VIEWPOINTS

A Lone Blackfoot in Unceded Mi’kmaq Territory
— Jason EagleSpeaker

Trigger Warning: I revel in a colonizer’s discomfort.

THERAPIST: “So, what’s the problem?”

ME: “Well, it all started in 1492 …”

Lemme tell you something, my sisters and brothers of another color - it’s hard out here for an “Indigenous/Native/Aboriginal/Redskin/Indian/Merciless Savage.”

As a wee wee wee lad growing up on a remote white-man-made reservation, and the mean white-man-made streets of Calgary, I always felt a wee wee wee bit left out of the white-man-made architecture and design and “beautiful” buildings scene. Actually, I’m lying like a colonizer—I don’t know a #%$&@ thing about white-man-made architecture and design and “beautiful” buildings, nor have I ever really cared.

However, two things are certainly certain: I am a world-renowned guru on my own experiences, and when it comes to my personal perceptions and opinions, I am a #%$&@ badass-politically-(in)correct-idiot-savant.

“Blackfoot? Mi’kmaq? Unceded? Colonizer? 1492? Humor? Daheck does any of that have to do with design and the built environment and missing narratives in predominant recorded histories of architecture? This is not the forum for that!” you impatiently react.

“As a high school dropout—with no degrees, no diplomas and no certificates—I honestly have no clue. What I do know is: if your only response to Indigenous people speaking up is “this is not the forum for that", “you are part of the problem.” I dishonestly respond.

A few breaths/sentences ago, I said I really don’t care about white-man-made architecture and design and “beautiful” buildings, and now that I’ve had a few breaths/sentences to really think my darndest hardest about it all, I care even less.

So, what does an “Indigenous/Native/Aboriginal/Redskin/Indian/Merciless Savage” like me truly care about? I care relentlessly about what lies beneath the white-man-made architecture and designs and “beautiful” buildings. I care relentlessly about the endless beautiful land, the endless beautiful stolen land.

“STOLEN?!? Whatchu talkin’ bout, Willis? I haven’t stolen a #%$&@ thing. How dare you blame me for my ancestors’ misdeeds and ulterior motives!” you angrily overreact, instantly offended.

I roll my eyes, Indigenously, and stoically retort “Well, allow me to retort. To truly be an active ally of Turtle Island’s Indigenous peoples, you must first acknowledge that you build on, live on, work on, learn on, play on, and benefit from, stolen Indigenous land—no matter where you are in quote unquote North America!”

Refuse to acknowledge that? Well then, my completely colonized “friend”, we are done here. Stop reading, close your mind back up, retreat to your comfort zone, your bubble, and continue to blissfully flow slow with the status quo, yo.

Still here? Down with brown? Oozing humility? Eager to be de-colonized? Well ‘den … SKODEN (“let’s go then”) … STOODIS (“let’s do this”) … SKOSTOODISDEN (“??????”) … but be aware, de-colonization hurts, it doesn’t tickle …

Acknowledge this next: there’s no such thing as “Native Culture”, or “Native Themed”, or “Native Inspired”. There are over 1,200 distinct First Nations throughout Turtle Island—each with their own unique cultures, ceremonies, songs, languages, and beliefs. Know which one you are talking about. The differences between First Nations are as distinct as the differences between Caucasian Nations (i.e., Irish and Russian have very few similarities, besides both being Caucasian). You don’t ever hear anyone say “White Culture”, or “White Themed”, or “White Inspired”. You know why? Because that is an ignorant generalization. Understand, man?

If your mind is not blown by now, you’re either: Indigenous (you live the struggle) or sincerely self-educated (thank you) or married-in (lol). Check this out; that’s just the basics. The full story would make Christopher Columbus roll over in his grave—actually he’d claim someone else’s grave and roll over in that.

Us Blackfoot, way way way back in the day—which I’m pretty sure was a Thursday—we were nomadic, we followed the buffalo herds (before your ancestors wiped them out), so we put our braids together with our other Plains Indian cuzzins, thought our darndest hardest, and invented the first mobile homes—a.k.a. the infamous-timeless-often-appropriated tipi.

Time went on, we were starved into submission, we were forced onto reservations, we were forced into residential schools, then my family escaped to Seattle, then I was born, then I was forced to attend Indian Day School (a.k.a. Standoff Elementary, in Southern Alberta), then I escaped, then I grew up in Calgary—and nowadays, the dumbest question I get asked almost daily:

STRANGER: “Do Indians still live in tipis?”

ME: *glares at them, Indigenously*

Growing up in a country that tried to erase your people and “kill the Indian in the child” makes one a tad leery, but you also get a tad used to it. Sometimes, you even kinda forget that you’re surrounded by colonial construction, you’re immersed in aggressive assimilation, your voice is unheard and unvalued, and you’re just a living Hollywood caricature to the masses, relegated to the past. For that fleeting moment, that millisecond, those forgetful times are pure bliss – probably how white man feels.

Three years back I relocated from Alberta to Nova Scotia (for my kids), and when I first arrived, I walked the historic Halifax downtown core. The endless old white-man-made architecture, designs and “beautiful” buildings (and fortresses and endless old graveyards) overwhelmed me. I gently wept. I deeply wept.

Halifax is on unceded Mi’kmaq territory, so I frantically searched for Mi’kmaq representation in all the endless old white-man-made architecture, designs and “beautiful” buildings—alas, there was none to be found. I walked block after block looking for Mi’kmaq murals, statues, art–anything!—but still I came up empty. It was like a white-washed Twilight Zone, where aggressive assimilation prevailed.

I told myself: “Self, you’ve made a huge mistake moving here!”

Then I had what addicts and alcoholics refer to as “a moment of clarity”. I realized that back home in Calgary I had gotten so used to not feeling represented—especially in all the white-man-made architecture, designs and “beautiful” buildings surrounding me—that I stopped noticing and stopped #%$&@ caring (it has gotten better in Calgary in recent years, a bit more representation, thank #%$&@). Something about Halifax awakened those long dormant feelings. Maybe it’s because Mi’kmaq are a first contact tribe and were almost wiped out (like almost all other east coast tribes), so there’s even less reason for mainstream to even acknowledge them.

As we’ve firmly established, I couldn’t care less about white-man-made architecture, designs and “beautiful” buildings,  but, think about this for a second: what would make me care?

In this age of instant access to information in the palm of our hands, ignorance is now a choice.

To me, it’s immediately (and joyfully) obvious when a non-Indigenous person is well aware that they build on, live on, work on, learn on, play on, and benefit from, stolen Indigenous land—and they have rigorously researched who the original inhabitants were, and what happened to them. I can tell in the first few sentences, they have depth in their conversations and their knowledge. They don’t ask basic, easily searchable, (dumb) questions. They know not to ask a Math Professor “What’s 1+1?”

For me to truly care about white-man-made architecture, designs and “beautiful” buildings—and I guarantee 96.9% of all Indigenous people on Turtle Island will agree—the answer is simple:

DO YOUR #%$&@ RESEARCH !!!

Humble yourself, then un-educate yourself, ‘cause unless you attended an Indigenous High School or University, you were “educated” in a biased system. Your formal fundamental education is formally and fundamentally skewed. You must now authentically and sincerely self-educate. The resources are out there, in abundance. They surround you. Many answers are right there in the palm of your hand, right now—search, scroll, search, scroll, repeat. Make this your mantra:

In this age of instant access to information in the palm of our hands, ignorance is now a choice.

Since you build on, live on, work on, learn on, play on, and benefit from, stolen Indigenous land—always be prepared to be called out by Indigenous people. At the very least, we expect you to sincerely and authentically educate yourself, we expect you to know the basics—to know the history of the land you’re on, to know the continually broken treaties, to know the distinct First Nations—anything less is choosing ignorance.

Think of it this way: before you visit/move to a foreign country, you research the local people, the local culture, the local ceremonies, the local songs, the local language, the local beliefs, and more. Do the same here on Turtle Island; it’s the least you can do.

STILL NOT BLOWN AWAY ?!?

Well, check this out: I am a SELF made, SELF driven, SELF confident, SELF empowered, SELF determined, SELF improved, SELF educated, SELF employed, and SELF sufficient Author, Illustrator and Book Publisher. I have published authors from over 275 First Nations. It all started from one single scrapbook I created (over a decade ago) about my family’s horrific experience in the notorious St. Paul’s Residential School in Southern Alberta. It’s called “UNeducation: A Residential School Graphic Novel”. To date, it has sold over 269,000 copies, and is now in libraries, universities, retailers and used in healing initiatives worldwide. It changed my life. It changed my family’s life. Find it, me and more authentically Indigenous books (and apparel) at eaglespeaker.com.

That’s it, colonizer. My limit was 1500 words, but no one #%$&@ limits me!

Jason Eaglespeaker: Only a few short years after the Occupation of Alcatraz, the Wounded Knee Incident and the Shootout at Pine Ridge Reservation, a boy was conceived. Jason EagleSpeaker (Blackfoot and Duwamish) is a bestselling Author, Illustrator and Founder of EagleSpeaker Publishing - who has published new authors from over 275 First Nations!

Find and follow him on Facebook and LinkedIn.

Guest Editor: Sikomh Kokomii (Calling Crane)