I’m not a complainer. I’m not. I try to stay up these days, opting for the sunny side of life and choosing to see the light through the trees (or whatever the saying is).
But I’m here to tell you that goddamn it is writing fucking hard.
It’s just really fucking hard.
But I think it’s harder than it has to be because I make it that way.
Today, I’m writing because I need to remind myself that not everything I write needs to be a “thing.”
Sometimes, I can write about sandwiches, or being a dad, or colonialsm. On other days I can write about being a dad that likes sandwiches and fucking hates colonialism.
And.
Why the fuck am I always writing about colonialism, anyway.
Yes, colonialism is the foot on the throat of Indigenous Peoples here in Canada; it’s in the DNS of North America and the dark truth of the world. Colonialism has set the course of the planet, and the result is unbridled capitalism and our rapid ascension to destroying this planet with hopes of finding a way to live on another planet.
But I can’t accept that.
I am Anishinaabe. Our prophecies, our stories, our dibajimowiinan, tell us we are supposed to be here. Therefore, I need to find a way to live here with my children, my partner, our families, and our extended circle. That means there is a fight to have every day in the face of colonization.
But it is exhausting.
And maybe I’m not unique.
Maybe every Indigenous creative feels like their work needs to swing in the dark at the monsters we can’t see but feel every day. Maybe it is a BIPOC creative thing, where we need to fight like hell for the space we have and fight even harder for the space we need.
I don’t want to give up the fight; that’s not an option. The project for me is Indigenous liberation in our homelands or bust. Period.
I need to fight the urge to make all of my writing a “thing” about the “bigger thing” and remember to live.
Just live.
I need to remember that it’s okay to write about sandwiches and the art of making delicious turkey sandwiches on nice fresh bread with the best cheese you have in the fridge. A hot Dijon mustard dresses this bad boy, obviously.
Christ.
I’m rereading this short essay now, and wouldn’t you know it, I couldn’t help myself of course, I’ve managed to write about colonization in a short essay meant to say I’m sick of writing about colonization and that I’m going to consciously make an effort to just write for the joy of it, not for the purpose it serves.
I told you this is hard for me.
Anyway.
Back to the words.
Back to the joy.
Back to the freedom the words can provide for me and the people.
Here are words from a few of the best to keep me on track:
"A word after a word after a word is power."
--Margaret Atwood
"Get it down. Take chances. It may be bad, but it's the only way you can do anything really good."
--William Faulkner
"If there's a book that you want to read, but it hasn't been written yet, then you must write it."
--Toni Morrison
COMING THIS FALL ON JOKE TALK YELL WRITE
There are some posts I can bang out in an afternoon, and some I’ve been slowly working on for months.
For the posts that take me weeks to publish, researching, synthesizing, writing, and editing is a tall order when I only have a few hours a week to put into the work. One of the goals of going paid on Substack is to hire a part part-time editor to help me keep the words flowing and the writing half-decent.
Here are some things I’m working on this Fall on this Substack, some I may be able to bang out in an afternoon, some I have been writing and am still writing but will be done soon.
Here they are, with excerpts:
The Failure Of Fluency In Reconciliation
EXCERPT: I don’t necessarily believe that people have changed their minds about reconciliation completely. It might be that the equitable and just future Joe and Janet Canada promised Indigenous Peoples during their pledge to do better became an afterthought during the COVID-19 global pandemic. There’s something about the existential questions of humankind’s deepest worries, like, who’s got the toilet paper, that derails the efforts toward answers and solutions to the social and political responsibility question reconciliation asks us all to answer, “What do we do next?”
(Native) America 250
EXCERPT: America 250 is going to be a one-year-long birthday party slash tailgate party slash shouting match slash roast, it’s going to be…a thing. Everywhere you turn, it's going to smell like hot dogs and Budweiser and cheap American cigarettes and freedom and gunpowder and sadness and desperation and liberty and freedom. We may see things like every surviving US President has to do Budweiser keg stands live on Pay Per View while their wives or girlfriends stand in the background pounding In and Out burgers into their faces while their assembled grandchildren and great-grandchildren wave American flags, smile and wave, and post to Snapchat and TikTok.
Will America’s reckoning with its historical and contemporary destruction of Native America finally be thrust into the conversation as America pauses to look back on itself and eat the fattest birthday cake ever made?
This Is Not A Renaissance
This Is Not A Renaissance is a four-part series highlighting and sharing the first wave of Indigenous artists, thinkers, cultural creators, and groundbreakers that have set the table for Indigenous artists, writers, and creatives of all stripes to thrive in 2023. Part One: The NDN Group of Seven. Part Two: Music For The People. Part Three: Words For The People. Part Four: Thoughts For The People.
EXCERPT: Groundbreakers. Misfits. Instigators. Indigenous painters, Jackson Beardy, Eddy Cobiness, Alex Janvier, Norval Morrisseau, Daphne Odjig, Carl Ray and Joseph Sanchez, were sick of taking no for an answer in the Canadian art world, so they took their careers into their own hands and created one of the first independently organized, self-managed Indigenous artists’ collectives and cultural advocacy groups in Canada. The Professional Native Indian Artists Inc. (PNIAI) was established in the early 1970s in Winnipeg, Manitoba and forever changed the course of Indigenous art.
The Decolonial Little Library Presents:
We’re excited about books and stories and stories in books and stories everywhere and anywhere else. The Decolonial Little Library Presents is an interview series that will bring the voices of Indigenous writers, storytellers, and other artists working with stories to the world by giving them space to tell their own stories in their own words. We’ll pull back the curtain on their careers, processes, and experiences as storytellers.
Candid. Joyous. Indigenous.
We can’t wait to bring you this interview series!
Reconciliation Isn’t Dead, We Aren’t Brave Enough To Admit We Got It Wrong
Reconciliation in Canada has suffered the same fate as a one-hit wonder from the 80s. They took us by surprise. We listened to it while it was big on the radio. We may have even bought the T-shirt. When they toured through town, we went to the show because we wanted to hear that one song. Then, the one-hit wonder, and, seemingly, reconciliation left town, and we rarely, if ever, thought of them again. They disappeared as quickly as they arrived.
EXCERPT: Non-Indigenous allies, students, and activists will shout it in sing-song unison.
You’ll listen to medium-ish spicy takes on the failure of Canada’s commitment to Indigenous Peoples in the reconciliation era in mainstream media.
They all pronounce the same thing: Reconciliation is dead.
To some, it died as quickly as it arrived.
It was big while it was on the radio.
Some of us bought the T-shirt.
But, reconciliation is dead.
To me, this, of course, is *bullshit.
Reconciliation isn’t dead. It hasn’t even started.
Ask Indian Residential School survivors themselves if reconciliation is dead.
Ask Indian Residential School survivors who shared their story as part of the seven-year-long mandate of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, whether reconciliation is dead or not.
Ask young people, whose hearts and minds are transfixed and inspired by doing better in this country in the name of justice, equity, and the liberation of Indigenous Peoples in our homelands.
Reconciliation isn’t dead. We just aren’t brave enough to admit that, so far, we’ve got it wrong.
And so much more.
I’m writing about audience and Indigenous trauma. I’m writing about community vs. networking. I’m writing about ditching social media in 2022 and 2023. I’m writing about healing and making amends. My short story series, Life According To Clarence Two Toes, will take life this Fall. I’m writing about my relationship with alcohol and my relationship with myself. And finally, pieces of my memoir will find their way out into the world.
And more daily podcast.
And video.
And live video hangs with paid members.
Until next time!
Thanks for being here.
This morning, when I brushed my teeth, I didn't think, "I'm an Indian brushing my teeth." But I did think, "Jeez, I need to floss more regularly." About 99% of us need to floss more regularly, right? That's a universal. I'd venture that you don't spend nearly as much time thinking about colonization as you think you might. There are errands to run, chores to do, everyday tasks to accomplish. We think about our livers, our friends, our kids. We worry about finances. There are so many emotions running through us all day long that are universally human. Do Indians experience romantic love in a way different than other people? In the cultural details, yes, but I'm married to an Indian woman and our love story, while being very Indian, is also many other things. We're huge baseball fans so that's taking up a lot of our attention now as our Mariners are fighting for a playoff spot. In short, I think we Native artists limit outselves when we only write about politics. I mean—aren't the most irritating people in your life the ones who only talk politics?
Go Blue Jays. LOL. And. Thanks for taking the time for this, a very good reminder.