An Activist Nap

A tiny glimpse into my personal life: I am a napper. Last night, after work, I napped from 5-7 p.m. (Could have something to do with the fact that I'm an on-and-off anemic, but that's besides the point.) After a nap like this, I wake up feeling one of two ways: 1) refreshed and ready to be productive for the final few evening hours, or 2) "WHAT?!? It's 7! How am I going to cook, clean, watch my favourite show, work out, and get to bed at a decent hour? Why do I do this to myself!!!" (Luckily, last night was the former.)

Since late March/early April, I've been napping.

I stopped listing to CBC Radio in the mornings and tuned into Hot 89.9.

I finished reading "X-Marks" by Scott Richard Lyons, then picked up "Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me?" by Mindy Kaling.

I took a time-out from twitter in favour of constantly trolling my never-ending Facebook Newsfeed.

I fell behind reading some of my favourite blogs, like Native Appropriations and mediaINDIGENA, but read back posts on blogs like Suri's Burn Book and Young House Love.

Notice a trend here? I took, what I'll call, an "Activist Nap."

I'm not going to apologize for any of it. I'll still listen to Hot 89.9 when I'm in my car, and Young House Love is on my daily reading list. But this girl's nap is over.

I had an absolutely wild fall season. It was the busiest and most amazing time of my life, as I took on my biggest challenge yet of teaching a college class of 30 awesome Native students.

And after my class wrapped up on Tuesday afternoons? I hit the road to recruit more students to come to post-secondary education!

I expected the winter to be more quiet and a time to regroup, but instead I published my MA research paper, did a juice cleanse, and travelled more for work.

During one of said travels, I was having a conversation with a couple of Native colleagues. We were talking about the work we do in our 9-5's and our activism and community engagements on evenings and weekends.

"It's exhausting being Indigenous sometimes," one bemused.

We got onto the topic of books. After flexing our academic muscles and talking about what books we were reading by Native authors, the conversation quickly turned to "fun" books as we got talking about everything from sci-fi to Jodi Picoult.

"Sometimes you just have to take a time out and read a fun book."

I took her advice. I didn't completely tune out the news, but I allowed myself the luxury of reading for fun, skipping out on a rally or two, and I let myself off the hook for not being the first to know of each major development in First Nations rights and crises.

I napped. But, rather than it being an hour-long after work nap, it was a 2-month long post-activist nap. I was a Naptivist, if you will. I woke up from this one, not kicking myself for falling so far behind, but feeling refreshed, clear and ready to get back on track.

Endayang

Change is in the air.

My tiny corner of the Internet (or locker, maybe?) has been quiet lately. Between my full-time university job, teaching a college course, and trying to maintain some semblance of a personal life, I haven't had time to think about much other than the immediate tasks at hand.

I think maybe this is the framework that has allowed this new idea to grow.

What's the idea? It's radical. Dare I say, crazy. Really, really... really out there.

I want to go home (ni-endayang).

There is sort of a perfect storm of events that have recently occurred that have made space in my mind and my life for this idea to form:

1. My Chief's Talk: A couple of weeks ago, my Chief, Gilbert Whiteduck, was speaking at a conference I was at. One of the things he talked about is how people have always told him throughout his career: "Baby steps. Stepping stones are important. We'll get there." While no one would deny that all of these small changes connect to one another to formulate something great, Gilbert says: "What we need now are leaps and bounds. Our people are in too dire of a state for baby steps." And I couldn't agree more. I love the work I do and I believe in it. But it's not a leap or a bound. On a more cerebral level (and I'm not sure how well this will translate to a blog), he described an experience returning our ancestors to the land and what it means to just be in the community; and, all throughout his talk, the words that kept running through my mind were: "I have to go home. I have to go home. I have to go home."
2. Red Man Laughing: I just finished listening to the Red Man Laughing podcast featured chat with Mskwaankwad Rice, who talks about his decision to leave behind his life in Ottawa and move back home to his community, sit with his grandmother, and learn his language. The simple facts of his story got me excited; if he could make this decision and move from Ottawa (the same city I'm in now!), maybe I could, too? Just maybe? They had a really thought-provoking discussion about our generation and how we're basically writing our own rules. We're in a unique position as Anishinabe youth/young people living in the world today and, in some sense, no one has written the guidebook on or beaten the path that determines how to live as Anishinabeg youth in the wake of the acts of genocide committed directly against our grandparents' generation and the impacts its had on our parents' generation.
3. My Career Path:  While I cannot overstate how much I care about the work I'm doing right now in the university, I know that this work is not my final stop on my career path. My career goal is to become a professor and contribute to the growth of the field of Indigenous Studies. But, over the past week something has become crystal clear to me: My education is imbalanced. I've learned a lot about the history of colonization in this country, critical perspectives of Canada, and the impacts its had on our people. That's important, but after teaching these perspectives to my college class this fall, I've realized that it's only one side of the story. What I'm missing in my "repertoire" (a career-focused way to say self-actualization) is the knowledge and education that exists only in my family, my community and amongst the Anishinabeg: our family stories, our language, our ceremonies, our community history, our ways of knowing the world. I can't be the kind of professor I want to be or make the changes I want to make without this education from my own family and people.

Something has happened within me and it's happened quickly. That's not to say I'm going to be quitting my job and making a Musky-esk change tomorrow. But I'm closer than ever to believing I could do it.

I've always had this goal to learn my language before I have children so I can pass it on. What have I been doing about it? Not much. I've been "talking the talk." I need to, in the words of Ryan McMahon, "walk the talk." I've always thought I wanted to give my future children the opportunity to grow up on a reserve because, although it comes with all of its complexities, it brings with it a love that no Anishinabe child should be denied of. No matter these goals, I was always immediately struck down with stress afterward, wondering, How? How do I make this happen? After having lived in the city for so long, gotten my degrees, secured a good job, and started a life with an amazing partner, the possibility of going home seemed to move further and further away until it was nearly insurmountable.

I can't explain the change in me, but on Saturday morning it was suddenly like all of these barriers had been lifted for a moment. And, luckily, I am still in that moment. So maybe it's not "a moment" after all? I suddenly realized (and this is a deliberate pun, since I'm watching the US presidential election as I type) that yes. I. can. I can leave my amazing job if I want to. I can give up my apartment if I want to. I can go home if I want to.

And guess what? I want to.

Skinny Nish

We're starting to see the first signs of spring in the Odawa area. The snow has melted, the grass is greening, and I can hear bullfrogs mating outside of my window (lovely, I know). When R.J. and I wake up every morning we greet the family of shishib (ducks) living in the pond in the backyard of our condo complex.

Medicine wheel teachings tell us that spring--represented by the east, the colour yellow and many other manifestations--is a time of birth or rebirth. As a self-professed "starter" (I have a bag full of beads and vehemently refuse to concede that I may not be crafty) it's one of my favourite times of year. I love the hope that fills me when I set goals, look for opportunities and imagine the future.

Inevitably, one of the areas I want to rejuvenate this spring is my physical health.

I started working out at the gym when I was about 17. My peak of physical fitness (thus far!) happened when I was about 21 and I ran 10k for the Terry Fox run - my first and only run, race, whatever you want to call it. About two years later it all started to go downhill when I began grad school and effectively had no time to do anything but read and write.

And to cut a long story short, I haven't been able to climb back on the horse since then. There was a gym in our last apartment building, and I had mild success there. We bought a treadmill last summer, and I tried the barefoot running fad recommended by a colleague who's a runner, but only ended up betraying my ankles with lack of support.

Worst of all, over the past 6 months I've been stuffing my mouth with wild abandon, not caring where it ends up in the end. I'm talking all-you-can-eat wings at Kelsey's and three plates of pad Thai in a week. Enough said.

So now, I am releasing into the universe...

3 Steps to a Healthy Mal

1. Skinny Chicks
I am presently on day 6 of the Skinny Chicks Kick Start meal plan. What's this, you might ask? Well, it is the one and only meal plan/diet/eating lifestyle I have ever been on and I love it.


I honestly think this book found me. I was just browsing through Chapters, not looking to make any huge changes to my eating habits at that time, when I came across it. I gave it a quick scan, and everything just seemed to make sense. The basic premise is to keep your blood sugar levels steady. It's not restrictive--all meals contain healthy portions of protein, carbs and fat--and it's designed for real women living in the real world. Today is day 6 and I feel AWESOME.

2. Running
Of course, I have to return to my one tried and true cardio workout. I have all the equipment I need--sneakers, the fact that I live on a road and a treadmill--so there really is no excuse. Although it might be a little steep, my goal is to participate in the Terry Fox run again this September. That leaves me...4 months. Better get a move on!

3. Yoga


Yoga is the one practice that has stuck in the face of bad eating habits and cardio falling to the wayside. And I think there's something to that. Could it be the fact that I truly enjoy it? What a novel idea! I first encountered yoga in Goodlife's "BodyFlow" class, which mixed yoga, tai chi and pilates. I now practice weekly for free at the Odawa Native Friendship Centre and I plan to keep going - maybe even increase my visits!

So, that's my commitment to my health. Now to think of a rewards system...

Change is in the air

In our culture, spring is a time of renewal. As spring nears its end for 2010, this couldn't be closer to the truth for me right now.

1. "Call me Mal Wabashishib, MA"

I am proud to announce that I have officially mastered the arts. Haha! That's actually quite laughable considering I couldn't draw or paint to save my life. However, I would venture to state something like, "I know a thing or two about Indigenous peoples, particularly as it relates to my family's and community's oral history and the larger Native critical literary theory regarding why we write our stories." That's more like it.

It seems that I blinked and three years (that's right, three) had passed. Well, if you had asked me about time at the end of two years, I might have responded, "What? It's not 2020?" But, now it seems to have passed a little too quickly. The past three years of my life were filled with wonderful new (and old) friends, intensely intriguing conversations, triumphs I had never before experienced, and challenges I didn't know if I would overcome. But, today I proudly declare that I am edu-ma-cated.

2. "Bye bye sirens, hello crickets - or is that a bat?"

I moved last weekend! I said goodbye to R.J.'s and my apartment in the heart of Little Italy and hello to a quiet condo across the bridge. It felt so good to breathe the fresh, cool air courtesy of, gasp!, great trees! Living down the street from a fire station for a year made it difficult to sleep the first night without the "street sounds," but this is definitely something I can get used to.

3. "Did I hear you right? You're paying me now??"

... and I got a new job. I have spent the past two years working full-time as a researcher for a Native organization. I loved the work that I did and feel that I truly made a difference in the lives of some real people (imagine that!) and helped to make a change (however small) in the discourse on a specific issue. Perhaps I'll touch more upon that someday, but not today.

I will soon be employed at a university, working in a field I would classify as education (duh), communications, and community relations. I can't wait!!! More to come on this, you can be sure.

---

So basically, most areas of my life have been renewed - and it feels good. One comfortable constant is, of course, my love, R.J. Unfortunately for me, but fortunately for him, there is potential for some change there, but I won't count my duck eggs before they hatch.

And, hopefully, my blogging habits will change to be more frequent. (Yes, I am putting the onus on them to change themselves.)