In February 2020, the Department of Indigenous Studies posted a letter in support of Wet’suwet’en land protectors who are defending their traditional territory from the Coastal GasLink pipeline, which seeks to transport liquefied natural gas. Written by Professor annie ross (Maya), “Rights, Justice, Solidarity with Wet’suwet’en” is “in support of the Wet’suwet’en to maintain their HomeLand and to live in their legal, justified, enshrined Rights to their unceded Nation and Home. We live and work in our responsibility to HomeLand Place, and are allied in solidarity with Justice actions taking place throughout Canada, Europe, the United States, many Indigenous Nations, and throughout the world.”
While the hereditary Wet’suwet’en chiefs and their supporters were defending their traditional space, we were trying to figure out how to express solidarity in the colonial spaces of ¶ˇĎăÔ°AV. The Indigenous Studies classroom and office space look into the Saywell Hall atrium that is supposed to our space. Here is a photo of the space during our departmental twentieth anniversary celebrations, with Squamish Indigenous Studies professor Rudy Reimer/Yumks doing Squamish protocols.
The classroom and office are to the right. To the left, Haida artist Jim Hart’s 2000 cedar sculpture Frog Constellation is in front of the door of the Museum of Archaeology and Ethnology, across from Indigenous Studies space. While the atrium is deemed to be Indigenous space by the university, the reality is that the atrium has to be booked through ¶ˇĎăÔ°AV’s Meetings, Events and Conferences Services. Indigenous Studies staff have to book the atrium for our events, even though the space is ostensibly ours. Our classes are disrupted be events that have nothing to do with us, including convocation, student-led events, and even Christian events.
¶ˇĎăÔ°AV students Matt Provost (Piikani) and Kim John (Sechelt), Sabine and I envisioned an event called Whose Land Are You On? in the atrium that would disrupt the colonial space of ¶ˇĎăÔ°AV. We decided to hold a spatial intervention where students, staff, and faculty would come to silkscreen T-shirts with phrases in Squamish:
We made screens, bought t-shirts, and ordered food for one hundred people. Students could bring their own t-shirts and buy ones with proceeds going to the Wet’suwet’en Defence Fund. Of course, as with much else, Covid-19 hit just before our event, which had to be cancelled or maybe postponed?
Whose Land Are You On? is an act of radical welcome and pedagogy. We invited participants to act as kin by learning about the history of Indigenous peoples at ¶ˇĎăÔ°AV by including Dr Deanna Reder’s (Cree-MĂ©tis) research about Indigenous presence on the campus. In 1968, some students wanted to rename ¶ˇĎăÔ°AV in honour of Louis Riel; instead ¶ˇĎăÔ°AV built the now-demolished student housing building, Louis Riel House. Of course, situating ¶ˇĎăÔ°AV on Musqueam (xĘ·məθkĘ·É™yĚ“É™m), Squamish (Sḵwx̱wĂş7mesh Ăšxwumixw), and Tsleil-Waututh (sÉ™lĚ“ilwĚ“É™taʔɬ) wasn’t considered by white male leftists. But Indigenous-led events like Whose Land Are You On? ensures that hearts and minds are fed.
June Scudeler