Indigenous Peoples’ Day and the Unlearning Journey
What is colonially called Portland, Oregon (pictured here with Wy’East in the distance) is on the unceded ancestral village sites of the Multnomah, Wasco, Cowlitz, Kathlamet, Clackamas bands of Chinook, Tualatin, Kalapuya, Molalla, and many other tribes who made their homes along the Columbia River
Monday was Indigenous Peoples’ Day. Marked by a proclamation from President Biden, the U.S. now recognizes the day as a federal holiday (albeit alongside the holiday celebrating a perpetrator of Indigenous genocide, so there’s some work to day). This year, though, the State of Oregon marked its first official Indigenous Peoples’ Day, thus replacing the “other” holiday.
A lot of this can seem symbolic in the face of a needed overhaul of racist systems and structures that continue to erase Indigenous peoples and their stories from the narrative. I see that, and agree. But I also know that so many White settler-colonizers like myself have gone so many years being fed the wrong stories about Indigenous histories and modern-day cultures that commemorations like this could still be an opportunity. This could be an opportunity to shift that narrative among people who deeply need to learn a different story.
Tawna Sanchez, one of the two Indigenous legislators in Oregon who led the efforts to name Indigenous Peoples’ Day an official state holiday said this in an NPR story about what it means to her: “It's hopefully a day where folks can reflect because people are actually taking a look at long-term racism and oppression, implicit bias, historical trauma, this moment in time of reckoning, how we've looked at all of this because history is always written by the conqueror.”
As Sanchez noted, the designation of Indigenous Peoples’ Day has the potential to reframe the narrative in our own minds and to unlearn harmful stereotypes and stories that were taught to us growing up. I’ve personally been on this unlearning journey around settler colonialism and my own role in it for the last couple of years. I’m still deep, deep into the why-the-hell-am-I-just-learning-this-now phase of this process (the unlearning I suppose we can call it). But I’m also a bit more deeply into the this-is-what-I-can-do-to-support-the-movement/give-all-the-land-back part of it (the action stage). Always imperfect, but a journey nonetheless.
So in the spirit of the journey, I figured that for this week’s post I can at least lay out some of the things that I’ve been going through on this journey to hopefully inspire other settler-colonizers like myself to take their own journey.
The Unlearning/Why The Hell Am I Just Learning This Now
Y’all, I want to say at the outset, this part, like any unlearning process, is infuriating as hell when I’ve started to see how deep White supremacist/settler colonial narratives are woven into the fabric of the stories we tell ourselves and our children. And for the level of anger I had for not knowing and not being taught this for most of my life, can you imagine the frustration and anger of Indigenous peoples who knew all along how White settlers essentially created an apocalyptic genocide amongst their peoples? Yeah, settler-colonialism is messed up that way. But better to know it and reckon with it than live the entire rest of my life (and likewise letting my kid live his life) in complete ignorance of our complicity in such a messed up system.
First, there will always be a lot to learn/unlearn, and it shouldn’t just be bound to Indigenous Peoples’ Day. Here are some of the resources that have and continue to be transformative to my understanding of Indgenous history and Indigenous peoples today and the narrative:
History/Context
These were foundational to unlearning the settler narrative I was taught and then reframing it with a Native narratives.
An Indigenous Peoples’ History of the United States by Roxane Dunbar-Ortiz (book)
The Heartbeat of Wounded Knee by David Treuer (book)
“Little War on the Prairie” (podcast episode from Scene On Radio’s season 2 series “Seeing White”)
Narratives Around Settler-Colonialism
Part of the unlearning process continues to be reckoning with my own relationship to settler colonialism. We tend to think since we weren’t directly the settlers--rather our ancestors were the perpetrators--that we’re absolved of their sins. But just like the legacy of slavery still exists within systems and structures, so does the legacy of settler-colonialism. Indeed, we are all living on stolen land in North America and we need to come to terms with that. These have been helpful in my own reckoning with myself as a settler.
Settler Colonialism Primer by Laura Herwitz & Shawn Borque (article)
Decolonization is Not a Metaphor by Eve Tuck and K. Wayne Yang (article in Decolonization: Indigeneity, Education and Society)
Return the National Parks to the Tribes by David Treuer (article from The Atlantic)
Lives and Issues of Indigenous People Today
One of the important things I’ve come to emphasize in my own learning is to honor and recognize that Indigenous people live and thrive here today. The narratives we were told growing up revolved around the “disappearing Native American.” No mention, of course, that we/settler colonizers would’ve been the cause of such disappearance. Regardless, despite the odds of a continuous genocidal campaign by colonial governments, Native people survived and still thrive to maintain and advocate for their cultures and their way of life (a term called survivance by Gerald Vizenor).
All My Relations Podcast (podcast)
This Land (podcast)
Unrooted a podcast by The Indigenous Foundation (podcast)
Actions/Give All the Land Back
And with any anti-racism work, the question remains: what am I actually doing to help undo such settler-colonialist systems? As always, the answer for myself is “not enough.” And a lot of it comes with a whole lot of figuring out what it all means. Fore example, if you’ve read (or intend to read) the article I mentioned above, Decolonization is Not a Metaphor by Eve Tuck and K. Wayne Yang, you realize that the meaning around decolonization is very literal: return the land, power, and resources back to Indigenous people. In a very ingrained capitalist system (that I realize how much is ingrained in my own psyche), this comes with a lot of dissonance and figuring out what that means on an individual level.
But what I can say is that I’ve found some personal actions that I can take (albeit small), while also finding ways to be a part of a larger movement.
Individual Actions I’ve Taken
Acknowledging Indigenous land: Land, water and the resources therein are at the heart of Indigenous spirit and cultures. They’re also what was forced away from them in the western campaign for European/settler domination. So, acknowledging whose stolen land I live, work, and play on stolen Indigenous land is one of the easiest starting points. It’s also a way to train my own brain to think about and reflect on Native people when I engage with the land and the place I live, it’s an active resistance to the erasure that the settler narrative brought about. This acknowledgement comes in many forms, be it internal reflections whenever I’m out in nature, an acknowledgement on an Instagram post. I wrote about land acknowledgements last year--please see all the resources from Native people therein for guidance.
Learning about Indigenous people where I live: Like I said before, I need to not only know about the history of Indigenous people writ large, but that of the place I live, specifically the Pacific Northwest. It’s another way I’m training myself to see beyond the narratives I was taught. Likewise, it’s not just learning about the history, but learning about the Native organizations and formal tribes in the region to support and become involved with. While there are formal tribal organizations that oversee different parts of Oregon, Portland doesn’t have any one tribe associated with the location. But there are some incredible Native-led organizations to be involved with including The Confluence Project and NAYA Family Center.
Pay my voluntary land tax: In light of knowing whose land you’re on, there’s also the question of what is owed. Because the U.S. government doesn’t acknowledge Indigenous land outside of reservations, you can do this in the form of a voluntary land tax where you pay “rent”/”tax” in the form of a donation to a local tribe or Indigenous organization.
Reading Native authors, Watching Native shows, and supporting Native artists: The narratives we consume also help drive what we are doing and the money involved in purchasing such items supports these artists. Some of my favorite Native authors and poets are Tommy Orange, Joy Harjo, Tommy Pico, David Treuer, Louise Erdrich, and Marcie Rendon (who will be facilitating a Scribente Maternum writer’s retreatting-retreat in January!). Some amazing new shows are showing Native people in all their modern nuances (and they are such good comedy) like Reservation Dogs and Rutherford Falls.
Indigenous Sovereignty Movements I’m Learning About
Native sovereignty and rematriation of the land are the larger key components to the the #LandBack movement. While I’m still reckoning with what this means in my own place and world, I am learning so much from and learning about my own personal role in this movement from the following organizations.
Admittedly, writing all of this makes me realize how early in this journey to reframing the narrative in my own mind and life. But I’m glad I’m on it.