Nunda ezhibiigaadegin d’goh biigaadehknown ezhi debaahdedek nungwa manda neebing Mnidoo Mnising Neebing gah Bizh’ezhiwaybuck zhaazhi gonda behbaandih kenjih’gehjik.
This essay is part of an ongoing series reflecting on this summer’s Manitoulin Island Summer Historical Institute (MISHI).
By Clara MacCallum Fraser with Kelly King & Nicole Latulippe
Is it possible to convey the depth of embodied learning through the written word?
In the past, when I was in a similar learning environment (such as the Anishinaabe Law Camp at Neyaashiinigmiing First Nation), I was asked to put away the pen, the paper, the computer, and just listen. But really listen – listen actively, with my whole body.
It’s a scary thing. I often feel I have the memory of a goldfish, and worry that I’ll forget everything I hear or read if I don’t take copious notes.
I was told then “you’ll remember what you need to for now, the other things will emerge in time, when you need them, or when their time comes.”
This was a challenging lesson to learn, but one that I sought to work towards during the MISHI trip.
On this trip, I was reminded yet again that every time I step into this sort of immersive learning environment, whether for a moment or for an extended length of time, to learn about Indigenous ways of knowing, some piece of learning or memory from the last time appears and finds solid form. The wisps of learning from the past take shape, as new wisps appear and wait for a future when they too will find form.
Although quiet reflection and pondering is indeed necessary in order for us to work through our own thoughts and ideas, I’m beginning to learn that it is really lived experience following initial teachings, and in relationship with others, where the seeds shoot roots and begin to grow; the light turns from a hard brightness to a glowing warmth.
During this week with MISHI, I found I wasn’t alone in my worries, nor in my aspirations to listen more wholly.
A piece from Michael Belmore’s installation “Smoulder”. Carved stone, gilded copper.
Kelly, Nicole, and I have met before. Kelly and I were classmates in a course on Indigenous research methodologies taught by Dr. Deb McGregor. Nicole was a guest speaker at one of those classes. Continue reading →
For the past three-and-a-half years I have had the pleasure of working with Jean-Marie Leduc and Julie Léger on a book looking at the history of skates. Mr. Leduc is a renowned expert on skates with one of the biggest private collections in the world that has been displayed at museums and exhibitions across the country, including during the 2010 Olympics in Vancouver. When the opportunity came up a few years ago to work on a book, it seemed to me an interesting idea that would make for a good read.