Yesterday on my local CBC radio morning show, regular guest on pop culture Jesse Wente, opened up about an issue that has caught fire in the Canadian media within the past two weeks: cultural appropriation.
The issue was originally sparked by a poorly timed, badly thought-through editorial in the journal for the Writers Union of Canada that argued for the benefits and almost necessity of cultural appropriation in writing good fiction. While the argument itself has some flaws on its own, what made it strikingly tone-deaf was that it was written by the white editor to kick off a special issue devoted to First Nations writers. There was criticism of the piece, debate, further voices adding support or denouncement of the article, a resignation and even more debate. The issue isn’t done.
Which brings me to Jesse Wente’s commentary on Metro Morning. Jesse was part of the debate and, as a cultural critic and Obijwa, has a legitimate and well-informed opinion on this matter of cultural appropriation. Appearing on the show (which I listened to first and then sought out the video feed later, see below), Jesse went beyond rhetoric in the debate and spoke to the heart of the matter about why cultural appropriation is such an important issue for him, his people, and his ancestors in a way that is beyond my ability to comment with much value. His words speak for themselves.
https://www.facebook.com/metromorning/videos/1218732138231338/
It’s real, honest, and visceral in how he points to the hard truth that those from our First Nations live with. Those of us from other lands are here on theirs and have been, often by force, oppression, lies, and deceit. This is about having hard conversations.
I didn’t do any of this to First Nations peoples, yet I am a beneficiary of those injustices. I have and continue to reap benefits from the systemic oppression, genocidal efforts, and tacit (and overt) racism that the government of the country I call home — and was legitimized by its citizens — has done to Jesse’s people for more than 150 years.
Reconciliation
This is really what it comes down to. Hard conversations are hard, so why not just not have them? That’s really the big issue. We are amazing at deflecting, denying, rationalizing, distracting or otherwise simply refusing to have hard conversations because they mean getting really deep about who we are as humans, who we are as ourselves, and accepting or at least confronting certain truths that we don’t want to face up to.
The reconciliation movement in Canada has provided a great point for this kind of discussion to happen and also brings into bear some very tricky things. Reconciliation is not about making non-First Nations people feel guilty, it’s not about making things “all better” and saying that the past is the past, nor is it about finding reparations. It’s something bigger, bolder and more aligned with real healing than any of these ideas. I was introduced into the reconciliation movement by Paul Lacerte, a policy maker, activist and member of the Nadleh Whut’en First Nation in northern BC when he spoke at a conference I attended not too long ago. He spoke eloquently about what reconciliation means and, above all, it means having hard conversations and having them often.
But it means having conversations that are about love, too. And love, when you think about it, can be as hard of a conversation as any when you mean what you say and say what you mean. That moment when you tell someone you love them for the first time, from the heart, is a game changer in a romantic union or a friendship. What reconciliation does is take that sentiment of love and initiate conversations about what that means today. If someone we love deeply has been hurt, violated, denied or neglected because of something we were a part of — historically, what does that mean?
The parallel is apt, for me. It’s easier to relate to the idea of speaking to past wrongs on a personal level than on a societal level. Yet, the conversation is still similar.
To heal is not just to repair, it’s to develop and grow. It’s about designing a future from the present building on the raw materials from the past, now and finding what’s missing in the days ahead. It’s also about being conscious and aware of what it means to hurt and live in the present. That’s what Jesse Wente did for me: he made his present far more visceral and real to me in a way that I’d not experienced. I’m still not sure what to do with it all, but I know there will be some hard conversations for me in the days and weeks ahead as a result.