MY TAKE
THOSE WHOM WE WALK WITH
Reconciliation has become ubiquitous and inextricably tied to the long-term goal of healing the relationship between Indigenous Peoples and Canada at large. Image credit: JONATHAN LIM on Unsplash.
By SHAGORIKA EASWAR
When I wear the beaded earrings that I purchased many years ago at an Indigenous arts collective on Manitoulin Island, am I guilty of cultural appropriation?
When I purchase a bracelet with a charm signifying a Native wish for health and longevity for a friend at the AGO, are the three of us – myself, my friend and the AGO partners in crime?
David A Robertson gets the uncertainty around these situations. In his book 52 Ways to Reconcile with the tagline, How to Walk With Indigenous Peoples On The Path To Healing, he writes “Canadians want to do the right thing. The barrier is that there can be a fear of doing the wrong thing. It’s a conundrum.”
He’s chatty, never preachy, and he understands the fear of crossing lines that paralyses even those with the best of intentions into inaction.
He addresses this and much more. “Reconciliation” has become “ubiquitous and inextricably tied to the long-term goal of healing the relationship between Indigenous Peoples and Canada at large,” he writes. He cautions against using it indiscriminately lest it lose its meaning. “We’re in danger of losing our focus, and maybe even, in the not-so-distant future, our interest.”
Robertson starts by questioning the very use of the word reconciliation, defined as the restoring of friendly relations. However, if, as he points out, there never existed a good relationship between the Indigenous People and colonists, exactly what are we trying to restore?
He shares that his father asked if there weren’t more important things to worry about, and that he conceded the point.
And urges readers to be better informed, to learn, and to walk the path with intent and respect.
He’s doing so himself, by learning and including his language, Swampy Cree, in his books. It’s a language he lost due to the impact of colonialism on his father and grandmother.
The suggestions, one per week, are easy to follow – some more than others – and no more than three or four pages each. He starts readers off easy.
Host a movie night. Robertson suggests a few names.
Start an Indigenous book club. Again, he suggests authors. Among them, luminaries like Richard Wagamese, Thomas King and Tanya Talaga. Here, we’re in luck, as there are so many to choose from and I’d like to add two of my own: From the Ashes by Indigenous Canadian historian and writer Jesse Thistle and Fresh Banana Leaves by Indigenous (though not Canadian) environmental scientist Jessica Hernandez.
And then, on week 4, we come to my earrings. Well, earrings in general.
Learn the difference between cultural appropriation and cultural appreciation. A pointer to how this might take a little work lies in the family story he shares of summers by the lake. The resort with housekeeping cottages in Riding Mountain National Park, also had a totem pole, in front of which all the Robertsons would line up for a family picture.
As he grew older, though, he questioned Indigenous cultures being treated as mere tourist attractions. Inukshuks on your porch or dream-catcher earrings... they’re not deliberate acts of harm, but learning about the history of inukshuks or ensuring the earrings are authentic takes the act from appropriation to appreciation.
Write a land acknowledgement. This one raises a question I have often asked myself. Acknowledge, and then what? How does this change anything? Robertson writes that land acknowledgements are no longer uncommon and that’s a great thing. What’s not so great is that increasingly, they’re recited. “To recite something is to lack intention, and I think that’s what we’re beginning to miss.”
Research how much was given by Indigenous Peoples, and how little they were provided in return.
Education for kids, the reserve system, and maybe five dollars annually without inflation (I just caught up on thirteen years of unclaimed treaty payments and got a whopping sixty-five dollars in my bank account).
Learning a few words in somebody else’s language is a show of respect, he writes, and shares the word the Cree use for thank you – ekosani.
I am reminded of the letter Dr Chandrakant Shah, who has championed Indigenous rights for much of his life, wrote to his Indigenous colleagues on September 30 one year – Canada marks it as the Day of Truth and Reconciliation.
Dear colleagues,
Please accept my sincere gratitude for sharing this beautiful land with my family and myself. On this day of Truth and Reconciliation, as a newcomer and settler, I do accept the truth about the impact of colonization, residential schools, sixties scoop, not respecting treaties and all injustices suffered by Indigenous People as outlined by the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. Throughout my life, I will make sincere efforts to be an ally of Indigenous People and develop and maintain a trust relationship. I, to the best of my abilities, will also make earnest attempts to rectify the present situation your people are in. I will take my obligation towards past, present and future treaties signed by Canada with Indigenous People seriously and always be mindful of the fact that the land that I am living and working on belongs to your people.
Chi miigwetch, thank you.
He thanked them in Ojibwa, one of the many Indigenous languages.
I was also delighted to find mention of Strini Reddy in the book. Reddy, who received the Order of Canada, was featured as a Grant’s Desi Achiever in 2017 for his work as a social justice activist. Among his many worthy initiatives, was one which brought Indigenous and non-Indigenous children together at a sacred gathering place called Thunderbird House to foster mutual respect under the guidance of four elders.
Check your idioms. “File this one under decolonizing the way we speak,” writes Robertson.
How many of us stop to think about the origins of expressions and words in common usage in English? Powwow, circle the wagons, Indian summer... But I stop short at “tribe”. Robertson describes a writers’ festival he was at recently when someone in the audience asked, “How do I find my tribe?”
“What he meant was, how would he go about finding other writers to form a group with? I texted a friend of mine, another writer who was in the audience, something like, ‘If nobody says anything, I’m going to lose it’.”
I’m going to stick my neck out here, and ask, with all respect, tribe is not used just in the Indigenous context, is it? It is problematic because of the colonial connotations which depict lesser-developed societies or “tribes” as savage, but look it up, and you’ll see that it originates from the Latin word “tribus,” which referred to administrative divisions and voting units in ancient Rome. I get that that’s the problem, the “normalizing” of words in contexts other than in their original ones. But tribe is used in the anthropological sense, too, to explain behaviours in a group of people. And in the poem Abou Ben Adhem with the immortal lines, “May his tribe increase”.
That said, always happy to be corrected as this is, after all, about learning and improving.
52 Ways to Reconcile by David A. Robertson is published by McClelland & Stewart, $25.
Recognize Indigenous innovation: I was astonished to learn goggles, petroleum jelly, syringes and baby bottles (all credited to others) are Indigenous inventions.
Robertson lists so many more ways in which to walk on the path of healing. Including this thought-provoking one.
Honour an Indigenous worldview. Originally he was going to say “adopt” an Indigenous world view, he writes, but it took him about five seconds to see that suggesting you adopt another people’s belief system feels colonial. And so he went with honour an Indigenous world view, instead.
And in that is a profound lesson and perhaps the essence of the book.
Honour the worldview of the people with whom you’re walking on the path to healing.