Queering Mi’kma’ki: Sharing the Story of the Puoinaq

Emily Pictou-Roberts and Jess Wilton

An Indigenous artistic interpretation of the 1950 census from the Shubenacadie Agency (image 251) created by Emily Pictou-Roberts.

In the Mi’kmaw language, puoin (boo-oh-in) refers to a shaman or witch. In Mi’kmaki — the area we now call Atlantic Canada and parts of Maine and Québec—these puoinaq (plural of puoin) are sacred figures who possess the ability to shapeshift and to convoke the spirit world. In recent years, Queer and Trans Indigenous communities within Mi’kma’ki have refocused the term as a culturally specific concept of Two-Spirit identity. Compared to other Indigenous cultures across Turtle Island, the Mi’kmaq have experienced one of the longest colonial histories. As a result, there remain few traces of gender nonconformity or queerness in traditional records on the East Coast. However, with care, we can find and reclaim traces of Queer and Trans Indigenous identities across these records and narratives. Inspired by Mi’kmaw History Month, this installment of Queering Atlantic Canada troubles our understanding of region with Indigenous methodologies; it also offers a method to queering Indigenous history and culture through the Mi’kmaw language and storytelling alongside our own against-the-grain readings of the colonial record.  

Throughout our exploration of Mi’kmaw queer culture, we encountered a multitude of barriers—including a scarcity of both primary and secondary sources. One of the few secondary sources emphasizes this dearth. In Joseph Randolph Bowers’ book Mi’kmaq Puoinaq Two-Spirit Medicine, Elder Dr. Daniel N. Paul writes the forward. He discusses that “Two-Spirit gender and sexual diversity likely existed among the Mi’kmaq as something honourable and normal…But you may not find direct and clear written evidence of either of these points, depending on where you look and who was doing the writing.” In this statement, Elder Paul highlights a major concern in interpreting a Two-Spirit Mi’kmaw history: how would we approach the few sources we uncovered? Together, we attempted to bridge these issues by combining worldviews as a Two-Spirit Mi’kmaw woman and former Mi’kmaw history interpreter, and a non-Indigenous historian trained in queer and Canadian histories. Our perspectives encouraged us to consider both Indigenous oral histories and storytelling as crucial in maintaining and rekindling cultural practices and knowledge throughout historical and contemporary colonization. These oral traditions are more than folklore, legends, fables, or myths; they are fundamental to understanding the rich history of the L’nu’k (ul-noog)or The People, in the language. As Mi’kmaw professor Trina Roache asserts in her thesis on forced Mi’kmaw relocation: “oral history is an integral way to unsilence the historical narrative of Indigenous Peoples.” It is a methodology rooted in the distinct values and knowledge systems of the culture. Thus, making space for oral tradition is a necessary aspect of reclaiming and disseminating Indigenous histories and ways of knowing, even as we explore the colonial records.   

 In 1950, H.C. Rice, the superintendent of the Shubenacadie Agency (Department of Indian Affairs), tasked Tom Murray of Parrsboro with counting the “Indians” in Cumberland County for a census. Murray replied with a handwritten census, which he had organized and numbered by families, noting their name, age, and remarks such as who they lived with or their marital status. One of these remarks is a rare example in the historical record where Murray categorizes one of the Mi’kmaq as “Queer.” Considering the other remarks, “Queer” is possibly included to explain why the individual lives alone, unlike many others listed in the census, or perhaps to distinguish them from another individual with the same name a few lines below. Regardless of the initial reason for including this remark, the characterization of this individual as “Queer” indicates a few things about Queer L’nu’k histories and life stories, especially within the broader context of existing storytelling and oral histories. First, it shows that there were queer folks (who were visibly identifiable by white neighbours) living in at least some areas of Mi’kma’ki in the 1950s. We also know they were not the last, as John R. Sylliboy and Tuma Young show quite clearly with their own stories and lived experiences. We can also assume they were very likely not the first due to the recollections of our Elders. For example, Bowers explores an oral history that was told to him where Two-Spirit Mi’kmaw were the first to greet the “white man” and brought with them “sacred medicine” (182-183).  

This census record also begins to shed light on the way sexuality interplayed with colonial policies and Canadian citizenship. In the period just prior to this census, Roache identifies a “centralization policy” which fundamentally disrupted Mi’kmaw connection to home and homeland, including constructions of ni’kmaq (nee-gee-mah), or family, while making them legible to the state. Across Canada, other scholars have considered the period between 1755-1950 a period of assimilatory policies. It is likely that this census, completed by a white citizen of Nova Scotia, played a part in cataloguing the province’s centralization policies, where family structure and kinship were integral; this, in turn, made sexuality important in the way it disrupted heteronormative conceptions of family within community. However, in 1950, the Indian Affairs branch was switched from the purview of the Department of Mines and Resources to the Department of Citizenship and Immigration. Historians have noted that this change is important to the way Canadian citizenship was constructed, placing both new immigrants and natives in the same category for assimilating citizens. This is evident in the DIA’s Review of Activities 1948-1958, where the overall goal was for Indigenous peoples in Canada “to become fully participating and self-supporting members of the communities in which they live” (12). The period also marks the beginning of The Purge, where the Canadian government began the mass identification and expulsion of 2sLGBTQIA+ individuals from the military and public service. At a time when the federal government was enforcing ideas of Sexual citizenship and redefining the ideal citizen in postwar Canada, it is possible that this remark of “Queer” also points us towards an understanding of the way Indigenous Queer folks might have been affected by colonial policies and interacted with various governmental and authoritative bodies in the mid to late 20th century. 

While we have not encountered many recollections that might help deepen our understandings of Two-Spirit kinship practices or Indigiqueer interactions with the Canadian state, there is hope that more stories and oral histories will come to light. In this absence, there is still space for Two-Spirit and Queer Mi’kmaq to create and recreate new language, stories, and traditions to represent their own lived experiences and those of their Elders. For example, in recent years, the Wabanaki Two-Spirit Alliance has offered space for creating “Two-Spirit and Indigenous LGBTQ kin” in the region, including gatherings like the annual “Mawita’jik Puoinaq,” and Two-Spirit friendly cultural experiences like the “Youth Council Naming Ceremonies.” 

Ultimately, reading colonial records against the grain can offer insight into Two-Spirit histories in Mi’kma’ki despite the significant absences in source material. However, we assert that there is more power in creating contemporary Two-Spirit traditions and language as it reflects the historical possibility of Queer Mi’kmaq. While this does not negate the need for historians and archivists to find colonial records that might provide further historical context, it does require that these records be read alongside a Mi’kmaw worldview and, preferably, lived experience. Our hope is to encourage L’nu’k youth and scholars to continue the study of Two-Spirit and Queer histories and cultures throughout both academic and cultural pursuits.  

Emily Pictou-Roberts is a Two-Spirit member of Millbrook First Nation. She has previously been a Mi’kmaw History Interpreter at the Millbrook Cultural and Heritage Centre, and as Atlantic Canada’s First Auntie-in-Residence. Currently, Emily is the Indigenous Student Support and Outreach Coordinator at the University of King’s College, where she advocates for Mi’kmaw perspectives, knowledge, and approaches in support of student wellness. 

Jess Wilton is a queer historian and doctoral candidate in the department of History at York University. Her research focuses on the histories of 2sLGBTQIA+ communities in Atlantic Canada in the late 20th century. She is the guest editor of the Queering Atlantic Canada series on activehistory.ca

Further resources

Joseph Randolph Bowers, Mi’kmaq Puoinaq Two Spirit Medicine: Sexuality and Gender Variance, Spirituality and Culture

Media Co-op, Scott Neigh interview with John R. Sylliboy, “A voice for Two-Spirit people in Atlantic Canada”

Wabanaki Two-Spirit Alliance, Two Spirit-Library.

Qwo-Li Driskill, “Doubleweaving two-spirit critiques: Building alliances between native and queer studies”   

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