Moontime Warrior

Fearless Philosophizing, Embodied Resistance (by Erica Violet Lee)

The Wigwam Conspiracy (CBC Canada 2017)

"There have always been divergent stories of "home" in Canada. Mythic, pluralistic Glowing Hearts, on one hand, oppressive Home on Native land, on the other. In the former, symbols dominate: empty wigwams and tipis because they don't speak back to paternalism; sacred... Continue Reading →

In Defense of the Wastelands (GUTS Magazine)

I wrote a feature for the fabulous GUTS Canadian Feminist Magazine's issue 7: Love, titled In Defense of the Wastelands: A Survival Guide: "...for those of us in the wastelands - for those of us who are the wastelands - caring for... Continue Reading →


The bones, too. Eat the bones too. Eat the leaves of strawberries; do not bite the fruit off and throw the rest away as if the plant grew itself with the intention of being easier for human hands. Soft salmon... Continue Reading →

Red Rising Magazine: Land, Language and Decolonial Love

I wrote a feature for the November 2016 issue of Red Rising Magazine, a publication run by and for Indigenous people, based in Winnipeg. On land and language: "Our languages and lands were made for love. We have wide skies,... Continue Reading →


It’s cute when we send each other pictures of the night sky, even though everyone knows they never turn out. It’s cute when we waste evenings talking about lunar magic, but let me get it out of the way and say:... Continue Reading →

For northern girls

If you knew how proud they are that you made it to the age of 16 21 twenty-five 30 thirty-six age 10. in this province built up on the devastation of universes and bodies like ours you might never feel... Continue Reading →

My ancestors survived colonization and all I got was this lousy eye twitch

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 →

My Optimism Wears Moccasins and is Loud: On Paris, Heavy Metal, and Chasing Freedom

Content Warning: sexual assault; Indigenous Feminist anger that cuts like the lead riff in “The Trooper” My optimism wears moccasins and is loud. My optimism sometimes wears moccasins and is always loud. As a Nehiyaw girl growing up in a... Continue Reading →

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