Indigenous Studies

New graduate credits �鶹��Ƶ’s Transitional Year Programme for her success – and plans to pay it forward

siddiq22 — Fri, 16 Jun 2023 17:09:52 +0000

New graduate credits �鶹��Ƶ’s Transitional Year Programme for her success – and plans to pay it forward

siddiq22 Fri, 06/16/2023 - 13:09

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Floria Kangootui, wearing traditional clothing from her homeland of Namibia, graduated this week after �鶹��Ƶ's Transitional Year Programme helped her achieve her dream of attending university (supplied image)

Tabassum Siddiqui

Topic

Our Community

Convocation 2023

Indigenous Studies

Equity Studies

African Studies

Factor-Inwentash Faculty of Social Work

Faculty of Arts & Science

University College

Subheadline

After overcoming challenges to achieve her dream of attending university, Floria Kangootui aims to help others by drawing on her own experiences

As Floria Kangootui crosses the stage at Convocation Hall this week, she’ll be thinking about how far she’s come.

While the University of Toronto graduate always planned to continue her education when she fled Namibia for Canada 12 years ago, obstacles kept getting in the way – until she discovered the Transitional Year Programme (TYP).

“I wanted to go to a country where I would just feel safe and be who I am. I came not having any friends or family, not knowing anyone – I just made a huge decision to come here and really wanted to go to school,” recalls Kangootui, 40, who earned a bachelor’s degree in the Faculty of Arts & Science with a major in critical studies in equity and solidarity and a double minor in Indigenous studies and African studies.

“When I arrived, I came in as a refugee claimant and did not have my immigration status yet. Due to my challenges supporting my family back home, I dropped out of school. I didn’t know what to do – I didn’t have a voice for myself.”

Kangootui wears a stole from Black Grad 2023, a student-run celebration that highlights the accomplishments of Black graduates at �鶹��Ƶ (supplied image)

Kangootui, a member of University College, left Namibia because of societal pressures, including a longstanding tradition within her family to promise girls in marriage to their cousins, as well as deeply rooted homophobia within the country.

Once in Canada, she took a job in 2013 with a mining company in Timmins, Ont. – pushing her aspiration to finish high school even further off.

But when an Indigenous colleague at the company shared stories about residential school and the Sixties Scoop, Kangootui's desire to learn was rekindled.

“I really began questioning why I didn’t know anything about this history and realized I wanted to go back to school and learn more about the history of Canada.”

After becoming a single parent in 2016 and moving back to Toronto, she was set to study community services at college when a Facebook post about �鶹��Ƶ’s Transitional Year Programme caught her eye.

The eight-month program, which helps adult students who have not completed high school enter university, offers supports – including an academic adviser, access to counselling, funding options, spaces to work and social events – to ensure students succeed in transitioning to undergraduate studies.

“I remember going to my first TYP meeting – it was opening doors to people who never would have had the qualifications or background to go to university,” Kangootui says.

Kangootui’s interest in social justice quickly found a home in her studies, which opened her eyes to inequities at home and abroad and underscored her desire to effect change.

“For example, I have people from my community who are LGBTQ – they don’t want to come out because of the stigma,” she says.

“Learning more about equity has really changed my understanding about so many things.”

Kangootui credits the TYP with allowing her to fulfil her dream of higher education – and for helping her to cultivate a network of peers who have overcome everything from addiction, language barriers, homelessness and more to work toward the same goal.

“Every story is so unique – most of us didn’t have parents who went to university. I think all of us realized that it was something we had to do,” she says. “The people that I have met in the program, we are still together to this day – it’s a real community.”

“Even though we may come from different backgrounds and speak different languages, we all still need a place where we feel that we belong.”

She’s also grateful for the mentorship and guidance of faculty and lecturers Francis Ahia, Stan Doyle-Wood, Chevy Eugene and Joanne Valin, as well as program director Lance McCready, registrar Shane Wallace and program administrator Maru Rodriguez.

“Floria was a committed, conscientious TYP student who built a strong network of support,” says McCready, associate professor of leadership, higher and adult education at �鶹��Ƶ’s Ontario Institute for Studies in Education.

“She is a shining of example of the transformative power of undergraduate studies and the importance of investing in education access for mature students.”

During her studies, Kangootui served as the upper-year representative of the African Studies Course Union and volunteered with Fife House, an organization providing supportive housing and support services to people living with HIV.

“Now I can understand others’ struggles based on my experience, and want to give back in any way I can. That’s my goal for the future,” she says.

Kangootui plans to live up to that commitment through the next step in her educational journey – she’ll start a master’s degree at �鶹��Ƶ’s Factor-Inwentash Faculty of Social Work in the fall – and hopes her achievement will inspire her seven-year-old daughter.

She has a simple message for others facing challenges on the path to university: “School does not have any age – we can all do it. If I was able to go to school given my whole journey, and as a single mother, then everyone can do it.”

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Transitional Year Programme

With a degree in Indigenous studies, �鶹��Ƶ grad Alicia Corbiere aims to build on her family’s legal legacy

bresgead — Tue, 06 Jun 2023 17:39:30 +0000

With a degree in Indigenous studies, �鶹��Ƶ grad Alicia Corbiere aims to build on her family’s legal legacy

bresgead Tue, 06/06/2023 - 13:39

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Alicia Corbiere, who is graduating with a degree in criminology and Indigenous studies, is headed to �鶹��Ƶ’s Faculty of Law this fall (photo by Johnny Guatto)

Adina Bresge

Convocation 2023

Indigenous Studies

Faculty of Arts & Science

Subheadline

'Indigenous studies has so much to offer – and that should be taken seriously'

Alicia Corbiere says she felt like there wasn’t a place for her Indigenous identity inside the classroom before she came to the University of Toronto.

Growing up, Corbiere says, her mother pulled her and her sister out of school to give them first-hand lessons in history through her work as a lawyer and executive director of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission.

Kimberly Murray brought her daughters to national events held by the commission to hear witnesses share their stories about the harms and painful legacy of Canada’s residential school system.

“[My mom] would tell us, ‘This is important. They’re going to teach this in history classes,’” Corbiere says. “I remember I didn’t believe her at the time.”

Her skepticism stemmed from her personal experience in elementary and high school. Corbiere, who is Ojibwe and Mohawk, says on the rare occasions her teachers touched on Indigenous subjects, they would often ask her to educate rest of her class since she was the only Indigenous student.

“They’d be like, ‘Oh, Alicia, how do you pronounce this?’” Corbiere recalls. “And I was like, ‘Well, I’m not Mi’kmaq, so I can’t pronounce that.’”

Corbiere says she drifted away from her culture as a teenager, but re-engaged when she began learning from Indigenous professors at �鶹��Ƶ and studying Anishinaabemowin (photo by Johnny Guatto)

When it came time to apply to university, Corbiere says she worried she wouldn’t fit into the world of academia – until she discovered that �鶹��Ƶ offered a program where she could engage with her heritage, history and culture from a scholarly perspective.

“I didn’t even know Indigenous studies existed,” Corbiere says. “That is the reason I chose the school.”

Four years later, Corbiere is graduating from the Faculty of Arts & Science as a member of University College, with a double major in criminology and Indigenous studies.

Both in the classroom and at First Nations House, Corbiere says connecting with her community at �鶹��Ƶ has given her the confidence to join the family business of making history by studying Indigenous law when she enters �鶹��Ƶ’s Faculty of Law this fall.

“It’s important for us to not feel embarrassed or [deterred from] focusing on our own scholarship and academics,” Corbiere says. “Indigenous studies has so much to offer – and that should be taken seriously.”

While her mother made a point of immersing her in the Indigenous community of Toronto, Corbiere says she drifted away from her culture as a teenager.

But that changed once Corbiere started taking Indigenous studies courses taught by Indigenous professors who challenged “damaged-centred” narratives that reinforce stereotypes about Indigenous Peoples being broken or conquered. In their place, Corbiere engaged with research frameworks rooted in resilience and cultural reclamation.

“When I came to �鶹��Ƶ, that's when I was able to really return to how my mom raised me, how she wanted us to see ourselves and live our lives.”

Corbiere also started studying Anishinaabemowin.

“That completely changed my life in every way,” she says. “People say you start seeing the world a little differently once you learn about a second language, and I feel that way about my language.”

Corbiere participates in the Indigenous Graduation celebration at First Nations House (photo by Nicole In)

Soon after arriving at �鶹��Ƶ, Corbiere became a fixture at First Nations House. But she says when COVID-19 turned campus life upside down, she found herself feeling disconnected from her community.

After about two years of remote learning, Corbiere says was eager to get involved in extracurricular activities. She was tapped to help revitalize the Indigenous Students’ Association, which introduced her to Indigenous students from a wide range of disciplines – many of whom hadn’t yet had the chance to find community in the classroom.

“I had a lot of people tell me, ‘This is the first time I'm making Indigenous friends at �鶹��Ƶ,’” she says. “To be able to be a part of bringing the (ISA) back and bringing so many people together has been so special for me.”

As one of the ISA’s Marten Clan leaders, Corbiere helped cook lunches, planned special events and hosted an Anishinaabemowin study group.

Michael White, director of �鶹��Ƶ's First Nations House and Indigenous Student Services, said he’s confident Corbiere will bring that same community-building spirit to �鶹��Ƶ Law.

“She brings such a positive mental attitude and a willingness to engage. These are really important qualities as she moves into this sphere of life,” White says. “She’s going to do amazing things.”

While she had her pick of graduate schools, Corbiere said she decided to stay at �鶹��Ƶ because of the opportunities to learn about traditional law and legal sovereignty from scholars such as John Borrows, a professor and Loveland Chair in Indigenous Law.

It’s likely that she’ll come across a few familiar names in her coursework.

Corbiere, fourth from right, poses for a group photo at the Indigenous Graduation celebration at First Nations House (photo by Nicole In)

Her father, Gary Corbiere, was among the lawyers who successfully argued the landmark case Corbiere vs. Canada, in which the Supreme Court of Canada found that a section of the Indian Act restricting off-reserve band members from voting in band elections was in violation of the Charter. He drowned when she was three years old, prompting Murray to put her two daughters in swimming lessons – a decision that ultimately led the pair to competitive swimming when they got older.

Meanwhile, Murray followed up her work with the Truth and Reconciliation Commission by becoming Ontario’s first assistant deputy attorney general for Indigenous Justice. Last year, the federal government appointed Murray as independent special interlocutor for missing children and unmarked graves and burial sites associated with former residential schools.

Corbiere says her undergraduate studies at �鶹��Ƶ have set her up to build on her family’s legal legacy.

“Just seeing what my parents accomplished – especially my dad in his short life – has really inspired me to continue on,” said Corbiere. “My mom worked on a lot of criminal law cases and cases working with Canadian law, but now she talks a lot about how important legal sovereignty is.

“I feel like I can pick up from where she left off.”

�鶹��Ƶ hosts global scholars for NAISA conference on Indigenous Studies

siddiq22 — Thu, 11 May 2023 20:57:30 +0000

�鶹��Ƶ hosts global scholars for NAISA conference on Indigenous Studies

siddiq22 Thu, 05/11/2023 - 16:57

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The 14th-annual Native American and Indigenous Studies Association (NAISA) conference, which is expected to draw 1,000 attendees from around the world, kicks off in Convocation Hall on �鶹��Ƶ's St. George campus (photo by Johnny Guatto)

Topic

Indigenous Initiatives

Centre for Indigenous Studies

Faculty of Arts & Science

Global

Research

Women and Gender Studies

The University of Toronto will welcome Indigenous scholars and researchers from around the world this week for the 14th annual Native American and Indigenous Studies Association (NAISA) conference.

The conference, which is expected to draw 1,000 attendees, will be held on �鶹��Ƶ’s St. George campus from May 11 to 13.

Susan Hill and Karyn Recollet (photos supplied)

NAISA is an interdisciplinary professional organization that brings together faculty and students from post-secondary institutions (including several �鶹��Ƶ scholars); community-based scholars, artists and Elders; and independent professionals working in the field of Indigenous Studies.

“NAISA came about in order to create a place where Indigenous Studies scholars could meet and work on the broad themes that tie us together, and to advance a broader understanding of the importance of Indigenous Studies to academia. Strengthening Indigenous Studies positions us to better support Indigenous communities and Nations,” said conference co-chair Susan Hill, director of �鶹��Ƶ’s Centre for Indigenous Studies and an associate professor of Indigenous Studies and history in the Faculty of Arts & Science.

With sessions planned on everything from food sovereignty to language revitalization and contemporary Indigenous cinema, the 2023 event is the first in-person NAISA conference since 2019, when it was hosted by the University of Waikato in New Zealand. �鶹��Ƶ had planned to host the 2020 conference, which was cancelled due to the pandemic and rescheduled for this year.

The conference will highlight how Toronto – which originates from the Mohawk word “Tkaronto,” meaning “where the trees stand in the water” – has been home to the Haudenosaunee and Anishinaabe Peoples and part of the original homelands of the Wendat People.

�鶹��Ƶ News spoke with Hill and fellow conference co-chair Karyn Recollet, assistant professor in the Women & Gender Studies Institute in the Faculty of Arts & Science, about what to expect at NAISA 2023 – which will include panel and roundtable discussions, presentations of research papers, film screenings, performances and more.

Hundreds of attendees are coming from around the world – what will they experience at this year’s NAISA conference?

Hill: One of the things that we committed to as the local host committee was to take the lead in terms of our own cultural values that we bring from our specific communities – and also honouring the practices that are common in the Toronto Indigenous community.

One of those key pieces was about ethical care and doing our best to provide spaces that would meet people’s needs – so we were very purposeful in choosing locations that were close together.

It was also important for us to feed our guests – that’s a key value that’s embodied in the communities all around us. When you come to somebody’s home, they will offer you a meal or a beverage. That’s such an important part of hospitality, and in inviting our friends and colleagues from around the world, we want to make sure we’re treating them as if they were coming into our home.

We’re particularly excited about the fact that we've partnered with local Indigenous chefs to help make that happen and to provide our guests with the foods that come from the land and the waters of the territory.

In academia, sometimes we take food for granted and think, “Oh, it's just fuel for the body.” But in Indigenous cultures, we're taught that it's food for our mind, our body and our souls. And so we've tried to make that as fruitful as possible in this gathering, and also in everything we do in nourishing people’s minds, bodies and spirits in the work we’re doing together.

Through NAISA’s call for papers and in your planning, did any themes for the conference emerge?

(photo by Tabassum Siddiqui)

Recollet: In reaching out to our various partners – including �鶹��Ƶ Mississauga – when we were starting to imagine what this conference would look like, some very interesting interconnections and webs started to develop, which helped the planning process quite a bit.

We knew that to determine the shape of our gathering, we wanted to focus on Black and Indigenous relationships, on queer and Two-Spirit thought and thinking, and to acknowledge that Toronto is a very special place that has a unique relationship to water. That helped us to think through some of the main ideas and offerings we might be able to have. Drawing on our relationships with the land – and with each other – helped in mapping things out.

What will be some of the highlights at this year’s conference?

Hill: One of the goals that NAISA has always tried to embody with their conferences is recognizing that the papers that get proposed and accepted are going to come from all over the place, but also making sure that there's time and space for both the people coming from other places, as well as the people from the local area, to have the opportunity to learn more about the host area.

Here in in Toronto, we've tried to be really thoughtful about the ways that we curate those particular opportunities – for example, we’ll have walking tours of our campus, OCAD University, Toronto Metropolitan University, the Art Gallery of Ontario and the Royal Ontario Museum. So, the folks who are coming to our campus from all over the world have a chance to learn about some of the things that are happening here on the ground in our city, at our universities and arts organizations.

Recollet: Another special moment we’ve envisioned is offering opportunities for graduate-student mentorship, where the students can sit and share a meal together and talk to each other about their work and knowledge transmission.

We’ve also curated spaces called “CARE Hubs” in both the buildings that are hosting the sessions, because sometimes conferences can be draining – you might need a quiet space to centre and just enjoy solitude. So those will have cots, medicines, soothing music, some magazines – spaces to relax and enjoy.

The welcome ceremony at Convocation Hall will feature singers and drummers, and we encourage everyone to visit the book fair and market hall at the Howard Ferguson Dining Hall, where more than 30 publishers and academic institutions will be set up.

What do you hope attendees take away from the conference?

Hill: We hope that all our visitors will have the opportunity to engage with some amazing people who are connected within this global network and are able to walk away with a deeper understanding about the vitality and rigour of Indigenous studies.

A lot of times people think it’s just about culture, but it’s important to understand the deep knowledge that goes into the revitalization and the celebration of the cultures from which we come – and the hard work being put into creating vibrant futures for the generations to come.

Non-Indigenous learners taking up Indigenous languages to support revitalization: CBC Radio

Christopher.Sorensen — Wed, 29 Mar 2023 17:41:38 +0000

Non-Indigenous learners taking up Indigenous languages to support revitalization: CBC Radio

Christopher.Sorensen Wed, 03/29/2023 - 13:41

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Ninaatig Staats Pangowish, an assistant professor at the Centre for Indigenous Studies, says people of all backgrounds have a role to play in revitalizing Anishinaabemowin and other endangered Indigenous languages (photo courtesy of Duncan McCue/CBC)

Topic

Our Community

Indigenous Studies

Academics

Centre for Indigenous Studies

Indigenous

A growing number of non-Indigenous students are taking up Indigenous languages through courses such as those offered at the University of Toronto, CBC Radio reports.

Ninaatig Staats Pangowish, an assistant professor at the Centre for Indigenous Studies, says he welcomes non-Indigenous learners into his classes because people of all backgrounds have a role to play in revitalizing Anishinaabemowin and other endangered Indigenous languages.

“If I want my language to be a national [or] regional language in Canada, it can't just be Anishinaabeg who speak it,” Staats Pangowish tells reporter Duncan McCue on The Current.

Sara McDowell, a master’s student at �鶹��Ƶ, has interviewed language teachers and elders for her thesis on how non-Indigenous people can best support the revitalization of First Nations languages.

"When we learn Indigenous languages, it's a way of saying, 'We recognize that you're here, we respect you, we think your languages are important and so are you. And we want to work together to change things,’” says McDowell, a self-described Canadian settler who has studied Anishinaabemowin for about 12 years.

Listen to the documentary on CBC Radio’s The Current

Sixth annual Honouring Our Students Pow Wow brings together Indigenous community

mattimar — Tue, 17 May 2022 15:44:35 +0000

Sixth annual Honouring Our Students Pow Wow brings together Indigenous community

mattimar Tue, 05/17/2022 - 11:44

Cutline

Lua Mondor, a second-year art history student, was one of 10 dancers who took part in the filming of the sixth annual Honouring Our Students Pow Wow (photo by Johnny Guatto)

Topic

Faculty of Arts & Science

Indigenous

Powwow

Undergraduate Students

On a recent sunny afternoon at the University of Toronto’s back campus fields, Lua Mondor took her place in front of the cameras.

With music by Young Tribe blaring on the speakers, the metal cones on her jingle dress – made from the lids of chewing tobacco cans – chimed as she began her performance for the sixth annual Honouring Our Students Pow Wow.

In her second year of art history in �鶹��Ƶ’s Faculty of Arts & Science, Mondor says she is the first in her immediate family to take part in powwow dancing – part of an effort to connect more deeply with her heritage.

“My mom grew up in the foster care system, so we don’t know where she came from – we still don’t know her exact reserve,” Mondor says.

She adds that she began dancing during the pandemic and has already inspired her younger sibling to follow in her footsteps.

“We jam out to powwow music in my room.”

Mondor is one of the 10 dancers who was filmed in-person for this year’s Honouring Our Students Pow Wow event, which is being presented in a hybrid format and is hosted by the Indigenous Studies Students’ Union (ISSU).

With the help of �鶹��Ƶ’s Faculty of Kinesiology & Physical Education, the ISSU recently filmed dancers on the St. George campus. The video will launch on May 20 at 12 p.m. ET on the ISSU’s YouTube channel. The clips will be edited together with community submissions, an opening prayer and more.

ISSU president Teagan de Laronde, who is specializing in Indigenous studies and minoring in political science and religion, and ISSU co-ordinator Anna Feredounnia-Meawasige, were both excited to hold a portion of the powwow in-person.

“It’s nice to have that sense of community again and kind of feel like things are getting back to that,” says Feredounnia-Meawasige, who is specializing in Indigenous and environmental studies and minoring in environmental ethics at �鶹��Ƶ.

Although the celebration will be presented virtually, Feredounnia-Meawasige wants to make sure the event embodies the “essence” of an in-person powwow.

“One big thing is that we usually try to have an opening prayer, which is standard protocol whether you’re in-person or online. We go through a list of protocols so that usually signifies that this is a special and cultural event,” she explains.

As for Mondor, she excitedly shares why her regalia – including a black jingle dress – holds so much meaning.

“Our dresses have spirits in them,” she says. “My dress is a healing dress, it came about in the Spanish flu. An Elder had a dream about this dress because there was a lot of sick people in their village.”

There are variations of the story but, as Mondor tells it, after the Elder’s dream, the women in the village sewed the jingle dress and it eventually healed a sick girl.

Mondor says that dancing in powwows has helped her reclaim her roots. To honour her ancestors, she introduced herself in Anishinaabemowin.

“It’s a way to not only introduce yourself to people, but the space around you and your ancestors because we weren’t allowed to speak the language for so many years.”

When the ISSU posted a callout for powwow dancers on social media, Sara Pitawanakwat immediately asked her nine-year-old daughter Emilee Ann if she wanted to participate.

“She hasn’t danced at a powwow since the pandemic,” says Pitawanakwat, who is originally from Wiikwemkoong Unceded Territory on Manitoulin Island. “Being dressed in her regalia brings out her spirit as a child and it makes her happy.”

Pitawanakwat sewed her daughter’s regalia, noting she was just 15 months old when she danced her first powwow with her cousin. “She was so effortless and danced as if she knew how to dance already,” Pitawanakwat says. “It was so beautiful. It was in that moment; I knew I had to start making her regalia.”

Nine-year-old Emilee Ann Pitawanakwat wears regalia that was sewn by her mother (photo by David Lee)

Not only a talented dancer, Emilee Ann is also an award-winning co-director of a Canadian music video thanks to a chance encounter with Toronto recording artist Andrea Ramolo at an Every Child Matters march last year – a meeting that led to a close bond and an opportunity for collaboration.

“She approached us and asked if Emilee Ann would be willing to star in her music video,” says Pitawanakwat, adding that Ramolo and Emilee Ann then had several brainstorming sessions about what the artist’s song “Free” meant to her. She co-directed and starred in the music video.

In March, the music video won a Canadian Independent Music Video Award in the folk category.

“I’m so proud of her accomplishments and where dance has taken her,” said Pitawanakwat. “As long as she loves it… she’s performed at so many places, it’s opened a lot of doors for her.”

As for de Laronde, this year’s powwow holds special meaning since she is graduating this year. She says the ISSU events are her way of “saying goodbye to the university.”

Feredounnia-Meawasige, meanwhile, plans to do her master’s degree at �鶹��Ƶ in ecology and evolutionary biology – and hopes that she can participate in the powwow planning next year and that it will return to a fully in-person event.

“I really enjoy having my community around me, it makes me feel better and it makes me happier,” she says.

'Strong in both worlds': �鶹��Ƶ grad builds bridges between Indigenous and Western worldviews

geoff.vendeville — Mon, 07 Feb 2022 19:06:31 +0000

'Strong in both worlds': �鶹��Ƶ grad builds bridges between Indigenous and Western worldviews

geoff.vendeville Mon, 02/07/2022 - 14:06

Cutline

Itoah Scott-Enns, who owns Įdaà Strategies in Yellowknife, started the #SpeakTłı̨chǫToMe social media campaign to promote the use of Tłı̨chǫ (photo courtesy of Itoah-Scott-Enns)

Topic

Faculty of Arts & Science

Indigenous

Woodsworth College

As a proud Tłı̨chǫ Dene who was born and raised in Denendeh – the Dene word for their traditional land in the Northwest Territories – Itoah Scott-Enns spends a lot of time building bridges between Western and Northern Indigenous knowledge and worldviews.

The University of Toronto alumna is the owner of Įdaà Strategies in Yellowknife, which facilitates culturally rooted, community-based development that recognizes community members as the experts.

“We have a phrase in my language that translates to ‘being strong like two people,’” says Scott-Enns, who earned a bachelor's degree in Indigenous studies and ethics, society and law with distinction from �鶹��Ƶ’s Faculty of Arts & Science in 2014. ”It was coined by my great aunt, Elizabeth Mackenzie, based on a concept from one of our former chiefs.

“It's about recognizing we live in a world now where we have to stay strong in our traditional knowledge and culture while also learning to collaborate with Western and modern ways, so that we're strong in both worlds.”

Scott-Enns, who was a member of Woodsworth College, recalls dealing with the culture shock that comes with traveling thousands of kilometres away from home to attend university.

“It was hard to be away from my family and my community while going on that learning journey. But by the end of my time in Toronto, I was super comfortable there,” she says.

“The opportunity to leave the North really contributed to my overall knowledge. It was a good growing experience, living outside of the norm, learning more about other people's cultures and building networks and connections.”

Ironically, Scott-Enns says being far from home rekindled her interest in her own culture as she learned more about residential schools, colonialism and reconciliation – especially from Lee Maracle, the celebrated writer, activist and Indigenous Studies instructor at �鶹��Ƶ who died last fall at age 71.

“Lee taught me about what reconciliation really means, and how to navigate those hard conversations so we can and figure out how to bring Western and Indigenous knowledge together to build stronger communities,” she adds.

“A lot of the work I do is about building bridges. Having the chance to get an education and spend some time outside the North helped me understand that.”

In 2015, just a year after arriving at �鶹��Ƶ, Scott-Enns founded the #SpeakTłı̨chǫToMe social media campaign to promote the learning and use of Dene languages, especially Tłı̨chǫ.

“I think the passion for wanting to reclaim my language really started when I was at �鶹��Ƶ, because I grew up not speaking it, and my grandparents did not speak English, which had a really big impact on my life,” Scott-Enns says.

Through #SpeakTłı̨chǫToMe, Scott-Ens shares stories and videos about her own learning journey, including teaching her daughter Tłı̨chǫ. She encourages others by pointing out her own mistakes and acknowledging the difficulty of the learning process while emphasizing that it's OK to make mistakes.

The feedback she’s received from young people in her community has been extremely rewarding, she says.

After graduating from �鶹��Ƶ, Scott-Enns spent four years as executive director of the Arctic Funders Collaborative, where she led the development of the Arctic Indigenous Fund (AIF), designed by Indigenous leaders recruited from across the circumpolar Arctic.

“The result is a philanthropic fund for Indigenous communities, by Indigenous communities, that does grantmaking according to our Indigenous ways of life for our communities,” says Scott-Enns, who serves as a mentor to the fund manager.

In 2020, she published a report for the International Funders for Indigenous Peoples network about the importance of Indigenous-led funds like the AIF.

She started Įdaà Strategies two years ago to focus on supporting northern Indigenous communities.

“I help our communities brainstorm what values rooted in our culture, language and way of life should be guiding our future and how to work toward that, while understanding the complexities of the mixed world that we live in,” she says.

“For instance, helping communities figure out how to build on their ways of doing things, but also communicate in ways that need to happen with government policy, which is often rooted in Western values.”

Scott-Enns also sits on the board of directors for Indspire, a national charity that awards funding to post-secondary students, which she says is a perfect fit with the value she places on education and the opportunities she was given.

Currently on maternity leave after the birth of her second daughter last fall, Scott-Enns is excited about what lies ahead.

“There's so much work to be done. I don't have the capacity to do it by myself. I'm hoping that after my maternity leave, I can start focusing on expanding the business and hiring more people to help with it,” she says.

“There's lots of Dene people who are really craving work that's meaningful, and that lets them build on their knowledge, culture and language and strengthen that within our communities.”

Samantha Martin-Bird began writing as a pandemic pastime – and won an award

Christopher.Sorensen — Tue, 28 Sep 2021 15:01:42 +0000

Samantha Martin-Bird began writing as a pandemic pastime – and won an award

Christopher.Sorensen Tue, 09/28/2021 - 11:01

Cutline

Samantha Martin-Bird, a �鶹��Ƶ alumna who is a member of Peguis First Nation, recently won the 2021 Indigenous Voices Award for unpublished poetry in English (photo by Sarah McPherson)

Sarah MacFarlane

Topic

Our Community

Indigenous Studies

Centre for Diaspora and Transnational Studies

�鶹��Ƶ

Faculty of Arts & Science

Humanities

Indigenous

Poetry

St. Michael's College

University of Toronto alumna Samantha Martin-Bird began writing during the pandemic – and it wasn’t long before her work was noticed.

She recently won the 2021 Indigenous Voices Award for unpublished poetry in English for “the indian (adultery) act & other poems.”

But Martin-Bird’s poetry wasn’t destined to remain unpublished for long. ROOM, Canada’s oldest feminist literary journal, recently featured “the indian (adultery) act” in its Indigenous Brilliance issue, lauding the poem for its use of “humour and a calm severity to expose the racist policies enacted by the Indian Act.”

A member of Peguis First Nation, Martin-Bird grew up in Kitchener-Waterloo and Upstate New York before moving to Toronto to attend �鶹��Ƶ. She majored in Indigenous studies and diaspora and transnational studies, earning her honours bachelor of arts in 2014 as a member of St. Michael’s College. She then completed a bachelor of education program focused on Indigenous pedagogy at the First Nations University of Canada in Regina.

In 2019, Martin-Bird joined the Thunder Bay Public Library to help lead its decolonization initiative and, last year, she began her current role as program partner at the Mastercard Foundation, where she works on the Canada Programs team with a focus on Indigenous youth education and employment.

How important was winning the Indigenous Voices Award to your work?

I was very surprised to win the award because I only started writing in the past year as a pandemic hobby. The recognition from this award has led to a few unexpected opportunities to share my work with others at poetry events, and so I’m thankful for that.

What inspired you to write “the indian (adultery) act & other poems”?

The poems are about men, the land and the languages – specifically Cree and Anishinaabemowin. I started with the poem, “the indian (adultery) act.” I drew inspiration from a conversation I had with a nêhiyaw man, who shared with me that he wished he had married a Cree girl. The irony of this confession was that he had – his wife was Cree, and, more importantly, she was a 6(1) Status Indian. However, she didn’t grow up in her community, or even in Canada. She was raised in Europe. As such, her demeanour, sense of humour and cultural identity were not Cree.

As someone who has often contemplated the extent to which status should influence who I start a family with, I was struck by the way in which finding a 6(1) partner can still end in immense marital discord and loneliness. I started the poem with the line, “i shoulda married a cree girl,” and built the poem out from there. In a way, this poem is about the way the Indian Act continues to wreak havoc on Indian relationships.

What drew you to �鶹��Ƶ for your undergrad, and how was your experience?

I chose the University of Toronto for its program in Indigenous studies. Although I didn’t know it existed until my second year, I also thoroughly enjoyed the diaspora and transnational studies program.

My experience as a �鶹��Ƶ student was transformative. Before moving to Toronto, I was living in a small semi-rural town in Upstate New York. I spent much of my first year quite culture-shocked, but I am so thankful for the time I spent at �鶹��Ƶ. I enjoyed my programs, especially the Anishinaabemowin courses I took.

I lived on campus for my entire degree, so I was also able to participate in many campus experiences, such as dorm life and student clubs, where I formed a lot of lifelong friendships.

Can you tell us about your work in developing and leading initiatives that focus on Indigenous engagement and education?

During my time working as the Indigenous relationships supervisor at the Thunder Bay Public Library, I was able to work in a variety of ways to continue the decolonization work of the library. I focused on trying to create spaces that were welcoming and safe for Anishinaabeg. I organized events that featured Indigenous speakers, authors, poets and writers. I started an Indigenous book club exclusively for Indigenous library users. I also helped deliver a program with Sheridan College that led to the co-creation of Indigenous furniture for the library.

For the past year, I have been working at the Mastercard Foundation on the EleV program. This work is focused on addressing inequities in employment and education so that Indigenous young people can realize their visions of Mino-Bimaadiziwin, the good life. Our work prioritizes systems change by partnering with post-secondary institutions and Indigenous-led organizations. Across the country, young people are the drivers of change in their communities; my role at the foundation is to ensure Indigenous young people are included in the ongoing design and delivery of our partnerships.

How did your degree in Indigenous studies and diaspora and transnational studies help prepare you?

My experience in Indigenous studies in university was one of the first times I had the opportunity to learn about Indigenous history, including the history of residential schools and colonization, and to study an Indigenous language (Anishinaabemowin). The program also helped me better understand my own family history. I did not understand the ways in which colonialism and intergenerational trauma affected us before that program. Ultimately, it helped me understand the ways in which colonialism is the root of many of the challenges Indigenous communities face today, which has helped me in my career working with Indigenous communities.

What’s next for you?

I hope to continue to work for Indigenous young people through my role at the Mastercard Foundation.