Waagaabagaa-giizis (Leaves Turning Moon) / Manoominike-giizis (Ricing Moon) - October 6, 2024
Boozhoo!
For some of us, it is a constant struggle to navigate the complexities of Indigenous identity within the deeply colonized, divided system we live in today. Expressing one's indigenousness while not being officially enrolled or listed in an American Indian tribe or Canadian First Nation is like treading on a mine field.
Since, about 12 years ago, I started to post my stories and art on social media, I have gotten used to receiving unsolicited public comments. Some of these comments are critical or even downright negative. But it goes further than that. Last spring, a journalist from a well-known Indigenous American news platform (which reaches about a half million people each month), dedicated a two-page article on so-called Pretend-indianship. She obviously needed a scapegoat to give her article context and credibility, and of course I was an easy target because I am light-skinned and currently live abroad. The article "exposed" me (without mentioning me by name as she well knew that libeling is a criminal offense in the United States) as a "Pretendian" from Holland, a "white" con artist who "plagiarizes" Native artists.
White? hmm.
A con? hmm.
An artist? I guess I am.
A plagiarizer? hmm. Has she ever seen my work?
A Pretendian? hmm.
From Holland? Nope. I'm not even Dutch.
The public attacks, some of which are indeed pretty vicious in nature, come in waves, and seem to be increasing over the past 3 or 4 years. This type of modern warfare in the form of online smearing and public targeting by Native artists and journalists lays bare a toxic mixture of Historic Trauma and Intergroup Conflict that, as if it were a volcano, has bubbled and broiled beneath the surface of Turtle Island for many generations – only to burst out in full force in today's digital realm, particularly in the sphere of social media like Facebook and TikTok. The nasty genie of polarization and lateral violence, all too often wrapped in a seemingly legitimate package of cultural (read: racist) self-righteousness stemming from a deeply felt urge to hold others "accountable" (the so-called call-out Pretendians culture), is out of the bottle and it looks like it will not be easy to put it back in again.
So, how does one deal with the toxic nastiness and drama that the "Pretendian Hunters" out there pour out on so many of us? How do I deal with it?
This is how I USED to deal with it.
When people called me a white culture vulture or Pretendian who "appropriates our culture and traditions" I asked them, are you assuming I'm not Native just because I have a light skin color? And who are you to assume I'm an outsider and stealing "your traditions?" How well do you know me, how can you possibly know where I have been and whom I have talked with and received my knowledge from?
To those who asked me why I do not publicly credit "the Elders" who told me the stories, I said, why should I do that, since "the stories" belong to us all, the People?
To those who told me I am crediting "the stories" (which belong to all of us) to myself, I said: I don't. What I do is keep the stories and our traditions alive and vital by retelling them and adding to them my own imagination and the knowledge that I gathered during my life journey. I weave old stories into a new narrative, just as the storytellers in the old days did. Since I am the storyteller it is my name you see mentioned at the bottom of the written story. So that you can address me personally if you feel like telling me you enjoyed the story. Or when you feel like telling me you do not like what I do.
To those who lectured me about "protocol," I said: I KNOW what the protocol is (when it comes to oral storytelling), you do not have to lecture me.
To those who told me I do not have the right to retell or adapt "our stories," I said, who and what gives you the right to tell me this? Who are you sitting on a high horse talking down on me? You tell me I'm not entitled to do what I do, but who entitled you to criticize me for what I do?
To the ikweg who claim they are champions of protecting our traditions, those self-appointed ogichidaakweg, warrior women who claim to protect the old ways but talk like academics and lawyers, I said, be humble and modest and attend the ceremonies and listen to the Elders instead of portraying yourselves online as warriors for a good cause in a highly authoritative fashion that goes against the old Teachings – giving yourselves away with an often blatant, arrogant mannerism adopted from the male European colonialists. Try to emulate our Elders who are soft-spoken, never aggressive.
To those who told me that aadizookaanan (traditional stories) should only be told when there's snow on the ground (another romantic version is, "when the ground is frozen") I said, enh geget gi-debwe, when it comes to telling stories ORALLY, in houses and lodges or outdoors where the spirits and ancestors can hear us, DEBWE! I would NEVER tell an aadizookaan orally as long as it is summer or spring.
To those who told me that it is inappropriate to tell or retell the aadizookaanan online I said, that is what you say, and who are you to tell me this? Have you forgotten almost 6 decades ago our late great painter storyteller Miskwaabik Animikii (who is widely known by his European name, Norval Morrisseau) was frowned upon, yes even harshly chastised, by traditionals/traditionalists for "disclosing knowledge" in a new fashion till then unheard of?
To those who told me that it is highly unusual that our stories are shared online I said, you are walking behind the facts.
To those traditionals/traditionalists who told me that I do not have the right to "disclose the Mide knowledge" I said, I don't disclose anything that's not already in books (not seldom written by our own knowledge keepers!) and out there on the Internet (often written by outsiders but in many cases based on sources from inside our Lodges) and I NEVER disclose parts of ceremonies and rituals that are meant to be kept inside our Lodges. I would NEVER do that.
To those who told me all the above things and spoke of Elders as if they are holy people who live on a high mountain above the rest of us I said, who says I am not an Elder, or regarded as one?
And lately? Lately I do not longer feel like replying to those who attack me. I no longer feel the urge to correct them, to waste my breath on them. And I sure as heck don't feel like I should justify myself (my ancestry, my blood percentage) to anyone in public, or tell them who my "teachers" are. I decided to keep the negativity and drama at bay and solely concentrate on creating art and writing stories for those who still believe in values like humbleness. kindness, and respect. Those who still uphold the old Indigenous tradition of calling others in, not out. Those who still know how to listen instead of judge and polarize. So, today, if someone feels the urge to publicly demand accountability regarding my "sources" or my tribal affinity, to lecture me or "expose" me, I simply ignore them. I block them. It feels so much better this way. Hence the title of my post and the illustration that goes with it, "Sitting Firmly in the Eye of the Hurricane": figuratively, the eye of a hurricane is the quiet center of a dispute or controversy.
Years ago, I asked a most respected Mide grandmother who is 10 years older than I am if she thought it okay if I weave the old stories in my storytelling and share it in writing and through my art. Her answer: yes it is as long as your heart tells you that you are doing the right thing.
Frankly, that is the ONLY criterium that holds true value for me.
Mi'iw.
Zhaawano Giizhik
Illustration: Sitting Firmly in the Eye of the Hurricane ©2024 Zhaawano Giizhik,
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