Sitting In The Circle
While family and friends head back to their vehicles my daughter and I stay in the circle. I try to pull her away but we only make it to the craft stalls before thumping drums, rainbows of colourful clothing and swirling figures in the circle draw her back.
Making myself content to watch the performance with her, we sit cross-legged on the grass along the outer edge of the circle, under hot sun and clear blue skies. Families congregate, their kids running around us while others, like my daughter, sit captivated by the performance of a Chief in feather headdress, dancing and drumming to the beat of his music.
A circle is a key symbol in Indigenous culture with varied meanings specific to the people and their communities. Generally, it represents strength, unity and balance. It is timeless with no beginning and no ending. It is symbolic of equality, and signifies family ties, closeness and protection. (http://www.dilico.com/upload/documents/the-circle.pdf)
It is the largest circle I have sat in since elementary school.
I feel my daughter tug my sleeve. She stands, lifts her arms to the cloudless sky and begins to bounce around. “Mommy dance,” she urgently pleads, trying to pull me up and closer to the circle’s center. Nope! Not happening little lady.
At two and half years she can barely dress herself, yet she is hell-bent to dance with the man in the feather headdress. When the drumming and dancing is over she grabs my hand and makes a beeline for him while I tag along reluctantly. I tell him apologetically, “my daughter wants to say hello.” He extends his hand to her, this giant with painted face in bright native costume and a mass of huge feathers on his head that looks close to toppling him over. Without hesitation, she wraps her little fingers around his, shakes them and giggles.
I often shared this story of my daughter as a funny showcase of her persistence and curiosity. We were camping at a State Park and visited the First Nations Pow-wow for the afternoon. For Indigenous, a Pow-wow is a place to share traditional food, arts and crafts, and pride in their culture. (https://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/powwows-editorial)
“They were dancing in colourful costumes, jumping and swirling to the beat of drums, and she was so intent on dancing with the Chief that she refused to leave,” I would tell them. “So funny!”
The Chief was not wearing a costume though. It is his regalia, which is unique and sacred to him. Pow-wow clothing and accessories are created with great care and attention, and hold deep meaning and spiritual significance to the dancer. (https://www.ictinc.ca/blog/what-to-call-ceremonial-wear)
I recall that day a year and a half later when I find myself in another circle.
I had started a new job in an educational setting and one of my responsibilities was to participate in and help organize an Indigenous Learning Circle (the “Circle”). The Circle was led by an Elder with support staff and faculty in attendance to explore issues shaping the experience of Indigenous students.
Being new, I was coming in late to the ritual, the third of four monthly Circles. I was expecting a checklist, a course outline, or something to fit into my training and facilitation schema. I realized soon it was much more than that.
In a quiet voice, the Elder began, “Think about the sounds and movement of children. Think of your children. Now imagine one morning you wake up and there are no children playing or laughing in your community again – because they have all been taken away. By strangers. Imagine the silence.” She shares the history of the Sixties Scoop.
I bit my tongue to stop myself from crying.
What was this? How could I not have heard about the Sixties Scoop until now? Is it my fault for not educating myself? Is it the fault of the education system? Or did I just miss that lesson (like I’m sure I missed math fractions)? Yes, surely that is it – I just missed it.
Still, how was it possible that Indigenous children were taken from their families and communities for placement in foster homes or adoption? For over 30 years? Why? And yet here was an Elder who was one of those children. And next to her, her student ska’be (‘helper’ in Annishanabee language) is much younger but also a witness to that time.
I was appalled. To not know was embarrassing and unacceptable to me. And yet, I learned that is what was supposed to have happened. The not telling, the unknowing, was an act of colonization. We still aren’t supposed to know it’s happening today in our communities – where newborns are taken from their mother in the hospital, and countless Indigenous children are ripped from their families and now make up a hugely over-represented percentage of the foster care system. Many taken for no other reason other than they are Indigenous and need “help” through solutions defined by colonial perspective, privilege and bias.
It’s the same for residential schools. 54 percent of Canadians age 35-54 did not learn about residential schools in any classroom; 61 percent of those 55 and over. (Insights West) And when it was taught it was often discussed in a positive light. “Instead of isolation and neglect of the past, a free and equal chance with children in urban centres”. (National Observer)
The mood in the Circle was heavy, and uplifting, as we learned more about Indigenous ways of knowing, where making sense of the world is embedded in community practice, rituals and relationships.
I learned about Two-Eyed Seeing. Mi’kmaw Elder Albert Marshall explains that Two-Eyed Seeing refers to “the learning to see from one eye with the strengths of, or the best in, Indigenous knowledge and ways of knowing, and from the other eye with the strengths of, or best in, Western ways of knowing, but most importantly, learning to use both eyes together for the benefit of all.” It’s about “fine tuning your mind into different places at once, you are always looking for another perspective and better way of doing things.” (Integrative Science) This perspective was introduced to the Circle by the Elder, who showed us a captivating video by poet laureate Rebecca Thomas.
My Two Eyes are always developing as I engage with the Circle Elder. After years of work in a corporate job I am attached to structure, where meeting agendas and project plans are my compass for success. I am so ingrained in my ways that I once found myself rushing the Elder at a conference being hosted by another educational institution. At the time we were in the middle of visiting the Indigenous Centre and Elder there. We were set to present soon and, although we had plenty of time, in my intense desire to arrive early to prepare, I eagerly kept glancing at my watch. Relationships were key and time was less important. It hit me as we headed to our session.
My experience in the Circle has heightened my awareness to Indigenous Ways of Knowing and Being. As the Circle Elder is blending to meet the language and practices of the institution, I am learning about how the Indigenous perspective is holistic, and recognizes the interconnectedness of the whole person (physical, emotional, spiritual, and intellectual) to the land and in relation to others. (Pulling Together) After one meeting I stayed behind in the Indigenous lounge where I was given a coloring book and pencil crayons. I couldn’t remember the last time I hadn’t rushed away from a meeting.
The Circle also led me to reflect more on my interactions with people, a past relationship and how a slip of the tongue was proof of complete blindness to my privilege.
More than ever, I recognize that I have been witness to discrimination of Indigenous Peoples. Even from those closest to me. “They brought it on themselves”…. “They waste our tax paying dollars”… “Why can’t they just get over it?” I felt anger towards these comments but couldn’t explain why. So I didn’t think about it too much, my philosophy being to pick my battles and not get drawn into areas of discussion I know little about. Now I find myself wanting to say more, always searching for the right words to mute my anger but amplify my voice.
When I was in university I dated a boy from Labrador who was Métis. He was drawn to music, reflective, laid back, and easy to please. I thought it was great he could attend university for free. I didn’t think too much about his white dad who had little do to with him, but took care of his other white family. I was drawn to this boy’s quiet soul, yet felt discontent with his lack of confidence and inner struggles. I could never understand why such an attractive, smart, funny, musical, kind person never felt like he fit in. Maybe it had nothing to do with his heritage; maybe it did. I will never know because I never asked him about his Métis background and never did he talk about it.
How could I be in a relationship with someone for three years and not really know who they are? Was I just too young to consider those things? Maybe. Was I ignorant? Probably. Uneducated? Definitely. But twenty years later? To not know Indigenous history and to only know, and believe, the one story I had always heard through main stream media?
Very early in my new job I attended a conference and sat in a short session focused on truth and reconciliation. I was like a fish out of water. As the presenter spoke I looked around the room. Were they understanding this? It was like listening to a different language. What was reconciliation? What was my privilege? What was colonization? The presenter was sharing her thesis and later that night at a social event I told her I didn’t understand anything she said.
I meant it as self-deprecating humor. She replied, “I’m sorry to hear that.”
After that, I hailed a taxi and as I sat in the back seat I felt heavy shame, but didn’t quite understand why. Now I know.
I see now how strongly my privilege was ingrained and how blind I was to it.
Since my experience in the Indigenous Learning Circle I have reflected back to moments in my life where I was blinded to Indigenous culture and history. I had to wonder. Do I just treat all people as being the same? Yes. Was that wrong? When it comes to Indigenous Peoples – yes.
What I was open to was multiculturalism. But in focusing on that larger definition I was not addressing the injustices, racism and discrimination to which Indigenous Peoples have been subjected. (Pulling Together). Now I am on my own journey towards decolonization; to acknowledge the truth and consequences of colonization on Indigenous Peoples, and my role in that as a settler.
There are no words to fully describe the Circle experience.
I just know that my new knowledge from it has made me question who I am, what I stand for and has ignited my own personal decolonization. I am learning so I can speak the truth, the facts, and debunk the myths I have been fed and then swallow.
I have always had a quieter voice, where its loudness is directly correlated to my understanding of an issue. But I see that non-Indigenous people have to raise their voices, to bring to light the racism and discrimination that is spewed towards Indigenous Peoples. It is my responsibility as a settler to raise my voice. I want to be like my daughter, who was open, vocal, and wanted to ingrain herself within and dance in the circle on that beautiful sunny day.
The more I’m in the Circle, the more I understand, the more I learn about who I am, and who I want to be. I may not be dancing yet. But I’m listening, learning, reflecting, and understanding. I’m finding my voice. It’s quiet. But, like the thumping drums in that summertime circle, I am finding ways to make it echo.
References:
http://www.dilico.com/upload/documents/the-circle.pdf
https://www.cbc.ca/kidscbc2/the-feed/do-you-know-what-regalia-is
http://www.integrativescience.ca/Principles/TwoEyedSeeing/
https://www.nationalobserver.com/2017/11/23/analysis/poll-reveals-canadians-view-residential-schools
https://www.ictinc.ca/blog/insight-on-10-myths-about-indigenous-peoples
https://insightswest.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/11/ResidentialSchools_Tables.pdf
Open Text BC – Indigenous Ways of Knowing and Being
You May Also Like
The ‘Agony’ of Packing School Lunches – and Strategies to Making it Bearable
I Tuck You Into Bed
