“Where might we find Mino-bimaadiziwin, the Good Life, in the midst of chicken nuggets, fries, a text message, and a large pop that just slid around on the tray and spilled sticky liquid on the floor? In our existence of contemporary choices, convenience, and complications, it is not always easy to maintain and continue Anishinaabe knowledge and traditions” (Grover 2017: 72).
What do you think when you read this quote? Depending on what point of view you’re coming from, you might contemplate it differently. Oftentimes, anthropologists and journalists from western countries are too quick to market this as a sign of a disappearing culture. They are reaching for what I call a sort of appropriated nostalgia for a time that wasn’t even their own but that they believe Native cultures should still occupy. Modern day amenities in this way are seen to contradict tradition, as if the two cannot exist in the same time frame.
There is a huge problem with this mindset. Not only does it freeze cultures in an imaginary and romanticized past, but it also assists in the agenda of disappearing Native cultures from the contemporary world. Tuck and Yang (2012) state this as such, “Everything within a settler colonial society strains to destroy or assimilate the Native in order to disappear them from the land – this is how a society can have multiple simultaneous and conflicting messages about Indigenous peoples, such as all Indians are dead, located in faraway reservations, that contemporary Indigenous people are less indigenous than prior generations, and that all Americans are a ‘little bit Indian’” (pg. 9).
This, of course, is not where Grover, an Ojibwe woman from Minnesota, was going with this paragraph in her book Onigamiising. Her book is full of short essays on contemporary, every day lives of Anishinaabeg. She explains,
“I believe that we live in Mino-bimaadiziwin in ways similar to those of our ancestors: in everyday lives that are given to us by the Creator. The beginning of each day is an unopened gift, and as the day goes by, we acknowledge that by doing our best to live the values that have been passed down to use for generations: gratitude, modesty, generosity, and a consideration for others and the world around us. Living a good life is our gift back to the Creator; our daily contributions, big and small (this would include mopping up spilled pop), continue the tradition of Mino-bimaadziwin” (pgs. 72-73).
For western anthropologists (and journalists as well): how can we stop defining others and instead let them define themselves? How can we ‘unsettle’ anthropology and can it ever be used as a tool to assist projects of decolonization? (Unfamiliar with settler colonialism and/or decolonization? Check out these Tuck & Yang’s article, listed in references or read this article by Kyle Powys Whyte). I do believe anthropology has come a long way since the times of Malinowski or Mead but it must continue to change so that it doesn’t continue to perpetuate oppressive colonial agendas. I find myself often asking, is anthropology salvageable? Is this really the path I want to continue to take? What will a future equitable and ethical anthropology look like?
PS. I’m sure there are many anthropologists that are working towards a better, more moral anthropology. I hope to read more of their work in the future and continue posting about this topic! As a white anthropologist, I must continuously recognize my place in the dynamics of power within this academic field and within the societies/cultures I inhabit, and do my best to work against oppressive institutions that I undoubtedly benefit from.
The Edited Jottings of an Amateur Anthropologist 