Take Me Home Tonight

I fly to Boston on Saturday morning to attend Graduate Horizons. Since it's a workshop that focuses on applying to graduate school, naturally it has me thinking about an eventual academic career.

I know I want to do a PhD someday and I would love to be a professor. As a huge nerd, reading and writing is my dream career. (Don't hate!) I haven't done teaching in the literal sense, but I do enjoy sharing the knowledge I have with others when they ask (and sometimes when they don't) and engaging in respectful debate.

(And, I choose to ignore anyone who tells me there are no jobs, I'll have no money and no life. Ha!)

But there are some questions that tug at me...

What will it be like to potentially be the only Anishinabekwe in my grad program?

Do my reasons for wanting to do a PhD differ from those of settlers?

How can I involve my family/community/nation in the application or research processes?

How might having a PhD affect how I am perceived within Indian Country?

To be honest, I sometimes feel very gloomy and Eeyore-esque about it all.

Already, I live and work away from my community and it can be hard to stay/feel truly connected when I'm not there in my day-to-day life. I worry that a feeling of disconnection might worsen if I move even further away to pursue another degree.

But, yesterday I started to read Indigenizing the Academy by Devon Abbott Mihesuah and Angela Cavender Wilson and it was like a lightbulb went off in my head.

What if doing a PhD can bring me closer to home--literally and figuratively?

Doing research for my MA *did* bring me home. How could I have forgotten? I remember driving to Kitigan Zibi on frigid, sunny winter days, my grandfather greeting me as he took his old Indian showshoes off his feet, and us sitting by the fire with tea, cookies, and stories. (There was a tape recorder involved--sorry if that spoils the image.)

My family has so many stories to tell. Stories that aren't written in history books, but told to grandchildren who are willing to listen. Stories begging to be memorized or recorded and told to future generations. PhD dissertations require original research topics, right? Well, it doesn't get realer than this.

Maybe grad school can take me home.

Graduate Horizons

I've written about how I want to do a PhD and about my trip to Boston to meet my academic idol. This weekend that dream is coming closer into reach (or, should I say, appearing on the horizon?) because I will be attending...

Graduate Horizons is a 4 day workshop for Native students who want to apply to graduate/law/med/etc. school. I applied in the winter and heard in the spring that I'd been accepted as part of this year's cohort! Graduate Horizons takes place every other year at various host institutions--this year it happens to be at Harvard University. I'll be staying in the Harvard Law School dormitories (my first dorm experience!) and be coached by faculty from some of the best universities in the U.S.

I feel excited, but nervous... but more excited than nervous! You know that feeling? It has been so long since I've felt this way--probably since I walked into my first M.A. seminar or delivered my first conference presentation. I'm nervous because I'm venturing into new territory, but excited because I know it will be an amazing experience.

Applying to graduate school can be a mystifying process. I work at a university, yet I can't even imagine what an admissions committee looks like, what they look for, what they talk about, and, basically, what they do! So how am I supposed to get them to select my application out of hundreds for one of only a handful of spots?

I do know that a lot of the time your chances of getting in come down to your statement of intent. I know some people who hate talking about themselves, and while I don't necessarily feel the same way, I struggle with questions like: What makes you special? How are you unique from other PhD applicants? Apart from being Native, how are you different?

Graduate Horizons... Help!

P.S. It's been ages since I've updated my work wardrobe and with Graduate Horizons having a business casual dress code, it was the perfect opportunity for a couple of new pieces:

Light wool navy blazer... on sale!

Lace top

P.P.S. I'm super excited to meet Adrienne of Native Appropriations!

Mìdjim

I've blogged about exercising and weight loss, about watching Food, Inc., and even coined my own health plan, Skinny Nish. But I've never felt as passionate about my health as I have over the past couple of weeks.

It started when I purchased the follow up to the only nutrition book I've read, Skinny Chicks Eat Real Food (the first book was called Skinny Chicks Don't Eat Salads... you can see why the title might appeal!). The first part of the book exposes the factory food industry and what it's doing to people's waistlines, energy levels, and even life expectancy.



I was obsessed. I couldn't put the book down and finished it in 3 days flat.

I heard about a lot of stuff the author, Christine Avanti, writes about when I watched Food Inc. Like most who have seen the film (it's on Netflix for anyone who hasn't watched it), I was disgusted. I swore off factory farmed beef, poultry, pork, soy and dairy... for about a week until I realized how hard to find and expensive it is.

Watching Food, Inc. helped me to realize that I wanted to stop eating factory food, but I still didn't have the tools to figure out how to do that. Enter: Skinny Chicks Eat Real Food. It provided a how-to (e.g. what foods to eat, what not to eat, and why) and meal plans. There were also profiles of real foodies whose blogs I've been reading for inspiration:

• 100 Days of Real Food
• Kath Eats
• Food Renegade
• Life as a Plate

Now I have enough to go on to be able to truly implement a lot of these changes into my food lifestyle.

I made/ate some awesome real food recipes last week, including asparagus quiche on sweet potato crust, chickpea salad on quinoa with lemon caper dressing, and elk burgers with organic mac'n'cheese (thanks to my boyfriend, R.J.). No word of a lie, after eating this way for a week I dropped 5lbs! (But, I'm still not convinced that my scale didn't go wonky.)

As I embark on this real food journey, you might be reading a little bit more about something we all know and love: MIDJIM!

My First Vlog (alternately, New Sun Conference on Aboriginal Arts or Reflections on Creativity)

(And, with just my luck, I look like that in the screen cap.)

KC Adams

“GANG MEMBER”
Cyborg Hybrid Niki (visual artist, performance artist & videographer), 2006, digital print
Taken from KC Adams's website


Creeasian

Here is Creeasian's DJ &B-boying:



And here's an example of Baker Lake Throatboxing:



Skawennati

A link to her website, TimeTraveller:

My Moccasins, Me & NYC

My boyfriend and I have taken a liking to exploring cities on Turtle Island. We are saving for a bigger trip - we're thinking a Euro-holiday - but we needed something to get us through the winter months. Last week, we toyed with the idea of going to New York on Monday, booked on Thursday, and were on a train through the Adirondacks on Friday.

We settled into our hotel (the Hilton in the Financial District), which had a view of the re-building of the World Trade Centre.


We knew we only had 2 days, and I don't think we could have squeezed more into our first day if we tried: breakfast in Time Square; a three hour jaunt through the Met (which, as it turns out, wasn't enough); dessert for lunch on 5th Avenue; Columbia University; shopping in SoHo; and pizza for dinner at Lombardi's, one of five spots vying for the best pizza in NYC.


We got to the hotel by 9, plopped down on the luxe bed, and couldn't get up.

The next day we, once again, were on the train to Time Square. We saw a hockey game in the legendary Madison Square Garden. Then, we figured we would fit in one more museum. Can you guess which one? The National Museum of the American Indian.


Although their main exhibit, Infinity of Nations, was cool (above), I preferred the modern art works of Carl Beam. So much so that I excitedly skipped over to the next room when I saw a sneak peek, inadvertently skipping the Woodlands--which, apparently, means me--section. And, as long as I'm being honest, I held a bit of a grudge after not finding "Algonquin" amongst the names of tribes surrounding the Infinity of Nations sign. An afternoon at Century 21, resulting in a DVF sweater and Tory Burch blouse, capped off a great day.

(I'll now skip over the part where we ended up at TGI Friday's for dinner, eating crappy expensive food, and getting depressed while adding up all the money we'd spent. Ooops, there it is.)

While NYC was a lot of fun (I can't wait to go to MoMA and back to Century 21), of all the cities we've visited, our hearts are still in Boston...

One-Minute Book Review: The Hunger Games

The Hunger Games Trilogy (Suzanne Collins)

Confession time: I love me a good magical world. When I was younger, I devoured Harry Potter, eagerly awaiting each new release, and Lord of the Rings. Over the past year, I've fallen in love with authors who tell a seemingly real life story and inject it with a hint of mysticism: Junot Diaz's The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, Salman Rushdie's Midnight's Children, and Gabriel Garcia Marquez's Love in the Time of Cholera.

The Hunger Games trilogy, while not quite magic, was definitely out of this world. The back cover reviews from Stephen King and Stephanie Meyer piqued my interest. Although I've never read the Twilight Saga, the movies are, admittedly, a guilty pleasure of mine.

Imagine my surprise when I crack the cover of The Hunger Games to find that it is more a story about our people than Twilight ever was, even with its depiction of the Quileute nation (or, more accurately, in spite of...). Skin colour is scarcely mentioned in the novels, except in reference to the crazy Capitol-ites who dye their skin green and blue. Instead, the Hunger Games is a story of oppression, bravery, love, war, innocence, healing, and hunting.

I fervently flipped through the pages, gasping every now and again as R.J. demanded, "What did Katniss do now?" I suggest you pick up the books and learn for yourself!

Now, as with so many great books, I can only hope the filmmakers get it right...

Fame at 5 Years Old

One of my most vivid memories of being 5 years old involves Ovide Mercredi.

The whole school was called to the gym. I was standing around on the bleachers doing things kids do, when word floated around that they were picking one of us to be on T.V.

I turned to see a boy, arm outstretched, pointing his finger silently at me. What? my look asked. "Pick her," he responded. "Her mom works at the band office!" Childhood logic. I playfully swatted his arm away, hoping to divert the unwanted attention, but like a slingshot it swung gently back around.

A series of events followed--probably involving my navy and green plaid dress with white tights--and the next thing I knew, I was seated next to Ovide at a table fighting boredom for what seemed like hours. An equally vivid memory was returning from the event in the gym to find my class on recess and having to drink my juice and eat my sandwich alone inside.

I now know I played some teeny tiny (literally) role in the parallel process to the RCAP proceedings.

Now, over 20 years later, my path crossed Ovide's again when he delivered a lecture at the university where I work. I debated whether or not to attend. My head was saying no; I was tired, missed my boyfriend, had been spending lots of time on campus. But my heart said yes. I had always felt a connection to Ovide for providing me with 15 minutes of 5 year old fame, and I liked what he had to say at the Crown-First Nations Gathering earlier this week.

So, I went. And am I ever glad I did.

Ovide is an eloquent and humble speaker. He didn't lecture with key points, nor in a linear fashion, nor by presenting any sort of expertise (all of the "qualities" we're used to in the academy). Instead, he told stories about his spirituality and how it manifested in his political career and rise to National Chief.

"You can't lead your people just because you're educated," he stated. "You need more. From your own people." This is something I'm always curious about. How can scholars affect real change? How do we "live in both worlds"? How can we stay grounded in our communities and traditions while balancing the rigor required by academia?

But the point he made that had the most profound effect on me was related to the difference between his generation and mine. "My generation was labeled the 'grievance generation.' Indians became known as problem people, not people with problems," Ovide said. "But your generation is different. Your generation knows the solution. Your generation will make the change."

Whether knowing it or not, Ovide challenged me to rise to the occasion for our people when I was 5 years old. And tonight, two decades later, he has challenged me again.