Decolonizing Canada Day while reclaiming grief and histories of resistance
Today is heavy. I am left to deconstruct pounds of my identity. Memories come in the form of joy, sorry, and grief. Butler noted that the self is never autonomous, and that it is part of our being to be connected with others. Thus, when we lose someone, our process of grief is complex, in that the destination is unknown.
This day, 6 years ago part of me got buried as Allah took my dad back. I am still in the process of grief.
It is beautifully complicated because July 1st also involves joy of my Somali ancestors moving forward by fighting for their independence against the white colonizers. Therefore, my grief process includes recalling the Somali in my dad: his intellect, his boldness and his education. Thus, my grief includes a scent of pride. As I recall how culturally prideful my dad was. Even though Whiteness attempted to strip him from his doctoral degree and borders undertook the process of cleansing him of his identity, he remained proudly Somali.
