Not Forgotten!
really only makes sense with the visual thesis that can be viewed here
http://www.isuma.tv/hi/en/tannis-nielsen
She knew.
“No!”
About being an Indian.
“I used to know those things.”
She knew,
because she was witness,
to the erasure
of her-story.
Born into a political position of imperial subjugation in 1914, My Grandmother suffered the effects of living under a colonial policy that was “[…] designed to […] obliterate identities, memories and to silence or to suppress [traditional] ways of knowing […]. “ (Pg. 36 Smith) “Not forgotten!” is a visual oratorical narrative of reclamation, “ of reconnecting and reordering [our] ways of knowing “which were submerged, hidden or driven under ground”(pg. 69 Smith) by an imperial domination, that was born and justified by theories stemming from the enlightenment. Theories such as Thomas Hobbes’ "state of nature," “manifest destiny” and modernists reference to the “theory of the universal”. The negative effects of these theories upon Indigenous peoples have been countless, and today, we continue to be “oppressed by theory” (pg38 Smith)
“Not forgotten!” is a visual, oratorical form of resistance against “cognitive imperialism.” Both the artwork and the writing, serve as sights of testimony against the structures that enforced the “forgetting” of localized histories.
In writing about this work, I attempt to deconstruct / decolonize the structures of English literacy by utilizing an anti-colonial “first-voice” Indigenous perspective. I choose sovereignty in writing with the recognition that “language carries culture and the language of the colonizer became the means by which the mental universe of the colonized was dominated.” ( Ngugi wa Thiong’o Pg 36 Smith.)
and also because;
attempting to use
an imperial structure / a foreign language
to articulate my Grandmothers voice
would only serve in taking “it” away.
making it
further - forgotten.
forced to become
erased and replaced
by the colonial -containments –
of an english punctuation.
it is ….THIS
I RESIST
because attempting to use
the structure of a language
that originally sought to contain
my Own
would only serve in
taking it way
contributing further
to the loss of My Grandmothers
ORIGINAL -Traditional - Rhythmic,
Indigenous essence.
Indigenous scholars such as Jean Frye Graveline, and Peter Cole and Ngugi wa Thiong’o have already set precedence for this type of ant-colonial discourse. In fact, Peter Cole wrote his entire dissertation “without chapters and punctuation.” When asked how he was able to have his dissertation accepted he replied that “he didn’t ask if he could; he recognized that it was just what he needed to do. The permission resided in himself” (CAUT report). Cole wrote
we are narrators narratives voices interlocutors of our own knowings
we can determine for ourselves what our educational needs are
before the coming of churches residential schools prisons
before we knew how we knew we knew
As a Native woman writing within the academy, I choose “this view of [performative literature as it] parallels the commitment within certain forms of “Red Pedagogy to the Performative,” as a way of being, as a way of knowing, as a way of expressing moral ties to the community.” (Graveline, 2000, p. 361; Grande, 2000, p. 356).
this performative style of writing
is parallel
to the circular nature of the narrative
in “Not forgotten!
as my intent in creating this piece
was to represent
the decoding of colonial memory
I could not write of it
by using
a colonial voice
and so
I choose sovereignty in writing
Because My voice and rhthym
Refuse to be contained
within definitive
definitions
That are not my own.
“I lack imagination you say
No. I lack language
The language to clarify
my resistance to the literate…”
(Cherrie Moraga)
in “Not forgotten!”
I use “first voice” perspective
x’s four.
as the stories being told -are narrated by
my Mother
my Grandmother
my Earth Mother
and Myself.
by doing this –
I wanted the viewer
to feel a sense
of how it would be
to visually layer
voice
within the movement
of memory.
as retold, reflected and repeated
upon the mylar
and upon the walls
an all encompassing
Matriarchal subconsciousness
-here
it was my hope
that the viewer would also recognize
themselves
in the story
of colonialism.
as we are all involved
there is no escaping
that truth
only Light
is seen to escape
Light = truth
escaping time
Light Creates Time
the Light here
is an Ancient
Embryonic time
a primordial soup
a Living Entity
Created
and – animated by memory
here,
I wanted the viewer
to feel
as if they walked into an
inner-cognitive space
containing narratives of healing
from oppression,
Resistance and of mourning.
and because the space here
is connected to land
the voices of Earth
are comfort
to the experience
Of listening
to Crow, to Cricket,
to Eagle
Wind and Thunder
and this space here
is circular
as is memory
as is
time
and with - all Time
the rising of Time
begins in the east
this is why
Silver faces clockwise
towards
(the place -of all beginning).
HERE-
in the EAST
spring.
breaks Water
giving Birth,
Breath and Light
to Life
to Time
to memories
of clarity
through projected illuminations
from which my Grandmother speaks
of Inherent
Cultural Memory
here- She remembers
saying
Yes!
I remember!
shooting at that target
Bullseye!
We’re good like that-Yah know
Yes!
from the Chippewayans
I remember
I was thinking…
“oush tehm o’ tay”
come here sweetheart
Yes!
I remember
“oush tehm o’ tay
here
the cuts
between each edit
in the east
brings light
flashing
in unison
to
the voice of an Eagle
(our connection)
to Light
to Truth
to Creation
to the east.
which is free
un-contained
uncontaminated by
colonial infection.
that sickness / imperial contagion
begins in the south
a time of adolescence
of learning and trusting
in the evil of
whats been taught by settler society
here
my grandmother remembers
her erasure
she says
“the nuns were the ones:
“I greatly feared”
when I was young
I wonder why I was such a scaredy cat
when I was young
I greatly feared!
Christ
when I was young
the priest
had a gown
and prayed for me
to be cured
I was no good
And…
at that convent
you know
we all went to school with the nuns…
I wonder why I was such a scaredy cat
when I was young
the nuns were the ones…
I greatly feared
when I was young
so that’s where we learnt
I was no good
here- in the southern direction
I edited
and filled the cuts
with blackness
and Thunder
as blackness, seems empty-
like an erasure
-though Thunder fills
the space in between
blackness
as an opposition
filling in
resistance to erasure.
the Thunder
…….like the Drum
also resists
what is to come from the west
adulthood
Confrontation
Authority
and Anarchy
the shadows
become long
they grow- to protect and to blanket
my Kookums Knowledge
from becoming
Completely erased.
here my Grandmothers voice
opposes what my mother
is saying.
as my mother remembers
what she’d been told
by her Father
about her people
Grandmother denies
only
as a means to protect
her daughter.
here they speak together
about being Indian
No!
She knew
No!
About a culture
No
That took
No
Our culture
No
Away
No
Took our children away
No
She knew about being an Indian
No
She was crying
No
She knew
No
About life
No
Of Liberty
No
And Happiness
No
Except for Indians
No
Dumb Indians
No
Stupid Indians
Oh I forget
Stealing Indians
She knew
No
about being an Indian
here
in the west
edits were cut
to the sound of a loon
suggesting night
and darker shadows
filled with trickster sounds
of crickets
first calming
then screaming
under skin
a struggle
a confrontation
taken place
in the west
between my Mothers
and Earth Mother
while
my Grandfather sings
in Cree
yes-
a song
in Cree
though not a traditional song
it’s about drinking
see the struggle
feel the crickets
and the pounding of thunder
in the hearts of my mothers
EARTH BEATS
memory -into my mothers
so that their stories
will be told
and Not Forgotten
here
I wanted the viewer to feel uneasy
by editing into the piece
a rhythmic insistence
to listen
to all of my Mothers
mothers
and Grandmothers
Resisting.
here
I hoped that the viewer would feel
their own resistance
to the telling of our truths
as told by my Mother
Grandmother
and Earth Mother.
who say
She knew
No!
Why white people are insulted When I defend
No
My race
No
My people
No
Do they not think
No
We are just as tired
No
In the North
the place of winter
all is tired
except for
Memory
and so, the North
is a place to begin
the emancipation of memory.
because-as time gets slow
and shadows
become night
there begins a time for stories
about ancestors who had falling
Fighting
For freedom
here
my Grandmother tells the story
as she remembers
here
the north
was not broken
Memories
flow and are edited in
a visual rhythm
there is a sense
Of quiet
Of death
Of struggle
Of Memories
and also of Spirits
Freeing memory
so that Grandmother
can return to the east
in a good way.
full circle
both in and out of colonialism
a colonial narrative that became undone
by the telling
of what she had witnessed
her testimony
is not forgotten
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