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.

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