Hello everyone,
I write this note on July 1st in the midst of the trauma visited upon us by the grim discovery of unmarked graves of children, we stand with bowed heads and folded palms in support of Indigenous communities, survivors and social justice warriors who have worked for generations to speak truth to power. The grace and resilience of the peoples of Tk’emlúps te Secwépemc First Nation, Cowessess First Nation, Ktunaxa Nation and all Indigenous communities across Canada continue to evoke an urgent clarion call to action demanding collective accountability from settlers, and federal and provincial governments. The centrality of violence in the ongoing racism and bigotry in Canada, leads me to meditate on the value of collective care in the critical work of decolonization. Bearing witness to experiences of violence in the context of national and global anti-violence struggles can itself generate a deep trauma that blocks our growth. As a non-Indigenous settler and a racialized woman who teaches social justice, I am interested in the politics of care and the decolonization of wellness. How do we stay nourished in our collective actions in this reality of widespread trauma?
I started examining this idea of collective care in an organic way when I became a mother in my early 20’s. Mothering can be at once a difficult and divine daily practice of care that demands critical self-awareness, humility, forgiveness, imagination, courage and community. As a young mother, I reflected with gratitude on the communal way in which I was raised by many Brown and Black women and men who taught, loved, scolded, yelled, sang and laughed me up. Today, my daughter and I are thinking of all the Indigenous children who didn’t experience the love and nurturance of community. The sense of loss is unbearable. The poignant slogan: “Every Child Matters” remains in our hearts as we consider our role in place-based solidarity. As BIPOC people, it is critical to consider the politics of care so that we can stand together in healing and strength.
I recently facilitated a research project with an Indigenous colleague to shine a light on diverse student voices who spoke about the link between self-care and collective care. Many of my students are training to work frontline with communities impacted by race, class, migration, stigma of disability, and gender-based injustices to remedy oppression. They experience the commodification of self-care and wellness. I shared with them that only focusing on my own body and mind does not validate my cultural experience, life experiences nor my collectivist understanding of care work. I tell stories about paths lit by bright stars in the galaxy of activism work: Audre Lorde, bell hooks, Angela Davis, Malcolm X, B.R. Ambedkar, Arundhati Roy, Vandana Shiva, Wangari Maathai, Winona LaDuke and Robin Wall Kimmerer. We discussed self-care in the context of their lives as they struggle to pay rising tuition fees, work in precarious jobs, raise children, manage settlement-related stressors while being in school. We discussed self-care in the context of historical genocide of Indigenous and Black lives, and the toxicity of unexamined trauma in relation to care work. They asked important questions: How am I supposed to self-care when I live in poverty? Is the concept of self-care just another commodity accessible to a privileged few? How does my self-care impact my ability to weave positive change across communities? This research revealed that although we talk about the value of “self-care,” we are not effectively teaching radical practices or tending authentic spaces where wellness can be an act of liberating ourselves and others.
We must go beyond framing self-care as an individual or professional pursuit for stress reduction and managing workplace trauma. Mainstream discourse about self-care rarely addresses systemic inequities that prevent healing solely by focusing on our own self. As practitioners interested in community health, we have to disrupt notions that encourage us to better adjust to the systems that are the source of our problems. This is where community care enters the conversation. Cooperation, collectivism, culture and traditions, mentorship, and activism have often provided powerful forms of care. Emphasizing the interconnectedness between individual and broader community healing has been critical in the history of various activism movements.
As we ponder the stark truth about our collective history, I encourage you to think about some collective care actions you might take that will feed your spirit. Here is a link to a wonderful conversation between Dr. Cindy Blackstock and Pam Palmater that shines a light on how we can collectively “step over the edge” to honour our ancestors’ dreams for us:
Cindy Blackstock on Justice and Equality for First Nations Children
I am also sharing my research report with you to inspire collective revisioning of how we think about self-care in relation to community care. If you do find a few minutes to wander through the report, please drop me a quick line. I am curious about how you practice care as an act of liberation.
Here is a quote from Angela Davis that sings to me:
“I had to recognize the importance of emphasizing the collective character of the self. Radical self-care means that we are able to bring our entire selves into the movement…and move beyond the trauma. Longevity is important. Not simply individual longevity. We have to imagine ourselves as connected to people who came before us and to those who will come after us.”
Bridging Self-Care and Community Care: Integrated Practices for Student Wellness and Resilience
Anderson-Nathe, B., DeFilippis, J.N., & Mehrotra, G.R. (2018). Deconstructing and Reconstructing Identity: How Queer Liberation Organizations Deploy Collective Identities. Journal of Sociology & Social Welfare, XLV (3), 85-110. Retrieved from: https://scholarworks.wmich.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=4217&context=jssw
Burnette, C.E. (2015). Indigenous Women’s Resilience and Resistance to Historical Oppression: A Case Ex- ample from the United States. A lia, 30 (2), 253-258. Retrieved from: https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/ pdf/10.1177/0886109914555215
Cramp, J., Indrakumar, A., Sani, B. (2017). Best Practices in Peer Support. 2017 Final Report. Addiction and Mental Health Ontario. Retrieved from: https://amho.ca/wp-content/uploads/Best-Practices-in-Peer-Support-Final-Re- port-2017.pdf
Davis, A. (2018, Dec. 17). Radical Self Care: Angela Davis (Video File). Afropunk.
Retrieved from: https://www.youtube. com/watch?v=Q1cHoL4vaBs
Giroux, C. (2020). Peer Support Group As Collective Care. Journal of Psychiatry Reform, 8 (2). Retrieved from: https:// journalofpsychiatryreform.com/2020/04/15/peer-support-group-as-collective-care/
Holman, J.T., Reardon, E. (2018). Nothing for us without us: Peer-based recovery is the latest in a long history of consumer-driven movements. Health Resources in Action. Retrieved from: https://hria.org/2018/12/18/nothing-for- us-without-us-peer-based-recovery-is-the-latest-in-a-long-history-of-consumer-driven-movements/
Mullaly, B. (2010). Challenging Oppression and Confronting Privilege (Second Edition). Toronto, Ontario: Oxford University Press.
Ortiz, N. (2018). Sustaining Spirit. Self-care for Social Justice. San Francisco, California: Reclamation Press.
Palmater, P. (2020, Dec. 11). Land Defenders & Water Protectors in a Pandemic Age (Webinar). Retrieved from: https:// fernwoodpublishing.ca/book/warrior-life
Sins Invalid. (2016). Skin, Tooth, and Bone: The basis of movement is our people. Berkeley, CA
