Self

Itootamihk / Practice

One of my initial wisdoms was a humbling realization about the question I posed to guide my inquiry. The word, practice, was key to my research inquiry as I understood it to be viewing our micro-movements that enliven the continual process of becoming Métis. As the first gathering arrived, I was naively eager to dive into dialogue with other Métis to hear about their own practices. In first conceptualizing the inquiry, I assumed that the individuals would join the research and from the onset have stories to share about their practices. However, I did not consider that because I had been thinking and reflecting on this as part of my research for a few years, that I may have been naive and too enthusiastic in my expectations. From the onset, I noticed that the research question, and more specifically the term practice, was causing reticence for some individuals. As we sat together, sharing our family kinship lines, meeting ‘new’ relatives, I appraised that honing-in on our practices seemed like a new conversation for people. Over the first month of the inquiry, I recognized that not everyone practices openly, is aware that they are practicing, or are cognizant of what practices are Métis. Moreover, because we’re moving through the systematic impacts of colonization, layered with some being taught it has not been acceptable to be Métis, people were somewhat confounded when I asked them to tell me how they practice their Métisness. Many vocalized that they had not thought about it before, and more specifically, that it was the acute mundane acts of their everyday lives that seemed difficult to pinpoint. Some people had a hard time bringing themselves into the conversation because they were taught, or their ancestors modelled shame in being Métis. One participant, Patricia, commented that her hesitancy arose from her worry that she might be practicing Métisness in the wrong way; this sentiment was affirmed by other kin in our circle. The conversation led into essentialized notions of Métisness, specifically – the sash and jigging. These enactments are practices of Métisness, but not the only ones; it became evident that this inquiry may provide a deeper and nuanced repertoire of how we practice our self-understandings in spaces and places as to illustrate the multi-faceted nature of being and becoming Métis.

Practice, or what Métis Elder, Elmer Ghostkeeper (2007) may deem as ritual, “is the repeated patterns of Métis behaviour, created by ideas, beliefs, values, feelings, etc., using the aspects of their mind and emotion, in order to make a living” (pp. 10-11). The Michif phrase kahkiihtwaam itootamihk means, repeatedly doing, or practice. Repeating behaviours create patterns, and perhaps, meaning in one’s life. This aligns with Elder Ghostkeeper’s (2007) notion of ritual as what we do day-to-day, how we live our lives defines who we are. Our day-to-day patterns can be implicit, invisible to us, or buried in our busy schedules which can hinder our awareness and consideration of how we live our lives as Métis. Becoming Métis is generative, operative, and relational (Brubaker and Cooper 2000); our attention requires us to be attuned to what is alive in our experiences. This inquiry became a process of making living experiences explicit, exposing how we move through the world in specific ways and how we are connected to “living lineage” (Gaudry, 2018, p. 164). The criticality of explicating what is alive in our experiences cannot be understated at a time when Indigeneity has become a commodity, especially for persons claiming to be Metis who are not. The phrase kahkiihtwaam itootamihk is a verb, there is an animacy that is insinuated, people cannot suddenly become Métis because they have mixed cultural influences. As Métis scholars have worked diligently to assert our practices are inherently tethered to existing communities from inheriting a “living lineage” (Gaudry, 2018, p. 164) that has been continuous through generations (Andersen, 2014; Flaminio, Gaudet and Dorion, 2020; Laliberte, 2013). Making practices explicit will help us build our repertoire of the beautiful tapestry of Métis lifeways. We have the practices, we need to remember and reclaim where we have come from, what we carry within us, while simultaneously living our own experiences.   

The rhythm of our practices are the pulses that keep us alive, metaphorically and literally. The pulsating of our movements causes a frequency over time (Lefebvre, 2013). French theorist, Henri Lefebvre (2013) in his theorizing of rhythmanalysis aligns with Ghostkeeper’s (2007) ritual in that practices need to be repetitive and further, they need to be consistent to be ‘measured’. However, “our sensations and perceptions, in fully and continuous appearances, contain repetitive figures, concealing them…we contain ourselves by concealing the diversity of our rhythms” (Lefebvre, 2013, p. 20). The mundaneness of our practices conceals them from being visible therefore, opportunities to explicate, with others, is crucial to expose the “diversity of our rhythms” (20).  Strong and consistent frequencies are needed to ensure that our practices endure and are continuous through generations. At times, the pulse of our practices that carry our cultural knowledge and understanding, have been faint, yet not absent, they are still there. The more we understand ourselves as Métis through our practices, the more we can illuminate the aliveness of our experiences thus provoking a capacity for miyo pimatisiwin – a good life. Coming into this inquiry, I already knew that many Métis, in cities, are living good lives, and it is these stories that need to be told!