Module 5

Reflection of Learning

As I worked through the first five modules, I was surprised by how much my thinking and perspective shifted, especially in areas I thought I already understood. In Module 1, learning more about land acknowledgements really changed how I approach them. I used to see them as a formal or expected part of meetings or school events, but now I recognize how important it is to make them personal and intentional. I appreciated the focus on language, accuracy, and the idea that land acknowledgements are just one part of building meaningful relationships with Indigenous communities.

Module 2 helped me deepen my understanding of Indigenous worldviews, especially around land, kinship, and knowledge. The idea that kinship extends beyond family to include land, animals, and community stood out to me. I found myself thinking more about how to bring those values into the classroom, creating a stronger sense of connection and responsibility. Learning about plants like salal from both a cultural and ecological lens showed me how much I didn’t know about what’s been right in front of me all my life. The Two-Eyed Seeing approach felt especially useful - it gave me a practical way to think about how to hold space for different ways of knowing in my teaching.

Modules 3 and 4 were heavy, but necessary. I knew about residential schools, but diving deeper into the Indian Act, the Sixties Scoop, and the Doctrine of Discovery was unsettling. What really stuck with me were the stories and videos that shared lived experiences, those helped me connect emotionally and not just academically. It also made me think about how these legacies still impact students and families today. I was especially moved by the work of Indigenous women and Two-Spirit people who continue to push back against colonial structures in powerful ways.

In Module 5, I appreciated the shift toward Indigenous excellence and revitalization. It was encouraging to see examples of strength, leadership, and creativity, from athletes and artists to language keepers and political leaders. The story of the Haida Nation’s self-governance efforts was inspiring and showed a different, more hopeful path forward. At the same time, learning about healthcare gaps and ongoing challenges reminded me that we’re not there yet and that reconciliation isn’t just about awareness, it’s about action.

Overall, these modules challenged me to think more critically and act more intentionally. I still have a lot to learn, but I feel more confident in recognizing where I can do better, especially in education spaces. As an educator and ally, my challenge now is to hold tension - between mourning and celebration, critique and creation - and to keep listening, learning, and showing up, day after day, with humility and hope. I’m leaving this first half of the course with a deeper understanding and a stronger commitment to learning alongside Indigenous voices and communities. 

Artifact #1: Indigenous Art as Activism

How can art be a powerful method of translating stories and demonstrating an understanding of essential messages about activism, resistance, and social change? 

Engaging with the stories of Indigenous resistance through art has deepened my understanding of how creativity becomes a vital tool for activism, truth-telling, and reclaiming sovereignty. Listening to How Idle No More Transformed Canada, I was struck by how singing, drumming, and dancing in public spaces were not just protests, but sacred expressions of collective identity and cultural survival (McAdam, 2022). These acts showed me how art can bypass political systems and speak directly to the heart. Similarly, in Don’t Call Me Resilient, Ellen Gabriel reminded me that defending land is not performative - it is a deeply rooted expression of love, responsibility, and survival. These are ideas that art can communicate more powerfully than words alone. Reading Jeffery Hewitt’s (2017) article helped me see how Indigenous art is also a form of law - how a painted drum or beadwork can carry legal meaning, cultural memory, and resistance to colonial authority. Artists like Ruth Cuthand, who beads images of pathogens to confront the impact of colonization and unsafe water, or Beau Dick, who performed copper-cutting ceremonies to publicly shame colonial powers, remind me that art can create visibility where there has been erasure. What resonates most is the idea that Indigenous artists are not simply expressing, they are asserting. They are reclaiming narrative space, grounding it in land, memory, and community. As I reflect on this, I’m reminded that art is not a soft or secondary form of activism, it is essential. It invites us into difficult truths with honesty, beauty, and power, and it makes space for a more just and connected future.

Engaging with the stories of Indigenous resistance through art has deepened my understanding of how creativity becomes a vital tool for activism, truth-telling, and reclaiming sovereignty. The mural is a statement of cultural revitalization. During colonization, Coast Salish art was undervalued and artists were pressured to adopt Northern style aesthetics. In contrast, Jim's work is a part of broader resistance - reclaiming and celebrating a distinctly W̱SÁNEĆ visual language (Kennedy, 2021). As the NSU coordinator and commissioner of the art piece Peter Underwood stated, "Indigenous art pieces...act as a silent advocate for us. They take up space, sometimes tell a story, [and] show our values" (Kennedy, 2021). Sarah Jim's mural is more than decoration, it is a living affirmation of identity, land rights, and renewed cultural presence. It transforms an under recognized campus corridor into a space of welcome, storytelling, and resilience, grounding students in place, local history, and belonging. 

Kennedy, I. (2021, June 18). "New mural brings vibrant Coast Salish art to UVic's Student Union Building." Martlet: The University of Victoria's Independent Newspaper. Retrieved from https://martlet.ca/sarah-jim-mural-brings-coast-salish-art-to-sub-nsu/?

Indigeneity and Technology

Do you think social media allows for positive self-representation in youth?

I think that social media can be both empowering and complicated, especially for Indigenous youth. Marika Sila and Kairyn Potts opened my eyes to how powerful it can be when young Indigenous people take control of their own stories. It's not just about posting selfies or dances (though there's nothing wrong with that!) it's about reclaiming culture, language, and identity in a space where Indigenous people have often been erased or misrepresented. When I see creators using TikTok or Instagram to talk about their traditions, teach their languages, or even just laugh and be themselves I feel like that's a kind of resistance. It's healing. It reminds me that we don't always need to wait for institutions or other people to represent us - we can do it for ourselves. 

At the same time, I do wonder how real can self-respresentation be on platforms designed around likes, trends, and algorithms? The Pew Research Center found that most teens are using social media every day, sometimes constantly and that makes me think - are they all showing who they/we truly are? or who we think people want to see? There's also this presure to be 'palatable' or educational all the time, especially for Indigenous creators who carry the weight of breaking stereotypes while also just trying to live. I still have questions about how we can support youth in staying true to themselves online, especially when they might face racism or tokenism. How can social media be a tool for cultural connection without becoming another place where Indigenous identify gets filtered or simplified? I don't have the answers yet, but I know conversations like this matter. 

What other lingering questions do you have about self-representation, challenging, stereotypes, and assumptions?

1. How do Indigenous youth balance personal expression with the pressure to represent their entire culture online? Is it fair that so many young people feel responsible for educating others or “correcting” stereotypes just by being visible?

2. Are Indigenous creators truly free to express all parts of their identity, or are they expected to stay within certain cultural “boxes”? For example, are they only celebrated when sharing traditional content or trauma stories?

3. In what ways might algorithms shape or even limit how Indigenous identities are seen and understood? Do platforms prioritize certain types of content over others, and what does that mean for diverse voices?

4. How can we support youth in creating content that reflects their full, complex selves—not just what outsiders expect or want to see? Especially when there’s so much pressure to go viral or gain followers.

5. What’s the impact of seeing mostly “positive” or “polished” Indigenous influencers online? Are youth comparing themselves to idealized versions of culture or success, and does that affect their self-esteem?

6. How can schools and communities help youth challenge stereotypes in ways that feel empowering rather than exhausting? How do we move from performative inclusion to genuine support?