7 minute read
BY: STAFF
Acts of Resistance
by a Native Scholar!
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Comic by: Danielle Lucero
Often times Native students are required to be in school during important moments in Indigenous history. It can be very difficult for them to have to choose between their schoolwork and their desire to be a part of Indigenous movements. For me, I desperately wanted to drop out of Harvard and go to Standing Rock to fight for our rights to land, water, and for our sovereignty. It was during this deep internal struggle where I started to think about small ways in which I can resist and exert my presence in institutions that were not built for me. As a result, this comic follows our newly born Native Scholar, Febe, and how she embodies resistance through small acts meaningful acts.
WATER IS LIFE
202
no more freeways on O’odham land!
When I have time I try to attend rallies And protests. But sometimes that can be hard and Being a student, I don’t have a lot of time to atttend and help organize...
So here are 4 ways I resist in my daily life as graduate student!
1: Drinking coffee from a mug that lets people know what’s up!
2: Leaving notes of land acknowledgement on empty classroom chalk boards! 3: Turning in an assignment that privileges my indigenous knowledge...and humor!
As you can see, there are lots of small ways to resist and assert your place in this institution! What are some of your Favorite ways to assert your place and celebrate your indigeneity?
Grief & Loss
The loss of a loved one is a difficult topic. For Natives, it’s a topic that goes undiscussed, avoided and is often times taboo, but what do you do when you’re in school and someone important passes away?
Lucero’s ofrenda (altar) to her uncle is a beautiful mix of her Pueblo and Chicana cultures, organized to honor and remember. The pottery at the center represents Lucero’s heart and healing. (Photo by: Brian Skeet/Turning Points Magazine.)
There isn’t a handbook or a Google search that’ll give you answers. My words aren’t going to give many answers, but they can walk you through what I did when it happened to me. Hopefully you will find some comfort, resources and advice within my story.
It was the first week of the semester. My parents were in town helping me move into a new apartment when we got a phone call: my beloved uncle was in the hospital and it didn’t look good. So we scrambled, loud imaginary sirens wailed in my head as I helped my dad purchase a plane ticket to rush to his younger brother’s aid in New Mexico.
A few hours after my dad landed, we received dreaded phone call number two: my uncle passed away. I sat alone on the floor in my unfurnished apartment and cried a deep aching sob, a sorrow so deep that I was grateful to be alone at that moment. Being the oldest child, I knew my role to be strong, hold it together, be there for others and deal with my own grief later. I told myself, “Get off the ground, wipe your eyes and be strong for your family.”
Compartmentalization is what it’s called-- placing portions of your life in boxes that you can return to another time. It’s good in moderation and a useful skill to learn; it can also be a recipe for disaster if you forget to process boxes or run out of room in your imaginary storage unit.
My mom asked what I wanted to do about school and homework, and both came barreling forward. I was supposed to start a research assistantship, had articles to read, a conference proposal due, and still needed to buy books for class. Panic ensued-- how am I supposed to sit in class and discuss Foucault while a sense of emotional numbness is engulfing my entire being?
Danielle's
Tips Email your academic advisor and let them know what is going on. Be as honest as you feel comfortable with and do not ask for permission. Inform them you’ll be going home to take care of yourself, your family and bury your loved one. Use dates on how long you’ll be gone and ask them to email your professors on your behalf.
If you don’t have an academic advisor, email your professors directly. Share however much you feel comfortable with. In the Pueblo world, our funerals are several days and I wrote my professors something along the lines of, “Following traditional Pueblo ceremonies, our funerals last a total of four days and I will need to be gone from ___ to ____ to participate in this ceremony and be with family.”
I learned these tips through trial and error, and through tips from friends and professors. In this instance, I sent zero emails because writing the words “my uncle passed away” made my heart ache. It meant that he really was gone.
Returning to Phoenix, I felt guilt and loneliness. My world had just been permanently altered yet I was expected to carry on with business as usual. I almost quit school, but I knew how proud both my uncle was of my ambitious goals and my dad is of my presence in these institutions that weren’t made for our family. I decided to keep going for my family and myself.
The state of my new apartment when I returned home mimicked how I felt internally: a mess, confused about where things should go. That night I slept on the floor and sobbed uncontrollably.
My advice is to cry, cry and cry again when you feel ache or sorrow because trying to deny it will only cause an implosion later. Grief demands to be felt and heard. We must respect and honor that. I felt myself disappearing into this wave of sorrow and facade of strength; it felt good to emote my grief so helped me navigate the ASU holistically. Counseling Center and
That first week back was were compassionate and a blur. I was operating in this appreciated my vulnerability. haze of grief. It’s something In the mornings when I that I’m still learning to wake up, I still have about cope with by allowing grief 30 seconds where I forget a place within my studies that my uncle is gone. They because compartmentalizing are a beautiful 30 seconds. it, denying its impact Then I get out of bed and on my school work is tackle the day the best I not something I could can. Some days are better disassociate from. than others. Some days I
Confront can’t listen your grief “Grief to the radio head on. I because went to my demands music professors’ office hours to be felt causes my heart to to talk with them about and heard. ache, other days music how I was struggling We must is my only solace. through this tough time. respect and I’m still on this journey, The first professor honor that.” and if there’s anything I visited, I to take couldn’t make it through the away from my story, it’s whole speech I prepared this: vulnerability is to be and started crying. When admired, not be ashamed they handed me a Kleenex of. Professors, advisors and and shared their own story students are human-- trust in with grief, I realized that their humanity to work with we all experience loss. you through this process We have moments in life of healing. Be as open and where we do everything to honest with people as you hold it together, but we’re are comfortable with, but not invincible; we will fall make sure you let people apart and must embrace know what is going on. You vulnerability. I’m privileged don’t need to suffer alone to have an advisor who and you are most definitely supported and encouraged a strong Indigenous soul. me to be honest with my Remember that! grief, and professors who
EMPACT-24 Hour ASU Counseling & Crisis Support Line: 480-921-1006
For considerations & resources for grieving students visit: Student Advocacy and Assistance
