#indigezine

indige•zine is back and still open for submissions! issue 5 is all about sobriety: what it means to you, your loved ones, your indigenous communities. what are ways we can decolonize addiction and recovery? you don’t personally need to identity as “sober” to submit—please send in any work or ideas that you think contribute to the dialogue.

indige•zine issue 5 is open for submissions! what does sobriety look like in your life, the life of your loved ones, your community? how do we decolonize addiction and recovery? everything is welcome—personal essays, poetry, photography, visual art, etc.

Making noise, redefining language, wielding raucous imagery—these things serve an important role in our collective quest to decolonize relationships to our oppressors, our lovers, ourselves. Sometimes, you have to destroy and rebuild from the essentials.

indige•zine caught up with three Indigenous creatives who use their art to disrupt the boxes   that dictate the way Natives love.

Tatiana Benally

Age: 24

What she does: Hailing from the Diné Nation in Shiprock, New Mexico, Tatiana lives in New York City as a working-class student of anti-colonialist practice, resiliency, and movement. When she’s not freelancing as a media artist or barista-ing in Flatbush, she’s helping to organize events like the Indigenous Creatives Festival with Manhattan’s American Indian Community House, making interdisciplinary art and music, curating the meme page Asdzaaproletariat, frequenting a Diné communist reading group, and much more.

How do you define love?

Love is an organic and necessary connection between human beings. Love is also complex, powerful and is certainly not perfect. There are many notions of love, but the most important love is one that is conscious and respectful of the conditions we are living in.

A noteworthy quote by [political theorist and philosopher] Hannah Arendt addresses the power of an anti-colonial love as:

“Love, by reason of its passion, destroys the in-between which relates us to and separates us from others … Love, by its very nature, is unworldly, and it is for this reason rather than its rarity that it is not only apolitical but anti-political, perhaps the most powerful of all anti-political human forces.”

I find this quote so beautiful in recognizing the power of love in building solidarity and its nature to be anti-colonial. The only thing I would argue is that love is absolutely political in our time. Destroying the “in-between” that [Arendt] writes about, things like individualism and social constructs, could be read as bi-products of capitalism and colonialism. Love is anti-colonial strength in our times.  

In which ways do your concepts of love and creativity meet in your life?

For me, this is mostly observed in the healing process of expression. I often turn to creativity as a way to grapple with feelings of ennui or as a tool to explore the roots of my feelings in times of confusion. Other times, I am just plain happy and the art that I make is then a document of a time that I felt full and warm. The healing power of creation is medicine for the maker and hopefully for people who connect with the art. That’s love.

What’s one toxic thing about romance and relationship you’ve had to unlearn?

The idea that it is cute or normal to be owned by someone (i.e. “She’s mine,” “You belong to me,” etc.) Language and behavior with possessive logic are only another vehicle to integrate colonial notions of property and other outward rippling capitalist-centric lifestyles into practice. From the many recognized and unrecognized Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women (MMIW) cases, to everyday practices of consensual intimacy being breached in relationships.

Love should be founded on mutual respect and compromise, and exist without power dynamics. The purpose of love is not to be used to cushion one’s oppression, nor as a tool of coercion into capitalism. We need to do better.

What is your most potent practice of self love as an indigenous woman?

Existing unapologetically. There is so much joy in embracing who I am and what I do without fear. It is wholesome and pure and everyone needs to do so much more of it.

Dio Ganhdih

Age: 31

What they do: Dio is an Akwesane hip-hop artist with brash, bold flows packed with humor and wit. Born and raised on Haudenosaunee Territory in Upstate New York, they’re also an educator and speaker whose work centers their experience as a queer, gender non-conforming Indigenous artist seeking community amongst their intersections. They’ve made music with Anishinaabe electronic artist Ziibiwan, Peguis First Nation producer Exquisite Ghost, mestiza hip-hop artist Chhoti Maa, and many others.  

How do you decolonize your love?

With reflection and accountability of my own toxic behaviors. I take my own internal spiritual temperature and sit with self to process past traumas and explore new paths of healing. The impacts of colonization are thick and dense. Without question, colonization confuses the love that I want and contradicts my intrinsic ability to love. I work to unpack and unfold the whitewashing and heteronormative culture I was surrounded with and inevitably influenced by growing up in a small town and Native community.

As a queer indigenous musician, how do you protect your spirit?

I protect my spirit by trusting my intuition and using my powers for good. I use smoke, sweetgrass, tobacco and prayer. I attend ceremonies and carry with me traditional medicines from my people. I work with teas, herbs and plants which offer external protection and vitality as well.

If you could tell your teenage self one thing about self-love, what would it be?

Teenage me: Believe it or not, you have everything within you to provide yourself with the love, attention, and the validation you are seeking. You will never actually fill that void until you learn how to embrace yourself fully. Dig deeper and push past that binary—you got this! Konarronkwa!

Gwen Benaway

What she does: Gwen Benaway is a trans girl of Anishinaabe and Métis descent. She has published three collections of poetry, Ceremonies for the Dead, Passage, and Holy Wild. Her fourth collection of poetry, Aperture, is forthcoming from Book*hug in Spring 2020. Her writing has been published in many national publications, including CBC Arts, Maclean’s Magazine, and the Globe and Mail. She’s currently editing an anthology of fantasy short stories by trans girl writers and working on a book of creative non-fiction. She lives in Toronto, Ontario and is a Ph.D student at the Women and Gender Studies Institute at the University of Toronto.

How have you used language and poetry to decolonize the institution of love?

I don’t know that language or poetry really can decolonize love. For me, poetry and language are an embodied reflection of a living, not an artifact nor a tool as commonly used by Western mentalities. Language and poetry arises from the love and the living, but can’t liberate us in and of itself. I use poetry and language to explore and narrate my embodiment and intimacies, but decolonization happens through what you do, not what you say. I think people get tripped up on that point, thinking that their language will be their liberation, when it’s their relationally and doing/living that is the revolution.

What is one misconception about desire and relationships you wish you’d known when you were younger?

I wish I had known that it was possible to live inside multiple intimacies and not focus so much on monogamous intimacy as the ultimate relational bond. What I’ve learned is that non-sexual intimacies are very powerful and important, as are polyamorous intimacies. I have several intimacies that I’m present in which are love affairs, but none of them supersede each other. That feels really comforting to me.

I also have several deep intimacies which are non-sexual and fill a lot of spaces for me in terms of kinship and care. I think when I grew up, I just saw abusive monogamous relationships and internalized that as normal. Now, I look at extended networks of kinship, care, and multiple intimacies as my safe normal. I also wish I had embraced my bisexuality sooner but I guess some things take time to grow.

What advice do you have for fellow Indigenous trans people trying to tell their story?

My advice to other trans Indigenous folks is to stand in your language, traditions, and kinships, but also embrace your own sense of selfness.

Transness is complex. It doesn’t have to be one thing. It can look and feel like many different paths or ways of being in the world. I think it’s important to see your ancestors in your transness, but to know that you can innovate around yourself as well.

There is still a lot of transphobia around us, but we are going to find a way through it towards a different future. Never be afraid to be traditional, but never be afraid to not be traditional (or adapt traditions).

 “james baldwin”

quote from his 1963 book of essays The Fire Next Time

submit to indige•zine issue #4: decolonize love

no one, especially the settler colonial patriarchy, can tell us how to love. how does your indigenous love challenge the homophobia, transphobia, ableism, racism, and misogyny that’s normalized in this westernized society? send us your visual art, poetry, prose, personal essays, photography, stories—all is welcome.

“3 untitled poems” by marcus red shirt

“romanced bannock” by dan laurin

Advocacy takes many forms: educator, activist, artist. As Indian Country grows and becomes more connected, innovative resistances—both big and small—are sprouting through the concrete.

indige•zine did a quick round with three Natives doing their part to change the way society sees, talks about, and treats indigenous peoples.

G.M. Davis

Age: 29

What she does: Davis founded NDNInspired, a reclamation of all things culturally appropriated, or “Indian-inspired.” The online store and Instagram are filled with positive, diverse, and inspirational portrayals of everyday indigenous life. It’s a space of radical self-love for Native users everywhere.

Was there a time in your life where you had to start over?

Yes! I’m actually going through it right now. I was recently accepted into our tribal colleges’ B.A. program for Business Administration. My entire educational background surrounded science and health.So, as a returning student now majoring in business, I’m finding that I have to start over. I’m entering a field and taking classes I know very little about. Yes, I did start two businesses, but there’s still so much I need to learn! I’m nervous, but I’m also very excited. It’s a new beginning; it’s a breath of fresh air that I’ve been wanting to take for a while now.

What are some important ways in which you take care of your creativity?

Prayer and self-care. Prayer is essential to me. When I pray, I feel my mental and physical strength is reinforced—my mind is clearer, guidance is given, and needs are met. I also know that when I pray, I am changed for the better. A praying me means a clear-minded, humbled, healthy, creative me.

What’s your advice to indigenous businesswomen trying to get their ideas off the ground?

The “idea phase” could be an emotional rollercoaster, sister. Let’s be real—new ideas mean new challenges. But you got this! No excuses; you have to start somewhere. Continue to work hard, but also remember to work smart. Don’t give up on your idea, but do wait for the right time. Save, save, save your money and put it toward the come up of your business. Have faith in yourself. Be brave. Be audacious. As an indigenous woman, your success will be inspiration for many other indigenous women out there. Let that motivate you.

Xiuhtezcatl Martinez

Age: 17

What he does: Martinez has been a climate activist since he was 6 years old.  He’s spoken at the U.N. multiple times and has collaborated with over 50 environmental organizations in his hometown of Boulder, Colorado. Martinez is one of the 21 plaintiffs suing the federal government and Donald Trump’s administration for failing to protect younger generations from climate change. When he’s not traveling the world and organizing communities as the Youth Director of environmental conversation organization Earth Guardians, he makes music.

Besides creating music, how else do you practice self care?

[My work] is pretty heavy. I’m on the go a lot. I like to hang out and get in trouble and spend time with my homies. I love to be outside—in the ocean surfing, in the mountains skiing and snowboarding, finding water to jump in, playing sports like soccer and ultimate frisbee. I love to be active and be with people that I love, to be surrounded with good people and have good conversations that push the limits of what I think is possible.

As an activist and musician, what does renewal mean to you?

Renewal is the opportunity to take mistakes and things from the past that haven’t worked but that we can learn from and integrate that into the foundation of who we want to be and the things that we want to create. Renewal in the sense of my activism is taking the broken parts of this world that we’re living in and using that as a foundation to build our future. As a person and as an artist, it’s taking everything that I was, the person that I am, and the mistakes that I’ve made and allowing that to be my learning platform  where I can become a better person.

Any advice for people starting a new chapter in their life?

Life’s too short to not do what makes you happy. Whatever it is you’re putting your time and energy into, make sure it makes you happy, make sure it’s sustainable, make sure to take care of yourself. Whatever it is that you’re doing and are passionate about, you can use that to make waves in the world and tell an important story to help people. We forget how powerful we are as people and how much influence we actually have and how much potential we have to make change and create the world we dream of. Manifest, work hard for it, and fight for what you believe in—never let that go.

Sheyenne Sky

Age: 21

What she does: With her blog and YouTube platforms, Sky aims to change the lack of Native representation in art, fashion, and general Western culture. She  challenges stereotypes and educates her audience by creating content about her passions. You can catch her interviewing Native designers, vlogging environmental rallies, or sharing the recipe to her mom’s fluffy Navajo frybread.

What does rebirth mean to you?

I think it takes a lot of courage to start over. It’s a process that feels really scary at first, but the more that you do it, the more you benefit from it. I think taking a look back and realizing what you didn’t like or what you want to change and then actually going through with it, that’s a rebirth. It’s a really beneficial thing.

Was there ever a time in your life where you had to reinvent yourself?

I actually cut all my hair off in high school. I was going through a time where I was discovering my indigenous identity and I understood how important my hair was. I realized that I had been sort of detached from that—I had been dyeing it and cutting it and dyeing it and cutting it. I wanted to have a fresh start. So I cut it all off. It’s really hard to feel feminine when you have no hair. And I’m not a tomboyish person—I really enjoy femininity and expressing that. So, having no hair, I had to think differently about what it means to be feminine. That was a really transformative experience. I’m just now coming out of it. I feel a lot more confident coming out of it because I had to get used to seeing just my face. My face was really round—I lost a lot of weight. I was like, okay, I can see myself for what I am. I need to eat healthier and exercise.

Any advice for young indigenous YouTubers?