I humble myself to the force of the sunlight.
Inspired by the warmth of this ancient star, I will sit in a circle with my community and listen to the voices of our elders.
Reconciliation requires Indigenous voices to be heard and settler allies actively fighting for Indigenous self-determination, and through a soft yet firm attitude, I invite myself to show up for my people in a restorative way.
I humble myself to the force of the fire.
Aware that "writing and teaching Indigenous history are political acts", (Mihesuah 2004) and that "there can be many versions created of the same historic event depending on the author’s bias, political beliefs, social pressures" (Mihesuah 2004), I commit to carefully listen to all voices, especially mine, in each circle I join. By observing my own bias and tendencies of attachment to the oppressors' historical narratives, I slowly reconstruct the past in a way that contributes to a future founded on reconciliation.
As a symbol of my respect and reference for the Indigenous perspectives, I refer to the Indigenous knowledge as a brilliant cosmovision full of creation stories that attribute meaning and relation to each being via oral transmission and optimal quality of presence.
I humble myself to the force of the waters.
Inspired by its dynamic nature, I wash away my colonizer amnesia and clearly see the truth of the harm me and my ancestors did to this land and its guardians.
Committed to making my grandchildren proud of my actions, I deepen my sense of connection to my homeland, awakening my inner knowing and ancestral memory on how to be one with the plants, animals and the natural cycles of life.
I humble myself to the force of the wind.
I will sit silently with the dawn and the trees, listen to their songs and wait patiently without interrupting anyone. I'll be happy with each pause, respectfully making sure that everyone is done contributing with their personal experience before it is my time to share.
Aware that "sensitivity to guidelines that respect oral information, both in traditional stories and first-person accounts, can benefit all members of indigenous communities" (Trimble et al 2008), I will observe time & place, set & setting, before I speak my works, specially if their are connecting ancestral native wisdom to the contemporary globalized times.
When it is my time to share, I will recognize myself as a first-generation settler of the Brazilian diaspora living in Syilx Okanagan territory. I kneel and bow my forehead to the ground in gratitude for the strength and resilience that pulses from this land I walk, study and nourish myself with.
I humble myself to the force of the earth.
Like every single plant within this wise ancient soil that I live, move and exist, there is a native seed within me that has a way of being that is unsurrendered, unceeded and will never experience genocide.
Because I "understand that how history is written can directly impact modern Native people for good and bad" (Mihesuah 2004), I'm committed to planting the seed within me that knows the truth of the land in the fertile soil of the way I show up and the relationships I tend to.
This sacred seed has the same light, fierce and healing forces as each plant-being that faithfully grows towards its full bloom after every harsh winter.
Bibliography cited:
Mihesuah, D. (2004). Ch.8. Should American Indian history remain a field of study? in Indigenizing the Academy: Transforming Scholarship and Empowering Communities (pp. 143-159).
Trimble et al. (2008). Ch.1. Indigenous oral history. The American Indian oral history manual: Making many voices heard (pp.15-23).
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