What I learned at Sheridan's National Indigenous History Month Panel

Earlier this month I attended the virtual Indigenous History Month Celebration hosted by Sheridan Alumni and Sheridan College. Prior to attending I was really looking forward to this event, not only as an Afro-Indigenous woman but also because I love listening to conversations about people’s lives, experiences and journeys. After attending, I realized that it was even more fulfilling than I had anticipated. What first struck me was the conversation about the impact experiencing both safe and non-positive spaces can have on Indigenous students. It wasn’t until this conversation that I realized just how paradoxical attending college, or school in general, as an Indigenous person can be. It’s empowering (given the history of residential schools and the imprint that has been left on us from an inter-generational perspective), but it’s also a scary place too.

The panel consisted of three Sheridan Alumni and Indigenous women named Chelsea Ogemah (Police Foundations ‘21), Bonnie Nadjiwan (Social Service Worker ‘20) and Semiah Smith (Visual and Creative Arts). Here was a group of women with unique stories, passions, and life trajectories, but there was also a collective understanding: a sense of community, togetherness, and oneness. At one point, Chelsea described how “scary it was being the only Indigenous person in the class”, and many of us listened, completely identifying with that experience.

Now, you might be thinking, ‘scary’ seems a bit dramatic, but at times, that’s truly how it feels.

Eyes dart towards you, staring, waiting for you to answer all Indigenous questions.  
Eyes dart towards you, staring because they’ve “never seen an Indigenous person before.”
Eyes dart towards you, staring... 

Chelsea’s response? She decided one day in class not to let the stares take her off course and instead affirmed “I’m going to represent my people, I will show up. I don’t want them to say “oh, this native girl always skips class.” That statement made me realize just how often a lot of Indigenous, Black and racialized people find ourselves feeling like we have to be the best, top tier, at all times to make sure that as a race of people, we are not judged or stereotyped (even more than we already are in many spaces). I don’t know if that’s something that other groups of people feel…a responsibility to ‘represent an entire race’, but it resonated with me heavily. And again, a paradoxical feeling arose where it sounded comforting to hear Chelsea proclaim “I’m going to represent my people,” but I also couldn’t help but feel a weight on our shoulders, and wondered, is this our responsibility to bear?

Chelsea lived in a Northern Indigenous community before attending Sheridan and so it also made a lot of sense to me that she would feel pride in showing who she is and sharing the knowledge she has about her Ojibwe culture. During the event, we also discussed the cultural shock many Indigenous students who live on reserves face when moving away from home to study at Sheridan. The sense of pride they feel while pursuing post-secondary education is once again met with a justifiable dis-ease that comes from walking into the colonial school system.

The classroom, in and of itself is a micro version of the world, and there’s a lot of work that needs to be done to make sure that Indigenous teachings are available, students feel safe and protected, and everyone can learn. Fallon Melander, Project Specialist from the Centre for Indigenous Learning and Support mentioned a Well Series presentation, Babamadizwin: Start Well, which was created to offer support and services to Indigenous learners at Sheridan. The goal of the Centre is to be a home away from home for Indigenous students and to support them throughout their journey, both personally and academically, from first-year and beyond.

But what if you didn’t grow up on the reserve? What if you’re not culturally connected to your Indigenous roots as Bonnie had shared? Think for a moment about how uncomfortable those stares feel, regardless, but especially if you are disconnected from your culture. A massive aspect of celebrating National Indigenous History Month is understanding that we are not a monolithic group of people and many of us are on the life-long journey of re-discovering self and community. We have different experiences, beliefs, customs, and traditions and many of us continue to learn about our cultures to this day. The assumptions and the expectations about what it means to be an Indigenous person often create a sense of guilt in those who may not be connected to their roots. That guilt can sometimes prevent many students from seeking comfort, support or resources that are available out of fear. It was comforting to hear Fallon say that the Centres resources and support are available for all Indigenous students and students, “no matter what part in your journey you are in.”

When racism and a “lack of cultural competence” as Bonnie put it, are addressed inside the classroom, the lived experiences that many students face inside (and outside) of class are validated. But once again, I wondered, whose responsibility is it to create positive spaces and address ignorance at Sheridan? I know it’s a collective responsibility, of course, but there’s also an ingrained power structure that lives inside the walls of institutions that places a lot of the onus on professors, faculty, and institutional leaders. They can contribute to creating positive learning environments through their words, their actions and reactions too.  

At one point in the event, Bonnie shared an experience she had in class when another student made a racist comment. Bonnie described how the professors responded by saying “let’s redirect, we’re getting a little lost,” and how that wasn’t the response that she had hoped for. This, in Bonnie’s mind, was a perfect opportunity to educate (or at the very least directly address) how that comment was not okay, why it was wrong, and to embody a zero-tolerance policy.

“I really wish that professor would have my back. I was the only one that was there. My voice can only be so loud”.

This month is about celebrating Indigenous cultures: our food, our dances, our art, our spiritual connection, and our land; but another way to celebrate Indigenous people is to be an ally in situations like these. Chelsea, who studied Police Foundations at Sheridan expressed how troubling it was to be in a program and not feel like the zero-tolerance policy is strict enough. The lack of representation in the classroom or misrepresentation of Indigenous people in the textbooks inspired her to advocate for the Centre of Indigenous Learning and Support space at Davis. Students needed an on-campus space that supports a collective need for safety, wellness and healing.

During the event, so many valuable ideas were shared on how integrating Indigenous teachings (like the Medicine Wheel) into the curriculum or starting each class with a land acknowledgement could go a long way in bringing awareness and inclusivity to Sheridan.

“It’s not about only advocating for our rights as Indigenous students but advocating for everyone. Institutions have so much power,” Chelsea shared.

Another topic that stood out to me was the power of using your voice as a student. The more I thought about it, the more I could see a clear connection between each of these women: they used their voices in different ways, and in doing so, created an impact on their community. Semiah is a singer-songwriter who started with traditional Indigenous music and is currently working on a project that is more RNB and Pop-inspired. She wants to show how Indigenous art is multi-dimensional. Bonnie is a Social Worker graduate who struggled with mental health throughout her studies and found the courage to connect with the Centre of Indigenous Learning and Support during her Sheridan Life. And Chelsea used her voice to express the urgent need for an Indigenous space at the Davis campus, which is now the CILS office.  

When I think about National Indigenous History Month, I often think about the resilience we have as a people, to still be here, pursuing post-secondary education and graduating, having big ambitions and bringing them to life. This event truly reminded me of the power that language and access to new environments can have on our collective growth. It was also a nice reminder that using your voice can look different: you can celebrate in song like Semiah, or whisper for guidance from your ancestors and community elders like Bonnie. Or maybe, you’re feeling loud, proud and ready to make a change like Chelsea. You can decide how you want to use your voice to advocate for yourself and others, but one thing is for certain: all of our voices are necessary.  

Semiah also said something that really stood out to me: “my work is to envision a new future, think differently – to challenge and unlearn what we know about health sciences.” At the time, she was speaking about her personal journey going from studying Animation at Sheridan to pursuing a health program at McMaster. This only proved once again how imaginative thinking and creativity are critical to our collective progress. Bonnie had to imagine a world where she was supported, where she graduated from college despite having a difficult academic life. Chelsea had to imagine a space that Indigenous students could go, to smudge, meet other students and elders, or just feel connected to community.  

I think one of the coolest things I learned during this event was that Chelsea was instrumental in advocating for the Centre of Indigenous Learning and Support at Davis. For a long time, the Trafalgar campus was the only dedicated space for Indigenous students. While studying in her program, Chelsea sent countless emails and made a lot of phone calls to advocate for this space at her campus (often with little response back). Although the CILS space at Davis was created after Chelsea graduated, it’s still so inspiring to know that because of “the girl that didn’t take no for an answer,” current and future Sheridan students can now find solace and comfort here.

I also realized sometimes, just knowing that those inclusive spaces exist is enough motivation and comfort to keep going; sometimes just knowing that support is available (if and when you are ready to receive it) is so powerful.

Whether you’re like Bonnie and in the process of learning more about your Indigenous roots, you lived on reserve and are dealing with the cultural shock of being a Sheridan student, or you fall somewhere along the spectrum, the Centre of Indigenous Learning and Support is a space for you too.
 
“I wish that I would have known how much support was available. I felt like because I didn’t know a lot and I wasn’t culturally connected, like I wasn’t going to fit in, kind of like an outsider, which I can imagine, unfortunately, a lot of us have felt at some point or another…if we weren’t raised with that knowledge. I wish I would have known it would have been okay to get support straight from the get-go. I wish I would have known that it was okay not to know and to just walk [into the CILS office] on my two feet…proud, regardless.” - Bonnie

We are such creative and innovative people and this panel was a reminder of just that. I left the virtual conversation inspired to know that even as recent graduates Bonnie, Semiah and Chelsea are making history and inspiring all of us to do the same. 

Centre for Indigenous Learning and Support

The Centre for Indigenous Learning and Support is committed to providing services to support First Nations (Status/Non-Status), Metis and Inuit students' success. From supporting prospective and new students and providing the chance to connect with Elders to sharing financial support resources and assisting with recruitment opportunities, the CILS is here to help.

Contact the Centre anytime you have questions, concerns, or just need someone to chat with. All are welcome, always.

For more information and resources, visit the Centre for Indigenous Learning and Support or follow them on socials at @IndigenousSher on Twitter or Facebook.