalization in his community, especially among the younger generation. With below 60 speakers of the language, it seems inevitable that the language will vanish. This exposé addresses the issue of linguistic fluency vs. linguistic knowledge and that Indigenous languages perish so easily due to deficient emphasis on obtaining fluency. The younger generation of Wolastoqey people are identifying their detachment from the language and seeking support from elders and community leaders to revive the language of their people.
Something that struck me about this piece was the interconnectedness of language, land and water. Wolastoq – the “beautiful and bountiful river” – defines the Wolastoq people and effectively their responsibilities on Turtle Island. It relates to the notion of “all my relations” – perceptible and animated relationships to land, to our creatural relatives, and to one another. Further, the anglicization of traditional territories, such as the Wolastoq river, is perceived as an assault on the land and subsequently, the language. The Wolastoq people identify a powerful relation between language, land and cultural identity.
For them, and many other Indigenous nations across Turtle Island, the language defines their entire identity, and without language there is so little to hold on to. It destabilizes nations and their ability to connect with ancestral ways of life. This disconnect is what linguicide stems from, and the efforts of these Indigenous people and communities seeks to counteract and revitalize their communities and ways of life through rediscovering language.
Reflection #2
It’s November now and it has been about 3 months of school. So far this year has been
especially challenging for me because personally I don’t retain a lot while online learning. There are so many tabs open and the Internet crashes from time to time. Additionally, I’m at home and everything around me is a distraction! Anyways, how is this all relevant to my reflection you may ask? I just wanted to say that in these three short months I have learned more about Anishinaabe culture than throughout my entire schooling “career” which is saying a lot because again, as I said, I do not retain much from online schooling. I absolutely love when we have story time in class (I sound like a kindergartener haha). I find it so lovely and peaceful learning through stories. During class I always look forward to hearing a story about Nanaboozhoo, I find them so sweet and it makes me wonder how many generations have heard all of these incredible stories. The two reasons why I really enjoy story time is because they teach me a life lesson that is actually useful in life and the stories remind me of my grandmother. When I was little my grandmother would always tell me old Serbian stories that even her grandmother told her when she was little (and her grandmother’s grandmother!). When I was younger I thought of them as a bedtime ritual and wouldn’t think about the stories too much in depth, but now when I think about the stories I am so grateful for them and my grandma. Like isn’t it crazy of how many generations those stories have gone through? My grandmother only knows of the stories originating from the early 19th century but who knows when and who started telling these wonderful stories.
I’m glad we are being taught these stories, so that we could help keep them alive and spread them with love. Over the weekend, I actually went on a hunt for Nanaboozhoo stories and was lucky to find at least one online. The one I read was called The Winter Story: Nanaboozhoo and the First Winter Giveaway (told by Dr.Martin Reinhardt Ojibwe Professor at Northern Michigan University). It’s about how Nanaboozhoo went to go check on the winter animals and they were complaining how there was not enough food for the winter. After he visited every group of animals, all of them said that they were taking from one another because of the food shortages in order to survive. I won’t tell the full story here but it ends with Nanaboozhoo and all of the forest animals working together so that everyone has enough food to survive throughout the winter. I think this story is very important and necessary in everyone’s life, really. Because us, humans, need to work together more and help each other out because we are all here trying to do the same things: survive and thrive. So why not survive and thrive together?! Here is the link to the story if you wish to read it: https://www.dl-online.com/lifestyle/family/4826829-Winter-story-Nanaboozhoo-and-the- First-Newebiboon-Migwewin-Winter-Giveaway
Going back to language... So far we have been introduced to many verbs and conjugating as well. Personally, I find the conjugating aspect wayyyy easier than remembering the verbs. Right now, I think I feel pretty confident with my conjugating. For the verbs, the only thing that seems to help me understand what means what is through our break out room activities and repetitions. This all might be difficult for me as well because I speak another four languages so I’m mixing them all up haha!
Some great news that I can share with you is that I have inspired two people to start learning Ojibwe. My sister and her friend started reading my notes and they actually downloaded an app that teaches you vocabulary (hopefully it’s all accurate?). I’m hoping that together we can inspire more and more people to start learning Ojibwe, to preserve and pass on this beautiful language and culture.
Niombendam <3
Reflection Blog 2
So I thought about what kind of topic I wanted to explore in this reflection, but I’m finding it to be a bit difficult to organize my thoughts. I know that one of the things that’s been poking at my brain recently is how horrible it feels to not feel ok, but to not have a proper place to express that. It’s always been in my mind that everyone deserves a safe place and someone that will listen to and understand them, but so many people don’t have that, or even access to reach out for help. It feels so unfair and it makes my eyes prickle when people could have been helped but weren’t. The scenario is even worse when there is something obviously wrong, but no one does anything, when you feel like you’re screaming at a wall at the injustice of a situation. That’s how I felt when we were learning about linguicide, and how it’s still such a problem in how this situation is being handled. We talked about how it’s proven that Aboriginal youth learning their native language led to a decreased suicide rate, which is amazing and I’m so happy that they’re going back to their roots, healing trauma that’s lasted generations and hopefully are happier. I just wished that it never came to the point where anyone felt that they were in a situation that they couldn’t face any longer, that they didn’t feel so sad or so lonely, that there was ever a suicide rate to begin with. Talking about this really reminded me of a time that I felt the same, and wrote this:
Not a trace of a whisper
Nor even a faint rustle
But the silence screams
It threatens to swallow you
It seeps into your dreams
A voice calls out
To fill the void
It’s your own shout
Just so there’s sound
But no one answers
I don’t like the silence
It makes my thoughts louder
And I’m scared to be alone with my thoughts
I can’t help but think that we’re not set up to learn things in order to grow together. I think that was the first thing that I noticed about this class as well. I’d never had a class where there wasn’t really required readings or a lot of assignments, but a class that was centered around learning together, in the present moment, as an experience. At first, because it was so unfamiliar, it was kind of “are you sure?” and “how is this going to work exactly?”, but I feel like I’m learning in a way that makes me feel lighter (?) if that makes sense. I don’t feel as much pressure and it feels so much more like a community. Going into other classes kind of brings out sighs now because I feel like a number that’s getting numbers based on what I’ve done. Sure, I retain a few things from regular classes, but the sense of togetherness is completely nonexistent. This is one of the things we learned in a class about culture; about individualistic vs collectivist societies. I feel like this is just another contributing factor that is making it so hard for Aboriginal youth to be happy and flourish. They are expected to live in a society that is so focused on individual performance when they are part of a people that value community and living in harmony with others and the environment around them. This is why it’s so important that they are able to connect back using their language, as we’ve learned in this class.
We are approaching the end of this class and what I’ve learned and will continue to learn is the value of my history and teachings. Going to class every Monday evening and getting the opportunity to listen to beautiful Anishinaabe stories and lessons have made me realize that I need to better understand my history and re learn my teachings. One item that helped me remind myself of who I am is the medicine bundle that was shown in class. Medicine bundles are used to participate in ceremonies and contain sacred items like to tobacco, sage, sweet grass and cedar. Sage is used to smudge (cleanse) before a ceremony, similarly like Mayan people who use sage and copal. Being introduced to that reminded me how I used to participate in many Mayan ceremonies here in Canada and in Guatemala. These ceremonies hold so much value and power to my people and most definitely the Indigenous people here. I stopped participating and practicing three years ago because of the amount of emotional and mental stress I was in due to University. I had completely disconnected from my traditional teachings and absolutely felt no point in it. It was only until this summer I started to slowly re learn again, this class helped push me even more since I realized I do not want to lose my history and myself.
This class also taught me how powerful language is, language to Indigenous people is not just words that are said they hold value and are very distinctive. Language is not just how we talk to people it is how we identify, how we create community. It’s a great privilege to be able to learn this language and its history because not so long ago it was in the process of being erased. It once again reminds me that I need to relearn my language (Pop’ti). My grandfather is my only link to my Indigenous language, and I want to continue to learn from him so that I can pass that down to my own family one day.
The pictures I decided to include are related to my Indigenous History. The first picture on the left is on the rooftop of my family’s home in Guatemala. It was from my first trip in 2015 where I participated in my naming ceremony. It was a very special moment for me, where I got to participate in a sunrise ceremony with my family. The second picture is of our Mayan calendar that my grandfather built a couple of weeks ago. I included this because it reflects our traditional teachings that come with it, that my grandfather has taught to me in the last couple of months.
I will base my second reflection on a little bit of a lighter note than my last one. Like life, both good and bad parts are necessary for creating memorable experiences, learning from mistakes, teaching and soaking in essential life lessons. Maya started the LIN2636 course with a beautiful and rich story about Nanaboozhoo. This story stuck with me, not only because of the proper lesson and message it conveyed but because of the idea of stories in their entirety. What are stories? We tell little stories every day, whether it be to ourselves or our family. Most of us can think of a story that stuck with them and continues to be passed down from generation to generation. Anthropologists claim that storytelling is central to human existence. It is something every culture has in common with each other. Most importantly, the act of storytelling involves a symbiotic exchange between the teller and the listener. We may use stories to make sense of our world and convey a meaningful lesson that we want to share and educate others on.
One of my favourite parts of this course is hearing Anishnaabe stories that are incredibly rich in culture and depth. The tale of Nanaboozhoo sparked an interest in me to google some other Anishnaabe stories. The first one which came up for me was the Anishnaabe creation story. Reading the story, the beginning was enough for me to be captivated. I am in awe at the amount of respect Indigenous people have for the earth and land in general. I want to bring your attention to a specific line from the Anishnaabe creation story, which stuck with me, "She preceded man, and her name is Mother Earth because all living things live from her gifts. […] All parts of life lived in harmony with each other on Mother Earth." Isn't it lovely? I immediately noted the harmonious energy this story conveyed. Unified in the sense of being one with the earth and genuinely acknowledging its gifts to us and riches.
I think it is beautiful that indigenous people view themselves and nature as part of an extended ecological family that shares ancestry and origins. This Anishnaabe Creation Story and the way of life of the Anishnaabe people set an example to the rest of us. Once again, touching briefly upon the relationship between us and nature and its beauty, I'd like to share an experience. Last summer, I had the chance to visit my immediate family in Poland. My uncle (being in love with the mountains) took my mom and me on a road trip to a gorgeous town, Szklarska Poręba, located in Poland's southwestern region. I love hiking, and so he took me through his favourite trails. Once we've reached the top, I was in awe of the magnificence of nature and creation in front of me. I felt a sort of tranquillity and serenity and could not comprehend how incredibly beautiful the world is. This is where I personally find the strongest attachment to the world (pictures attached for your reference).
Going back to the story aspect of my reflection, I immediately connected my thoughts to a book I recently read for another course of mine. The book titled Indian Horse written by Richard Wagamese, serves as an example of how stories and traditions passed down by ancestors may have a great impact on our lives. If you have not read the book, it delivers a real story of a 6-year-old Ojibwe boy who is torn from his family and forced into a residential school here he faces brutal punishment for the tiniest transgressions. His grandmother, acted as his only reliable connection to the Anishnabeg culture. Saul saw his grandmother as his guide and support. She worked hard to keep Saul and Benjamin from the outside world, mainly the Zhaunagush. She familiarized Saul with a frightful word, "the school," in an attempt to protect Saul from this place. Saul viewed his grandmother as a teacher as they would grow closer together through stories about the old days, Ojibway songs and medicine. She told him the story of the land's discovery and significance to the Anishinabek. Furthermore, Naomi's words contained valuable lessons regarding life as an Indigenous person. Thanks to Naomi, Saul created a lifeline to his past and set his roots deeper in his heritage.
P.S. I hope you enjoy these beautiful pictures I took of the mountains that I mention in my reflection
Ronan's reflection
A Love Letter to You
Dear Earth,
This is a love letter to you.
You, who gave us land to live on, food to eat and a safe place to sleep. You take care of us because you have never been known to be selfish. You give and give and give some more. More than you can and ask nothing in return. Your oceans are deep, and your mountains are steep. The grass is warm, and the skies are endless. I can talk about your strength and resilience because in every moment of my life, you surprise me. You surprise me in ways that remind me to have patience and faith. I love you. For in moments of despair or loss of hope caused by humanity, you remain humble and that humbles me.
Humans are picking at you in all ways. Drilling holes, tearing the ground apart and corrupting ecosystems… just to take from you. The miners do not understand the price they are paying. Their mental health crumbles the deeper they dig. No medicine will treat them. They do not understand what is wrong with them, but you and I know. The medicine for their sickness lies within you. Life is a mirror. Everything we say or do to others is always reflected back to us in some shape or form. They are feeling sick because they’re hurting you. The very dirt that holds us up, they break it apart. In search for what? Everything that is gold is unchanged, right in front of our eyes, if we only cared to look.
You need our protection and our unconditional love because you deserve it. You deserve kindness and loyalty. You take care of us; we take care of you. That is the deal. The deal we always forget as we get lost in our own temptations and our own greed. It all starts with one person’s change of heart. Hurting you is the same as hurting ourselves, because to simplify it, humans are nature themselves. We are the soil on the ground, and the clouds in the sky. We have depth as deep as the sea, and feel anger, as do the trees. We cry when it rains and smile when it shines. We know true pain as our Earth does, so why do we hurt her? Why do we hurt ourselves?
I want to see the world change and it all begins inside. What is inside our hearts? Can we show more compassion and more respect for our home? Is this the best humankind can be or can we do better? Humankind. We need to be both. The miners experiencing mental health problems need to take a step back. This love letter to you also serves as a promise from me that I will do my best to play my part in cherishing your resources and not taking them for granted. If life is a mirror, all good things we do will be returned to us in blessings.
Love,
My Heart
When I was thinking about what I wanted to write for my reflection, something Maya said earlier in the semester came to mind. She talked about the miners who were experiencing mental health issues and how this could be due to the fact that they are harming the land. How can we expect to take care of others when we cannot even take care of our Earth? After a couple of classes with Maya, I understood how important nature is to Indigenous communities and how much they care and respect the land they are on. It is important that everyone steps up and thinks about their actions. People need to take initiative to create a better world and future for generations to come.
Description
I wanted to show how humanity has become greedy and selfish to the point of forgetting basic morals, traditions and respect. I decided to portray how the modern world covers up the beauty of the five moons of winter and its story. Inspired by the story of the moose, the beaver and the frog
Art by Sydney Manton
These past few weeks has been an eye opener for me. I have learned so much about the Anishinaabe language, culture, and beliefs. I came into this class having a limited awareness and knowledge about indigenous communities even though I have been in Canada for a decade. This process of self-reflection has allowed me to examine my personal beliefs, helped me in developing my self-awareness and has increased my personal knowledge and understanding of the issues surrounding indigenous people and their communities. Throughout the class, there are several key components that have stood out for me personally.
Healing Lodge
I had the privilege of participating in an indigenous ceremony a couple years ago on campus in Saskatchewan. A close friend of mine, an indigenous lady by the name of Angela invited me to this ceremony. It was a smudging ceremony. Pow wow. Although she did explain in detail at the time what the ceremony was all
about, what I remember very vividly to this day is the impact it made on me. I entered a dome shaped circular hut and there was an elder who was dressed in a traditional costume. Incense was lighted and he began chanting, drumming, and singing. There were about 25 people sitting in a circle, being respectful and very quiet. I took it all in. I experienced something very different that day, I have come to believe that in the process of it all, there was this energy moving within
my body. I felt a shift in the energy state within me. My mind, my heart and my spirit felt moved and my thought processes became clearer that day. I would love to participate in the ceremony again.
Story telling is such a powerful teaching technique and oral tradition. It is a way of learning about history and the life lessons of people who lived before us. It functions to build social relationships and connect people. It gives us a cultural identity and meaning. It is always a treat and a privilege to hear a traditional Anishinaabe story. Whenever I hear a story, it spurs my imagination and I find myself coming back again and again to analyze the narratives and the numerous hidden meanings behind it. I love the various stories Ms. Chacaby tells during lessons, of nanabozho and others. I especially enjoyed the stories about nanabozho, the trickster and cultural hero in Anishinaabe belief who was sent to teach important lessons. I have learnt much from these stories. Even more so, for this very reason, I feel that it is important especially for children to know their native language to be able to connect to this beautiful storyland world around them. It gives them identity and meaning in their lives.
The medicinal bundle concept discussed in class represents one of the various healing aspects that it brings to indigenous communities. The medicinal bundle is all powerful and carries with it meanings and the ways of understanding and doing things in the world. It is believed to protect or give spiritual powers to its owner. It is sacred. All the contents in the bundle relate to you. The bundle may consist of medicine, pipes, rock, staff, rattle, and various other items used for in ceremonies and your spiritual journey in life. There is a strong identity rooted in the bundle which would help us and even though I am not of indigenous origin, I would like to explore it if I am given the opportunity and embrace it in my life. The bundle reminds me of the beauty of creation and of spirituality.
I feel that much of the learning done in this course was meaningful to me in many ways, more than one. It is unlike the other subjects I had taken where rote memorization, regurgitation
and herculean effort was made to attain a certain grade. I think that in time, when I look back, I am not going to remember all the contents of forced memorizations as time passes. I feel that true learning occurs when the subject is practical and can be applied to my everyday life and it is of interest to me.
Lastly, I would like to end with a note saying that although colonization created a fragmentary worldview of the aboriginal people, and attempted to destroy them, it was unsuccessful. Here we are, you and me – reviving the language, creating it, taking it apart and examining it from every angle and piecing it back together again. What further evidence do we need than to say that it has stood the test of time? It is “alive and breathing”.
Glendon College, York University 02 November 2020
Reflection Blog #2
During the beginning of the course, we focused on Indigenous worldviews, in addition to
the importance of language and beautiful Indigenous perspectives regarding life. I found our discussions surrounding the importance of friendship and mutual respect so beautiful and such an important part of living together in harmony. With the dominance of the Western world, which is responsible for the destruction of Indigenous languages, in addition to the fading of Indigenous culture, I find this to be very disrespectful and I feel very guilty for the hardships that Indigenous peoples have had to face in the past and to the present.
I often think about the importance of language and how our language connects us to our elders, our histories and our everyday experiences. Language is a medium through which we are able to communicate with others and discuss stories and experiences. I am so saddened that Indigenous languages are declining, in addition to some which have become extinct. This is a real problem, because languages have already been lost. Many indigenous languages are on the verge of extinction, are critically engendered and there is a shrinking of mother tongue speakers. We also know that intergenerational transmission is significantly low. While all of this is taking place, not only are languages are being lost, but individuals lose connections with their language, and thus their stories. Everything we know about the world comes from stories, which is communicated through language: with Indigenous languages declining and put at danger, this presents a serious challenge towards the continuance of Anishinaabe culture. Many youth struggle with their
identities, as they might not have a strong connection to their language. Language is powerful and it is very important in discussing stories about life and how we have come to govern ourselves.
The reason why I chose to focus my reflection blog on language is because I have really enjoyed learning the Anishinaabemowin language over the last several weeks. The language is so beautiful and I have come to realize its beauty over the last few weeks. The Anishinaabe language is important in connecting people’s gifts to spirit, which relates directly to fulfilling your inheritance.
One experience in this class which has really impacted my understanding on learning and on everyday life is when we discussed Bimaatis (she/he) and Bimaatan (it). When we were given the examples of different living creatures and objects, such as fish, trees, car, money, spoons and knives, we had to determine whether they were bimaatis or bimaatan. When I initially completed the activity, I used my own experience and logic in order to decipher where they belong. However, after getting some of them completely wrong and not understanding why, I realized that we have become so brainwashed with a particular way of thinking that has clouded our ability to see the world in a different light. This activity made me realize that the way I think has been informed by the dominance of Western education, but I know that it is not too late and change is still possible. I often think about how much better our education system would be if we constructed it along Anishinaabe ways of learning, being and doing.
Through this language exercise, what I learned it that I was applying my own life experiences; I was not initially seeing it through an Anishinaabe lens. However, what I took away from it was that everything is created in relation to something else, which is rooted from old stories. For example, spoons are bimaatis and knives are bimaatan. This is very interesting to me and I am eager to hear more stories to better understand an Anishinaabe way of thinking, being and doing.
Focusing on language is very important to me because I have had the chance to learn the language in this class, which is an experience that I will always remember and appreciate.
I have made this tree representation of my favourite verbs that I have learned in this class. The root of the tree contains a focus on culture and language, as these are central components of the Anishinaabe culture and the root and strength. Nature is important and that is why I have chosen to represent this picture of words in the shape of a tree, because there are many teachings surrounding the tree of life and what we can learn from it.
Emma Litschko
Learning another Indigenous language has caused me to reflect on my understanding of my own Indigenous language, Mi’kmaq. When I began learning Mi’kmaq, I never received any real helpful information on why the words are structured certain ways and how the words breakdown into different things like in this class. This class especially learning the syllabics has inspired me to research and learn more about Mi’kmaq Komqwej’wikasikl (or hieroglyphics). When how the dialect of Anishinaabemowin has changed too much and been dominated by Manitoulin speakers, I had wondered if something like that had impacted Mi’kmaq Komqwei’wikasikl. Most of the komqwei’wikasikl that still exist are Catholic or Christian prayers and the teachers of the komqwei’wikasikl are teaching through prayers. Finding this made me very uncomfortable and terrified for the future of komqwei’wikasikl. I laid in bed that night eyes peeled, annoying my partner who was trying to sleep with all my earth shattering questions. Can it be saved? Is it all lost? Will I ever be able to learn it? He rolled over and said, “it will be fine”. But will it? Language sustains us, it provides knowledge, creates relationships, tells us who we are, gives us identity. It is core to our being. Without it, we lose so much and become lost.
I am currently applying to schools to do a Masters degree. For most schools there is a language requirement besides English for my program. For some schools, the requirement is two languages besides English. In my mind I fit this requirement as I can speak French and Mi’kmaq. But in the Eurocentric world of academia, Indigenous languages apparently are not languages. These are the sorts of requirements that turn people off from learning an Indigenous language as it is not “valid” in the types of jobs that are so sought after, so people spend time learning languages deemed more “useful”. So not only am I facing barriers as an Indigenous person trying to write a thesis on Indigenous history and not have it dismissed by old white men but now, I am unable to apply to more prestigious schools because I speak an Indigenous language. I contacted one of the schools and they claimed it is because it is “a dying language”, yet somehow Latin counts. If Indigenous knowledge and language is not going to be counted as valid yet you have specific programs and scholarships for Indigenous students, why even have these programs if you are going to gate keep and hold Indigenous people to these white standards???? I am finding the whole process ridiculous and exhausting and at this point even debating if I should continue applying. I am so done. But this class, learning an Indigenous language in an institution that historically I would not even be able to attend gives me hope. It gives me hope that one day my Indigenous knowledge and language will be seen as valid. It gives me hope that one day, my ancestors will not have to deal with this barrier. And instead of being shamed for knowing their culture and a language way more unique and richer than a European language will view themselves in a positive light and be proud of where they come from. I hope one day, Indigenous people will not feel shamed and belittled in school. I want Indigenous knowledge and language to feel empowering. I want Indigenous people to feel they do not need to exhaust or exploit their knowledge in order to earn a place, a voice, or space in academia. I just want my language to be considered valid. The picture of the komqwei’wikasikl are how I want to feel after this process, melgignat nnu e’pit, a strong Indigenous woman. Wela’lioq
Reflection two: New language
I’m not going to lie, I spent a lot of time pondering what I should write about for this second reflection. I will say it to anyone, that I am probably one of the least creative people and I know this has to do with the fact that in school we are taught to just regurgitate the information given to us and for the most part not have our own input. Whatever the teachers tell you, that is what you are expected to know, nothing more nothing less. No feelings, and no emotions. Laying awake one night in bed, due to all the stress I have been dealing with, the idea of discussing my thoughts and feelings on the learnings of this language and culture came to mind and I’ve decided that I am just going to go with it and see where it takes me.
Firstly, this beautiful language that I never even knew existed is being taught to me in one of the most unique and interesting ways. When signing up for this course I did not think this would be the way I would be taught, its a language course, language courses and profs usually all they do is speak at you and expect you to memorize all the rules. Maya’s class is completely different, this is a new way of learning for me and I am slowly adjusting and realizing that I am able to learn in different ways and that this way of learning is actually way more beneficial to me. In 10 years am I going to remember all the rules to french grammar, probably not (even though I should since I’m going to be a french teacher), but what I will remember is the basic communication skills from the Anishinaabemowin (ojibway) language. I will never forget how to say hello (Aniin), how are you doing? (Aniish na giin?), how to say I am happy (Niminwentam) And most importantly I will never forget the verb for drinking (Minikwe). The only reason I am going to remember how to say these words and use them is because of the way Maya teaches it, she does not expect us to be perfect, she wants us to learn something,
understand it, not regurgitate the information she tells us, cause like she says she already knows all of that she doesn’t need us to tell it to her.
I may not be the most talkative person in class or in real life, I am the type of person to sit back and listen. In the other class I take with Maya (Aboriginal peoples of Canada) we did an activity called “The Sweetgrass Kindness Activity”, now I’m not going to explain it but one phrase that I have been saying to myself since that class is “Sometimes I think/others think that I am overly shy but really I am a good listener”, this is how I feel during this class, I am a quiet person for the most part especially in big groups, in reality I prefer to sit back and listen to what others have to say. Now with that in mind it certainly does not mean I have nothing to say, I just prefer to keep things to myself and only open up when I feel comfortable enough to do so.
Overall the learning of this language and culture has been nothing but beneficial to me and the way I now look at the world. We live in this fucked up society, where we are taught that the only thing in life to strive for is to finish school, get a good paying job, get married and have kids. I am so thankful to be learning this language and culture and cannot wait to see where this journey takes me. I am so grateful to have taken this class and it being taught in this amazing unique way.
I began this course to satisfy an interest in the linguistic structures of polysynthetic indigenous languages that originated a couple decades ago when I was an undergraduate linguistics student. As a fourth-year student, I took a course called Field Methods, which provided students an opportunity to learn how to linguistically analyze a language that was unknown to anyone in the class. Every week a Cree speaker came in and we learned how to elicit data and conduct original linguistic analyses of that data. I was intrigued by the differences between Cree and the languages that I had previously been exposed to, in particular the polysynthetic features of Cree and the relationships between the morpho-syntax and phonology.
As part of field work, linguists will often ask if certain words or sentences are grammatical, as a means of uncovering the linguistic structures and rules. During one of the elicitation sessions, I recall the speaker becoming quite frustrated with our questions, commenting that linguists were constantly trying to change and reshape the language. The remark always stayed with me, as I didn’t understand her perspective. From my view, we were clearly interested in the language and were trying to learn more, but it seemed she regarded our motives with some suspicion.
Many years passed. I left school and then later returned, working always on other languages, but never forgetting my attraction to Cree and other indigenous languages with their amazing ability to create complex words. Although I had hoped to learn one of these languages, living outside of Toronto always meant that I never had an opportunity to take any available classes. When courses went online, I finally had the chance I had long waited for.
Initially, I had hoped that the course would be full of endless inflectional charts, long lists of morphemes, and examples of sounds as they changed in different environments – the stuff of linguists’ dreams! I was disappointed to learn that I would have to wait and be patient. However, as I listened to the history of the people and the cultural importance of the language, I realized that I had perhaps been unaware of a crucial aspect of the course: how the language unifies and permeates the Anishinaabe people, its social importance. Although I often discuss the relationship between a people and their language in my classes and superficially recognized the impact of language endangerment, I realized that I had perhaps never fully appreciated the depth and pain of this, and what it truly means for a group to have their language forcibly taken from them and denied to them.
Finally, the comments of the Cree speaker from so long ago came into clear focus. While my classmates and I hadn’t had any intention of altering or damaging her language and, in fact, we thought that we were doing something positive in learning about a threatened language, what we missed, what I missed, was the impact of generations of white linguists and academics coming into communities and taking more than they gave, leaving with the knowledge that they sought but providing nothing in return or, worse, missing or ignoring key aspects of the relationship between the language and the people.
While I can’t recall the name of the Cree speaker from so long ago, and it is likely irrelevant to her whether I developed any further understanding of her perspective, I think that it is important that I have finally begun to see past my own viewpoint and have begun moving towards a greater understanding of the linguistic and cultural genocide that affected the indigenous peoples of North America. While my own interests in language relate to the structural components, it is important to be reminded that languages are not merely collections of linguistic properties. They must be respected as the cultural property of their speakers and a window into their worldview.
Mike Boucher
October 5th
Reflection
This past summer, against the advice from the government and from our parents, three of my friends and I decided to drive across the country to Vancouver, British Columbia. The four of us packed our things, shoved two weeks of food and clothes into a car and set off on the most hectic two weeks of our lives. With the average day being 12 hours of driving between two people (the only two that had licenses) we had a lot of time to talk and lots of time to look around. As we got deeper and deeper into the country that we have all lived in for our entire lives, there was a feeling of excitement and adventure as we got to see our beautiful country with our own eyes. That is, until we started to truly pay attention to what we were seeing. Countless reservations, countless “indidinous tourist attractions” that after further researched belonged to white people, and this is when my friends and I came to a realization. We know nothing about the true roots of our country. We were taught nothing in school, as our history textbooks had at most 3 pages on indigenous history in our country, and the information provided was heavily biased. Truly, we felt guilt. Passing through a town in Saskatchewan, my friend told me something that stuck in my head: “History is told by the oppressors”. That is the same line that went through my head two weeks later, when trying to find a class to join for my first term at university. I saw this class and thought back to driving through the country, and realized that this was a class I had to take.
A few months went by and finally it was time for my first class in Lin2636, honestly the only class I was truly excited for. When class started, I quickly realized this wouldn’t be a “normal university class”. Those first three hours of class was a crazy mix of emotions I truly wasn’t expecting to happen, but that truly needed to happen: excitement, sadness, and the most prominent feeling: guilt. I try my best to never disrespect others, and when I do I feel guilty. This was a different kind of guilty. I felt guilty for not looking into the history of indiginous people in the country when I heard the land acknowledgments. I felt guilty for being a supporter of BLM and pride, but for not being aware of the racism and the hatred that continues towards indigdinous people. I felt guilty to have driven across the entire country that indigenous people thrived on for thousands of years and didn’t truly realize how mistreated the community was. Truly, I felt guilty to be white and to have not done whatever I could up to that point to support indigenous people in Canada. This class has opened my eyes to the mistreatment of indigenous people like nothing has ever done before. This got me thinking, why is this what it took for me to truly take notice about this terrible mistreatment of a group who has been in the country longer than anyone else. And finally, I realised it was because the whole situation was being basically ignored for most of my life, so growing up I was never exposed to it. My parents did their best to inform me on the situation, but they knew less than I did, as my Mom grew up in another country, and my Dad told me that they weren’t taught a lot, if at all about indigenous people in Canada. This class has not only given me the opportunity to learn more about the TRUE history of our country, but it has also given me the opportunity to educate my friends who I went across the country with about what we were really seeing around the country. It gave me the opportunity to educate my parents, who weren’t able to have classes like this because of the racism of the school system. Allowed me to educate my community, about Canada’s original community. This class has given me the opportunity to do what I can to help the indeginous community in Canada, and for that this is the most important class I have ever taken.
Amal
It’s only been a few weeks since the start of this class, but it feels like each week brought me deeper into understanding the Anishnaabe worldview, even if it still feels like the tip of the iceberg. The importance in language and its connection to people and worldview clicked well with what I’ve come to love most about learning languages. It’s the fact that language gives you the means to not only communicate, but to express things specific to cultures, nations and peoples. I speak Urdu at home and, aside from learning French (and now Anishnaabemowen) at Glendon, I’ve become pretty fluent in Korean and started to learn Mandarin as well. What I’ve found is that with each language, you almost discover and become a different version of yourself, which feels amazing and mind-blowing. You express yourself in ways you couldn’t before with the worldview that each language and culture bring, and I found myself better understanding the people of those cultures because of that. All people have their own story and that is what appealed to me most about learning languages. When we were talking in class about linguicide, it was heart-wrenching to think that people were losing their language, and therefore, their identities. With the example of “potass”(?) given in class, we learned how much was horribly misinterpreted; something beautiful that connected people together as a community was reduced to just a cupboard. Things like this are specific to languages of different cultures and help to guide people to learn about themselves and their people. When we talked about this in class, it reminded me of a couple of examples from different languages that, from a first glance, seem like just simple words but have a much deeper meanings that are worldviews. One of these examples in “noon-chi” in Korean, which can mean something like “eye-gaze/glance”. This can mean reading social situations, being aware of someone watching you, etc. Explaining this concept in English is actually very difficult even as I’m writing this out, which just goes to show how exclusive ideas can be to certain cultures. I would connect this to how it’s very important to be consciously aware of others in Korean culture as a curtesy. It can be connected to how to act/speak if an elder is in the room, or someone of higher “rank”. It shows how people display respect.
This leads me to a concept that I had never really thought of before and it has to do with respect and responsibilities. When we spoke in class today about responsibility and how it was horrifically misconstrued as ownership, I heard for the first time about the responsibility to maintain the relationships between other things. Like the example with the canoe’s relationship with the water and fish, those need to be maintained. There’s this idea that everything and everyone around you is existing and interacting, and that we cannot impose ourselves on them. I think it’s a beautiful to give a whole other level of respect to the world around you. I also think we’re severely lacking this kind of thinking and that the whole world would be much better off with this worldview. This can apply to our own relationships, especially having healthy boundaries. A huge issue with how the world is running right now has to do with climate change and how we treat the environment. If we were to see this with Anishnaabe worldview, we would be responsible for taking care of the Earth even if we wished to use its resources. It would be our job to make sure that the world is running and interacting just the way it was, harmoniously, without ruining and exploiting it. Everything seems to be interconnected when I think of the world this way.
I’m really looking forward to learning more about Anishnaabe worldviews and what they can teach me about things that I thought I knew, but I really don’t.
Alyssa Argueta-Hinkson
One thing that really stood out to me from the past few lectures was the roles that everyone has to fulfill, and in particular, the Two Row Wampum Belt. The basis of this treaty is that the European settlers and Indigenous Peoples would live amicably amongst each other, where they will follow the three principles of peace, friendship, and mutual respect. To this day, the treaty still applies, but obviously, the settler government refuses to respect this treaty. The concept of the treaty had me thinking a lot about my place and responsibilities on Turtle Island.
I am Indigenous, but not to Turtle Island, making me a settler on this land. I do reap the benefits of being a settler on this land, but yet, I recognize and relate to a lot of the oppression and violence that Indigenous Peoples here are facing. This had me wondering which boat of the Two Row Wampum Belt I belong to. On one side, I am Indigenous. I am Mayan and Lokono-Arawak. Guatemala and Guyana, like Turtle Island, are suffering from the ongoing processes of colonialism and capitalism. I do understand how violent colonialism and capitalism can be as my ancestors suffered through that. My Indigenous ancestors were forced to forget their languages and adopt a different identity of being “Latino,” “Hispanic,” or “Spanish.” My African ancestors from Nigeria were displaced to Barbados to be slaves for the capitalistic agenda of the Europeans. I understand how it is like to live without knowing your language or not having cultural knowledge. So in some ways, I do understand the Indigenous Peoples here on Turtle Island. Does this mean I can completely understand the oppression and violence that is ongoing on Turtle Island? Hell no! I don’t have the familial ties to the violent system of the residential schools as my ancestors did not go through that, so I do not share the same intergenerational trauma. I don’t have ties to this land as my ancestors do not build their nations here. This is why I think I can’t be on the same boat as Indigenous Peoples for the Two Row Wampum Belt.
In regards to the settler side of the Two Row Wampum Belt, I recognize my privileges of being a settler on Turtle Land. Like many settlers on Turtle Island, I have running, clean water, a steady source, and relatively cheap source of food, and I have accessible resources, such as trustworthy healthcare. Many Indigenous communities don’t have access to clean water, where water advisories have become the norm. Food items are a lot more expensive in remote communities, especially the healthier options. Remote communities are also isolated from resources, such as healthcare and education. Even then, the healthcare and education system has failed Indigenous Peoples repeatedly. From the residential schools to the forced sterilization of Indigenous women, how does anyone expect Indigenous Peoples to trust these systems?
I think I belong on the side of the settlers, where even though I am Indigenous and can understand the struggles of the people here, this is not my land. I think I can have an important role on the settler side of the treaty due to me being able to comprehend and relate to the oppression and violence that is ongoing here. I can help guide the settlers in the right direction, with the guidance from the Indigenous Peoples here. I do not want to be at the forefront of the Indigenous resistance movement in Turtle Island as this is not my land, but I want to be an ally to them. I will try my best to fulfill my responsibilities as a settler, but also as an Indigenous ally.
Samantha Nichols
I just do not understand.
I do not understand where we went so wrong. Humans are supposed to be caring, compassionate, sympathetic, logical, and a million other things, but monstrous was not supposed to be included. Where did we get this idea that we could take First Nations People for granted? We came to this land we now call Canada and settled in a place that was already home to other people. We take their land, poison them, trick them, and kill them. We take all the credit for finding this land we call Canada. More people come over and we decide that we oversee every newcomer and existing resident. The mistreatment of First Nations Peoples goes unchecked for years. Suddenly, we decide these people are “savages” that cannot possibly have the intellect and people skills to co exist with us, so we try to “remove the savage within”. We take these peoples children and send them away to residential schools where they will learn English and become “civilized”. We send children to stay in an institution which does not care about what happens to them. Priests and nuns of the church are in charge of the children and they are corrupt and cruel, they do not care about the wellness of the children, they care about “building a better world free of savagery”. If you believe in a God of any kind there is no religion in which what was done to these children was right. We managed to take a peaceful people and frame them as savages to convince the country to wipe out their culture. We set off a - metaphoric - radioactive bomb that will continue to seep radioactive material for generations to come. The parents that lost their children were traumatized and lost their faith in the law, if they had any to begin with. The children that managed to age out of residential schools without sustaining any physical abuse would still suffer the consequences of identity loss, if they were able to remember their names and go home, the loss of their language and culture would make it extremely difficult to live a normal life, never mind emotional trauma from being taken at an early age in development - that unfortunately is the best case scenario. The sad truth is a large portion of these children that were taken away died in the system and were buried in mass graves never to be found or identified. These children were either assaulted and died, committed suicide, or managed to escape and died trying to find their way home. For the few that managed to return to their homes riddled with trauma and grief, their lives did not get better. These children grew into adults and had children of their own. Now parents addicted to drugs and alcohol to blur the memories of their terrible childhoods have no model for parenting other and abuse and assault. The lives of these new children although not going through the residential school system will experience a childhood of abuse and neglect. First Nation youth suicide is the highest in the country. We have created generations of trauma, we have hurt so many people, families. We continue to take their land away. We push them onto the smallest, most economically worthless lands to live. We continue to inflict pain on these people. They do not have access to clean water, proper homes, trauma counsellors, education, or proper game and fish to continue their cultural traditions. Things are changing so slowly that I can hardly see a difference, but I know it is happening. I just do not understand where it all went wrong. I want someone to blame, just one person who started all this. I want the government to give these people the help they deserve. I want these people to have all the land they want and need, I want them to have beautiful clean homes, I want them to have clean water. I want their education system to be as amazing as Maya and her beautiful workbook she made for us. I want change to happen quicker. We have people apologizing for things that happened before they were born, but that is not the change we need. We have land acknowledgments, but that is not giving people back their land. The government is doing the absolute bare minimum to show progress but it is not progressing toward any of the needs of these First Nations people that have had their culture, language, lives, and lineage destroyed because approximately 120 years ago, some privileged white man labeled the First Nations people as dangerous savages. I just do not understand how that happened to begin with, and with such a good following from the general population that allowed more than one of these schools to be opened. I do not understand why in 2020 we have not found a way to give something back to these people. These are the things I just do not understand.
Jarod Munson
As a very young person, I always felt that epiphanies, those moments of realization that change your path, those life-changing seconds that jolt you into awareness and consciousness, do not exist. I was wrong, and I was literally kicked back to reality at the age of 16 years old. My epiphany begins in my early journey of martial arts training which started at the age of 5 years with Mixed Martial Arts, Karate, and Taekwondo. (Note that I purposefully create these forms of martial art in capital letters because they are a large part of my identity. I have decided to ‘pronoun’ them in this reflection to emphasize the importance of my training.) With my passion came my drive to succeed thus I have announced the most valuable junior male in Karate, winning multiple Toronto and Canadian Open Tournaments; in addition, I mentored other students even older than me as this is not a culture of age-ism but one that takes into consideration your experience. No matter the art, the training has developed me in areas of self-discipline, confidence, focus, respect, perseverance, resiliency and compliance.
As you can imagine, my accolades brought me first and second-place awards in every competition I entered starting at the age of 6 years old in Karate. During those tournaments, I complied with each and every direction that my coach would yell out in my direction. In those tournaments, I can foresee every move my opponent would do before he completes the movement. In those tournaments, I was in a zone of anticipation – always anticipating my opponent’s next move, guessing how he might avoid any of my moves, and responding to each direction from my coach without hesitation. This process worked for me and I had the multiple trophies, plaques and medals as evidence. Of course, it was successful until it was no more. I was misled to believe that success is in compliance with the coach. But, in the real world, in reality, it bit me in the ass to believe this illusion. It happened during one of my Black Belt Tournaments, where I finally met my match, he was doing exactly what I’ve been doing; he was anticipating my every move and countered me perfectly. I felt lost in this fight as if I, myself, was lost, I couldn’t put my moves together. I felt choppy, out of sync with my mind and body, and that I lost the harmony of my moves. As I was about to get kicked in the face, the epiphany hit me LITERALLY kicked me in the face and I realized OH SHIT, I LOST.
For the first time in my young yet experienced Martial Artist life, I fucken lost a competition. It royally sucked and I originally blamed myself…but deep in my soul, I knew I didn’t do anything wrong. I listened to every direction of my coach. I did what I was told just as I always did. As a young child, I was a very shy, anxious and compliant kid who was terrified to verbally share what was on my mind. I was especially afraid to speak up and wouldn’t dare even consider speaking up if I disagreed with a thought or statement or action. I especially believed that those who were teaching me always knew the right answers and that they would teach me what I need to be successful in life. Thus, I was an obedient, overly-compliant, non-thinking young robot who never questioned anything I was taught at school following each and every rule and direction bestowed upon me. My epiphany made me realize that this compliance will only get me so far. My home-education always encouraged me to ‘think outside the box’, ‘make connections’, ‘use creativity in tournaments’, ‘don’t assume they’re right’, and ‘think critically’. When I truly stopped and reflected on that tournament, I realized that I knew the coach’s directions were wrong but I still did them. I knew the moment he yelled me to do a ‘roundhouse kick’ that it was not the right time; but, I still did it. I knew the second he yelled for me to ‘retreat then do a back-kick’ that it was not the right move; and yet, I still did it. I was a robot in my body regurgitating the bullshit allowing society to direct me, lead my path and define who I am. My world shifted underneath me as if I was experiencing a slow-moving earthquake where the path in front of me was changing at that very moment. My eyes changed its lens, my ears twitched for the truth, and my heart was beating to a different rhythm. I realized in that moment that I have all the basic and foundational knowledge to make me an expert in my own destiny. I was reminded that I was the one who is getting kicked in the face, I was the one who suffers the lost, I was the one who has to get up from the mat; then I might as well ensure that the consequences whether it be positive or negative, are the result of my own doing. I’m not suggesting that I know everything; however, I now know that I will no
Ashley Achacon
Of the many topics and ideas discussed in class so far, I will be reflecting on gradual civilization and the restoration of indigenous languages. I was unaware of both concepts beforehand. As much as I enjoyed attending these lectures, I started to feel almost embarrassed of my unawareness. This idea of gradual civilization really opened my eyes to my lack of knowledge on indigenous people and culture. There was so much I did not know, and it took me by surprise.
The fact that a person’s status depended entirely on the language(s) they were able to speak is just racist and disgusting. Why is there a standard of civilization, and what makes people believe it is correct universally, or even correct at all? The beauty of the world is that normalcy is different everywhere; there is not simply one normal. The struggle for acceptance is such a real problem in the world because there is always the concept of not being good enough. But what exactly are we being compared to, and why does the comparison exist in the first place? People and cultures are unique in their own ways, but somehow, we all became stuck in this game of comparison.
It makes me feel even more frustrated to see the oppression of culture that occurred in the past still happening in the world today. Why have things not changed even after realizing that they were wrong in the past? For most of my life I was aware that racism still existed, but I felt that the issue had significantly improved when compared to the past. However, being in this class as well as just taking in the events of this past year have led me to the conclusion that I was very wrong. All of my life I viewed the world through semi rose-tinted glasses, mostly seeing what I wanted the world to be and not digging deep enough into its harsh reality. After this realization, I am now learning about the things I did not know I was missing.
The restoration of indigenous languages is proven to be extremely effective at preventing suicide. I also found this particularly interesting because it makes so much sense, yet it remains overlooked. I think that a problem many people struggle with today is the feeling that something is missing in their life. It is an emptiness that they cannot quite shake, or a longing for something they do not know. The sad thing is that sharing this type of problem with others is not taken seriously as often as it should. They point to all of the external factors in life and refuse to believe you can have problems deep internally within yourself. This western notion of health neglects so many important factors of a person’s well-being and it can be very frustrating. There is so much more to it that people do not realize or understand.
When I was in high school, I felt an extreme pressure to do well and it definitely took a toll on my mental health. There were times where I would allow myself to suffer mentally so much that I would become physically sick. It was not until grade 12 that I realized how much I was hurting myself by letting this continue. I think it is the internal factors that people ignore because they cannot be seen. This is why people do not see how the restoration of a language has such dramatic effects. It is so much more than just speaking; it is freedom and identity. In my eyes, it is like giving a person back a piece of themselves when they did not realize they were missing it in the first place.
After discussing with other students, I realized that I had not been taught anything remotely close to this. Everything that I knew about indigenous people and culture was from a completely different perspective. When Maya asked the class, “did you learn this?” it triggered such a strong feeling of guilt inside of me that it brought me to tears. At first, I was genuinely confused; I did not understand why. Then I realized that I felt so frustrated with myself for being ignorant to something so important. We have, in fact, been colonized to believe and think about events in a certain way. The education system not only failed to teach me about something so important and serious, but also presented it to me in such a sugar-coated and misleading way. I now feel that I never really knew anything to begin with, which is scary to think about. Society has hidden this from me for such a large portion of my life, and I find that absolutely devastating.
Rachel Fields
As a non-indigenous person, I have been made more aware than ever before about what duties I hold in society and what responsibilities I have to upkeep. I acknowledge the privilege that I have, as a white, Canadian, female is incomparable and puts me in a position of advantage in society. My culture nor my language have ever been at risk and I’ll never understand the generational impacts that linguicide has on indigenous communities not just across Canada, but worldwide. Through the first few weeks in taking this course, I have earned a greater understanding and appreciation for what my duties are in society. It is essential that I continue to educate myself and take proactive steps decolonizing myself and others who live in ignorance. I have always known that racism still exists, but it’s not something I am in a position to speak on. What I feel like is the most important for someone like myself is to listen to others and become proper allies in hopes to work towards decolonization and peaceful coexistence. Some important steps that I have learned to take in the decolonization process include amplifying indigenous voices, honouring and putting a spotlight on indigenous languages, and respecting treaty rights.
To begin, it has become more obvious than ever for me, the importance of amplifying indigenous voices in order to fully understand traumatic pasts and move towards more peaceful futures. From what I’ve observed taking this course and, in the news, today, performative activism and this concept of fake liberal ‘wokeness’ is more apparent than ever. In my opinion, the efforts made by society today don’t do enough to amplify indigenous voices and are less effective than we think in making sure history does not repeat itself. Seeing all of these initiatives today, although very important steps to be made, makes me question whether or not non-indigenous people have actually asked to make sure their initiatives work. History is doomed to repeat itself if we don’t start listening to and amplifying indigenous voices. My biggest takeaway is that we all need to understand and be willing to hear that the help we think we’re giving may not be as effective as we think it is. Although it’s important to put the spotlight on recognizing indigenous land, I think it’s just as important to amplify pedagogy and medicinal practices that belong to indigenous cultures.
To continue, I have become much more aware of the importance of indigenous languages and preserving them. Speaking from personal experience, language gives us a sense of belonging and helps makes us feel part of something. The languages we speak can provide us with this feeling of identity and when something this essential to the core of many groups is stripped away from someone in the form on linguicide, the impacts are extremely harmful. English is my first language, as is the case for the majority of the people I grew up around. I wish I hadn’t been so ignorant towards this privilege I’ve been living with but learning about linguicide and how detrimental this very concept is to many indigenous communities has enlightened me and inspired me to do better in the future. As a hopeful future educator, I will no longer accept the colonial teaching methods and pedagogy which exclude indigenous practices and methods. When doing this in the future, I am also going to make sure I don’t come off as a white saviour and honour indigenous languages in a way which I know doesn’t speak over them. I don’t even want to imagine how lonely and isolating of a feeling it can be to have my language and culture stripped away from me, and still be facing these impacts generations later. Through this course so far, I’ve learned that it’s my duty to incorporate and amplify indigenous points of view in education so to help prevent any further forms of linguicide.
Among other things I’ve learned in this course so far, one that stuck out the most to me was learning about the different forms of treaties and what they meant in the past and how they are being honoured today. With gaining new information about the Two Row Wampum, for example, I am able to better understand my duties as a non-indigenous person and reflect on what work we have to do to get back to a place in society where we honour these treaty agreements. Since high school, I have had very baseline knowledge on this topic, only ever being taught what the two purple rows symbolize (two boats travelling down the same river with their paths never crossing). This very knowledge has made me question everything about the public education system and the crisis it still sees itself in today. It is not rational to think we are moving towards a more peaceful future while still actively ignoring this historical treaty and what it outlines. Now, I understand that the belt represents so much more and holds so many important value
Emily Isaac
As I learn about the state of Indigenous languages, it got me thinking about my own experiences learning new languages and how that relates to the situation in which many Indigenous people currently find themselves. I reflect on how I took French in school. Almost every class I had was in French. I even graduated with a French diploma. By the end of the 13 years, I could speak very poor French: the kind of French that most are too embarrassed to speak. It’s been 5 years now since I graduated from secondary school and I can read in French and understand it being spoken but when it comes to speaking it myself, I can barely string together a proper sentence. Even though they call it French immersion, I was definitely not fully immersed in the language; I learned what I had to in order to get by in class. Had my parents spoken French to me at home while growing up, I’m sure it would have been a different story. It goes to show just how important speaking a language in a home setting is in order to fully learn it.
One day, I’d love to learn Omamiwininimowin fluently. I can sign up for language classes through my reserve, yet I’m afraid that without the needed exposure to the language, I will never be fluent. I don’t have any Algonquin speaking people in my (known) family. Reflecting on my experiences of attempting to learn a second language and through what I’ve learned in this class, I now understand why intergenerational transmission of language is so important for a language to flourish. Without a parent or grandparent to immerse you in the language, it’s evident that in most cases the language will not stick, case in point: my current “French-speaking” capabilities.
When I learned in this class that all Indigenous languages are considered endangered, even the ones with the most speakers, I was not surprised. Sad yes, but not surprised. I repeat: every single Indigenous language is considered endangered!! Every time I read that sentence, I have to take a moment to absorb the gravity of the situation. The reason I’m not surprised at this statement is because, you look at the policies, the racism, the violence which has been imposed on Indigenous peoples and it makes complete sense why our languages have suffered! So many Indigenous children were/are just trying to survive. Not to mention that residential schools and the 60’s scoop and countless other atrocities, actively targeted our languages and cultures. The very existence of Indigenous people on Turtle Island threatens the legality of canada, so erasing Indigenous people in whichever way possible has always been in canada’s best interest.
In my family anyways, the canadian government took our language. My Mother, an Indigenous child grew up in a white family’s home where she was treated as though she was inferior to their biological children. This really messed my mom up. I could tell growing up that Mom wasn’t often happy. She had a lot of shit to deal with. At birth, it was unfairly decided for her that she would not have access to her language and culture; She wasn’t even given a chance! At no fault of our own, learning our language remained near impossible. The relevance of this is astounding to me. I get pretty angry when I think about it. It’s coming up on 10 years now since she passed away. I know my Mom struggled with the idea of reconnecting with her birth family and our Algonquin culture, but I hope she understands why I want to learn.
My Mom survived a genocide because she was strong as fuck, her language didn’t, but maybe one day I will be able to speak it for the both of us.
Meegwetch,
Emily
Tabitha
Reflection #2
It may sound really nerdy of me, but I am absolutely in love with the grammar. It reminds me of building blocks or Lego; there’s the main verb and then you build on it with other parts. There is something extremely satisfying about building up an entire sentence in one word. There are so many possibilities with language, stories to be written, conversations to be had, feelings to share; in one of my other classes we take a second look at what is said/written and break it down because it’s fascinating the way humans operate. So much can be seen through what is said or thought. That’s why my favourite part of class is listening to the stories Maya tells us. Through these stories we have to understand not just what is said, but also what is not said. There are meanings and lessons woven in through the characters portrayed and the characteristics they represent. Their reactions in these stories give us further insight into what they represent and what we should be seeing. I read an article about this woman who lived up north among some Indigenous people and she remarked how amazed she was that they never got angry. That’s because anger is seen as a childish emotion and letting it show is immature. From a young age they tell stories to children to show them that anger is childish and should not be shown. I think that there definitely has to be some interesting words that are unique and inexpressible by other languages. I absolutely love how there could be so many different words in different languages. I really love how there are so many more verbs in Anishinaabe to describe situations and it’s more interesting than some of the stereotypical verbs in English. By contrast, English is a patchwork of Germanic structure with a bunch of French words thrown in and other borrowed words as well. It makes no sense and it’s miraculous how anyone would ever be able to learn English without giving up. Just look at the word “yacht” as an example. Our pronunciation is inconsistent and our spelling is horrendous. Did you know that words like “girl” used to be spelled with an “h” like “ghirl”? That has long faded but because of printing of the Bible, we still spell “ghost” with an “h” because it was solidified in writing. The biggest problem with having language in writing is that even though there’s a standard for written language, the spoken language will always continue to change and adapt. That’s why we have things like “finna” which was originally a mistext of the word “gonna” which was a short form of “goingta” which was originally “going to” and as you can see, we have that in speech (slang) yet the writing and system stays firmly in place. I was reminded of that when Maya said that in some places they started changing up the categories of words between “it” and “he/she”. I’ve read through a bunch of other people’s reflections and they make it seem so personal and they’re all so passionate about everything but I’ve never felt like that. Sure, I like things or I dislike things, but I’ve never felt the need to be all in. Maybe that’s just who I am or maybe nobody is truly “all in” but who am I to say whether they should or shouldn’t be. I enjoy talking about language and thinking about grammar but it’s not something I would spend every waking moment thinking about it. I wonder what it’s like to be so invested in something that you won’t stop until you accomplish what you intend. I wonder if that’s healthy or unhealthy. I wonder if what is normal is normative. Should things be the way they are? Should people be obsessed with only a few things? Maybe one day I’ll find out. Maybe I never will.
Eleana Norton
Reflection 2 (accidentally submitted this several hours ago under Reflection 1, sorry about that!)
I was recently introduced to Plato’s cave allegory, which paints a picture of knowledge and education. Plato describes the world as a cave, where people in the cave see the images projected on the walls as reality. In order to know the truth, we need to leave this illusion and see that the world as illuminated by the sun. However, the process of exiting the cave is not an easy one; it is painful to turn our eyes from the shadows to the sunlight as we must unlearn what we once accepted as truth.
In many ways, this has been my experience with education. I have had to unlearn many of the narratives I was taught in order to take hold of a more holistic truth. The stories I was told in primary and secondary school portrayed Indigenous peoples as lacking in knowledge and technology. Thus, I was always made to believe that the relationships between Europeans and Indigenous were reciprocal. While there may have been mutual trades and exchanges of knowledge, there is nothing reciprocal about being given smallpox infested blankets or the privatization of land that was occupied by Indigenous people.
Something that has really stuck out to me from Anishinaabemowin Language and Culture is that everyone is hurt when stories are colonized. Native people will suffer the consequences much more acutely, but a non-native person such as myself also has reason to be angry at the fact that we have all been lied to. I want to turn this anger into action, especially when it comes to my own future classroom when I become an elementary school teacher. This is why I wrote a picture book as a promise to myself and my future students. It was important for me to use the native names when possible, since far too often we use a name adopted by colonizers because we are afraid how an indigenous language will sound on our tongues. May the lessons I lacked as a youth be the strength of my future students.
Link to view my picture book: https://www.mystorybook.com/books/976474/
Works Cited:
"30 Indigenous Leaders". The Canadian Encyclopedia, 06 October 2015, Historica Canada. https://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/30-indigenous-leaders. Accessed 01 November 2020.
Eleana Norton
I never knew
A leader who fought for peace
Only to be imprisoned.
Who waited a century
For due exoneration.
You will know his name
Pihtokahanapiwiyin.
I never knew
A painter and feminist
Who told stories through her art
Explored history through murals
And celebrated culture
You will know her name
Daphne Odjig
I never knew
A chief who wouldn’t accept
A treaty that equalled doom.
Who united his people
To firmly stand and defy.
You will know his name
Mistahimaskwa.
I never knew
A peace negotiator
A teacher and interpreter
Essential to the fur trade
Embodiment of courage
You will know her name
Thanadelthur
I never knew
Of the residential schools
That robbed children of their lives
And banned their identity
Many lie in unmarked graves
You will know their names
Alexander Sakepukaw
Benjamin Crow
Charlotte Endageezick
And thousands more
I never knew
A life giver and trickster
Traveler of Turtle Island
Who’s presence at creation
Speaks more lessons than Disney
You will know his name
Nanabozho
I never knew
How my home was native land
Before it was Peterborough
Its title held more meaning;
At the foot of the rapids.
You will know its name
Nogojiwanong
I never knew
The agreement we stand on
Promise of understanding
Hoped in by Anishinaabeg
Broken by colonizers
You will know its name
Nitami-Naakinigewin
Zakaria Mohamed
Reflection #2
Topic: Responsibility
Responsibility was mentioned in class and I really resonated with it because, everyone has a responsibility that they need to fulfill. I feel that I had to display my feeling on the topic through poem/story.
An eerie vibe has settled on the land.
No one has ever seen this before.
Fear.
Chaos.
Like a tornado that has set foot on earth,
Erasing anything in its path.
Forgetting that there is life there.
Life that was in balance.
Balance that in involves in Responsibility.
The tornado had no clue it destroyed the balance.
Thought that now there isn’t anything left it decided to make a new balance
But…
Not realizing there is life left that still hold their responsibility.
Still tornado couldn’t care less.
Tornado decides to impose its values on responsibility on to life.
The clashing of the two responsibility
Heavens
It feels as if the so-called responsibility of tornado was not what it perceived
But rather it embraces the responsibility that life has bestowed upon it.
Life needs balance.
Trees need water, and sunlight.
Water and sunlight give life to creature that help balance the world we live in
Why is it so hard to see the greater good?
One day
Progress
For now, let our minds become one
Let us embrace our duties for the greater good
I hope, I just hope…
Responsibility.
One word.
Nathalie Latip Peththawadu
I started taking this class because I really like languages, and I was very interested into learning a different language that Indo-European or Japonic languages. We have been studying only a few weeks now, and it was interesting to see that Anishinaabemowin’s verb declination, looked pretty much like French, although it looks way more complex than French to me. I feel that every week we are learning new aspect of the language and it makes me feel closer to the indigenous people.
As I already talked about, with some of my partners during the breakout room, I am not born in Canada, my mother tongue is not English, and I am still discovering my new environment. When I first came in Canada, I got to complete many administrative documents for my kids and for myself. What surprised me at first, was that there was always a spot on the form that asked to identify our own community as Caucasian, Asian, metis, autochthones, or from other communities. At that time, I was puzzled to know what autochthones stands for… When my kids started to go to school, I got to know that they were saying the Treaty of recognition every morning ; on September 30, they are wearing « an orange tee-shirt », to honor and remember the experiences and loss of the thousands of children who were stolen from their families and placed in Indian Residential Schools. All of these made me feel that what happened to the indigenous was part of history, and that Canada was trying to make up for what they did to them. An I couldn’t figure out, why indigenous people were stricking on Via rail a few month ago. However, through the discussions in class, I learnt that these issues were not part of History, but still remains in nowadays. I feel very disturbed when I think about what indigenous people went through and are still going through. I talked about it with my son who is in grade 6, because he is very fond about anything related to autochthones, and he started to do research about it. It happens that he had a presentation about indigenous culture, since this is the Treaty recognition week from November 2 to November 6, and when he disclosed his discoveries about how indigenous people are illtreated and the number of are suicides of indigenous every year because of what they are going through. The teacher was very surprised that an 11 years old kid would bring that topic to the table as they mainly only cover the historical and cultural part, but do not disclose the other part of the coin to the society. I think that, as Maya is trying to do, having people getting to know more about the language can benefit in a double way. It will help to save the language and avoid it to disappear from the world, and it could lead, people, indigenous and non-indigenous, to learn about the hidden reality. A language is not only a Language, but a Culture, and a language only survive through people’s transmission from one generation to another.
Jarod Munson
Reflection #2
As a Filipino, we have very large families with hundreds of cousins, uncles and aunts. Having large families comes with having a very multi-cultured family and being used to having different ethnicities within my family. From white people, black people, to Asian people, all of these cultures are all within my family. So growing up with such a diverse family, I never thought there was a problem with mixing cultures and that people from other ethnicities were weird or uncommon. We would have huge family gatherings that everyone would go to and we would not speak of the difference in our colours. If you were apart of our family that was the only thing that mattered and the only thing we all cared about. We were all a family and we did not refer to the colour of your skin or the background you came from.
From this large family, I then moved to Ajax/Scarborough area, as we all know is a very diverse and multi-cultured area of Ontario. Again in this area, it was a large amount of black and Asian people that lived here. So growing up here it showed me that there was not any racism and we did not hate each other for the fact that we had different eyes or different skin colours than one another. I loved it here, I immediately felt like I belonged here, we were all alike and we all had the same interest and hobbies as each other. I stayed here until I graduated elementary school and then we had to move to Barrie.
So moving to Barrie, as soon as we got here I went out to the park to play some basketball to hopefully meet some others that would want to play with me. As I got there, there were a few people playing basketball, but when I stepped onto the basketball court they all looked at me weirdly. They gave me the worst looks and kept staring at me as if I was going to hurt them. I then went up to them to ask if they wanted to play a game of two on two, which then they looked at each other and ran away leaving the park. That made me feel out of place and that I was not wanted in my neighbourhood. I went back home because I was not in the mood to play basketball anymore. I then convinced myself that it was just a group of rude kids and that they are just a bunch of assholes. My brain believed this because I was conditioned on the fact I did not believe there was any racism and that they just did not want to play with me, not due to my skin colour.
So then high school came, the first day of grade nine, my first class was gym class we started off playing basketball because it is an easy game that does not require many materials for everyone to participate in. So then, we started playing there was four team captains and they chose their players, as people were chosen, someone said “I will take Jeremy Lin”, (if you did not know Jeremy Lin is a famous Asian basketball player). So me being passive I just walked up to the person who called me and waited until we started playing. The game then started and we started playing and all the white kids that were on the other team started making racist remarks towards me saying “Hey Jeremy”, “Ching Chong”, and even using their hands to slant their eyes. I felt out of place, lost in a place unfamiliar to me. Moving to Barrie I did not receive the same welcoming as I was hoping to receive when I lived in Ajax. I didn’t get that home feeling here, I hated it, I wanted to leave this city.
Then came working a job, in grade 10 I went for my first job interview at Toys R Us, after a few months of working there I became an essential part of the team. So on one of my shifts, I was walking around and I stumble upon a customer I then proceed to ask “Hi, how is it going? Do you need any help with anything”, and she responds and I quote “No!, I don’t need help from people like you”, after that I was in shock and I just left her. Immediately after, I saw her go up to my WHITE co-worker and said, “Ahhhhh, someone who can really help me”. This is when I realized that racism is still a thing, and it made me realized that in society there is no “we”, there are only “them” and “us”.
As society is currently, the majority (which is white people) try to hide the fact that there is racism; they try to hide the fact that they stereotype people based on their appearance, especially if they are a different skin colour than them. It is a horrible topic to mention but, it is indeed true. It made me change my perspective of people and made me a bit more cautious about how I was presented or how I carry myself. But what’s crazy is the fact that even if I try to stand up for myself I was for some reason in the wrong. For example, I receive another racist remark while I was at work, I could not find the item the customer was looking for and he said “How about you open your eyes you chink”, with this I brought this situation up to