Ipperwash Summer Series: Creation and Indigenous Education: Shifting our learning from deficit to coexistence
September 6, 2020, will mark the 25th anniversary of the shooting death of unarmed protestor Anthony “Dudley” George by an Ontario Provincial Police sniper at Ipperwash Beach. The Anishinabek News will feature an Ipperwash Summer Series to highlight the history, trauma, aftermath, and key recommendations from the 2007 Report of the Ipperwash Inquiry. First Nations in Ontario understood that the Inquiry would not provide all of the answers or solutions, but would be a step forward in building a respectful government-to-government relationship.
For information on the 2007 Report of the Ipperwash Inquiry, please visit: http://www.attorneygeneral.jus.gov.on.ca/inquiries/ipperwash/closing_submissions/index.html
By Justin Rhoden
My name is Justin and I am an immigrant student from Jamaica who moved to Ontario four years ago to attend university. I live and study in Toronto, as a result of Treaty 13. I am a Treaty person. I have always had a burning interest in understanding the social world around me, and the injustices people face every day. Because of this passion, I enrolled in a Critical International Development Studies program at the University of Toronto Scarborough.
At the end of my second year, I attended a workshop on campus. Like many events I attended, I initially had no idea what was going on but stopped by for the free food. At the front of the room, the guest speaker, a man by the name of Isaac Murdoch, began to introduce himself in his native tongue and then in English. I quickly realized he was an Indigenous (Anishinaabe) speaker, so I decided to stay and listen.
Throughout his speech, I felt more and more outraged by the realities he described. He discussed communities without running water, Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls, the racism, the climate crisis, the land grabs— yes, in present-day Canada. After he discussed this unnatural suffering experienced by Indigenous communities, he concluded by offering a way forward. He urged that what is necessary for social change is a better understanding between Indigenous and non-Indigenous peoples to achieve mutual support, unity, justice, and respect in solidarity.
I have and continue to reflect on his call for action: How do I understand Indigenous Peoples? How do I practice solidarity with them?
In my earlier semesters, much of what I learn and unlearn about Indigenous Peoples was at the university. Although my classes were never entirely about Indigenous Peoples, their marginalization was always a reoccurring theme in my courses. For example, if we examined the climate crises, discussing the disproportionate impact it will have on different Indigenous communities was necessary.
There was simply no discussion of crises and injustices without thinking about how it affects Indigenous communities. Many of my professors were persistent in ensuring this. My course readings often featured sections from the Truth and Reconciliation Commission designed to inform Canadians about Canada’s Indian Residential School system, the severe intergenerational impacts, and Canada’s commitment to nurturing “right relations.”
These interactions were the extent of my Indigenous education.
The dynamics in the classrooms taught me that it was necessary to acknowledge the inequalities Indigenous communities’ experience. In response, I tried to practice this by creating spaces in my assignments, and my everyday conversations with friends and family to discuss these atrocities.
Despite all of this, I found myself questioning my allyship. The challenges we often discuss are pressing. They are widespread, structural, and sometimes discouraging. I wanted to help, but I could not understand how a student like myself could make any meaningful impact.
Where do I even start?
My doubts and uncertainties about my allyship led me to explore more. I enrolled in an Indigenous Environmental Knowledge course, which focussed entirely on using Indigenous Knowledge and perspectives. I thought this context would provide me with a greater understanding of what it means to be an ally to Indigenous communities by immersing myself in their Knowledge.
Unexpectedly, my professor went weeks without mentioning the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, racism, sexism, patriarchy, colonialism, or any other forms of colonial violence. Instead, she shared with us some Creation stories. For the first two weeks, we examined the world from Indigenous worldviews: Sky Woman, The Seven Fires of Creation, The Great Flood, and my favourite, The Brave Muskrat.
The entire course followed a timeline spanning from Creation to present-day Canada and Indigenous communities.
The first few weeks was an interactive process of orienting ourselves to Indigenous Peoples through the Knowledge embedded in their Creation stories and worldviews. This journey was an eye-opening experience. It was the beginning of understanding Indigenous communities within a context of Knowledge and histories from time immemorial.
These classes were my first time learning about Indigenous Peoples outside of a colonial context. Indigenous perspectives in other courses were often only discussed concerning their marginalization in Canada. High suicide rates, lack of material resources, high incarceration rates, low educational attainments, racially-biased police profiling, and the list seems to go on forever.
These separate engagements in my various courses constructed my initial orientation to Indigenous Peoples. I frequently learned about their marginalization, and without realizing, I operated as if that is all they are: marginalized.
Without providing students with the appropriate holistic context, university curriculums instill inappropriate, ahistorical, and deficit perceptions of Indigenous Peoples.
I continue to unlearn these misconceptions to engage meaningfully with Indigenous communities. It is hard; it is a constant process of personal and collective reflection to recognize the biases that shape not only the societal structures around me but also myself. Fortunately, my Indigenous education rooted in Indigenous worldviews and histories provides the appropriate tools to reflect and engage critically and respectfully.
I believe providing all students with this context will promote authentic reflections of our communities and our positionalities to guide how we activate our agency in solidarity. Moving beyond colonial rhetoric about Indigenous Peoples begins to weave a tapestry more reflective of Indigenous communities in which students can understand the rich Knowledge these communities embody and its essential value in interpreting and shaping our collective realities.
This result has been the case for me. Now, when I think about the climate crisis, I cannot help but reflect on Robin Kimmerer’s The Honorable Harvest. I immediately consider the principles and values she discusses and the implications for environmental protection, conservation, and governance. In doing this, I can determine how I use my agency as a student, a voter, a consumer, an advocate, an immigrant, and a Treaty person in solidarity.
Isaac Murdoch’s call to action resonates with me because of the significant influence my different understandings of Indigenous Peoples have on what I practice as an ally.
Like myself, many students attend universities across Canada. In these spaces, our education will collectively shape the solidarity non-Indigenous communities’ practice with Indigenous communities. As institutions, there is a profound opportunity to nurture and sustain this solidarity through holistic education, rooted in genuine engagement with Indigenous People.
There is also a pervasive opportunity to hinder this form of solidarity by limiting students’ understanding of Indigenous Peoples through their education. The latter, whether intentional or not, is violent and a threat to the solidarity we need. University curriculums must be designed carefully and purposefully to reflect the holistic context of Indigenous Peoples and our coexistent relationships.