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(A series for Indigenous History Month about Indigenous authors who have meant a lot to me as an instructor and to the students I teach.)
(Photo Credit: Nadya Kwandibens)
Where do I even start with Leanne Betasamosake Simpson -- scholar, philosopher, essayist, musician, short-story writer, filmmaker?
From her website: Simpson's "work breaks open the intersections between politics, story and song—bringing audiences into a rich and layered world of sound, light, and sovereign creativity."
Sovereign creativity. Maybe I start with her passionately attentive ethical exploration of how to carry forward the philosophical principles of Nishnaabeg thought? That might be my favourite thing about her work.
Something that’s great about teaching Simpson’s writing is that she situates herself in relation to the intellectual lineage of Basil Johnston (I.O. #1).
She takes care to explain that their traditions are not identical, but this connection means the students and I can follow a thread of Anishinaabeg philosophy from Johnston to Simpson, especially through the word debwewin (whose meaning, as I understand it, is very roughly triangulated by ideas like truth, the limitations of personal knowledge, and the sound of the heart). I often teach her essay "Gdi-nweninaa: Our Sound, Our Voice," which takes up four ethical principles through exploring the definitions of four Anishinaabe words.
So if you checked out some Johnston and liked it, try Simpson; or if you were intrigued by Jo-Ann Archibald's ideas about storywork, read that essay for parallels in what research looks like when it's embedded in -- inseparable from -- cultural practice.
Or read something else entirely. There's a lot to choose from. Simpson’s short stories are beautiful; some are also songs and spoken-word pieces. I often teach the first story in her collection Islands of Decolonial Love (2013), “All of My Relatives” — it is this incredibly concentrated meditation on perception, self-perception, fear, internalized colonialism, and decolonial love. Also it's funny.
But there are any number of other amazing stories, beautiful in craft and in thinking. Simpson has also created short films and videos — so as an instructor, I can bring in all kinds of media for the class to engage with. Her essays are dazzling.
We’re almost exactly the same age and she has written seven amazing books and edited or contributed to many more and I, well now I have written this note.
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(Photo Credit: Nadya Kwandibens)
Where do I even start with Leanne Betasamosake Simpson -- scholar, philosopher, essayist, musician, short-story writer, filmmaker?
From her website: Simpson's "work breaks open the intersections between politics, story and song—bringing audiences into a rich and layered world of sound, light, and sovereign creativity."
Sovereign creativity. Maybe I start with her passionately attentive ethical exploration of how to carry forward the philosophical principles of Nishnaabeg thought? That might be my favourite thing about her work.
Something that’s great about teaching Simpson’s writing is that she situates herself in relation to the intellectual lineage of Basil Johnston (I.O. #1).
She takes care to explain that their traditions are not identical, but this connection means the students and I can follow a thread of Anishinaabeg philosophy from Johnston to Simpson, especially through the word debwewin (whose meaning, as I understand it, is very roughly triangulated by ideas like truth, the limitations of personal knowledge, and the sound of the heart). I often teach her essay "Gdi-nweninaa: Our Sound, Our Voice," which takes up four ethical principles through exploring the definitions of four Anishinaabe words.
So if you checked out some Johnston and liked it, try Simpson; or if you were intrigued by Jo-Ann Archibald's ideas about storywork, read that essay for parallels in what research looks like when it's embedded in -- inseparable from -- cultural practice.
Or read something else entirely. There's a lot to choose from. Simpson’s short stories are beautiful; some are also songs and spoken-word pieces. I often teach the first story in her collection Islands of Decolonial Love (2013), “All of My Relatives” — it is this incredibly concentrated meditation on perception, self-perception, fear, internalized colonialism, and decolonial love. Also it's funny.
But there are any number of other amazing stories, beautiful in craft and in thinking. Simpson has also created short films and videos — so as an instructor, I can bring in all kinds of media for the class to engage with. Her essays are dazzling.
We’re almost exactly the same age and she has written seven amazing books and edited or contributed to many more and I, well now I have written this note.
{rf}
