We Stand on Guard for Some ..

If you don’t have the heart to hear that Canada is not the bastion of inclusion and acceptance you may have thought it was (a group of people I imagine dwindles with each passing day), this month’s newsletter may not be for you. We need more people like you to join us as we continue standing up for those who need our help the most, so please do read on! 

It seems fitting to begin a reflection about public space and who's actually allowed to access it with a Jane Jacobs quote: “Cities have the capability of providing something for everybody, only because, and only when, they are created by everybody.” Although I would've added "and for everybody" and as much as the author and theorist didn’t focus on the “precarity, inequality, racialized dispossession, the financialization of housing, and climate catastrophe,” the essence of Jacobs’ quote is one of necessary inclusion—something antithetical to settler colonialism.

Born out of white-supremacy (inherently exclusionary) and violence (used to enforce that exclusion), settler colonialism operates on a sustained promise of dispossession—it has to or it forfeits power. One might say that in general, developed countries are developed because they’re built on centuries of taking. Whether it’s Indigenous land, natural resources, bodies and time for slave labour, or our inalienable rights; there is no Canada without taking. 

It’s this continued act of taking (and keeping) from certain groups that tells them loud and clear, “YOU’RE NOT WELCOME HERE.” To be sure, these people suffer the most, but this also harms society as a whole—we’ll come back to this. In the rolodex of Canada’s great shames, top of mind right now is Ontario’s grotesque treatment of the rapidly growing population of people dealing with houselessness (of which a disproportionate amount are Indigenous) and the callous NIMBYism with which they’re being addressed—Bill 6: the Safer Municipalities Act.

In a nutshell, the Safer (a word choice that induces maximum facepalming) Municipalities Act sets out to criminalize people experiencing houselessness through any combination of eviction, arrest, jail time, or a $10,000 fine. This “solution” to the perceived threat encampment residents pose is rooted in taking people’s rights away and is most certainly not a solution. In an open letter to Ontario Premier, Doug “get off your ass and start working like everyone else” Ford, the Encampment Justice Coalition writes: “Not only is this approach alarming, discriminatory, and a violation of some of the most vulnerable people’s Charter rights, it does not work.” 

In another instance of taking from vulnerable populations, the city of St. Catharines just passed a by-law that outlines where encampments CAN’T be—AKA, telling people which public spaces are NOT for THEM by taking away their right to access them. Even at its most sympathetic, promising not to displace people until it’s determined there’s “somewhere else for those living in an encampment to go – such as transitional housing or a shelter,” the city is taking peoples’ voices away, as many encampment residents have vocalized very real issues and fears surrounding these kinds of band-aid solutions for the housing crisis. 

And seeing as it’s NHL playoff season, I would be remiss for not mentioning what the company that owns the Edmonton Oilers did during their playoff run last year. Executives from OEG Inc. pressured the city and police to clear encampments, a ‘Native Healing Ground,’ and a public water station because they were “deeply concerned that the people attending [the playoffs] will not feel safe and the images being broadcast out to the sports world will not leave Edmonton and Alberta in a positive light.” There’s so much taking here I don’t even know where to begin, so I’ll just reiterate what the exposé calls it: “[A] replication of settler colonial logics and dispossession.”

All these instances of taking is textbook sweeping-your-problems-under-the-rug-ism in order to maintain power and privilege. There are no attempts to solve the issues in earnest—an affront when we have always known that the solution to the housing crisis is healthy, accessible, appropriate, secure, and affordable housing. Perhaps what’s even more vexing though, is that everything mentioned above has been carried out under the guise of “public safety.” 

Whether it’s eviction, criminalization, dispossession, etc., as soon as violence is added to the equation, safety is subtracted from it. In “Rehearsals for Living,” co-authored with Leanne Betasamosake Simpson, Robyn Maynard describes true safety as efforts rooted in care and support that “allow our communities to flourish.” And so do we think any of the many marginalized groups and communities facing state-sanctioned, violent removal from the only land they have access to, and which is their best bet for survival, have been allowed to flourish? 

If you’ve made it this far without screaming “HOW IS IT THAT A SETTLER COLONIAL GOVERNMENT DETERMINES WHICH SPACES ARE PUBLIC AND WHO GETS TO ACCESS THEM ON LAND THAT IS STOLEN” at the screen, I commend your restraint. But I also (re)commend some screaming too—for this is righteous anger.

It’s all symptomatic of a government that has always deemed certain people disposable, taken their rights, and continues to add more groups to that list (and with Pride Month approaching, I’m thinking specifically about the war on trans rights and certain laws and policies the US and Britain have enacted that exclude trans people from public life). And when you admit to a politics of disposability the way Canada has, you admit that you hold certain groups of human beings to not be human at all and that they don’t deserve to live the kind of lives your preferred group gets to live. 

And so we arrive at the central question of this month's newsletter: who is human in the eyes of the state? Well, it might be easier to answer that by asking the inverse—who is not? And that is: anyone who falls (or steps) out of line with the settler colonial/capitalist agenda (which is hellbent on defending its own murderous existence at all costs—none of which it ever has to suffer, of course) and anyone who stands up for them. Put another way, the state has imposed a kind of conditional existence upon its most vulnerable populations to render them subhuman in an attempt to maintain its power—because at the end of the day, it’s all about power. To quote Maynard again, “Too much justice—the liberation of Black and Indigenous peoples—would make Canada, as it stands today, impossible.” 

Now back to how Canada’s oppressive taking impacts society as a whole. There’s a deeper, more insidious implication for a world that continues to violently sweep its “problems” under the rug without bothering to address their root causes. In the words of author, organizer, and educator Kelly Hayes (who we mentioned in our previous newsletter):

When you stop caring about any group of people and their suffering, you lose part of your humanity, and you also become more vulnerable to the violence they’re experiencing…the more you accept this, you’re just not a person who values or defends life anymore. Life is not precious to you. You have dehumanized others and yourself, and now everyone is disposable, and you are part of that culture.  

If life isn’t precious to you, I am truly sorry to hear that. If it is, we need to fight for it—for all people. We need to trade in the politics of disposability for one of inclusion. And not just, like, the viiibe of inclusion, but actual inclusion—be it geographical, material, economic, spiritual, emotional, etc. We must replace taking with giving—whether it’s land, resources, time, or whatever else we can give or do to ease the suffering of our sisters and brothers. Leanne Betasamosake Simpson writes: “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.”

And with that, let’s meet some organizations and people we support who embody the politics of inclusion.

High Heels to Moccasins is a community support group for people struggling with mental health and addictions in St. Catharines, Ontario. Started by Ashley Cronkwright, who is Six Nations Tuscarora, the group tries to meet once a week to provide people with access to hot meals, Healing Fires, traditional medicines, and hygiene products. 

As a recovering addict and survivor of human trafficking, Ashley wanted to help people going through the same kinds of difficulties she went through. In her words, “I felt that seeing a familiar face out there would give people hope that they too can get better.” Reflecting on a special moment that emerged out of High Heels to Moccasins (a name that came from her son and that represents the transition from a sex worker and addict back to traditional ways of living), Ashley told us about a community member who invited her to her addiction treatment centre graduation: “She said in her speech that she would have never made it there if it wasn’t for our support. This was special to me because it showed me that we are making a difference.”

In a time of increasingly exclusionary policy that harms our most vulnerable populations, support groups like High Heels to Moccasins (which also helps people experiencing houselessness) are more important than ever. And for Ashley, “being able to hold safe space for others plays a huge role in my and my children’s healing journeys.” Thanks to your support, Nii’kinaaganaa has been able to help Ashley continue doing this kind of life-affirming and inclusionary work. She acknowledges, “this program wouldn’t be possible without the funds we receive to help feed, clothe, shelter, and provide support for those who need it.”

Next we’d like to introduce you to a community member we were recently able to support. Originally from Oklahoma, Okie is a two-spirit, Choctaw Nation elder who has called St. Catharines home since 1998. Due to increasing vision issues, Okie made the difficult decision to give up her driver's license. And as a result of a serious ankle injury, fibromyalgia, and arthritis, her mobility has been severely limited for the last several years. As an outgoing and independent person, she suddenly found herself isolated and affected on a deeply spiritual and emotional level: "Pain will change a person and depression makes you feel unworthy and finished" she told me.

A few months ago, Nii'kinaaganaa was able to buy a mobility scooter for Okie to help her get back to living life the way she wants to. She'll once again be able to go to the store on her own and meet with friends and attend Indigenous ceremonies. When I asked her on the phone how she felt when she received the scooter, there was a pause. When she spoke again, she was fighting back tears:

It was hard for me to talk in that moment—I just kept saying 'really? really??'. I cried because it means so much that we're taking care of our people and helping them grow and be more independent. I've had a smile on my face and warmth in my heart ever since because it's a reminder that there are really good people out there.

And to our readers and donors who helped make this possible, she said "yakoke," which is Choctaw for "thank you."

And now a familiar name. You may remember Debbie Ironbow (featured in our January Newsletter), an organizer in Saskatchewan working primarily with young mothers to provide food and basic needs like diapers and formula. Debbie’s Blue Feather outreach team also helps a lot of community members navigating houselessness and so we thought we’d share some photos from the last couple of meals and distribution events they organized (that wouldn’t have happened without your help!).

If this month’s newsletter made you feel like a burning hot ball of anger, you’re not alone. The question now, is what will you do the next time you see or hear about the government telling certain people that it’s a crime for them to simply be alive? Will you stand up for your neighbours? Will you speak up for our most vulnerable and increasingly voiceless groups to stomp out the spread of this kind of conditional humanity? Will you take a good, hard look at the last 500 years of colonial taking and say “enough is enough—it’s time to give”?

Thanks for reading and supporting,
The Nii’kinaaganaa Team

“When you give, it comes back to you and then you have enough to give again.”
-Okie