I Am Not Your Ally By Suki Davis, Social Justice Contact and Nanaimo teacher
I
work in Indigenous education, and I am white. My students come from First Nations and Métis backgrounds from all over Canada. I often wonder, “Why is a white person in this role? Do I have a deeper role than a teacher? What do the students see when they look at me?” I have spent considerable time thinking about this. At first I thought, “I am a bridge person bridging the cultures.” But that did not sit well. I wondered how I got this entitled position of gatekeeper to the dominant culture. The metaphor just did not work for me.
themes of race and stereotypes and making these ideas accessible to English language learners. Activities ranged from analyzing songs by Tupac to watching The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air and clips from the film Fruitvale Station. This allowed me to approach the harsh realities of racialized violence in the most culturally relevant way. As the year came to a close, I sat down with one of the department heads and discussed strategies to teach the novel and which resources worked well. As she took notes, she reluctantly asked me if the students thought that I was reliving my past with my approach to hip hop. The answer was no, because hip hop is still relevant and, unfortunately, the racial disparities black popular culture addresses remain relevant as well. I walked away from that meeting wondering whether someone else would be asked that question if they taught the works of Bob Dylan and Joni Mitchell with the same passion. The classroom should be a space where texts, in all their diversity, are in power in different ways.
BCTF Social Justice Newsletter, Winter/Spring 2020
Then I tried following the crowd and thought, “I am an ally supporting my learners,” but that felt wrong too. I reflected on the actions of the Allies during the world wars. If I were a true ally, I would stand to benefit from their “wins.” I could enlist their support in my own struggles, and I would send my own troops into battle knowing we could profit from our combined efforts. Of course, I would maintain my own culture and thoughts and values. I would have less at stake to lose. When the battle was over, my “country” would be just the same. I thought again about my students and determined, “I am not your ally.” What I am thinking now is that I am a co-conspirator. In times gone by, the workers in France were unsettled by the conditions that they laboured under. One day, the workers took off their cheap leather shoes, called sabots, and threw them into the machines, sabotaging the gears. I wish I could have been there! In that place and time, there were no “bridge people” who were supporting the French workers to understand the new way. There were no allies cheering them on and offering extra sabots to throw. No one was “helping” with a patronizing flare. There were just the coconspirators, standing side by side with each other. I imagine how each one might have been missing one shoe as they stood watching the machine shudder to a halt. That is who I want to be. I want to be a co-conspirator, standing shoulder to shoulder, throwing our shoes to stop the colonial machine—not for my own personal gain and not to lift up someone lesser or different than me. I want to conspire together to break the colonial machine that has brought with it racism, misogyny, and all manner of environmental destruction. Allies might be nice, but co-conspirators are fundamental if we want to stop this machine. Take a look at your feet. Are you willing to lose a shoe together? 11
