November is Indigenous Peoples Month

By Amy Moran, Ph.D.

In the schools of our childhoods, white colonial histories, norms and perspectives were reinforced at the expense—indeed, the omission—of those of Indigenous people who were already here. And many of us now teach American history written from the point of view of the colonizers, often unknowingly reinforcing white supremacist ideals.  

It’s been said that silence is violence, meaning that when we choose not to address injustice or decide against being an upstander, we’re allowing the injustice to continue. Our non-response is complicity with the oppressive social forces. Critical literacies support reading texts through the lens of noticing what’s missing, whose voices have been silenced, and whose experiences have been omitted in service of reinforcing power dynamics that put some at the center while relegating others to the margins. This certainly is the case with Indigenous studies and LGBTQIA+ studies in our American history texts and pedagogies. 

As we continue to raise awareness around LGBTQIA+ issues in schools, we can work with students to explore and appreciate some of the ways various Indigenous cultures honor LGBTQIA+ community members. For example, gender nonbinary people have always existed in cultures around the globe, and various Indigenous communities in North America are no exception. The term Two Spirit was adopted from niizh manidoowag (two spirits) in the Anishinaabe language from the Great Lakes region as part of the modern pan-Indian vocabulary. This occurred during the third annual inter-tribal Native American/First Nations Gay and Lesbian American Conference in 1990. But as the National Congress of American Indians (NCAI) indicates, many tribal members prefer to use words for the variety of genders from their own people’s language.  

This autumn, we’ve seen two powerful examples of LGBTQIA+ allyship within and by Indigenous communities in entertainment media.  

First, actor and Emmy nominee D’Pharaoh Woon-A-Tai (Oji-Cree), the lead in Reservation Dogs, arrived at this year’s Emmy awards with a red handprint inked over his mouth. He did this to raise awareness around missing and murdered Indigenous women and Two Spirited people. His protest brought attention to Hollywood’s reinforcement of the white, cisgender, heterosexual, patriarchal ideals as enforced by a paucity of films that represent the lived experiences of Indigenous people. The action also cast a spotlight on the multiple forms of violence Indigenous people continue to experience in the U.S.  

Second, in a poignant scene in the Netflix documentary Will and Harper, Will Farrell’s friend Harper Steele—a newly out trans woman—visits a small-town Oklahoma bar where she encounters threatening signs and signals. However, she is welcomed warmly, especially by two Native American gentlemen who serenade her with their tribal music to welcome her to that space and that land. 

New Jersey’s progressive and affirming education policies provide a scaffold for interrupting imperialist pedagogies about colonial histories. How can we think of social and emotional learning competencies, Holocaust and genocide studies, and the curricular mandate to include experiences of LGBTQIA+ people and people with disabilities as tools of decolonization? How can we use those tools to re-center marginalized people and expand our view of social studies as opportunities to deepen our understanding of humanity by framing decolonization as a justice issue? Questions like these help shift our thinking toward social studies education as a moral imperative to analyze power dynamics, bring injustice to light and forge new patterns and policies that prevent similar injustices from recurring. 

If you don’t identify as a First Nations person and/or don’t live near Native American communities, you may not center your cultural awareness on Indigenous issues. But like with other identities that may not belong to us, we can make it our responsibility—indeed our honor—to acknowledge, affirm and celebrate Indigenous cultures, concerns and contributions across this land. 

Amy Moran, Ph.D. is an out queer educator, leader and activist working to make education affirming and inclusive for all of their students and colleagues. Moran has taught middle school for 29 years and was a high school GSA adviser for 16 years. She can be reached at rainbowconnectionNJEA@gmail.com

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