The Privilege is Mine: Settler Reflections

Dearest readers: after sharing over 13,500 words with you, it’s time you get to know who’s been writing them. My name is Steve Sloane and here are four facts about me:

1. I almost drowned as a kid but still love to swim (used to skip school to sneak into the local Howard Johnson hotel pool—sorry mom and dad)
2. I am banned from all Walmarts in North America because I chugged a Fanta from the pop aisle without paying for it (sorry mom and dad).
3. I am a proud Flat Earther. Just kidding—like most people with any sense, I know the Earth is cubed.
4. Everything I have, have accomplished, and have enjoyed is in some way a result of the Indigenous dispossession enacted by white settlers and the white settler privilege that exists because of it.

Having been born to settler parents on stolen land, there isn’t a single detail of my life story that can’t be attributed to colonialism. Here’s just one example of how my privilege has led me to this specific moment:

> born into middle class neighbourhood where my white parents owned their home and made a living on land that was the traditional territory of the Haudenosaunee, Anishinaabe, and the Attiwonderonk before it was stolen
> have time, space, and resources to do well in school
> parents pay for half of my university education (receive BA in Cubed-Earth Theory)
> receive slap on the wrist for Fanta heist, when an Indigenous person or person of colour would likely have received a harsher outcome that might have appeared on a criminal record—or an autopsy
> go to college for a year (parents also pay for half of that) instead of pursuing jobs related to my degree (sorry mom and dad)
> eventually get jobs that pay well enough for me to take time off to pursue creative projects (for which I am sometimes paid) and write this newsletter (for which I am not paid) 

I was not always aware of my privilege (arguably the epitome of privilege and a ringing endorsement for the white supremacist propaganda that so-called Canada is built on) and there are no doubt many layers of it I’m still not aware of, but even if you took away everything I mentioned above, I would still benefit from it—all I have to do is exist. The simple truth is white settlers are where we are because we’ve made it so that Indigenous people are not. And that’s only a hard pill to swallow if 1) you believe you are superior to Indigenous people, 2) you want to maintain the illusion that you are self-made, 3) you want to continue benefitting from colonialism, or 4) you don’t truly understand what settler colonialism is.

Up until not that long ago, I fell into category 4. 

Due to the combined factors of not knowing much about my own ancestry (likely a mix of Irish, Scottish, and English), an education system with next to no focus on Indigenous people (not an accident), and a generally insulated and predominantly white suburban upbringing, for a long time I didn’t know anything about why my life was so easy, nor did I understand what settler colonialism was (to say nothing of how I’ve contributed to its maintenance and reproduction—which doesn't require anything other than my continuing to live in so-called Canada).

It took a chain of explosive, intersectional events to shake me from my ignorant slumber. It started with the police murder of George Floyd and was followed by Canada’s ableist (mis)handling of COVID, the 1492 Land Back Lane mobilization, Toronto mayor Olivia Chow’s houseless encampment eviction spree, the discovery of 215 children's remains at the site of a former residential school in Kamloops, and Israel’s ongoing genocide of Palestinians and the worldwide repression, police brutality, and criminalization of dissent that followed.

At the heart of each of these events is a radicalizing inequity. And while these are all colonial events, we must remember that colonialism is in fact a structure (à la Patrick Wolfe) and as long as that structure remains, it will continue to cast its deadly white shadow over all the land. In Living in Indigenous Sovereignty, her book with Gladys Rowe, Elizabeth Carlson-Manathara writes:

When colonizers came, they brought with them and built their own structures such as legal, medical, economic, political, and educational systems, which they imposed here. Further, they set into motion ways of relating to Indigenous Peoples and Lands that are exploitative and that persist into the present.

At the heart of the book are the experiences of 13 white settler Canadians “who wish to live honourably in relationship with Indigenous Peoples, laws and lands” by reorienting their lives towards “an awareness that these are Indigenous lands, containing relationships, laws, protocols, stories, obligations and opportunities that have been understood and practised by Indigenous peoples since time immemorial” (Fernwood Publishing).

The book makes it clear that awareness is but one stone on the path to decolonization, which Waziyatawin and Michael Yellow Bird describe as “the meaningful and active resistance to the forces of colonialism that perpetuate the subjugation and/or exploitation of our [Indigenous people’s] minds, bodies, and lands." The more I learn about the horrors of settler colonialism, the more compelled I am to combat them as a settler benefitting from them. To move through the world and truly perceive the forces that move it is to be aware of both the injustices that inform every aspect of our daily lives and what role we have played in them. To move towards decolonization is to do something about it.

We are not responsible for the rigged system our ancestors created, but we are responsible for what we do with the unearned privilege and power it affords us at the continued expense of a group of people who have been stripped of everything they cherish and everything that makes them them. We settlers have an important role to play in redefining the relationship between Indigenous people and settler Canadians. If we choose not to accept this role, we simply continue to accept the blood-stained benefits of white settler privilege—a decision that will continue to destroy our shared humanity (which should be reason enough to dismantle a deeply unjust and murderous system). 

In Mutual Aid: Building Solidarity During This Crisis (and the Next), Dean Spade writes: “We are steeped in a capitalist, patriarchal, white supremacist culture that encourages us to compete, distrust, hoard, hide, disconnect, and confine our value to how others see us and what we produce.” But it doesn’t have to be like this. Colonialism is an import. Racial capitalism is not a natural system. Individualism is not human nature. Another world is possible (and already existed before we tracked our mud through it) and to not use our power and privilege to make that world a reality once more is to turn our backs on our hearts, neighbours, and the planet.

One of the ways I use my privilege is by writing this newsletter in hopes of raising both money for and awareness of the struggles Indigenous people experience day in and day out—struggles that have been born out of colonialism. This is not a task I take lightly and it was one that, until recently, troubled me. 

Our actions must be rooted in their vision of decolonization and liberation.

More than once I’ve wondered if it’s appropriate for me to be writing these. What right does a white settler have to be speaking on behalf of Indigenous people? Who am I to be sharing their stories and advocating for their needs? I found my answer at an Indigenous-led, emergency response action (which ended in the brutalization of peaceful protestors by the kops) demanding the release of Mskwaasin Agnew, a Cree and Dene woman from Salt River First Nation who was kidnapped by the Israeli Occupation Forces while trying to break the siege on Gaza and deliver humanitarian aid.

After we took the street at one of the busiest intersections in Toronto on a chilly October day, one of the Indigenous speakers talked about how it should be settler allies who are the ones putting their bodies on the line to defend land defenders because settlers have been given everything. Then, an Indigenous man spoke to me about how asymmetrical of an equation it is when Indigenous and other marginalized peoples, who are already fighting against the system just to survive, are the ones most actively resisting it. The answer to my question was itself a question: why should it fall on Indigenous people to do this work? Resisting a system that’s designed to assimilate or eliminate you is a full time job—why should they also have to bring awareness to it and dismantle it? If we want to be good relatives and allies, we must actively stand/write/what-have-you against the system we profess to oppose and put our bodies/being on the line to prove it.

Education should never fall entirely on the shoulders of marginalized peoples, it is our responsibility as settlers to educate ourselves, but we cannot do it by ourselves. I feel okay about authoring this newsletter, aimed primarily at settlers like myself, because each one is vetted and edited by a Nii'kinaaganaa Foundation Board Member, and the topics and direction come from the Indigenous led board. It’s finding that balance as settlers between educating ourselves, and remembering the importance of “nothing about us without us,” a phrase that originates from 16th century Polish politics, was popularized by disability rights activists in South Africa in the 90's, and was used in a 1971 labour documentary from Poland. It means that whatever we do as allies or advocates should be done with input and direction from that group. That’s why I centre and amplify Indigenous voices and speak directly with the Indigenous organizers we redistribute funds to so that everything we update you on is through their eyes and informed by their lived experiences. It’s our responsibility as settlers to oppose and dismantle settler colonialism, but we must take direction from the original Peoples of the land so that our actions are rooted in their vision of decolonization and liberation.

Now since we’ve been sifting through some settler reflections on responsibility, we’re going to introduce our new volunteer, Katie Koopman, and tell you about the Settler Discussion Series she’ll be facilitating for our subscribers beginning January 6th, another example of settlers educating ourselves while remembering "nothing about us without us."

Katie is a settler with a mix of Irish, Scottish, French-Canadian, and Hungarian heritage who lives in Eastern Ontario. She just completed the Community Engagement, Leadership, and Development certificate course through Toronto Metropolitan University and is about to complete her BA in Global Development. Most recently, Katie worked at True North Aid, a registered charity that supports northern and remote Indigenous communities with humanitarian aid, where she helped develop and facilitate the Settler Discussion Series: a virtual learning opportunity that presents the truth about our collective history and the tension between non-Indigenous and Indigenous people in Canada.

Split up into four 1-hour sessions, the series focuses on privilege, land, Residential Schools, and allyship and is accompanied by a weekly newsletter with supplemental resources to encourage and expand participant learning. When I asked her about its origin, Katie said that the Settler Discussion Series curriculum was developed in response to the momentum of Canadians deeply grieving the discovery of the 215 unmarked graves of Residential School children at Kamloops Indian Residential School and the subsequent findings across the country. 

In keeping with the concept of “nothing about us without us,” this series has been vetted by Indigenous advisors, an Indigenous guest speaker will be present at one or more sessions, and First Nations, Metis, and Inuit voices are woven in throughout. When asked why including these voices is important, Katie said “While it is the responsibility of settlers to educate peers and facilitate necessary and difficult dialogue concerning non-Indigenous and Indigenous relationships, this dialogue must be balanced with Indigenous voices and experiences.”

Who is the Settler Discussion Series for?
In Katie’s words:

Anyone looking to further their commitment to truth and reconciliation. This is an important conversation that contributes to reimagining what a relationship between non-Indigenous and Indigenous people can look like in Canada, while learning together how we might propel the Truth and Reconciliation Commission’s Calls to Action forward.

Quotes Katie has collected from past participants:

This series was a gold mine of growth, freedom, and beauty. It’s hard work. I wish this were a mandatory course for all companies, schools, and run at every library and community centre.

My takeaways are realizing I don’t know enough and to question what I was told. I learned a great deal, and the resources are great—I have been consuming them. Building relationships will take time, empathy, and a willingness to see the facts.

Our discussion in Week 4 regarding cultural appropriation was so helpful. Our guest speaker was so compassionate and generous in her approach to the discussion, and I was grateful to hear her perspective on seeking understanding, connection, and relationships.

While doing this kind of work will no doubt be emotionally challenging, it is vital if we have any hope of living in a world where our humanity cannot be compromised or overridden by systemic racism, divisive and hateful propaganda, and manufactured scarcity. I’ll wrap things up with one more quote from Living in Indigenous Sovereignty—this one is from Gladys Rowe:

Undertaking a journey of decolonization can lead settlers to question and re-examine the foundations of their lives and identities. Many struggle with self-judgment, guilt, and negative views of their communities and identities. [Aaron] Mills offers a point of balance to this dynamic: “The most radical thing anyone can do with respect to decolonization is to allow that he or she is a sacred person, has gifts others need and is worthy of receiving others’ gifts, and is part of creation.”

Thanks for reading and supporting,
The Nii’kinaaganaa Team

"It is never enough to just critique the system and name our oppression. We also have to create the alternative, on the ground and in real time."
-Leanne Betasamosake Simpson, Rehearsals for Living