Today - and every day - is Indigenous Peoples’ Day

Each day, my work with Waaseyaa Consulting, Native Land Digital, my studies as an MA student in Indigenous Studies at Trent University, and my existence as an Anishinaabekwe with mixed ancestry all guide me to learn about the ways in which I can help to educate others on the long history of Indigenous people.

For many of us, our understandings of history stem from that which we were taught throughout our academic lives. Starting in grade school, we learn that there were “Indians” who were in North America, but then the “Great Explorers/Great Discoverers” arrived and that marks the point when “history” began. 

So, what is history? 


Paraphrasing from the Merriam-Webster Dictionary, history is defined as a tale/story, a chronological record of significant events (often including an explanation of their causes), an establish record, or a branch of knowledge that explains the past, amongst a few other definitions.  


You’ll notice that Merriam-Webster does not include the idea that history is a complete set of facts or events. More often than not, the histories we recognize from past academia are not “complete,” and perhaps may not even be totally factual. The history that is largely taught within schools is from textbooks, and can be generalized as the account of events that is written from the perspective of the (often white male) victor. 


An example of this is the history that is told to us is with regards to the crown/provincial/federal spaces designated as parks that so many of us love and enjoy (and perhaps tend to love to death). 


A significant portion of Algonquin Provincial Park in Ontario is located on unceded traditional Algonquin territory. The headwaters of the Madawaska River System is located in Algonquin Park; this headwaters area is that of my familial territory. When Algonquin Park was created in 1893, we were forcibly removed from the lands on which we had lived – not just survived, but thrived – since time immemorial, and many of our families moved to settler communities and made our lives there. I still live in this small town, steps away from the Algonquin Provincial Park border along the banks of a wide stretch of the Madawaska River on a lake now known as Galeairy Lake. That our families still live here, that we are working to re-learn parts of our culture and share those teachings with our youth is a testament to our resilience as a people. Our history is here – it has always been here. But it is not often told, and therefore not often known. As I had mentioned earlier, much of history is not known because we were not taught the history of those who were marginalized. I would like to think that we - those of us sharing histories and those of us who are re-learning history - are changing our collective understanding of our shared history.


So how do we start to share these perspectives of history that might allow us to create a more inclusive history? And further, why does it matter?


If you are an Indigenous person, I encourage you to share your story. Start anywhere. Write it down. Record it. Point form, long-winded sentences, doesn’t matter – the point is that you write it down. You don’t even have to share it with anyone else – but if it is there, perhaps at some point in time, you will feel comfortable sharing those stories with those who need to hear them, and those who can carry those stories forward.


If you are non-Indigenous, make an effort to learn those stories – listen to us. Honour those stories by changing the way that you understand Indigenous people, and the natural world. And then, give Indigenous people a platform to share our stories. However, please do not take the stories and this knowledge as if it is your own – that is not appropriate. Instead, make space for us. Make space for the Indigenous voice to tell the stories that it was illegal for us to tell. That we have lost our lives to tell. 


These stories matter. To quote Thomas King, “the truth about stories is that is all we are”.  As Indigenous people, these stories, our histories, are what guide us through our understanding of the world. Through these stories, we know the reciprocal responsibilities that we have to the natural world. These stories teach us that we all have a place in this world. 


Many of us tell our stories so that our next generations will know who they are. Many of us tell our stories so that people know that we are still here.


The reason that I share the Madaouesakrini history is so that the next generation of Madaouesakrini Algonquin Anishinaabeg will know who they are, and that they will know that this is their home. I grew up without these stories; these stories were taken from us when our homes, our language, our ceremonies and traditional practices were taken from us. I am thankful to my Elders, my aunties, my cousins, my friends and family who have helped me to reconnect to these stories so that I am able to know who I am – and so that I am able to teach these stories so that they continue on.

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Celebrating Indigenous Peoples’ Day in the US today, October 12, 2020

In my role as Executive Director with Native Land Digital, I’m able to do some really incredible work and participate in some really great partnerships. Please check out this article written in collaboration with Wondery Brand titled The Land We Inhabit: Learning About The Indigenous History Behind our National Parks.

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