Celestial kinships

From the first gathering, the thought and feeling that we are deeply spiritual people perpetuated throughout the inquiry. In our circle, as Métis, we are strengthened both by Christian and Traditional teachings. Photos that were shown at the second gathering illustrate the connectedness that we feel to the land, our families, and the inheritances of our ancestors. The question of, what is alive in our experiences, has carried me through this journey. The aliveness in our experiences speaks to the spirit connection that we experience as we move through each day. When we are connected, we feel alive, we feel full of life, this to me is spirituality. In a YouTube Video, Cree scholar and Willie Ermine, and Piikani Elder, Reg Crowshoe (2016), share with the audience perspectives on the ethical space. Elder Ermine shares that spirituality is, “having to do with inwardness, feelings, emotions, and values rather than the physical outward, the way I’m dressed…” (11:42-11:50). He further articulates that when we are interacting, we feel energy which can also be thought of as spirit, for example, when we pray, we want an outcome of our prayers, therefore, the inner energy is an aliveness and influences our behaviour. (Ermine, PolicyWise for Children and Families, 2016). Elder Ermine’s words offer me a way to think about the practices in our lives. The practices that we endure animate our becoming Métis therefore, our practices are spiritual in nature. The connection that we feel through our practices to ourselves, families, communities, earth, and cosmos, is the spiritual ligaments of our humanness. As I have shared elsewhere in this work, becoming Métis is not about being Métis, it is settled in the doing, the rituals in repetition that nurture a becoming.

“We are deeply spiritual people”

Becoming Métis, for us in the circle, relied on feeling connected to a higher power that through Catholicism or Indigenous teachings, was reflected in our relationships. For Bob, “I really learned a lot, from communities, [I am] as comfortable in a sweat as I am in a Catholic church because it's one Creator”. For others, they felt spiritual in their work, I am able to give my heart and soul through my hands, yes, it’s hair, but I felt at peace with that. It’s been very spiritual for me” (Charmaine). Like Elder Ermine shared, the inner energy influences our behaviours, “I wasn’t brought up Catholic or no religious affiliation, but in thinking these things through, I came to realize that I was brought up with Métis values, because no one ever told me” (Sharon). Even if, our ancestors did not name it for us, we could still feel it; I shared this sentiment, “I have learned that spiritual doesn’t mean to be religious or religion, but to be connected…you can feel the soulness”. Our collective finds a balance in our spirituality; we do not see a hierarchy between Christianity and Indigenous beliefs. We do acknowledge the legacy of Christianity to commit genocide on our people (Fiola, 2015) however, we also understand that our ancestors have their own path to Creator. Having an understanding that there is no right or wrong faith-based practice in connecting to the spirit world in crucial while understanding that Métis do practice our Indigenous ceremonies, smudge and sweats, for example, is equally important.

Li Michif poor kiihkew / Michif as Medicine

Language is inexorably connected to culture and the language of the Métis people put words to a deep spiritual connection between the people and land, the people and each other, and the people in a changing world. Li Michif is a “unique language expressing Métis understandings of the world in which they live in both the colonial and the Indigenous languages and was created in the homes and lives of the Métis peoples” (Iseke, 2013, p. 96). The language was birthed out of kinship building processes between our mothers and fathers, aunts and uncles, and most specifically between our grandmothers, mothers, and their children. Today, throughout the Métis, there are different variations of the language based on distinct experiences with specific contexts and geographical locations.

The moment Graham and Edmee greeted each other in Michif at the first gathering, was a moment that surpassed many of our expectations (see video: hearing Michif for reminder). They participated in this inquiry because my father, his family, and my ancestors spoke Michif. Michif is understood to be the official language of the Métis however, for many individuals this is not the case. In our research circle, Cree and Bungee were languages spoken by ancestors these too have a place in defining becoming Métis. Although each of us have differing degrees of language learning, we belief that language is an essential to our Métisness. For one participant, “if we could bring the language back into Calgary, that would be profoundly helpful”. In the adjacent video, I share of a moment wherein I was able to respond immediately with Michif, “speaking Michif, not thinking how to respond, just speaking, if I don’t speak, I’m missing out on something in the world as Michif”.

Kaa-waakohtoochik: The ones who are related to each other

Our stories provided a pathway for renewing relationships with ourselves, our kin, our ancestors, and environments. The renewal of these relationships nurtured a sense of belonging for all of us; this is an important wisdom. As I listened to stories for six months, and then re-listened to them repeatedly, my understanding of this wisdom expanded. The process of renewing our relationships also acknowledged and celebrated our inherent right to belong in the myriad of relationships we exist in. Although we all lived in Calgary at the time of the inquiry, our ancestors and kin came from elsewhere. Because our cultural knowledge is tethered to different landscapes, we initially had feelings of being disconnected. Most of us, at one point or another, felt we did not belong, whether when with friends, at school, living in cities, or even the world at large. Because of these feelings, we actively pursued a sense of belonging living in cities through connecting with land, Métis folk, beading, sash weaving, food, movement, and even our daily choices. Coming together solidified and affirmed for us we do belong. Each of us pulled together the threads of our own practices and through sharing them, we felt a sense of belonging, not only to each other, but to the kinships that envelope us. Through this wisdom the dissertation title became clear, Kaa-waakohtoochik: The ones who are related to each other. We may be dispersed across the city and have both common and varying practices amongst us but we know that we are a relative to a larger kinship system beyond ourselves. As each of us calls the city home, we are equally challenged and supported by this environment in becoming Métis.