Indoctrinating the Masses: An Autoethnography of Settler Colonialism within Sport and Education

Introduction

This work, as a record and investigation into the (un)learning process, employs anti-colonial autoethnography to interrogate my experiences as a white settler living on and benefitting from Kitaowahsinnoon, the lands of the Niitsitapi (known to settlers as Southern Alberta). Autoethnography is a research methodology that centers the lived and embodied experiences of the author as an analytical approach to highlight the influences of society and culture (Holman Jones et al., 2015, as cited in Chawla, 2018). An anti-colonial autoethnography, then, uses the methodology as a means of interrogating the paradigmatic underpinnings (the epistemological, axiological, and ontological assumptions) that constitute the settler’s sense of “at-homeness in and under settler colonialism” (Laurendeau, 2023, n.p.). As a white, cis man writing an anti-colonial autoethnography, it is necessary that I address the issue of whiteness. Despite autoethnography’s original intent of holding space within academia for the lived experiences of the subjugated, “academic publishing within this tradition remains limited to the White majority group in [North America]” (Chawla, 2018, p.4). Indeed, at first it seems counterintuitive to use a methodology geared towards the subjugated to interrogate the experiences of the privileged and to center whiteness just as western academia has done for centuries. My goal, then, is to bring settler colonialism in its vast array of shapeshifting forms (Alfred & Corntassel, 2005) into focus through the storying and analysis of these experiences “as part of the present set of practices and institutions that reproduce settler colonialism and work towards settler futurity” (Laurendeau, 2023, n.p.). Working to bring these mechanisms into focus, provides the basis for (un)learning that might contribute to decolonization.

Central to this analysis, is the conceptualization of settler not as a static identity, but as a situated and process-based identity, with the individual constantly being made and remade into a settler through a variety of different processes (Battell Lowman & Barker, 2015; Chen, 2021). The following stories illustrate how the ever-present, and often hidden, mechanisms of settler colonialism contribute to the (re)making of the settler and a (my) sense of givenness. More specifically, these experiences all presented an opportunity for (un)learning and for the exercise of my agency as a settler and participant in the occupation of Indigenous lands. As a future educator, I am in a unique position vis-à-vis my settler responsibility of (un)learning. It is often quoted within education faculties that teachers must be dedicated to lifelong learning and the fostering of lifelong learners. On the surface this seems great, however here I offer my alternative: teachers must foster a lifelong desire for (un)learning and foster this attitude in our students.

Grade 7: Physical (Un)Education

PE began like any other day. The boys and girls went their separate way to change, rushing to avoid having to run laps around the gym. After slipping into my questionably smelling and self-supplied gym strip, I exited the changeroom and joined the circle of students stretching while we waited for our classmates. As we warmed up, I chatted with my best friend and complained about how, being in grade 7, we always got stuck with the small gym while the older kids got the much nicer gym on the other side of the school. Our teacher’s whistle rudely and abruptly interrupted our complaints, prodding us to get up and move outside to the field. The frigid southern Albertan fall air felt crisp as we walked to the soccer pitch. Gathered in a circle once again, our teacher began to introduce our activity for the day. Mr. Dickson was a tall, muscly, white guy, with a head so bald it shined: “Today, is all about Lacrosse. Now, if you’ve never played before, it’s kind of like hockey, but we play with a ball, and you pick it up with the net on these sticks,” he said dryly, as if asking me to stop paying attention. After another brief and dry remark about this being our national sport, we donned our pinnies and took our places on the pitch. What game is this again? Lacrosse? Never heard of it…

• When we think about the aim of the education system in Canada, most people jump to the well-known discourse of education as the great equalizer; however, it has become clear to me that this is simply a philanthropic front. Education institutions throughout North American history have been aimed at the elimination and assimilation of Indigenous peoples into the settler state (Shenandoah, 2024, p.37). This experience highlights how settler colonialism functions within the education system and “impinges upon the minds of all individuals within such a system, regardless of various cultural, racial, class, sex, gender and language differences” (p.44). My teacher’s decision to introduce the sport with absolutely no discussion of the cultural significance of lacrosse to Indigenous peoples was an attempt (whether intentional or not) to erase Indigenous culture. Moreover, the mention and positioning of this game as our national sport claimed it as our own and acted to instill and reinforce a sense of settler belonging. Being a primary locus of socialization, schools can heavily influence the development of this at-homeness of settler colonialism through processes of erasure. As Bodnaresko and Poitras Pratt (2023) note, the Canadian education system is based on a “biased curriculum that erased, deceived, and diminished the full truths of colonial impacts” (p.20). This is the education system that I was socialized within, that made and continues to remake me into a settler, and which instilled within me the logics of settler colonialism.

Paris 2024 Opening Ceremonies: LIVE

Sat on my aunt’s couch, I tried to find the right channel as the time came near for the opening ceremonies of the 2024 Summer Olympic games in Paris. My aunts, uncles, and two friends rushed to get settled in, eager to discover what spectacle the French had in store for the world. Well, for the first world that is, whatever that’s supposed to mean. And indeed, the French delivered a one-of-a-kind show that stretched across the city of Paris, with each team representing their nations catching a ride down the Seine. As the teams passed by, we tried to identify them from their flags, analyzing and commenting on their Olympic apparel. As a small boat with an even smaller team passed by, the graphics on the screen appeared identifying the Palestinian team. Something was wrong, I knew it, yet I was quiet, succumbing to the tension in discussions about the ongoing conflicts between Israel and Palestine.

• According to Chen (2021) settlers, as participants in the occupation of Indigenous lands, retain agency and are thus capable of resisting, challenging, and decrying settler colonialism (p.745). Why is it then, that I did not take this opportunity? To possess this agency and to be aware of settler colonialism, and to then not resist and challenge it, constitute complicity in its perpetuation. My learned complicity in settler colonialism was instilled throughout my childhood, as I was immersed in this multifaceted system of dominance and raised to be ignorant to it. In another forthcoming work, Chen (2024) highlights how “Israel has deployed sport […] as part of its larger strategy to obscure the suffering of the Palestinians under colonialism and occupation” (p.2). Meanwhile, the International Olympic Committee ignored calls to not allow Israel to participate in the Summer 2024 games in Paris, just as I too neglected to call out the injustices and atrocities being committed against Palestinians. In this neglect, the givenness to this conflict was reinforced, allowing the logics of settler colonialism to continue uncontested. Discomfort around discussions of Israel’s settler occupation of Palestine, emerged from my engrained acceptance of settler futurity and that settlers should also have a right to not just Palestine, but to these lands that I call home. To oppose Israel’s settler colonial regime, would be to oppose the very logics that established my comfort and privileged life on these lands.

FNMI Knowledge Integration: Check!

I didn’t feel ready, but what else could I do? I didn’t really have a choice. The words of my professor earlier that semester rang through my ears: My advice for your practicum, try to get your FNMI knowledge integration ‘checked off’ within the first week. My stomach floated up into my throat, my hands clammy with sweat. Taking a deep breath, I walked to the front of the classroom as my TA (Teacher Associate) handed the reigns over to me. By some miracle, I was able to get the kids lined up at the door and ready to head to a bigger space. We entered the art room, where I had them sit in a circle on the ground. Heeding the advice of my professor, my intention was to use a talking circle as an introduction to my lesson on the Boreal Forest. Shit… I forgot about the talking stick…I realized. Looking around the room, I grabbed a large paintbrush to use instead. After briefly explaining the rules of the circle, I began by sharing and then passing the brush on to the young boy on my left, who did likewise. This is going not too bad…I almost thought, before they started talking over each other as if that damned paintbrush meant nothing to them. The class spiraled into chaos.

• How do you integrate Indigenous ways of knowing, including traditions, beliefs, and values, into a curriculum that is foundationally Eurocentric? As pre-service teacher, this was a big challenge for me. Teachers in the province of Alberta are required by the Teaching Quality Standard to integrate First Nations, Metis and Inuit (FNMI) knowledge in their classrooms (Alberta Education, 2023). While it is all well and good to include Indigenous knowledges throughout your teaching, the use of this talking circle illustrated above became purely a performative act of reconciliation. Forced to fulfill the expectations of a biased curriculum that reeks of colonialist logics, teachers are caught in this paradoxical milieu between a call to meaningfully integrate Indigenous knowledges yet also teach and reinforce settler colonialism. Kulago (2019) eloquently articulates this struggle: “too often good intention by ‘teachers/colonizers’ falls short by once again starting from a position of colonial ways of being and Whiteness as normative and continuing to Other the agency and humanity of ‘students/colonized’” (p.249). In utilizing the talking circle, my concern for time and fulfillment of curriculum objectives as well as my own requirements for practicum led me to neglect properly preparing the class for the activity by situating the practice as an Indigenous tradition and explaining the beliefs and values that underpin it. What was originally intended to be an act of reconciliation, of Indigenous knowledge integration, rapidly turned into a performative act of reconciliation and the appropriation of this Indigenous practice.

The Return of Lacrosse

My cousin and I waited patiently on the hard metal bleachers of the soccer centre, our backs and bottoms sore after watching the match. Her partner’s team had just won their match against another team in their rec league. His mother and brother sat a row behind, making little conversation. As we waited, a wave of players wearing hockey-like gear poured onto the pitch. My cousin, having taken note of the out-of-placeness of their attire, asked me what sport they were playing. I told her it was lacrosse, as I tried to think of the last time I’d come across the sport in person. Oh right, Grade 7 – PE class. “What a stupid sport, so barbaric,” the mother’s voice pierced through the air behind me, with its thick Moroccan accent, “where’s it even from anyways?”. I squirmed in my seat, biting my tongue and rethinking my response, before simply informing her it’s Indigenous; and the modern version as she was witnessing it had been appropriated from Indigenous peoples.

• The word “barbaric” carries a lot of colonial baggage, reflecting how European settlers historically framed Indigenous cultures as uncivilized to justify dispossession and control. This game of lacrosse, sacred to many Indigenous communities across Turtle Island, has been colonized in a similar way as its inventors. Although modern lacrosse has been disconnected from Indigenous beliefs and values, its Indigeneity was used as a means to distinguish Canadian identity from British or American identities (Phillips, 2018). Paradoxically, through its appropriation and colonization, the sport was used as a nation building tool by the settler colonial state of Canada and instituted as our national sport to legitimize the state’s belonging on Indigenous lands. Despite being a small step and minor confrontation, my reaction constituted a refusal of settler colonialism and an internal negotiation of my own positionality. The weight of settler colonial violence embedded in the mother’s words was tangible and the unawareness was upsetting. My hesitation prior to responding, indicates further social dynamics at play: Should I confront this ignorance? Would I be dismissed? The discomfort speaks to the broader challenge and process of (un)learning and how this can and should be unbecoming.

Cause of Death: Settler Colonialism

I heard the doorbell ring throughout the home from outside on the front porch. I had just arrived to tutor a student for our usual weekly session. The now-familiar smell of Moroccan cuisine hung in the air as we greeted each other and got settled before diving into this week’s material. Beginning with out habitual check-in, we sat at the kitchen counter and chatted about how school was going this week. I felt proud to see this once quite shy young girl share with so much passion what she’d learned in social studies about the Métis people in Canada. Although, as she came to Louis Riel’s execution by the settler state of Canada, I began to shift in my seat, a tension building in my thoughts and chest. Her teacher seemed to have neglected to discuss the role of settler colonialism and the dispossession of the Red River colony, as well as the actual reason for Riel’s death. Without missing a beat, I jumped in and explained these aspects of the story, holding back my anger at her teacher for such a poor delivery of this important narrative.

• This experience highlights the sanitization of settler colonial violences within the education system, and how these atrocities are often downplayed. Rather than a direct outcome of settler colonialism, this teacher portrayed Louis Riel’s death as natural and inevitable, downplaying the political motivations of the then still-settling colonial state. This constitutes the outright erasure of the Métis struggle and the dispossession of the Red River colony, only perpetuating the myth of Canada as a peaceful, benevolent nation rather than a settler state built on Indigenous displacement and suppression. In order to disrupt the perpetuation of settler colonialism, a shift towards a critical settler consciousness is necessary. This consciousness acts “as a counterpart to promote listening to and learning from Indigenous perspectives, and to be self-reflective of the ways one may promote goals of settler colonialism” (Kulago, 2019, p.252). Continuing to teach Indigenous history from the perspective of white, Anglo-Saxon, protestants, only works to further marginalize the narratives and stories of the subjugated. Whether intentional or not, the way history is taught shapes how young people understand Canada’s past and present. The failure to discuss dispossession and resistance means that Métis and Indigenous struggles are often framed as unfortunate events rather than ongoing structures of oppression that still shape contemporary Canada. My frustration at the teacher reflects an awareness of how this erasure is not just an oversight but part of a larger pattern of historical distortion. By stepping in to correct the narrative, I took on the role of disrupting settler ignorance within the educational process. This moment highlighted my agency as a settler in my challenging of these attempted erasures.

(Re)Imagining the Future

I would like to imagine a world in which there is no colonizer or colonized. A world with reciprocity and relationality guiding our every action. Imagine a world free of the binaries of Euro-western thought, where no single truth is sought, and beauty is found in the in-between–where two perspectives and ideologies can exist in harmony. This type of world cannot be achieved without a conscious effort towards decolonization. What we say and do as teachers, coaches, leaders, mentors, and parents, matters. We are the primary source of socialization and enculturation for young people and have the potential to affect change.

With these stories and their accompanying analyses, I hope to have shed light on the process of (un)learning as a settler, and the nuanced and complicated nature of this process. (Un)learning is complicated by the dynamic nature of the settler, which is constantly being (re)made. As Laurendeau (2023) notes, this process is and should be unbecoming. It should be unsettling to “grapple with what it might mean, what it might look like, not to be settlers in the sense of not living in and under settler colonialism” (n.p.). Furthermore, this process is far from linear and demands constant (re)evaluation of one’s positionality, gut reactions, and the paradigmatic assumptions that underpin our thoughts, our decisions, and that guide our pedagogies.

These stories illuminate one example of being a settler striving to unsettle. We all have our own experiences with and within settler colonialism that we have allowed to either shape us into the settled and the colonized. We have all encountered settler colonial logics in our curriculums and taught them blindly. We can all likely relate to an attempt to integrate FNMI knowledge that perhaps didn’t really go as planned. With this work, I hope to encourage you, the educators and leaders of the future, to reflect on how your life and indeed your entire worldview is shaped by settler colonialism. This is not an easy task. You will be uncomfortable, and you will begin to rethink how you approach the seemingly mundane aspects of your life. Perhaps most challenging, is that this internal investigation, this questioning of the self and settler colonial logics, will inevitably lead you to question settler futurity and the givenness of our presence on these lands.

This is the challenge that I leave you with, dear reader: What does your (re)imagined future look like? What would it mean to you to not live in and under settler colonialism? Living in a system geared towards ensuring settler futurity, what does reconciliation or decolonization even mean? Most importantly, what does this mean for our teaching practice? How do we meaningfully decolonize our teaching and pedagogies to work towards a decolonized future? These are the conversations that we must have.

References

Alberta Education. (2023, April 3). Teaching quality standard. Ministry of Education, Government of Alberta. https://open.alberta.ca/publications/teaching-quality-standard

Alfred, T., & Corntassel, J. (2005). Being Indigenous: Resurgences against contemporary colonialism. Government and Opposition, 40(4): 597–614. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1477-7053.2005.00166.x

Battell Lowman, E., & Barker, A.J. (2015). Settler: Identity and colonialism in 21st century Canada. Winnipeg, Canada: Fernwood Publishing. https://books.google.com/bookshl=en&lr=&id=ZQB0EAAAQBAJ&oi=fnd&pg=PT6&ots=HlCh22O8D2&sig=cgjEOaRI9Jxumda5dZjHPmEVs_k

Bodnaresko, S., & Poitras Pratt, Y. (2023). Reconciliatory education: An extended infinity model. In Y. Poitras Pratt & S. Bodnaresko (Eds.), Truth and Reconciliation through education: Stories of decolonizing practices (pp. 19-27). Brush Education.

Chawla, D., & Atay, A. (2018). Introduction: Decolonizing autoethnography. Cultural Studies ↔ Critical Methodologies, 18(1): 3-8. https://doi-org.uleth.idm.oclc.org/10.1177/1532708617728955

Chen, C. (2021). (Un)Making the international student a settler of colour: A decolonising autoethnography. Qualitative Research in Sport, Exercise and Health, 13(5), 743–762. https://doi-org.uleth.idm.oclc.org/10.1080/2159676X.2020.1850513

Chen, C. (2024). Sport and transnational Indigenous solidarity from Turtle Island to Palestine? Examining Iroquois Nationals’ 2018 trip to Israel. Sociology of Sport Journal (published online ahead of print 2024). https://doi.org/10.1123/ssj.2024-0051

Laurendeau, J. (2023). Sport, physical activity, and anti-colonial autoethnography: Stories and ways of being (1st ed.). Routledge. https://doi-org.uleth.idm.oclc.org/10.4324/9781003130451

Phillips, Trevor. (Host). (2018, March 19). At the edge of Canada: Indigenous research [Audio podcast episode]. In UMFM 101.5: The Faculty of Sound.

Shenandoah, T. L. (2024). Terrain of settler colonialism in education. Journal of Thought, 58(1): 36-50. https://login.uleth.idm.oclc.org/login?url=https://www.proquest.com/scholarly-journals/terrain-settler-colonialism-education/docview/3095238635/se-2

Appendix A: Peer Review Reflection

The peer review process led me to reflect on how directly I discuss the “should haves” that my stories bring to light, as well as the depth of my analyses of moments of hesitation and discomfort. In my final copy, I tried to incorporate more direct analyses of why I experienced discomfort during these opportunities to address settler colonialism in action and what I could have done differently. Moreover, this process allowed me to refine my conclusion and introduction to clarify the purpose of this work both as a personal autoethnographic inquiry, but also as a means to encourage other educators to become aware of this givenness of settler colonialism. I believe this work presents a valuable reflection for all educators on what it means to be a lifelong learner, as it pushes us to go beyond just acquiring new knowledge and to reflect on and challenge our previously held knowledge. While at times ambiguous, my writing intentionally aims to truly foster meaningful reflection among educators just as this project did with me. I hope that my work, with the helpful feedback and suggestions from my peers, will guide my learning throughout life, and encourage other educators and leaders to reflect on their understanding of what it means to be a lifelong learner and to confront this system of settler colonialism in our teaching practices.