8.This is a trope often applied to Indigenous peoples. If you are interested in the way in which science fiction depicts indigeneity, you might want to check out the Métis In Space podcast, cohosted by myself and Molly Swain. Here is the show description: “In otipêyimisiw-iskwêwak kihci-kîsikohk (Métis In Space), Molly and Chelsea drink a bottle of (red) wine and, from a tipsy, decolonial perspective, review a sci-fi movie or television show featuring Indigenous peoples, tropes, and themes.” You can find us on the Indian and Cowboy Media Network (http://www.indianandcowboy.com/) at: metisinspace.com.
9.See note 4.
10.Kress, Crossfire (Location 3953, Kindle version).
11.Ibid., location 52.
12.Ibid., location 558.
13.Ibid., location 562.
14.Ibid. location 1518.
15.Kim Tallbear, Native American DNA: Tribal Belonging and the False Promise of Genetic Science (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2013). This is a fantastic read on the way blood quantum has been modernized through DNA testing.
16.http://www.aadnc-aandc.gc.ca/eng/1100100032383/1100100032385, accessed April 30, 2016.
17.Debbie Reese, “About,” American Indians in Children’s Literature blog, last modified October 19, 2014, http://americanindiansinchildrensliterature.blogspot.ca/p/about.html. As a parent or an educator, if you are interested in avoiding such stereotypes in your children’s literature, here you will find a stellar resource courtesy of Debbie Reese. Debbie is enrolled at Nambe Pueblo, and does close readings of children’s literature that feature Indigenous peoples or themes. She publishes her reviews on her website.
9
What Is Cultural Appropriation?
Respecting Cultural Boundaries
Cultural appropriation is a seriously hot-button topic. It ranges from the aggressively entitled stance of “I can do whatever I want!” to the perpetually angry approach of “everything is cultural appropriation!” Of course, the former is a much larger portion of the debate, and the latter is almost always a huge strawman argument few people actually make, but it serves to bolster the idea that anyone who takes issue with cultural appropriation is a hysterical hater. That might not be clear when you first start looking into the issue, however.
I bring this topic up precisely because it does scare and confuse and inflame. Except I want to avoid all that negative stuff as best I can. I won’t be completely successful, but that is because there are no set-in-stone rules here. There is no common sense, because our viewpoints on the subject can and will diverge radically, and we lack a common understanding.
It shouldn’t need stating that I am not presenting myself as an authority on this, but I’ve found I do need to include this disclaimer. Much like in the chapter on what to call us, I present you with my thoughts on the matter, recognizing there are legitimate arguments for and against my various positions. In short, nitôtêmitik, this issue isn’t easy for anyone – not for me, not for you. If easy answers are what you seek, I shall leave you disappointed. I promise.
Because so much has been said on this topic about colonialism and racism and marginalization, and so forth, I want to add in a few points from a related but slightly different perspective than I often see discussed. To cut down on verbiage (too late), consider this entire chapter an add-on to the larger discussion, rather than a complete encapsulation of it.1
Knee-jerk arguments to avoid (if you give two craps)
Whenever the topic of cultural appropriation comes up (usually in the context of someone engaging in it), there are a series of knee-jerk arguments that almost always occur. If you are facing the issue of cultural appropriation for the very first time – perhaps even being told you’ve done something cultural appropriative – then this debate will be new to you.
If, on the other hand, you have been trying to address cultural appropriation for any length of time, these arguments are predictable, and extremely frustrating. It can feel Promethean having to experience your intellectual liver being consumed over and over by the same tired talking points, with no progress to show, and no chance of escaping your punishment for “bringing it up.”
I thought I would start with some of the standards to show you that, yes, we’ve heard it before, and, no, none of these arguments is a get-out-of-jail-free card. If you really care about the issue, you’ll move beyond these points and have an honest discussion. If you don’t care about the issue, why are you reading this, anyway? Just admit you don’t care if what you do offends someone, and move on!
Consider the following:
I’m just showing my appreciation for the culture!
There are much more serious issues to worry about; you must not care about those things if this is all you focus on.
I don’t find this offensive/I’m part (insert claim to the culture), and I think this is okay/my friend who is (insert culture) thinks this is fine.
You should be happy people care about your culture and want to celebrate it!
Nothing is sacred/no one has a right to tell anyone what to do. Freedom of speeeeeeech!
All cultures borrow from one another.
If you are wearing jeans and typing on a computer, you’re appropriating Western culture.
I’m an artist, and I draw inspiration from everything around me. Artistic freeeeeeedom!
I don’t mind if you use things from my culture.
What about the Irish?!!2
I don’t want to engage these arguments anymore. They are like a hydra; you explain why one argument does not excuse cultural appropriation, and three more arguments get thrown at you. Having to address each one of these points again and again and again and again and again and…. Well, you get the picture. It’s boring, it’s frustrating, and it gets us nowhere. Let’s start this from somewhere else this time.
A guy walks into a bar and asks…
What do the Victoria Cross,3 the Order of Canada,4 a framed bachelor’s degree, the Giller Prize,5 and an eagle feather all have in common?
There is no punch line, actually. Each one of these things is a symbol, a visual recognition of a certain kind of achievement. I’m sure you can think of many more of these symbols of military, humanitarian, academic, literary, or what-have-you achievements.
The symbol is important but only because of what it represents. Without that deeper meaning, the Victoria Cross is gaudy jewellery, a bachelor’s degree is just a piece of paper, the Giller Prize is abstract art, and an eagle feather is just an ornament.
These symbols are restricted to those who have fulfilled certain criteria. Yes, there are people out there who would mock the symbols and wear representations of them for kicks. They’d get some odd looks, though. I mean – how ironic can you claim to be lugging around a fake Giller Prize?
There are also people who would lie about their achievements and pretend to have earned what the symbols represent. You can imagine the reaction to someone pretending he’d earned the Victoria Cross or someone claiming she has a degree in medicine, when they have not. Sometimes, these kinds of claims are met with criminal sanction, so seriously do we take this sort of thing.
Restricted versus unrestricted
There is a category of symbols in Canadian culture that is restricted within that culture. Not everyone can use those restricted symbols. There are rules about how you can earn them, who can fashion the symbols for you, who can present you with these symbols, and even sometimes what you can do with the symbols. Always behind each material, physical symbol is the often intangible thing you achieved that is linked to the symbol itself. Obviously, other cultures also have restricted symbols linked to deeper, less obviously visible achievements.
Then, there are symbols in Canadian culture that are not restricted to those who have achieved specific things. Every Canadian is entitled to use the Canadian flag, for example, and the meaning behind the use of the flag will vary depending on what a person individually wishes to symbolize. A connection to the country? A call for unity? A protest ag
ainst some action or policy? Questionable fashion?
The meaning varies though the symbol stays the same, and we can (and do) alter that meaning with how we use the symbol. We express different ideas with how we use the symbol, and we do not generally punish people for doing what they want with that symbol.
If someone unfamiliar with Canadian culture were to decorate herself with a string of fake Victoria Crosses, the reaction would be different than if the same person draped a Canadian flag over her non-Canadian shoulders.
In the case of the Victoria Cross, there is a possibility the person wants to make a statement about what the Victoria Cross represents. That would require understanding what the medal represents, of course. Simply choosing it because it looks nice and wanting to wear it to a party does not a statement make.
Since the Canadian flag does not have such a clear-cut meaning, there is not as much need to understand what it means. Its meaning can vary just as much outside Canadian culture as within it. Canadians might be offended with how someone outside the culture uses the flag, but they can also just as likely be offended by how someone within the culture uses it.
Cheapen the symbol, cheapen the achievement
In case it isn’t extremely clear, eagle feathers are restricted symbols in the many Indigenous cultures found throughout Canada and the United States. They represent various achievements made by the person who is presented with the feather. Being presented with a feather is a great honour. Many Indigenous peoples will receive only one in their lifetime or perhaps never have that opportunity.
Because of the significance of the eagle feather, very few Indigenous peoples would display feathers they haven’t earned. It would be like wearing that Victoria Cross I keep mentioning. Someone outside the culture might not realize what the symbol means and perhaps would not call that person out in disgust for wearing it, but those from within the culture probably would. It would be shameful.
It also cheapens the symbols earned by others. Oh, those who earned the symbol would still know what they did, and that would never go away, but part of the power of a symbol is what it says to others. These kinds of symbols are not solely for our own personal recognition of our achievements. They say, “Here is a visual representation of the honour bestowed upon this person for his or her achievement.” When everyone is running around with a copy of that symbol, then it is easy to forget some people have to earn it and it means something. In fact, when many people run around with copies of restricted symbols, there may never be widespread understanding the symbol ever meant anything.
That is exactly where we are at with so many symbols from cultures other than our own: no understanding of everything they mean, and if they are restricted or not, and why.
The symbol most appropriated from Indigenous peoples of Canada and the United States is the okimâw-astotin, the headdress. For the most part, headdresses are restricted items. In particular, the headdress worn by most non-Indigenous peoples imitates those worn traditionally by only a handful of Plains nations. These headdresses are sometimes further restricted within some of those nations to men who have done certain things to earn them.
Now that you know these things, unless you are an Indigenous male from a Plains nation who has earned a headdress, an Indigenous female from one of those Plains nations that have women’s headdresses, or you have been given permission to wear one (sort of like being presented with an honorary degree), then you will have a very difficult time making a case for how wearing one is anything other than disrespectful.6 If you choose to be disrespectful, please do not be surprised when people are offended, regardless of why you think you are entitled to do this.
Even if you have “Native friends,” or are part-Indigenous yourself, individual choices to “not be offended” do not trump our collective rights as peoples to define our symbols.
How do I know what’s restricted and what isn’t?
Ask.
Ha, okay, of course I have more to say on the subject, but it really can be as simple as asking sometimes, or even just doing a little research on ye olde interweb.
I find nothing wrong with someone wearing beaded Métis moccasins, for example. Moccasins are not restricted in my culture. They are often beautiful works of art, but they are not symbols of achievement beyond the amazing work put into them by the artisan.
I would not be okay with someone wearing a Métis sash if they are not Métis, however.7 The sash has become a symbol of identity and achievement. Perhaps it was not always that way, because in the past it was a very utilitarian item used to carry all sorts of things (including infants), or to tie your coat together, or what have you. But it is a powerful symbol now and sometimes presented to Métis in the same way the eagle feather is presented.
Stop rolling your eyes at the term sacred and think important instead.
I do not care if you are religious, spiritual, or atheist. These are choices you make, and I respect them. However, because of the turbulent history of religion in Western settler philosophy, as well as in many other parts of the world, the translation of terms from our languages into the word sacred can sometimes cause confusion and trouble – being associated mostly with organized religion. Let’s talk about that for a second.
I feel that when many other cultures discuss “sacred” things, some people feel obligated to reject or elevate those things because of how they feel about their own religious traditions or their atheism. The issue gets confused as being about religion, when that is not necessarily what is going on. Someone might argue, for example, that as an atheist, one has no obligation to respect any sacred object, because religion is bunk. Or, someone might try to compare the object in question to something sacred in their own faith and find the comparison lacking.
Usually when we say “sacred,” there are more complex terms in our own language that apply, all of which basically mean the thing in question is important and meaningful in a specific way. When you see the term sacred, please remember that. Do not come at the concept through the lens of your own religion – or lack of religion.
Adapting to the interest
The Maori have sacred tattoos called “tā moko.” As I note above, this is not just some religious mumbo-jumbo without further meaning. The tattoos are specific symbolic representations of relationships, often kinship relationships. In addition, they no doubt have all sorts of meanings I don’t have a clue about, because I am not Maori. The point is, they aren’t just pretty designs. They are designs with restricted, important meaning.
But they are nice. Like, really beautifully, wonderfully, gorgeously nice, and humans like nice things and want them for themselves. So when non-Maori started copying these tattoos, a decision was made to promote kirituhi. These are designs similar to tā-moko, but without the specific important meanings. The kirituhi are not restricted and are specifically designed to accommodate interest in the style of tattoo without violating the meaning of the tā-moko.
More important, the decision to create a nonsacred version of the tattoos was made within the culture. It is very likely that not every Maori person agreed this should be done at all, but you will never have complete agreement in any community.
It is extremely problematic when people from outside a culture decide a restricted symbol should be changed, or opened up, and made nonrestricted. Generally, the people from outside a culture who take this task upon themselves do not actually understand the symbol they are dealing with. Even in cases where they do have this understanding, the imposition of change on a group replicates colonial violence in a way no ally or supporter of a group should ever engage in. If a group does not wish to adapt to the interest of outsiders, that is their choice and their right.
Respectful access
I would be uncomfortable wearing a sari. For one thing, I have no idea how to put one on and would end up looking terrible, but they are truly beautiful, aren’t they? Amazing fabrics I can drool over all day. Yet, my discomfort is not really about how to wear them, no
r is it based on the sari being a restricted form of dress – because, as far as I know, it is not.
I would feel uncomfortable because I know very little about the cultures from whence the sari comes. I have not attended an Indian wedding or other occasions where wearing a sari makes sense for a person who is not South Asian. I do not believe I would be disrespecting South Asian cultures by wearing a sari – unless I chose the very unfortunate day of Halloween to put it on as a costume, in which case, please feel free to metaphorically slap me. Nonetheless, my lack of any real connection to South Asian cultures makes the entire thing awkward.
Other people who are not South Asian have experiences with and within the cultures that mean they can wear the sari and not feel strange. I think some people from outside a culture can have legitimate access to these things without it being cultural appropriation. The key, in my opinion, is respect. Not declared respect from the person wishing to access something, but rather respecting the cultural expectations of access as laid out within the culture itself. As in, when you are told “this is how you do this respectfully,” you don’t pooh-pooh the guidelines; you follow them.
It is a minefield, because thoughtless cultural appropriation of meaningful symbols is still very much the status quo in settler cultures. Mocking or prohibiting non-Western forms of dress, even creating overblown (and xenophobic) political controversies over them, is frighteningly common.8 Indigenous people, Black people, and non-Black POC often have to fight to be allowed to wear traditional styles. For example, Baltej Singh Dhillon came up against an RCMP ban on turbans and, after a long fight, became, in 1999, the first RCMP officer allowed to wear one.9 In 2009, in Thunder Bay, a young First Nations boy had his long hair cut off by a teacher’s aide without his consent, leading to a human-rights complaint (that was settled in 2012). He had been growing it long in order to participate in traditional First Nations dancing.10 Lettia McNickle, a Black woman in Montreal, had a complaint filed on her behalf with Quebec’s Human Rights Commission when her employer sent her home for having neatly braided hair.11
Indigenous Writes Page 11