fuck the canon

I keep getting in trouble for referring to my spouse as 'my woman.' That's who she is to me--wanch ngatharam, and I'm pam nungantam, her man. Apparently that bit of paleo-misogyny loses something in translation for the metro middle-class people I'm attempting to mingle with lately, so I've had to alter my language and start saying 'my spouse.' The problem lies in the cultural baggage that comes with the possessive form in English grammar, and with the language of property law. In our Aboriginal communities, when people first meet you they will often ask, 'Who own you?' This doesn't signify a property relation--it is all about what groups, pairs and lands you belong to in your relationships, which are governed collectively. Belonging and ownership means something completely different from possession in our world. It means being in relation to family and community and place. Your belongings are not your property, but your connections. This worldview is not very compatible with the political economies, legal systems and marketplaces we must interact with to survive.

Step one: use hall bathroom instead of master bathroom, notice that Builder Beige switchplate is horrid with lovely new purple walls. Take it down and wash it thoroughly.

When I was a little baby high school student, I used to do the Living Chessboard at our local Renaissance Faire. We always used “forsooth” to indicate if someone was actually injured and needed to quickly end a choreographed fight. It was also very useful when doing little street improvisations because if someone tried to stop you, you could say “forsooth good sir, I must leave.” and they knew you couldn’t do a scene right then. We all used it in real life too, to say “no really” and it was amazing because there was a word used in a casual setting that meant “I’m not playing, I need you do listen to me.” So if someone tried to pick me up or tickle me, I could say “forsooth stop.” And I was instantly obeyed. I had “forsooth” long before I learned what a safeword was, and having a non-sexual safeword for everyday use amongst a circle of friends was the best thing ever. It made me feel very safe and listened to, even as a tiny 14 year old. Because let’s be honest, 14 year old me was teeny tiny and adorable and it’s easy to coo at kids when they say “no don’t pick me up!” but to have a word that every single person respected to mean “whatever I say after this MUST be listened to” was amazing. It gave me a definitive voice when it would have been easy to dismiss me.