How to set boundaries when conversations of colonisation arise
Something I've always known about myself is when I am confronted with a situation of injustice, it evokes an emotional response in me. It can be as simple as watching a movie (kudos to movie directors!), a public event like the Black Lives Matter movement or a situation closer to me personally. And the closer to me it is, the harder I feel all the feels.
ONE THAT HAS OFTEN EVOKED STRONG EMOTIONS, IS DISCUSSIONS AROUND COLONISATION.
I remember a particular experience where I was involved in a conversation about the future direction of a māori kaupapa, a conversation involving māori and pākeha perspectives. I remember feeling this niggle inside of me. It was a frowning feeling, but the frowning was happening on the inside. I couldn’t put my finger on it at the time, but I knew there was something there.
Hours after, I was still stirring on this conversation, but I wasn’t particularly sure why. Confused and a little irritated, I went to bed and slept on the thought.
The next day I remember reaching out to a friend, and downloading some of the raw, unedited thoughts that were going through my head. I wasn’t quite making sense of them, but I knew if I could get the words out, I might be able to pull them into some form of clarity.
My friend reflected back to me that discomfort I had been feeling, and I realised what it was.
It was an impact of colonisation.
Again.
AND THAT FROWNING NIGGLE INSIDE OF ME HAD TURNED INTO HURT. HURT THAT MĀORI AREN’T BY NATURE, ALWAYS GIVEN THE AUTONOMY TO LEAD WHAT SHOULD BE OURS TO LEAD. HURT THAT A MĀORI KAUPAPA HAS TO BE CONSIDERATE OF THE OPINIONS OF NON-MĀORI.
I also felt shame. Shame that I hadn’t worked this out in my mind at the time, to give this perspective in this discussion. Shame that it isn’t instantaneous for me to recognise the effects of colonisation.
Because it’s been so well embedded right?
When indigenous people are told for decades, generation after generation, that our voices are not worthy of being heard, and our rights are not equal to those of non-indigenous, simply saying we’re now allowed to sit at the table doesn't make us feel we are invited to, or welcome to sit at the table.
When justifications are made that pākeha have to lead kaupapa because māori aren’t representing ourselves, do you stop to consider just why that might be?
Along the way we did represent ourselves. And we were punished. Disadvantaged. Hurt. So we just stopped engaging in a system that didn’t want us.
We hear again and again from our own people now, that if we’re not sitting at the table, we’re on the menu. And it’s so true. We are having to learn to engage in a world despite the past hurt, the past shame, and the past experiences.
So how do we do that, knowing that experiences might arise where we feel emotionally responsive to conversations that represent colonisation?
WE LEARN TO USE OUR BOUNDARIES. THIS IS HOW I CHOOSE TO NAVIGATE THIS SPACE, IN ORDER TO KEEP MYSELF SAFE, TO KEEP OTHER MĀORI SAFE, AND TO UPHOLD WHAT I BELIEVE TO BE TIKA AND PONO.
Some questions you might like to ask yourself when setting those boundaries are:
Am I the only indigenous/māori person in this space? For me personally, it is always important to not be the only one - to not be seen as the “representation”, but rather one of many voices and different perspectives;
Is the environment genuinely set up for engaging with indigenous/māori? Will I be heard?
Is our tikanga present and respected? If I were not present, would this table continue to uphold these?
Is this a space where indigenous/māori can lead the kōrero on what belongs to them?
I’d love to know what other questions you think of, that might support your setting boundaries when navigating potentially triggering conversations. Drop them in below x