I dropped out of high school.
The truth is, I didn't care about school, and when I had the chance to drop out and work full-time instead, I took it. I didn't want to be a dentist, a teacher, a lawyer or a nurse. I wanted to be a professional fighter, and every hour spent at school felt like it could've been an hour of training or an hour of work paying to train.
So, how and why did I end up here?
I changed paths for many reasons, but the one I will share with you today is wanting to heal instead of hurt. I decided to become a physician! This idea was short-lived, but the desire to serve my community remained. After seeing two academics from the University of Alberta's lasting impact on my Nation's sovereignty, I discovered a world of possibilities. I upgraded, graduated and earned acceptance into the Transition Year Program, transferred into the Field-Placement Stream of the Criminology program, and again into the Native Studies Honors and Certificate in Indigenous Governance and Partnership programs.
Legal scholar Hadley Friedland and Indigenous governance scholar Shalene Jobin's Wahkohtowin Project showed me the power of land-based learning in nation-building. This summer 2023, LAW 589: ᐘᐦᑯᐦᑐᐏᐣ Wahkohtowin: ᒥᔪ ᐑᒉᐦᑐᐏᐣ miyo-wîcêhtowin Principles and Practice in the Faculty of Law and NS 330: Indigenous Economies: Land-Based Learnings of pimâcihowin ᐱᒫᒋᐦᐅᐃᐧᐣ in the Faculty of Native Studies allowed me to learn from both of my academic inspirations. Here is my story.
Academic Homecoming
Photo by Marc Jr. Doire
As I entered LC 105 for my first of two seminars, I couldn't help but feel intimidated. I was a second-year student daring to share the classroom with upper-year students in the Juris Doctor program. However, after miraculously squeezing around a square table outside the Law Centre, my peers made me feel like I belonged alongside them. For two days, we critically engaged with the assigned readings, explored Indigenous legal theory, created eco maps and beaded with course graduate Jessica Sanderson-Barry. I left those seminars feeling empowered and ready to return home.
The land-based learning occurred in Susa Creek, my childhood home and one of the seven cooperatives and enterprises comprising the Aseniwuche Winewak Nation. It's where I started elementary school, lived with my matriarchs and fell in love with the land. Of the seven communities, we celebrate Susa Creek as the gathering place for community members to tan their hides. I visit Grande Cache and Susa Creek often, but returning home to learn from my family for university credit was special.
Over four days, our class brain-tanned a moosehide from scratch—everything from thawing, framing, fleshing, and scraping to conditioning and smoking. My classmates made space for me in the classroom, so I reciprocated and made them feel welcome on the frame—this was ᒥᔪ ᐑᒉᐦᑐᐏᐣ miyo-wîcihtowin (good relations). We ate foods I grew up on, like bannock, moose meat and bone marrow. My cousins guided the class to our non-human kin, who they felt embodied ᐘᐦᑯᐦᑐᐏᐣ wahkôtowin (interrelatedness). Drummers, singers and dancers showcased their gifts in the summer sunset, and I guided my peers to Sulphur Gates. Interweaved were experiences that brought everything together, which we journaled as part of our assessments.
The course concluded with a sharing circle. Sitting alongside my grandmother and Elder, Mabel Wanyandie, strengthened my emotions. We all laughed, cried, and looked into the future. Taking part in the Wahkohtowin Project was my academic homecoming. It led me to learn from legal scholar Hadley Friedland, legal director Koren Lightning-Earle, the Wahkohtowin Law and Governance Lodge team, my peers and my family. However, I still needed one vital piece missing from my academic story. I found it in my last summer class through the Faculty of Native Studies.
Decolonizing the Classroom
Photo by Marc Jr. Doire
In preparation for Indigenous Economies: Land-Based Learnings of pimâcihowin ᐱᒫᒋᐦᐅᐃᐧᐣ, our class read Indigenous governance scholar Shalene Jobin's book titled Upholding Indigenous Economic Relationships. Call it luck, but I read the book shortly after publication. I was motivated to read it before the course because of Jobin's contribution to my academic journey, and when I learned she was leaving the U of A, I realized this course was my last chance to learn from her.
We started our class with a ceremony. I can't share the ceremony's details; that would require tobacco (protocol). However, it opened a circle that would be our learning journey throughout the course. Our class became a tight-knit community that dove deep into experiential, land-based learning. Nearly every day for two weeks, we travelled in or around ᐊᒥᐢᑲᐧᒋᐋᐧᐢᑲᐦᐃᑲᐣ amiskwaciwâskahikan (Edmonton) to learn the Cree and Métis concept of ᐱᒫᒋᐦᐅᐃᐧᐣ pimâcihowin (livelihood) from knowledge holders.
Our instructor, Kirsten Lindquist, created diverse learning opportunities inside and outside the classroom and found time to engage in critical discussions. The course manager, Tracy Howlett, ensured the class got from point A to B and sometimes Z as scheduled. Some of our stops included the Edmonton River Valley, Fort Edmonton Park, Elk Island National Park, Stanley A. Milner Library and kihcihkaw askî. The teaching assistant, Pamela Greene, embodied the supportive warmth that brought me to the Faculty of Native Studies in the first place. This collective care and support gave our group the best experiential learning experience possible.
Of all our experiences, the one that stands out most is our stay in Métis Crossing. We explored historical sites like The Barn and Victoria Settlement, canoed the North Saskatchewan River and visited the Bison with Elder and honourary law degree recipient Elmer Ghostkeeper, who authored some of our course readings. Atop these incredible experiences, I learned from Shalene Jobin around a fire with my class. She shared her story, explained why she wrote the book and taught us about Indigenous economic resurgence. With the heat of the fire and the coolness in the darkening air creating the setting, I finally realized my chapter's conclusion.
Closing the Circle
Photo by Marc Jr. Doire
In taking LAW 589: ᐘᐦᑯᐦᑐᐏᐣ Wahkohtowin: ᒥᔪ ᐑᒉᐦᑐᐏᐣ miyo-wîcêhtowin Principles and Practice and NS 330: Indigenous Economies: Land-Based Learnings of pimâcihowin ᐱᒫᒋᐦᐅᐃᐧᐣ, I closed the most important chapter of my academic story. The circle Hadley Friedland and Shalene Jobin opened for me through the Wahkohtowin Project years ago in Susa Creek is part of the reason I am at the U of A today, and being able to close it after years of pursuit is a milestone. Only time will tell where my journey will take me, but one thing is for sure: my heart is fulfilled.
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