The Scissors Suggest A Failure Of Patience
Via the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation, I bring you bondage news:
As I took the decorations off my artificial Christmas tree and put them away, I found myself mulling over new year’s resolutions… Carefully handling each branch, I snipped away at the wires and started feeling for this tree. With each snip and painstaking unwinding, I recognised that I was releasing the tree from the bondage of appearance and glitter.
The bondage of glitter, I mean.
As an Anishinaabekwe, I am most at home among my mitig (tree) relatives. So when one is brought into my home, I feel like I’m welcoming family. I live by the beliefs and values that I’ve been taught: that I have a relationship with everything around me — the flying beings, the growing beings, the swimming beings, the four-legged beings and the rooted beings.
And the mass-produced plastic trees.
The experience of freeing my pretend tree from the wire bondage that held it made me reflect on this custom and has led to my new year’s resolution: Instead of buying another artificial tree pre-bound in the wires that have come to represent to me the bonds of colonisation, I will welcome my mitig relatives into my home and dress them honourably and brightly.
Ah, deep and spiritual. Immensely ethnic.
My pre-colonisation family name is Mkishinaatik, meaning “Rotten Wood.”
Oh well done. Have a toffee. Mine means Son of Thom, or, at a push, Twin.
A kind and knowledgeable Kokum explained the importance of my name. My family became known as nurturers and healers because, without the rotting wood, nothing would ever grow again. The medicines given up by the wood as it returns to the earth allows the next generation to flourish. I was filled with pride when I received this teaching and I say “Chi miigwetch, Kokum” for this truth.
This truth. Big pride. It’s heady stuff. And a lot to take in.
And so, I will put away my now unbound tree, branches relieved from their burden and give it another season to honour its natural peers. But the time will come when I will once again welcome my mitig relative home and dress her in the memories of my family. Then I will celebrate her return to the earth after the season of celebration and allow her the opportunity to give medicine to the generations to come.
I repeat, plastic tree.
Marina Commanda Westbrook is Anishinaabekwe from Nipissing First Nation. She is a blessed mother, professor of Indigenous studies, lifelong learner and lover of her relatives — all the earthly beings.
Yes, an educator. As was no doubt obvious.
Via Jonathan Kay.
Who cuts the lights off a Christmas tree?
I had to, once, when we’d decorated a six-foot cactus. After repeated encounters with the razor-sharp spines, and some colourful language, a new set of lights was a small price to pay. But yes, that was a fairly niche situation.
Once upon a time professional media organisations would have editors who carefully scrutinised submissions intended for publication.
And say things like “Nope”.
It does rather suggest a mindset. Some shared assumptions about, among other things, pointedly “Indigenous” content. Presumably, one should just nod and defer.
Weird. I buy the kind of fairy lights that are joined by wires so all you have to do is pull one end.
This thing was a huge euphorbia of some kind, complete with needle-like spines that, on the merest contact, injected something not unlike bleach directly into your bloodstream.
I don’t often swear, but that day I did.
Oh well done. Have a toffee.
LOL
@David
Sorry you feel that way 😉
I got up halfway through the final episode to pause it because I had to bury a body or something equally important, made it halfway to the telly, then simply froze there enthralled for the entire rest of the show.
Oh shit. Excuse me – I’ve just remembered I have something important to do.
P.S. I hold no hopes for a sequel. As for (nearly) all sequels t’would be better were it not to exist.
P.P.S
Are you sure it isn’t “Here son. Have a thomp“?
I didn’t dislike it and I don’t regret watching it. The premise was interesting, if revealed only at the end. And the actor who plays the small boy was very good. But I did struggle to like Jessica Raine as Lucy. I was never quite convinced. (Though I liked her performance in An Adventure in Space and Time.)
Attention
Modern undergraduates may find Peter Pan “Emotionally Challenging”.
Please update your files accordingly.
Presumably, one should just nod and defer.
It’s woke condescension.
Well, a different, and even lower, standard does seem to have been extended. Such that those bonds of colonisation, which supposedly weigh so heavily upon our author, can remain entirely unspecified. Perhaps she means healthcare and dentistry, or her lucrative and statusful employment as a Professor of Indigenous Studies.
Ah, a worthy reference. Unfortunately I see that’s written by Mark Gatiss – a smug toad I loathe. So I can’t watch it.
I didn’t mind Raine’s performance except when she was pretending to be a senior police detective in one of the many parallel timestreams.
But Capaldi was surprisingly good. I thought.
Oh. Spoiler Alert!
This line of thought led me back to my childhood. Fifty years ago, our family had a shiny, silver aluminum tree wound with lights that my dad carefully checked and replaced, year after year.
As is the tradition of all Anishinaabekwe from Nipissing First Nation, so I am not sure what she is banging on aboot.
Maybe plastic trees just have more colonization than aluminum ones.
I see that Sir Francis Drake Primary School Lewisham is to change its name after discovering that Drake was primarily famous for slave trading.
They are henceforth to be known as Twin Oaks Primary School.
Though why they should rename themselves after a notorious Alabama slave plantation is beyond me.
I repeat, plastic tree.
That sparked a long-dormant memory from 45 years ago: Some of the kids I knew back then gave their cars names, always referred to them by name, and insisted that the cars had actual souls and personalities. No amount of rational argument could budge them, just as no evidence could loosen their faith in crystals, auras, tarot cards, and the scientific accuracy of comic books.
Also springs to mind: “Mary Margaret Road-Grader” by Howard Waldrop: A post-apocalypse short story in which American Indian culture is centered using and maintaining old cars and trucks and farm equipment rather than on horses and buffalo. Thusly Indian children are likely to be named after cars and trucks rather than animals. It was a fun read, although after more than 40 years I don’t remember much. Other stories of his that spring to mind: “The Ugly Chickens” (the last dodo birds found in rural Appalachia), “The Night of the Cooters” (what happened in Texas during The War of the Worlds) and “A Dozen Tough Jobs” (the twelve labors of Hercules set in the Deep South during the Great Depression.)
Two times now I’ve started it, fell asleep, and woke up at episode 4 or something not knowing what’s going on. Maybe coffee will help next time.
What is the difference between Christmas tree colonization and Christmas tree immigration? It seems that colonization is bad and immigration is good, but what is the difference between the two?
Oh that one’s easy. If the tree votes left, it’s immigration.
That. ‘Colonisation’ is just a ‘shut up’ word now.
Well, despite the attempt to conjure in the mind some pre-white-devil idyll, a glance at Wikipedia reveals that Ms Westbrook’s not-too-distant collective ancestors passed the time with subsistence farming, slavery, and, oh yes, post-battle cannibalism.
In between all the nurturing and healing and feeling the cosmic hum, I mean.
Yet somehow when white people dress up as druids and go to Stonehenge, they get no respect. The last time that ANY white people lived in as primitive a state as North American Indians in 1700 was over 2000 years ago, maybe 4000. It would be good to just admit that they are a little behind and try to catch up.
Via the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation, I bring you bondage news:
Oooh, kinky.
*clicks link*
Damn it, you over-promised and under-delivered. Although, thankfully, it wasn’t Sandrine Schaefer in fishnets and handcuffs, so I am at least grateful for small mercies.
Yet somehow when white people dress up as druids and go to Stonehenge, they get no respect.
Because they aren’t authentic? No human sacrifice, after all, not even on the solstice.
I like some of Gatiss’ writing (he gets mad props from me for his adaptation of Christie’s “The Big Four,” one of her worst novels), but “An Adventure in Space and Time” sounds like propaganda for Doctor Who, and this scene from Wikipedia is pure cringe:
“As filming begins, Hartnell looks to the side and sees a brief vision of Matt Smith, who will play the same role nearly 50 years later, silently acknowledge his work.”
Tarting up a CV with mystical vapourings is all the thing these days.
Interesting statement. According to Seeing Like a State, family names were imposed by states for purposes of taxation, conscription, and generally keeping track of people. They were not necessary or present in pre-colonization societies, nor, for that matter, in pre-modern European societies. When they were imposed, patronyms like “Thompson” became attached to lineages. I strongly doubt that this person’s pre-colonization family had a name.
Molly: there you go harshing their mellow with those so-called facts. They want to embrace all the mystical feel-good stuff (even if imaginary) but ignore the harsh reality of that primitive life, the constant warfare, even genocide of neighboring tribes, slavery (euphemistically called “taking a wife”), infant mortality, and scalps.
https://www.arounddeal.com/profile/marina-westbrook/d3ofwxmvsr
“Professor AND Coordiinator (sic) OF Aboriginal Studies, Algonquin College at Algonquin College (so good she said it twice?) of Applied Arts and Technology”
One teensy albeit predictable problem. Her whiter than white photo makes Liz Warren look like Sacajawea.
Also is Commanda a traditional Nipissing name?
I want some of whatever this rotten wood guy smokes.
It does rather suggest a mindset. Some shared assumptions about, among other things, pointedly “Indigenous” content. Presumably, one should just nod and defer.
Yes. I find it curious that certain beliefs of Christianity or Judaism are mocked and ridiculed mercilessly in academic circles for being superstitious woo, and yet many in those same academic circles can’t genuflect fast enough when learning that other types of superstitious woo turn out to be beliefs from cultures or religions considered “Indigenous”.
Wait a minute. If the artificial tree’s decorations were “bondage of appearance and glitter,” then why is she promising next year to bring in a real tree – one of her relatives, yet! – and “dress her” in the same “bondage”?
The problem with introspection as a basis for writing is that if your head is full of woo, that is all you will find in there. And of course the hopelessly progressive distain “research”, so that is their method of choice.
I confess to a certain degree of confusion, with Washington State being roughly 1,800 miles from Nipissing, a distance that no indigenous person (or exceedingly few) could have travelled, prior to European contact. I imagine other local tribes would have either claimed those trees (using some other term than ‘mitig’ I imagine), or perhaps more reasonably claimed that trees were not related to human beings, had no souls, etc. In such a conflict between local woo and the imported kind, which set of nonsense beliefs take priority? It seems Westbrook is colonizing the local indigenous community, isn’t she?
Also – the 1,800 mile trip to Washington – travelled by canoe and perhaps dog travois, horses (and therefore horse travois) being unknown in North America prior to contact?
Thusly Indian children are likely to be named after cars and trucks rather than animals.
Indian Child: Grandpa, how do we get our names.
Grandpa: Well, when your brother was born, your father looked outside the teepee and saw an eagle flying above the camp, so your father named him Bold Eagle. When your sister was born, your father looked outside the teepee and saw a rabbit running through the field, so your father named her Swift Hare.
But why do you ask Two Dogs Fckunig?
A colonized oldie, but a colonized goodie.
[ Fetches Steve’s coat, petrol can, matches. ]
Also – the 1,800 mile trip to Washington – travelled by canoe and perhaps dog travois, horses (and therefore horse travois) being unknown in North America prior to contact?
And modern (indigenous) scholars would explain (gaslight?) that the travois was superior to the wheeled cart…
…oops excuse me, I have to get my coat.
But why do you ask Two Dogs Fckunig?
His twin, born a minute later, was named One Man Bucket, short for One Man Throwing a Bucket of Water On Two Dogs.
Lucky.
[ Sidles up to Steve E. Smiles ingratiatingly. ]
Would you be interested in buying an asbestos coat? Finest quality.
Lucky.
Doubly so, now that his Prius is totaled, he can get a real car.
Miz Miranda Commanda sounds dead earnest here. Like she ate up the flattery and licked the spoon. I don’t know what a Kokum is, but this one saw her coming
I don’t know what a Kokum is…
It is an Indian fruit…
I guess she was communing with a tree again, but how a tree from India wound up in Canada is a bit of a mystery.
Good grief! So that dialog was all in her head? She butters herself up, and thanks herself for it . . . then coyly gives the credit to a coconut?
So that dialog was all in her head?
Probably, but I was just being snarky.
However…
So the Cree are expressing solidarity with the people who displaced them. Makes as much sense as anything else so far, so I suspect her communing with a kocum might be hokum.
Would you be interested in buying an asbestos coat?
Yes please. A 44 Regular. Something stylish from the respected Johns-Manville collection.
I’m old enough to remember when Johns-Manville sponsored one team at every level of Little League Baseball and kid’s hockey in my town and we didn’t live anywhere near any of their businesses. They were in a public relations battle for their very existence even back then.
but how a tree from India wound up in Canada is a bit of a mystery.
Probably arrived in the packs of POC colonizers who crossed land bridges or arrived via dugout canoe from the south sea islands. You know when they established a superior civilization thousands of years ago that mysteriously disappeared (like Wakanda).
Something even worse than colonization must have occured since they lost knowledge of the wheel, fusion technology, cell phones and space travel. I heard the stories from the oral histories because they also forgot their written language and had to reinvent it, helped by Jesuits who liked fcuknig around with extra vowels and stuff. I’d offer more, but you’re a white devil who needs to educate yourself.
;-p
Something even worse than colonization must have occurred…
They all got squashed by the giant flying pyramids that landed near Edmonton – also explains why Alberta is so flat.
They all got squashed by the giant flying pyramids that landed near Edmonton –
Creating the site for the West Edmonton Mall (just so there was no confusion with the six store retail plaza in East Edmonton).
there is a dearth of knowledge about interactions between early Ukrainian immigrants
Alberta Ukrainians were so unwanted they were run out of Honky Mecca (Winnipeg, Manitoba) by respectable Ukrainians. The good people of Saskatchewan escorted them through their province to Alberta, where, in a gesture of goodwill and survival, they started handing out babushkas to the natives.
This heritage moment brought to you by Cabbage Rolls and Coffee mm mm Good. Polka On!
Cabbage Rolls and Coffee mm mm Good.
Mrs. Yachtki’s really can’t be beat.
No, no, no, no, no. You’re all confused. I think you’re thinking of the Canadian Natural Law Party, aka Yogic Flyers.
…Yogic Flyers.
Yogic Flyers – more buncombe, they are just being propelled by the metabolic product of too many of Mrs. Yatchki’s cabbage rolls, if you catch my meaning, if you get my drift.
buncombe
Heh. I live not very far from there. Somewhat proud to say. Somewhat.
Edited…just checked and they’re a bit further away than I thought. Sure seem to see their school busses a lot for some reason though.
Sure seem to see their school busses a lot for some reason though.
The Buncombe County High School sports teams, “The Red Racketeers”, are arch rivals of the Flimflam County, Georgia High School “Purple Ponzis”.
Yogic Flyers.
The Yogic Flyers played in the Alberta Junior C Hockey League powered by Mrs. Yatchki’s cabbage rolls.
No, no, no, no, no. You’re all confused. I think you’re thinking of the Canadian Natural Law Party, aka Yogic Flyers.
No need to spend travel money on those evil polluting jet planes.
Yogic Flyers – more buncombe, they are just being propelled by the metabolic product of too many of Mrs. Yatchki’s cabbage rolls
Oh. Never mind.
But does a flatulent giggling kook really have Buddha-nature?
Because it must be posted:
We are kings:
We are kings
Hey – that’s on the Mighty Mississippi just north of Graceland (home of The King) – can’t miss it if you ever drove I40 west. It has a bird and alligator sanctuary inside, as well as climbing walls, nature trails – and shopping, restaurants, and hotel rooms. It’s like Biodome and a mall, but in pyramid shape. I am also guessing there’s a lot of modern engineering, tech and good ol fossil fuels keeping that place going, too. The we waz kangs crowd shoots up the surrounding city and generally act like Chicago-lite.
The we waz kangs crowd shoots up the surrounding city and generally act like Chicago-lite.
And upstream from Memphis is St Louis, which has the same problem.
Dentistry is always the weakness for woo.
Here in NZ we hear a lot about Maori wisdom and knowledge, but never about Maori dentistry. I have never known of any Maori activist who eschewed Western dentistry, no matter how much they go on about how much more in touch with nature they were/are.
It’s not just the magical brown people though.
There’s a large number of women who insist that taking painkillers in labour is unnatural. Suggest a root canal without them, however, and it’s a different story. (In fact almost none of them would even get a filling without pain killers, the babies.) It turns out “natural” is only for some things, which don’t affect them.
kokum
A corruption of hokum?
If she were really invested in freeing herself from “the bondage of colonization “ she should stop celebrating Xmas at all as natives have culturally appropriated it from the very colonizers they want to be free of!