As the doctor empties a third needle into my face to temporarily freeze the colonial eye twitch I’ll endure the rest of my life, she chirps, “It’s great that you started this procedure so young: you’ll never get wrinkles!”
Poetry gives me freedom, sometimes. Sometimes forces me into shapes, corners, feminities that are stunning, suffocating And deliciously dishonest. Once I said I wanted my writing to taste good served with misâskwatômina, like sweet berries. Like the only way Native women are... Continue Reading →
Shame is the reaction requested when they look you in the mouth and say, “lost her language”, but I know language well enough to pinpoint each time it's lost instead of stole, and that my shame alone cannot build homes or sustain bodies.
What truths would be written if academics weren't afraid of losing their jobs? What truths would be written if you followed through, in practice, the type of sovereignty and decolonization you theorize in journals? All the times I've heard some version of "I'm... Continue Reading →
It is not a coincidence that areas with high Indigenous populations are the areas deprived of access to food and health care. At its core, this is an issue of maintaining the dispossession of Indigenous people and the legitimacy of Canadian control; an attempt to destroy the nations and legal orders that we hold in our blood, our muscles, our stomaches, our minds, our mouths.
To paraphrase an Indigenous faculty member, “If I walked in and decided I wanted to teach physics, they would laugh me out of the office. So why is it that this university is allowing someone to teach Indigenous content without the proper qualification?"
Dear Troy, Brent, Bill and Brann, A year ago, I finally had the chance to see Mastodon play with Ghost and Opeth in Saskatoon. I was front row center, pressed against the gates for the first two sets. It was... Continue Reading →