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Title: Settlers on the Red Road Author: Tawinikay Date: April 12, 2021Author Language: en Topics: indigenous anarchism Source: Retrieved on 2021-04-22 from https://north-shore.info/2021/04/12/settlers-on-the-red-road-a-conversation-on-indigeneity-belonging-and-responsibility/
This zine is not going to be comfortable for some people to read. It is
likely to personally challenge a few of you out there who may yourself
be dipping a toe in the pond of indigeneity, trying it out to see how it
feels. This zine is not going to beat around the bush, because the bush
has been thoroughly beaten around.
This is the start of a larger discussion on indigeneity, belonging, and
responsibility in our anarchist community. But there is something here
for everyone, even if you don’t call yourself an anarchist. At the time
of it’s writing, it is already long overdue. In the past two years in
southern Ontario, there have been multiple incidents of settlers
claiming indigeneity within our intersecting anarchist circles,
incidents which caused great harm to relationship and undermined
solidarity with Indigenous communities. In Quebec, the rise of the
“Eastern Métis” threatens to bleed over into radical spaces. In this era
of state-sponsored reconciliation, the line between settlers and Indians
is being purposefully blurred by Canada in an attempt to gently complete
the assimilation initiated long ago and, try as anarchists might to keep
ourselves separate, the dominant culture has a way of creeping in.
This is not a defense of identity. In fact, it will be a critique of
identity in many ways, particularly of the way we drape identities over
ourselves to give us a purpose for fighting injustice. A rail against
the culture of identity that breaks people into hard categories and
fuels each of our dark indulgent desires to join the ranks of the
oppressed instead of being satisfied to fight for the dignity of all
living things from wherever we happen to stand. But it will also be a
critique of individuals and their choices, and it will urge each one of
you to think not only about your potential complicity in trying on
indigeneity but in allowing your friends and comrades to do so as well.
I long for a world in which the difference between settler and
Indigenous communities is one of custom and not of power. But we do not
live in that world and all alive today are unlikely to see it. Our
reality consists of a colonial occupying state, armed with extraordinary
force, urging a reconcilatory way forward while it simultaneously
invades the last shreds of semi-autonomous Indigenous territory within
it’s borders at gunpoint. It is still important to distinguish between
oppressed and oppressor; it is still important to know to who wields
violence in self-defense.
It matters when settlers decide that a distant Indigenous ancestor, or a
DNA test, or affinity, or a “feeling” makes them Indigenous. I argue
that race-shifting is a vehicle ripe for manipulation and an incredible
opportunity to erode the legitimacy of Indigenous claims to land and
liberation. And it is important to understand that this IS happening. It
is possible that within your circles, you will find at least one person
who is actively developing the confidence to start claiming indigeneity,
publicly or privately. And around that person you will find a circle of
settlers who feel too uncomfortable to challenge their “Indigenous”
friend about their race-shifting identity.
They have good reason to be afraid. It is possible that if they refuse
to support their comrade in their indigeneity, they will be accused of
using blood quantum to discredit their “Indigenous” friend, placing them
in a long line of colonizers who have tried to erase Indians by simply
claiming they no longer exist. And more likely, they won’t understand
how to argue back that point because they don’t actually have a deep
understanding of the concepts of blood quantum or kinship or
indigeneity. This is a problem in an of itself. This is why I am writing
this zine. Settlers generally, and anarchists specifically, need to be
more comfortable talking about these things amongst themselves. In the
absence of a competent shared knowledge, it is time and time again left
up to Indigenous communities – mostly women and Two-Spirits – to process
these conflicts as they arise and to educate the settlers around them.
We need to talk about what is happening. We need to develop our own
critique against this Native homeopathy bullshit or risk losing the very
real bonds of solidarity forged between anarchists and Indigenous
resistors across Turtle Island over the last decades. This is not to say
that anarchists have not fucked things up and lost relationships in
other ways: by swooping in and ditching early, by not repping their own
politics, by breathing way too much air, or simply not knowing much
about the history of this land. They definitely have. But having to add
“letting their friends play Indian” to that list feels like a real
shame. Of all the settlers here on Turtle Island, anarchists have the
most to offer Indigenous struggle and the closest shared vision of a
decolonial future. I say this as both a Michif halfbreed and an
anarchist.
Settlers claiming Indigenous identity is not a new thing. Nor is the
critique of it, which has been written about by others before me. There
are settlers with no blood lineage or connection to Indigenous
communities who simply say they “feel Indigenous” psychically or
metaphysically or some nonsense. There are settlers who feel like they
have spent so much time in Indigenous communities that they “become”
Indigenous or claim adoption into those communities (these are the
Joseph Boydens of the world). There are those who claim a distant and
unknown ancestor through DNA testing or shoddy genealogy work (the
Elizabeth Warrens and Michelle Latimers). There are those with a family
story about a Indigenous ancestor. So common is this phenomenon that
there has long been a term for it: the Indian grandmother complex. And
there are also those who have a bit more information about their family
history. Maybe they have a known Indigenous ancestor three or four
generations back, giving them the false confidence to assume the
identity of that ancestor and centralize it in their life while
deprioritizing their much more real and tangible connections to their
settler community. There are even settlers who slowly take on the
symbols of indigeneity, eventually arriving to a place where most people
they meet simply assume they are Native and they choose not to correct
them, coming to exist in a personal mythology around their pretend
indianness. In the last year, I have come face-to-face with almost every
one of these variations. These settlers are most often white people,
though not always. Though each of these claims differ from the others,
they exist in the same continuum of violence.
That continuum has been best defined in Eve Tuck & Yang’s pivotal text
Decolonization is Not A Metaphor. I’m not going to expand on their
points here, look it up. The important note to hit is that these actions
by non-Natives all represent a “settler move to innocence”. I don’t
believe that I am on the same page, politically, with Tuck & Yang, but
the basic premise of their piece is something I accept.
For settlers actively engaged in struggle, who share a vision of the
future that best aligns with Indigenous thought and runs counter to the
settler ideologies of their parents, the idea that they can escape
settlerism is very appealing. It feels uncomfortable to want to fight
for the land and water where you live, while also having to acknowledge
that it is not yours at all. The opportunity to stand on the frontlines
with your native comrades, not as a supporter, but as an equal part of
the resistance feels deeply affirming. And being a white settler in
solidarity sometimes means humbling yourself, decentering your opinions,
and holding the colonial rage of your Indigenous comrades with grace.
This is difficult and often produces hard and complicated feelings for
people. The opportunity to cast that responsibility aside provides a
tempting relief from settlerism and whiteness. But –
By telling yourself that you are Indigenous, you are giving yourself the
right to feel entitled to this land. You are letting yourself alleviate
some of the guilt you carry for your family’s participation in
colonization. By telling Indigenous people that you are Indigenous, you
are relieving yourself of some of the accountability you have to them.
By telling other settlers that you are Indigenous, you are relieving
yourself of some of the work you share with them.
I also understand that indigeneity holds the promise of a spirituality
lost to white settlers nearly a thousand years ago during some of the
earliest rounds of colonization that were between European societies. I
think the devastation of that ancestrally is very real. And I believe
that, as humans, we have a need to feel deeply connected to the world
around us. Since settlers now live here on this land, it makes sense
that some of them would crave a deeper connection to it. I personally
feel like part of each settler’s decolonial work is to truly build their
own relationship with this land and shatter their own ancestral
alienation. But that connection needs to be hard won and honest and
novel, and it can’t come from appropriating the traditions and
identities of Indigenous people.
I believe connecting with our ancestors can be grounding and healing,
and it can break down the individualist indoctrination most all of us
have gone through by situating us in a long lineage of those who came
before and those who come after. Each of our own family histories tell
us about the reasons things are the way they are now. Instead of just
relying on the stories of a few dead white men, we can decentralize the
stories of our communities. Knowing where we come from provides us with
an anchor in this very complicated and scary world and it helps us to
identify our responsibilities. It may be that you come from a long line
of freedom fighters and that proud legacy keeps your fires stoked in
this protracted social war. Or it might be that you come from a long
line of fascists and colonizers and you are bestowed with the
opportunity to be the generation that branches off towards a life of
liberation.
The process of meeting our ancestors makes us each historians who have
an opportunity to interpret the information we find and weave a story
based on birth certificates and travel documents and funerals. This
responsibility needs to be taken seriously and it takes a great deal of
humility and honesty. It is up to us to contextualize race and class and
gender in a way that positions us accurately and fairly in the world
today, because identities are extremely loaded and come with advantages
that can – in the right context – grant us material benefit, rights,
access, and privilege. Especially when those identities are not written
on our skin and are things that we can step in and out of with ease. In
many other communities, being Indigenous does not come with social
advantage. This is why generations of Indigenous people, including my
family, sometimes made the choice to pass themselves off as settlers.
But in our anarchist/leftist communities, being Indigenous often grants
you a certain honour and respect. This, coupled with the growing
(tokenistic) appreciation of Indigenous culture in Canadian society at
large, presents a tempting set of reasons for people to try to claim
Indigenous ancestry.
When settlers find Indigenous ancestry in their family, it is a very
respectful thing to do to honour the story of that person and consider
it a responsibility to stand in solidarity with their struggle. But if
that ancestor is not connected to your family in any way other than
blood, it is not okay to assume their identity as your own. It does
nothing to uplift the struggle of that person and it undermines
Indigenous sovereignty in a way that perpetuates colonial violence
today.
Adopting yourself into an Indigenous community that you have only a
blood connection with but no kinship ties to serves the blood quantum
goals of the state. It says, blood (the way the state defines membership
in a community) is enough and kinship (the way Indigenous people define
membership) doesn’t matter.
It dissolves the lines that Indigenous people draw to define their
communities, which makes it harder for them to fight for land and
reparations based on who has been wronged and who carries the burden to
right the wrong. In another time and place where there wasn’t a massive
imbalance of power and a grave injustice to be righted, it might not be
so harmful to let the boundaries around community waver, but right now
it is.
Make no mistake about it, blood quantum is a tool of state violence. It
has been used to disenfranchise First Nations, Inuit, and MĂ©tis people
for hundreds of years. In the US, Natives have status cards that list
their percentage of Indigenous blood. Vicious and self-serving state
structures govern who no longer counts as Indigenous because their blood
is no longer pure. But these constructs of mathematical genetics are
imaginary. Contrary to what eugenics-hungry rationalists might believe,
genetics do not pass down in easy fractions and race is not biological.
Nor is there any truly accurate way to map your racial genetics from a
swab of your cheek, leading some scientists to issue warnings to
unwitting customers of DNA tests that the practice can amount to little
more than “genetic astrology”.
The one-drop rule is the racist theory behind the pseudoscience of blood
quantum. When used against Black people in the colonies, the one-drop
rule served to govern that even “one drop” of Black blood in a white
person made them Black. The colonial mentality ruled that Black people
were so animal, so depraved, that any amount of Blackness in a person
made them less than human. Plus, they needed more slaves so there was a
benefit to counting as many people as possible as Black. In regards to
Indians, the rule was generally reversed. To take the land, settlers
needed to erase Indigenous title, and an easy way to do that was to say
that only “true Indians” had a valid claim. If you can say there are no
more Natives left, then you rightfully own the land. Essentially,
whichever way white supremacy needs the one-drop rule to work is how it
works.
Governments invented “status” because they needed a way to quantify and
control Indigenous people based on these ideas. Colonial legislation
serves the purpose of creating the categories of Indian and Canadian and
then slowly assimilating the Indians into the Canadians until they can
complete the colonization of the Americas. The Gradual Civilization Act
of 1857 was the first such document and it allowed for Indigenous
peoples to voluntarily give up status to receive private land or to
vote. Only one Native ever partook. So the Indian Act was created in
1876 with mechanisms to take their status from them against their will.
To this day, it remains a vital tool in the domination of Indigenous
people in Canada. Native people here have lost status because they were
children of even just two generations of mixed-race unions. The “double
mother” rule said that if your mother and grandmother did not qualify
for status, then you lost yours on your 21^(st) birthday. Yet there were
many reasons that Indigenous folks, women in particular, lost status
that weren’t attached to blood quantum at all. Up until 1961, Indigenous
people who graduated from university had to give up status. Indigenous
women who married settlers, or who married a status man but became a
widow, lost their status automatically. The gendered discrimination over
status was “revoked” in 1985 but much of the damage had already been
done.
It has been obvious from the beginning that people didn’t become Indians
when they gained status and they didn’t stop being Indians when they
lost it. It is an unfortunate truth that some of this logic has been
internalized by Indigenous nations and some here in Canada and in the US
will kick out their own members for falling under “25% Native”. But for
as long as status and the pseudoscience of blood quantum have existed
there have been those fighting against it. Arguments made by Indigenous
people against blood quantum were meant to keep close Indigenous
relatives who were cut out of community by the state. So that
grandchildren of the “double mother rule” were still part of their
Native community if they lived there in the culture and shared kinship
relations. It is a beautiful resistance. To deny the state’s ability to
determine for your community who belongs and who doesn’t is an act of
decolonization.
However, it’s not as simple as saying that it’s wrong to disallow the
families of settler-Indigenous marriages to live on the reservation. The
gradual inclusion of white spouses over time could lead to a situation
where settler spouses make up a large part of the population. Does that
mean they have the right to be represented on Council? What about the
shortage of land? Indian reserves only make up 0.02% of “Canadian”
territory. This continues to be a real problem. With the shifting
political landscape of Canada, we are now needing to defend ourselves
against a new intrusion.
The original theories on blood quantum were established at a time when
being anything but white was shameful. Canada is currently undergoing a
complete paradigm shift in terms of their national story. State-led
reconciliation is attempting to erase the past injustices of colonialism
and is urging Canadians to see the Natives of this land as a proud,
noble people that are part of Canadian multiculturalism. There have
always been summer camps where white kids play Indian and there have
always been colonial tales of frontiersmen who dance with wolves, but we
are witnessing a wave of indigenous romanticization unseen in history.
Our peers are growing up as the first or second generation where
settlers are becoming proud to claim “Indian heritage”. And as such –
because it now suits settlers – the rules of blood quantum are being
reversed. It seems now settlers agree that one drop of Native blood
makes you an Indian.
From a Native perspective, however, the argument remains simple:
Indigenous people never willingly judged membership in our nations based
on blood, but by kinship, and only we have the legitimacy to decide who
belongs to us and who doesn’t.
Placeless and often unwanted, the children of French fur traders and
Native women called themselves the Bois-Brûlés (later adopting the name,
MĂ©tis). A strong bond led them to form their own communities with their
own language, governance, and custom, with a motherland in the Red River
region of current-day Manitoba. They had complex kinship, political, and
trade relations with the Cree, the Saulteaux, the Assiniboine, and at
times the Iroquois. Yet, the government opportunistically denied them
status, reservation land, or basic human dignity for not being “Indian
enough.” It is likely this denial of land and recognition was a
punishment by the Canadian state for their armed resistance in 1885,
given that Chris Andersen – in his book Métis – has demonstrated that
other federally-recognized Native nations along the fur routes were of
comparably mixed descent. They fought for years alongside other
non-status Indians for recognition. Métis Nation organizations – formed
to advocate for rights from the state – first opened up for membership
in the 60s. Immediately, they were flooded with a barrage of people
claiming citizenship from all over. Some people who applied for
citizenship were Natives who lost status from their own communities for
any number of Indian Act reasons and were trying to regain state
legitimacy. A lot of people were settlers who had one or more Indigenous
ancestors.
This occurred because a great majority of people saw (and continue to
see) MĂ©tis identity as one of mixed blood, instead of a political
community of Indigenous people who were born, lived, fought, and died
together in kinship on the Prairies. MĂ©tis organizations have spent the
last 40 years grappling with this issue and trying to determine who is
Métis and who is not. They’ve done a generally dismal job and, while I
am a member of one such organization, it is my belief that their
existence does more harm than good. They cater to the Canadian
government when it needs token Native support; they sign pipeline deals
through lands they have no claim to; and they perpetuate forms of
democracy, nationalism, and statehood that I feel are counter to the aim
of dismantling colonial-capitalism.
MĂ©tis Nation formation led to a huge backlash by First Nations people
who saw MĂ©tis identity as a backdoor for settlers to flood into
indigeneity. While some of the criticism was akin to lateral violence,
it was also really legitimate. Because the Canadian appetite leaves us
fighting for scraps. Because many, many white settlers call themselves
MĂ©tis illegitimately. And because Indigenous people have never governed
belonging and membership based on blood alone.
The fact of the matter is, if all settlers who had a blood connection to
an Indigenous person were considered Indigenous, it would make the
category meaningless. Settlers and Native folks have been intermarrying
for as long as settlers have been here. Some studies show that up to 40%
of francophones in Quebec have an Indigenous ancestor. What would happen
to Indigenous claim to land if all of those settlers began demanding to
be included as Native people?
Ah! But we don’t need to imagine it, because it’s already happening.
There is a sizable movement in QC of white settlers who have formed
their own “Métis” organizations to claim Indigenous heritage in order to
gain rights from the state. A lot of those people base their indigeneity
on ancestors from the 1700s, but quite a few of them have a relation in
the last five generations of their family. I’m not going to get into the
absolute fuckery of what those people are doing and why (go read Darryl
Leroux’s many critiques if you need to know more) but their selfish
actions have severely undermined both the real title MĂ©tis people have
to indigeneity, and in turn, the concept of indigeneity entirely. While
this is a fairly extreme example of Native appropriation, it is
important to look directly at it. The phenomenon of settlers trying to
edge their way into indigeneity based on distant ancestry has had real
and lasting impacts on historic MĂ©tis communities, further robbing them
of the recognition they deserve as a real people on the losing end of
colonialism.
And I don’t mean that the appropriation by settlers is going to sabotage
their process of recognition by the state, because FUCK recognition by
the state. As anarchists, we need to realize that white folks claiming
Native casts doubt on the indigeneity of MĂ©tis and other mixed-blood
Native people, which creates chasms between them and First Nations on
the front lines of struggle.
So if blood alone doesn’t make you Native, then what does? What came out
of the very messy and public dialogues on the Indian Act and status and
MĂ©tis community were well defined arguments explaining that identity is
multifaceted and that blood connection is but one of many markers that
determine membership in a community. More important than how much
“Indian blood” you have running through your veins is your connection to
a community to which you are accountable. This means that your family
has a history with a community and relationships that are meaningful and
reciprocal. It is important because there are folks who are adopted into
communities and have no blood relation but are nonetheless considered a
full and welcome member. Accountability in that relationship means you
are openly claiming your community and allow the other members the
opportunity to hold your actions and words up to the values of that
community.
The notion of accountability is tied to the more controversial idea that
your community needs to claim you. This standard gets complicated for a
lot of folks because some people are kicked out of their communities,
some people lose connection to their communities through state removal,
and a variety of other factors (like drug addiction) could mean that
people in that community don’t have relationships with you anymore. This
is a hard reality for some to accept, but it doesn’t make it less
meaningful. When you lose ties to a community over your lifetime or over
many generations, you do lose membership in that community in a real
way. It’s possible to rebuild those connections, but it’s also important
to step back and evaluate whether or not it is appropriate for you to do
so. Our communities often reveal themselves to us if we take a minute to
look at our existing strong and reciprocal relationships.
These webs of relationships are what Indigenous people call kinship. And
they have been more important to our understanding of community than
blood ever has been.
In addition to the main questions of:
“Who are you accountable to?” and
“Does the community you claim also claim you?”
It is important to explore the questions of:
“Do you have meaningful relationships with people in that community?”
“Do you have a family history interwoven with the families of that
community?”
“Do you share a connection to a common land base?”
“Were you raised with or close to the traditions of that community?”
“Do you, or people in your family, speak the language of that
community?”
“Do you have shared experiences with the members of that community?”
“Do you share struggle with that community?”
All of the answers to these questions together organically form a larger
and more nuanced picture than blood quantum. Which is why in the last
few decades, Indigenous activists have been fighting to diminish the
worth of blood alone in claiming a connection to a community or
identity. The rise of genetic testing and sites like ancestry.com have
led to a large number of settlers “realizing” they are actually part
Indigenous, some who then feel as though they should be included in a
community they have never really been a part of.
If a child with Indigenous parents is stolen by CAS and raised with
white people, it might seem as though the strong blood connection to
indigeneity is all they have. Yet, that wouldn’t really be true. Because
already they share a personal story of race-based state oppression, plus
the histories of their immediate family (which are part of their story)
are connected to stories of other Indigenous people and place. Blood
might be a part of their claim to community, and so it’s not completely
irrelevant, but it’s the complicated interplay of a variety of factors –
blood, kinship, language, experience – that come together to create an
identity and belonging in a community.
When you tell another Indigenous person that you’re Native, often the
first question out of their mouth is “from where?” Maybe even “who are
your parents? Or “lemme guess, Sturgeon Clan?” This is a pretty widely
accepted line of questioning and it’s not considered rude, because
kinship and ties to land are a huge part of how we know each other and
build relationships. Complex systems of kinship existed in all Native
communities on Turtle Island. Family lineages combined to form clan
systems which combined to form nations and the governance systems
depended on these interconnected forms of communication and
accountability. Were colonization not so successful, settlers touting
indigeneity just wouldn’t be a problem, because it would be easy to
trace the kinship ties of that person and weed out false claims. The
power of the state, however, relies on concentrating authority and
breeding loyalty to an institutionalized political body, and it is in
its best interest to undermine and destroy allegiance to any
decentralized systems. The state has tried to destroy clan governance
from the first days of colonization. Inventing the racist ideology of
blood quantum and insisting Indians be defined by their DNA instead of
their kinship ties is another tactic to disrupt the autonomy of
Indigenous people.
It is a very uncomfortable position to be at once an anarchist, a
freedom fighter, and also part of an oppressor class. On the internet,
identity is a simple category, black and white (so to speak). But in
real life, identity is nuanced and slippery. It makes it so that we are
often disadvantaged and privileged at the same time. We owe it to
ourselves and our community to act with integrity, to represent
ourselves accurately and honestly, and to not try to jostle for position
with our friends.
Anarchists look to the roots. It’s not enough to say the problem lies in
individuals who make ego-driven choices. This is not only about
individuals doing independently shitty things, it’s also an issue of
politics. The adoption of a politics of identity helped to put words to
the centuries of degradation and devaluation faced by women, queers,
BIPOC, and disabled folks. Oppression that often felt invisible. Yet, it
was too easily co-opted by the state and capital and too easily divorced
from the material struggle for a radically different world. It is now
wholly possible for Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez to be called a
“revolutionary” for being a Latinx woman, trailblazing a path for other
women of colour to become agents of the state. This is not a critique of
all forms of radical thought that center around identity. I am a woman,
an Indigenous person, and a queer and I find power in organizing around
those identities. But there are many, many other times where I find my
strength in the affinity of ideas, running into dark alleys with
whichever comrade feels up to the task.
It is always important to remember that no identity marker can bind
together the disparate experiences of all people who match it. There is
no united womanhood, or Indigenous experience, or proletariat. The
binaries used to conveniently speak about identity are just as fake as
blood quantum. Unfortunately, the climate change and land defense
movements have romanticized Native peoples so that they take on an
almost mythical quality as earth guardians, with many anarchists buying
into it just as much as liberals.
Western society pushes us away from true community and towards an
individual, atomized existence. This transcends physical space to infect
the realm of ideas and stories, which we are encouraged to see as
accessible for anyone to use and change. It is common practice in
identitarian circles for people to depend on self-identification as
acceptable validation of an identity marker, and this has become rampant
in the issue of settlers claiming indigeneity. It is not enough to
simply proclaim that you now identify as Indigenous and it is playing
into settler psychology to do so. Using a wider lens, there are many
situations where it is appropriate to challenge someone’s claim to an
identity based solely on self-identification and I hope that as
critiques of identity politics mature, these questions can be
responsibly visited.
It is important to not let the logic of liberal identity politics
dominate relationships between anarchists, or between anarchists and
Native folks. This paves the other false path to settler redemption: the
white-guilt-ridden settler who sees self-sacrifice as the way to cleanse
their ancestors crimes. Co-creating a culture of obedience to Indigenous
people is a losing strategy, fostering not rebellious solidarity but an
environment of scarcity. Not only does it put too much pressure on
Indigenous people to make decisions for you, it robs us of one of our
most important protections against repression – decentralized action. It
prevents settler anarchists from questioning sketchy claims to
indigeneity touted by their comrades for fear of being accused of
racism, and creates a situation where settlers feel the only way to be a
true defender of the land is to become Indigenous.
I blame this binary between spiritually-rich Indigenous folks and
deadened, alienated white people for a part of the race-shifting
phenomenon of settlers trying to claim indigeneity, at least within the
“Left.” However, this is not a problem for Native folks to solve. There
are many steps that anarchists (and everyone) can take to practice real
solidarity and break away from the traps of allyship. Adopt your own
reasons for defending the land or attacking the state, separate from
your practice of support. Learn the real, unromantic history of
colonization, complete with occasional Native complicity. Understand who
you are and what your responsibilities are to the next generations. Gain
confidence in communicating your own politics of anarchism to Native
comrades. Don’t allow your crew to adopt a politic that makes it valiant
to be a victim, the kind that leads people to want to stack up oppressed
identities in order to gain social power. And, most importantly,
practice the self-assurance necessary to stop yearning for the approval
of Indigenous land defenders. Understand yourself well enough to catch
validation-seeking behaviours and be able to interrupt them and ground
yourself in your own reasons for acting.
Solidarity isn’t about going along with someone else’s project, it’s
about seeing a mutual and parallel cause between you and another
community/crew and acting together towards a common goal. Most often
that means you go your separate ways afterwards. Which is what the
intention should be if you are a settler doing solidarity work. Because
if you are showing up to the struggle in hopes of leaving settlerism
behind and being accepted into Indigenous community, then turn around
and go home.
Maybe you picked up this text because you were interested, or maybe you
have someone close to you whose evolving indigeneity is making you
uncomfortable. Maybe you picked it up because you have been exploring
the possibility of an Indigenous connection in your own life. I hope
that, by this point in the text, you are seriously mulling over your
actions and assessing whether or not you are engaged in any of this
bullshit. This section will mostly be about holding our friends
accountable but you can follow along for yourself as well.
You may think that your friend assuming an Indigenous identity is not
harmful so long as they are not accessing monetary resources, land, or
jobs meant for Indigenous people. However, this analysis is
short-sighted and could also be an excuse you are using to get out of an
uncomfortable conversation. If your friend is not accessing these things
now, it doesn’t mean they won’t later, especially if their claims to
indigeneity go unchallenged and they grow in confidence. Outside of
financial benefit, they still gain access to space and power, often
resulting in the displacement of Indigenous people. They could take up a
seat in a car going to ceremony, they could speak at a demonstration
meant to uplift Native voices, or they could gain support for their
initiatives based on misplaced solidarity. It is important to widen our
gaze when assessing impact.
It is important, as a settler, to hold your settler
comrades/friends/family responsible for their choice to inappropriately
assume an Indigenous identity. This is a delicate task, but – really –
holding our friends accountable is part of an honest and healthy
friendship. It would really suck if you accused a friend of playing
Indian and they had a legitimate claim they were just stepping into for
the first time. This zine is not talking about Native folks who have
been cut out of their communities by the state or for those reconnecting
to their kinship ties, this is for (mostly white) settlers who are
attempting to “rekindle” a Native identity based on ancestor connection
or a feeling. Luckily, the difference can be ascertained quite easily.
First, ask a lot of questions. Your friend just confided in you that
they have “discovered” an Indigenous ancestor in their family and it’s
really “bringing up a lot” for them. Look for the words “discovered” or
“found” in their language. If they have kinship relations and ties to a
community, it is not likely they are discovering it as an adult (unless
they have just found out they were adopted). “Discovering” an Indigenous
identity usually means digging up old documents or looking over a family
tree, which demonstrates blood connection and not kinship relation. It’s
common practice to ask a lot of questions about kinship between Native
folks and it is only Western “politeness” that stops us from “prying”
into our friend’s story. Be curious. In some of the worst incidents of a
settler manipulating people around them by pretending to be Indigenous,
the biggest regret people had afterwards was not asking more questions.
If they are making you feel rude for asking, if they are evading your
questions, if they insist their ancestry is a private matter, this is a
bad sign. It is important to suss out exactly how they are connected to
indigeneity and it is possible they will speak in vague terms or try to
exaggerate their situation. Get specific.
Second, encourage them to seek out more information. If they don’t know
the answers to your questions, urge them to go find out before they
start telling people they’re Native. That means before telling people
they’re even a “little bit” Native, and it also means before privately
telling people while publicly identifying as a settler. Ask them to
prioritize the search for kinship. If kinship ties exist, it won’t be
hard to find out a good deal of information. And if they don’t find
anything, then there’s nothing to find and that’s really all there is to
say about the matter. They shouldn’t identify as Indigenous.
Third, if they do find some information about their ancestral ties or
relatives from a family line, press them to go through the questions
outlined in the section on kinship. Maybe give them this zine in advance
of the conversation and ask them to sit down with you to talk about it.
Remember that, as their comrade, you have a right to ask them to
reconsider political choices you disagree with and you have the ability
to walk away from them if they refuse. It is not apolitical to tell
people in activist communities in Canada that you are Indigenous. There
is a huge amount of reverence paid to Indigenous land defenders and a
great deal of criticism that they evade from settler accomplices.
Claiming indigeneity falsely is a way of manipulating power in your
organizing community. If they are embedded in a community of anarchists
or organizers, but long to join an Indigenous community, ask them and
yourself why they are attempting to do so and why they aren’t fulfilled
amongst those who are most obviously their kin. If they have no kinship
ties to Native folks, it is okay to question or reject their claim to
indigeneity. Try to steer them towards an accurate interpretation of
their ancestry, maybe one that names them as a settler with a distant
Indigenous ancestor that they try to honour in struggle. Draw a hard
line if it is revealed that they are acting on an old family story, a
feeling, or perhaps nothing at all.
Fourth, ask them to interrogate their own desires to identify as
Indigenous. What do they feel is pulling them in that direction? Do they
feel a hole in their life that they think could be filled by ceremony?
Get them to dig honestly into their own narratives about what delineates
Indigenous people from settlers. Have them entertain the thought
experiment of switching out their Native ancestor with another racial
identity. If they found out they were from a lineage of white settlers
but discovered that one of their great-grandparents was Korean, would
they then feel entitled to start calling themselves Korean? Would they
learn Korean and start attending cultural services and get involved in
organizing projects for North Korean liberation? If not, what is the
difference?
Prepare yourself for backlash. They may accuse you of discriminating
against their claim because they are white or “light-skinned”. But this
isn’t about color. There are plenty of white Natives, and Black natives
too. In fact, the insistence of indigeneity to be defined by culture and
kinship instead of physical racial markers carves a wide doorway that
(mostly white) settlers take advantage of when they let themselves in.
Proving yourself as Native when you present Black is a far more
difficult burden and those individuals face far more lateral violence
than white skinned Indians ever will.
Your friend may accuse you of violence for forcing them to talk about
something “deeply personal” without their consent, or criticize you for
making something personal into something political. Identity is as much
a political issue as it is personal though, and it is important for us
to know the politics of our comrades, the way they see themselves in
relation to you and to others, and their reasons for acting.
Additionally, just because something is personal, does not mean it
cannot be challenged. There are many beliefs and stories that are
entrenched and meaning-making to a person that must be confronted and
dismantled, even if it should be done with care.
They may accuse you of weaponizing blood quantum against them to
disqualify their nativeness, of maintaining racist settler colonial
institutions that took Indians away from their community. This is
settler entitlement and it’s a gross ignorance of both history and of
the kinship systems of the community they are trying gain access to. The
idea of entitlement/disentitlement based on racial blood percentage has
always been used according to the needs of those in power at the time.
Settlers who convince themselves that a distant ancestor (or a story)
make them Indigenous are reversing the historic ways blood quantum has
been used against Native people for their own benefit. They are the ones
using blood quantum arguments to force themselves into a community they
have never really been a part of. They are the ones perpetuating settler
colonialism for their own benefit.
These are very hard conversations to have. I can’t guarantee you won’t
lose a friend. But it is important to hold your ground and stay
committed to your principles. Letting people continue on a path of
self-deception and entitlement is likely to end with a massive rupture
of conflict as Indigenous people who aren’t afraid to ask questions
eventually get smart to the ruse. You may find yourself answering for
your comrade’s behaviour. You may lose relationships with Indigenous
friends or comrades. The best thing that could happen is for settlers to
hold each other in community and stop this process before it gets out of
hand.
This whole thing honestly sucks. I hate that I felt compelled to write
about it. But I almost left my anarchist community over an incident of
this very kind in the last few years. It was exposed to me that no one
really understood the issue and fewer people knew how to talk about it.
While I wish this was an endeavour taken on by settlers for settlers, we
don’t live in a perfect world. I want the people I organize with to act
from a place of strength. I want to know I can trust my comrades to make
good decisions. I want to know that my co-conspirators understand their
place in Indigenous struggle.
I believe that we push harder when we fight for our own freedom and
existence. I believe we try harder to build community and relationship
when we feel rooted in place. I believe that being motivated by a
personal connection to and love for the land makes us better anarchists,
and gives us the best possibility to create a new world less shitty than
the old. I want all of my friends in struggle to find those things, on
their own terms, from their own tradition (historic or invented). Let us
not forget that all tradition, ceremony, and ritual is created by us to
make meaning of the world around us and of our relationships to each
other!
I don’t need to be seen as only an Indian, I’m okay with my strange
halfbreed mutt identity. My indigeneity is grounded in blood, kinship,
and a fairly disjointed human experience. I walk my road trying to be
open and honest, and never overstepping my place. I demand no less
integrity from those around me because I honour and respect the
beautiful kinship relations that have built and sustained Indigenous
community on Turtle Island for tens of thousands of years. You should
too.
“Decolonization is Not A Metaphor” by Eve Tuck and K. Yang (essay)
Distorted Descent: White Claims to Indigeneity authored by Darryl Leroux
(book)
MĂ©tis authored by Chris Andersen (book)
“Wiisaakodewininiwag ga-nanaakonaawaad: Jiibe-Giizhikwe, Racial
Homeopathy, and “Eastern Métis” Identity Claims” authored by Darren
O’Toole (essay)
“Old Myths, New Peoples: The “Eastern Métis” and Indigenous Erasure” by
Sabordage Distro (zine)
https://enoughisenough14.org/2020/11/01/old-myths-new-peoples-the-eastern-metis-and-indigenous-erasure-a-zine-from-sabordage-distro/
“Statement on Michelle Latimer” by Kawennáhere Devery Jacobs (Twitter
post)
https://twitter.com/kdeveryjacobs/status/1339960923218391040
Native American DNA: Tribal Belonging and the False Promise of Genetic
Science by Kim TallBear
Beyond Blood: Rethinking Indigenous Identity by Pam Palmater