The GLQ journal Sexuality, Nationality, Indigeneity gathers
several articles that focus on indigenous queer perspectives and forms of
resistance to settler colonialism. The
introduction sets the tone for the collection and sends a great message. While the original cover art was rejected due
to being unsuitable for the publication, the editors expressed their resistance
to this decision in the introduction. By
doing this, they not only gave an example of resistance, they also raised the
point of what is deemed acceptable to those in positions of power.
Much can be said about each piece in this collection. However, one thing that was apparent
throughout was the writing styles of each of the authors. The voice chosen to write in and the
personalization of the subject matter was consistent across the articles. One standout example of this is in
“Puo’winu’l Pryers”:
“Basically, our oppression is about
being punished on a daily basis for not being able to conform to
colonial/christian expectations of gender and sexuality. We are pushed out of our families, ceremonies,
languages, histories. Maybe the thinking
goes that if we are ignored and made fun of that we’ll just go away, or at the
very least we’ll hate our true selves into non-exisitsnce. Well, we didn’t and we can’t. And though we are often scared, we are also
fierce in refusing to go anywhere except back to the Earth we came from. We continue to make love, transition our
genders, create new ceremonies with remembered ones. We create.
We love” (Cruz 2010).
This passage speaks to several points, yet uses a voice that
can reach people beyond those in academia.
As with several other articles, the words have feeling and a life of
their own. By writing in this style, the
authors breathe life into the theories they present. These are not merely just words and a way to
explain a point, they are words to tell a story and create a pathway to
resisting not only academic writing styles, but also resisting the indigenous
story to be told from the lens of the colonizer.
Another component that stands out so much in Cruz’s words is
that of being left out of stories. This
is another theme that emerged in other articles. Andrea Smith (2010) discusses this in her
article “Queer Theory and Native Studies”.
She argues how having a single scope leaves out much of the story, and
by how looking beyond this single scope is a way to disrupt settler
colonialism. This opposition is further
explored in “Doubleweaving Two-Spirit Critiques” by Qwo-Li Driskill
(2010). Through this article Driskill
describes colonization as an ongoing occurrence indigenous people are actively
resisting. They further explain that
when Native and queer studies come together, they create an interwoven
connection of concepts that are much more complex than simply an
intersectionality. They exist
separately, yet within each other.
Sharon Holland (2010) describes how queer studies can change
the direction of Native studies in the afterword. The joining of the two is a way to create a
stronger resistance to colonial power as well as challenge heteronormativity
and “homonationalism”. By doing this,
the authors of the articles are showing that these subjects have a place in
academia and a voice in the critiques.
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