Earth kinships

Michif Elder Edmee shared with us during one gathering that context matters. For Métis, the contexts that our ancestors were enmeshed within were framed by wahkomakanak, all relations. The contexts were fluid and flowed through the self, family, community, earth, cosmos, and creation; they experienced these contexts emotionally, mentally, physically, and spiritually. Our ancestors grew up in Métis specific contexts, large kinship systems, in specific geographical locations, enacting practices of place. However, for many of us becoming Métis in contemporary times differs as we live in places that may not be part of our original contexts. Granted, many Métis were mobile (MacDougall, 2010; Podruchny & St-Onge, 2012) but we were always held within a contextualization that was Métis. Being displaced from contexts had repercussions for understanding ourselves as Métis. Our diaspora (Fiola, 2021; McCall, 2012), for some of us, is not only felt and seen through a physicality of fleeing a physical place, but when we fled, we also became disconnected to the emotional, mental, and spiritual realities of the ourselves in relationships. Each of us, in our research group, tended to our own practices in insular ways, within our own families, or on individual bases. Coming together revealed that we are not alone in our efforts; we are dedicated to bringing those contexts with us working to reify them in the places we find ourselves. Understanding our position with earth, land, and all beings deeply influences our practices in the city. As you will see below, we seek out these relationships in different ways. Although we are challenged by urban design and development, our practices translate through the streets, hills, and rivers of the urban environment.

 Connectedness with Land

Although most of our day-to-day life is spent within the confines of human-built structures and not always with our feet set firm on land beneath us, relationships with land and all earthly beings are integral to our practices of becoming Métis. Each one of us in our research circle described a connectedness and yearning to feel an intimacy with the land wherever we are. Our connectedness and practices that forge our relationships with the earth are all different yet remain a common factor in what we defined as Métis practices. Although the forging of our relationships through land and other beings is spiritual, I focus on this here because the ways in which we establish our connectedness is also physical and tangible. Scholarship has affirmed that loving kinships with land and more-than-humans is held in Métis worldviews (Edge & McCallum, 2006; Ghostkeeper, 2007; LeClaire, 2003) and further, that our lovingness is practiced in physical ways as to solidify our relationality.

Foods and the diets that people consume reflect their culture and understanding of their environment. Our ancestors relied on sustenance from our more-than-human relatives to survive and to sustain their practices as Métis. Charmaine learned about land from her father, learned the value of reciprocity with the animals that provided them with food. Patricia learned of medicinal plants from her grandfather and how to make certain remedies. Devonn found the importance of maintaining a garden in the spring and summer not only for food, but as a healthy ritual to stay connected to plant beings. 

The physicality of kinships is a yearning that does not subside. Sharon reflected this in sharing she often craves feeling the vibrations of the land; when she does reconnect her sense of belonging is reaffirmed. This craving is a symptom of being disrupted from place and the continuity of our ancestral practices in place (Anzaldua, 2015). When a people dwell in a place overtime, they make sense of who they are through the making of that place (Basso, 1996; Ingold, 2000; Mcleod, 2000) thus, when a people are displaced so is the sense of who they are. Moving to the city were choices made by our parents/grandparents did not leave us options when we were children. Now adults, the research circle recognizes that the places that we come from are still within us and the desire to feel connected to land and place through practices is paramount in our becoming Métis. Living in cities all our lives, we have had to create those connections to feel that sense of belonging. We seek out rivers, hills, valleys, flora, and fauna to feel the being-being connections.

Urban Disconnectedness

Living in the city, challenged some in our circle in maintaining interactions with earth relatives. As humans, we are always in relationship with land and more-than-humans however, the city infrastructure is often designed without that in mind. Interactions with land are catered to the aesthetic of manicured lawns, perfectly spaced trees, and foreign natural species; the natural landscape can seem invisible. Human curated spaces may appeal to those who are enthralled by the beauty of nature but not necessarily the maintenance of loving connections with the natural environment (Salazar and Baxter, 2018). Like Bang et al., (2013) the city can be perceived through a settler colonial lens in that the natural environment has been erased and urban structures have superseded. However, as the authors illustrate, berries, sage, rosehips, and other beings exist in the landscape and we still seek those entities out for relationships (Bang, et al., 2013).

Our relatives are there, we just have to pay attention.

As our parents and grandparents moved into the cities, they had to adapt to the new environment they found themselves. Métis Elder, Elmer Ghostkeeper’s (2007) story has stayed with me as he described his own experiences of once living with the land to a transition of living off the land. For Devonn, the philosophy of living with land governs her practices of caring for the land (see Devonn’s video below). Urban landscapes can produce disruptions for us yet, in our circle, I see us fighting to live with the land instead of off.

In our discussions, we conversed that gentrification and urban sprawl are human-human curated spaces rather than human-more-than-human relationships. Designing spaces for wahkohtowin, all our relations (Devonn), is a practice that would align with Métis values (Surkan, 2018). Thinking about how we live and move through the city includes thinking about the construction of our homes and buildings, road ways, and paths. Maintaining relationships with land and beings while the earth is covered over with concrete and buildings is disheartening, “it’s heartbreaking, when you’re driving [and] see more land getting used for development it hurts my heart (Devonn)” “me too – once you put concrete on, it’s gone (Berkley)”.

Cities are large geographical enclaves that have the potential to hinder collectivity and community. The urban sprawl stretches people out all over the city often 30 - 45 mins apart. In the scheme of time, this is not a lot however, structuring our homes and communities with relationality in mind impacts our wellness and ability to connect with each other and our earth relatives. Homes are the loci for Métis kinship and cultural transference and have been for generations. Urban designs, when relationality is not considered, can hinder the practices of becoming Métis, specifically in how we relate to land but also how we access our kinship systems. Salazar and Baxter (2018) affirm, “the fundamentally ethical challenge of ecological design may be rephrased as follows: To facilitate the emergence and conservation of a human existence in conversation in which ourselves, our contemporaries, future generations and the rest of nature are seen as legitimate participants of the web of life (p. 462). Sitting together and talking about the urban environment as the place to which we want to proceed in our becoming Métis, we understand that the city and Métisness are not exclusive, but the way in which we create our environment will contribute to the ease of which we do so.

Movement and Mobility

Movement and mobility have been innate practices since the creation of our People. Mobility is a historical legacy of the Métis, whether buffalo brigades, visiting relatives, participating in the fur trade, harvesting plants and fruit, or finding employment, relying on mobility was well practiced. Family networks moved to seasonal camps during the year to seek out food sources or assemble with other familial connections. For Métis, both historically and contemporarily, movement and mobility are innate practices. Colonialism however, has penetrated our abilities to move on our own violation. Colonialism has forced Métis people from their lands by physical violence (see Métis community of Ste. madeleine as an example) and through racist and discriminatory urban policies (Burley, 2013). Being in the urban environment has not changed our mobility and movement, rather has posed different challenges to accessibility in connecting with our human and more-than-human relatives and the sources of wellness in the urban environment.

The photo of the beaded cape represents the aspirations of Berkley, a film maker, to look at the notion of borders in relation to Métis people. Restricting mobility is achieved by creating borders in landscapes as to draw distinct boundaries and formulate laws to govern people’s movements. The 49th parallel for example, was an infringement on the mobility of Métis as many of our relatives were in areas below the southern border of what is now called Canada. Borders can manifest in multifaceted ways and can cause great divisiveness. Even the provincial borders for example, have caused conflict within the Métis Nation as greater entity albeit, there has always been conflict in the Métis communities of the Red River Settlement as we are diverse people. The Peoplehood of the Métis is cemented through a large kinship system and the political agency and autonomy of our early governments (Anderson, 2014; Teillet, 2019) however, with the insertion of provincial borders there is another layer of distinguishing our Métisness.

Formulating laws, specifically the Indian Act, has had ramifications on how people move themselves through environments and contexts (Fiola, 2015, Lawrence, 2004). The Indian Act determined who is and is not an “Indian” and who is worthy of status through the government. This was a colonial legislated border that demarcated lines within our kinship systems (Innes, 2013). Still to this day there are invisible borders, caused by laws, that have disrupted our relational sinew. The identification of oneself is now authorized through a card. Reg shared his thoughts with us at one gathering, “our biggest struggle to identity was when they outlawed the smudge and the Indian Act came out…when you look at today…when they give us the status card, I still can’t consider freedom because it’s telling me who I am, it’s not the smudge. They have taken the smudge away and replaced it with the card, it’s not Creator giving me permission to be who I am”. In the same gathering Graham also shared, “what I do and what I am are two different things until I know who I am and that drives what I do. Having a card, is the gateway”. Mobility is moving with ease and this is hindered when you have to continually justify who you are to people who do not understand the complexities of Métisness.

My son and I attended a Métis function sometime ago; upon entering the event we had to show our Métis cards at the registration table. I took my card out of my wallet and placed it on the table. After they verified my card, they asked to see my son’s card. He doesn’t have one I said — he has a status card. Oh, they responded…I looked to them and replied, he’s Métis regardless of not having a card and we walked into the function.

My son and I have had conversations about his identity specifically, him having a status card and me having a Metis card. In school, when he fills out demographic forms, he always checks both First Nations and Métis boxes; this was a practice we decided to enact after our initial conversation.

When my son was 17 he asked me one day during a car ride — mom do I have to marry a status person so my children get status? I replied yes while continuing on the conversation to describe the Indian Act, something he had learned about in school and through our discussions at home. There was a silence that fell between us after that discussion and as we kept driving, I felt disheartened that my son has to consider this when thinking about a future for my grandchildren. (Vicki)

Many borders have been created by the government to serve colonizing objectives. These borders have subsequently disconnected us from the practices and processes that are derived from land to form, solidify, and maintain kinship systems. Borders that demarcate land jurisdictions and enforce laws that define our identities have infringed on our movement and mobility. The city can be viewed as a perimeter that excludes indigeneity and the practices that propel us in becoming who we are. However, the city can be a place where kinship connections are formed and sustained, where we visit with land and other beings, and where we resist capitalism and consumerism in order to put our relationships with sentient beings first.