Connected: Indigenous Spirituality as Resistance in the Classroom more

ERIC J. RITSKES 2. CONNECTED: INDIGENOUS SPIRITUALITY AS RESISTANCE IN THE CLASSROOM INTRODUCTION An ever increasing body of work is emerging within the pedagogical arena that explores the realm of spirituality and its implications within a classroom (Tisdell and Tolliver, 2006; Groen, 2008), in curriculum (Fraser, 2004), for student development (Love, 2001; Kessler, 1999; Hindman, 2002), or within the academy as a whole (Shahjahan, 2006; Rendon, 2000). The emergence of this body of work stems from what is perceived as an ever widening chasm that separates Western education from the “whole person”, suppressing and silencing aspects of student life that are important in the quest for a holistic education experience. This chapter examines the definitions of spirituality that are emerging out of this Western educational discourse and contends that the current definitions undermine the collective power of spirituality by centering the individual as the sole locus of spiritual determination in a sort of spiritual solipsism. The current discourse of spirituality has been born out of resistance to organized religion and its coercive, imperialistic endeavors but, in rejecting the organized structures of religion, spirituality has engaged in the other extreme, namely Western liberalism and its dogmatic emphasis on individual rights – throwing any notion of collective spirituality out with the proverbial bath water. I will argue that any definition of spirituality needs to acknowledge the value of connection, as conceived in indigenous spirituality, as vital and inherent to its being: a connection to all aspects of the self, connection to one’s community, connection to history, and connection to a higher power or larger framework. It is through this connectivity that spiritual power is constructed and spiritual resistance is empowered and without it, spirituality falls prey to individualism and relativism. Finally, I will attempt to elucidate some of the implications that such a collaborative spirituality might have on the classroom and the academy. The impetus for spirituality to be brought into the classroom is based on a desire for change to how we educate, a desire to resist the current patterns of thinking and, according to Kessler (1999), a desire for connection. I come to this topic from a position of spiritual and mental struggle. Not only do I struggle to locate myself within the discussion of resistance and spirituality but I also struggle with the possibility of being able to locate myself at all. I recognize and am aware of my full participation within the discourses of Western domination that I am implicated in through my skin color (white), my heritage (European), my religion (Christian), my gender (male) and my sexuality (heterosexual). I do not N. Wane et al. (eds.), Spirituality, Education & Society, 15–36. © 2011 Sense Publishers. All rights reserved. ERIC RITSKES posit these influences as something apart from who I am, in some sort of nebulous “out there” (Howard, 2006), but recognize that I come from a position of illegitimate privilege and who I am is embedded in domination. While not overlooking the influence that these locations have on my work, I also understand the difficulty of discovering how they influence my work (though undoubtedly they do) as well as the challenge in locating what I have left unsaid; what remains hidden is undoubtedly the most insidious. While I cannot escape these locations, my work hopefully resists against these discourses from within them; as Dei & Asgharzadeh (2001) clearly state: it is not possible to claim impartiality or indifference and I do not choose to do so. As Budd Hall (2000) states in his preface to Indigenous Knowledges in Global Contexts, “I can’t change my race or gender, but I am able to shape my approach to my work” (p. xiv). My move or shaping, then, is one of resistance. This resistance comes not in the form of the post-colonial which not only falsely demarcates periods of oppression, but as Dei (2000) also argues, post-colonial discourses disturbingly ignore the histories and lived realities of indigenous peoples. So instead it is an anti-colonial resistance that I choose to mobilize, one that seeks to challenge and ultimately bring down colonial relationships within society through epistemologies of the colonized. THEORETICAL FRAMEWORK The anti-colonial framework that I apply to this chapter seeks to both affirm indigenous ways of knowing while at the same time interrogating the intersections of power and knowledge that are inherently imbedded in any type of knowledge production. This framework also recognizes that knowledge does not reside in one site or location but is produced as a result of multiple, localized lived realities and experiences. This position avoids succumbing to the post-modern tendency to oversubjectify individual voices or experiences and rather chooses to recognize the value of individual experience within the framework of collective histories, as Dei (2005) states: to see unity in diversity. Knowledge, then, is bound up not only in the individual but also in the collective and communal identities, in recognizance of the multitude of flows and cycles that occur in knowledge production. Not only does this framework challenge how knowledge is created but also how totalizing theories are used to simplify complex realities, choosing instead to focus on the fluidity and flexibility of a discursive framework (Dei & Asgharzadeh, 2001). I theorize colonial here, not strictly in its historical context nor as alien and foreign, but more broadly as discourses and forces of domination, imposition and exploitation. This approach does not seek to devalue, homogenize, or misrepresent the unique qualities of the historical representations of colonialism that were imposed on indigenous groups by Western nations but rather argues for more nuanced approaches and interrogations of how different forms of colonial power have been enacted in different ways, in different locations, in different times, in different spaces, and how these might work in conversation with each other. There is a caution here in creating an ‘umbrella’ term that veils the intricacies of its many members but, in recognizing this danger, there must be the move away from 16 INDIGENOUS SPIRITUALITY AS RESISTANCE homogenizing the issues and towards giving each colonized body a voice and many allies to raise their voice in unison with. Not only this, but in eschewing false dichotomies, an anti-colonial approach does not seek to set up the colonizer as ‘other’, aware of the dangers in setting up such dichotomies and recognizing the spectrum and complexities inherent in domination. In light of these complexities, resistance is viewed in localized ways and as embedded within daily actions and choices, with the understanding that “colonizing practices can be unending and deeply embedded in everyday relations” (Dei, 2005, p. 273). An anti-colonial framework seeks to explore these various manifestations of colonization to uncover similarities and differences that might be of value in the resistance of and the dismantling of colonial powers. This approach also seeks links and alliances between those who resist domination in different forms (gender, class, race, disability, etc.) in an effort to explore how lived realities are shaped by multiple forms of power relationships. It rejects any singular approach to anti-oppression and supports solidarity in the struggle against the multiplicity of dominations. In seeking to affirm indigenous knowledges, of vital importance is to theorize a ‘working definition’. In constructing a ‘working definition’, an anti-colonial framework recognizes the fluidity and ever-changing nature of knowledge while challenging the Western discourses that seek to fix, categorize, contain and reify; as Battiste (2000) argues, “The quest for universal definitions ignores the diversity of the people of the earth and their views of themselves” (pp. 36-37). An anticolonial framework also recognizes that “at each arrival at a definition, we begin a new analysis, a new departure, a new interrogation of meaning, new contradictions” (Davies, 1994, p. 5). This process of arrival/departure, in relation to indigenous knowledges, resists being defined by others which has too often been the case as Western academies and discourses have tried to contain and define indigenous knowledges and bodies in order to dominate and control them; it allows indigenous people to define for themselves what ‘indigenous’ means. In defining indigenous knowledges, too often the tendency has been to locate it solely in the past and to fall prey to what Macedo (1999) calls a “blind romanticism”. Locating indigenous knowledges in the past only serves to reify and enclose, to position indigenous knowledges as out of sync with ‘modern’ times, as a relic to be discarded for something better. Instead, I seek to define indigenous knowledges along the lines of Dei, Hall and Rosenberg (2000) who not only associate indigenous knowledges with the long-term occupancy of a certain place but define it as, “The sum of the experience and knowledge of a given social group [which] forms the basis of decision making in the face of challenges both familiar and unfamiliar” (p. 6). Indigenous knowledges are dynamic rather than static, constantly being created and re-created in the face of new obstacles, experiences and locations, yet never losing what makes it ‘indigenous’. Indigenous knowledges are created in relation to a specific location or place but, just as colonialism uprooted indigenous peoples it also uprooted their knowledges which are constantly adapting, creating, re-creating and persisting (Purcell, 1998). In falling prey to a blind romanticism or static definitions rooted solely in past or place, not only are indigenous knowledges reified but a false dichotomy is imposed in which 17 ERIC RITSKES indigenous knowledges are posited in direct opposition to Western knowledge. As Dei (2000) states, indigenous knowledges do not sit in pristine fashion outside of other knowledges; an anti-colonial framework recognizes the collaborative and cumulative processes involved in knowledge production and calls for a more nuanced interrogation of how knowledges interact with each other in a constant process of creation and re-creation. Indigenous knowledges also seek to work with the power of diversity. The term ‘indigenous’ encompasses a wide array of knowledges, cultures, peoples, and locations (Wane, 2008). Roberts (1998) argues that indigenous knowledges develop through an in-depth understanding of relationships to a specific place and Dei (2000) states that indigenous knowledges are operationalized differently depending on history, environment and context. It is in the fluidity and openness of indigenous knowledges where all of these localized knowledges find their meeting point. There is recognition of multiple origins of knowledge and the multiplicity of ways that knowledge is operationalized, as well as an understanding of how knowledge is much like a river with many tributaries, ever expanding and overflowing its boundaries, constantly charting new courses and paths. This is not to so easily dismiss the realization that differences are prone to be homogenized within such an overarching concept as indigenous knowledges but rather to call for close interrogations and appreciations of diversity which will recognize that, even within such a wide scope there are common threads to be found which bring diverse peoples together under the banner of ‘indigenous’. An anti-colonial framework also recognizes that schooling is not innocent and that it has historically played an important role in colonizing indigenous groups; in producing and re-producing inequality along the lines of gender, race, culture, class, religion, and language; and in “miseducation”, as Renato Constantino sees it: We see our present with as little understanding as we view our past because aspects of the past which could illuminate the present have been concealed from us. This concealment has been effected by a systematic process of miseducation characterized by a thoroughgoing inculcation of colonial values and attitudes. (qtd. in Macedo, 1999, p. xv) Institutes of education, sanctioned by the state, serve to further the agendas of the state and social structures of exploitation (Dei & Asgharzadeh, 2001). This chapter recognizes that education has been used to silence and subsume the voices and knowledges of indigenous people, divorcing them from their histories; still it chooses to view education as a key site of resistance, giving indigenous peoples agency and power to resist even within systems of domination. Finally, anti-colonial discourse is a discursive framework, a dialogue. It is a process rather than an arrival. This is especially apparent as I struggle to attenuate my position in this chapter; I am acutely aware of how little I know about what I am doing and I echo Hanohano (1999) in stating, “[I am] begging your compassion as I stumble on – for I don’t know anything” (p. 210). As Dei (2000) argues, learning is not always about acquiring new knowledge but working with the power 18 INDIGENOUS SPIRITUALITY AS RESISTANCE of not knowing, of revealing the knowledge that has always been within you but obscured; hopefully this chapter works towards bringing this type of personal and public revelation. Spirituality and the anti-colonial framework are also closely tied to humility and I approach this project with the highest level of regard for those who have ‘gone before’ and have struggled with the topic before me, as well as holding the humble hope that I can add to the discussion. This anti-colonial framework is particularly important to this chapter, not only in its focus on epistemologies of the colonized but also in its understanding of how all aspects of knowledge, from literature to politics to spirituality, come together to create social understanding (Dei & Asgharzadeh, 2001). An anti-colonial framework recognizes the power in struggle and resistance, as well as in celebrating the spiritual aspects of life through art, literature and oral traditions, as a way to move beyond a preoccupation with victimization as well as a way to incorporate the language of hope. Finally, it recognizes the power of the ‘indigenous’ in creating and sustaining resistance to dominant forms, recognizing the power of working with fluid and ever adapting definitions and realities. DEFINING SPIRITUALITY Defining Spirituality through Individualism Equally important to this project is how we are to define spirituality. Prior to the last century, Western spirituality was not conceived of outside of religion, originating out of Christian tradition and scriptures, specifically from the idea of the Holy Spirit (Schneiders, 2003). Even today, the issue of how to conceptualize or define spirituality as a distinct concept apart from religious frameworks seems to be primarily based in ‘first-world’, Western locations. What has caused this shift towards conceiving of spirituality outside of religion? In line with Schneiders’ (2003) argument, I argue that spirituality has been separated from religion as a response to perceived problems with religion; its exclusivity, its rigid ideology, and clerical systems are all at odds with a (post)modern society’s image of self and society. Yet, despite this perceived failure of religion, within the self there is a desire to find a meaningful life path which consequently leads to a desire to continue the search for meaning outside of the frameworks of religion. This extraction of spirituality from religion has been aided by society’s move to what was considered rational, secular, and scientific thought, as well as a move towards the explicit separation of church and state – a separation of private matters from the public sphere. In rejecting everything religion had to offer, the locus of Western spirituality moved from the congregational to the individual, from the public realm to the private realm. This conceptualization of spirituality drew heavily from spiritual traditions in other parts of the world, appropriating what was useful in a sort of religious consumerism (York, 2001). What was taken was divorced from its contexts and used to confirm Western desires. These forms of spirituality were transplanted into Western society as exotic and different, being positioned as a counter-discourse to the hegemonic influence of religion, as an alternative way of 19 ERIC RITSKES reaching personal fulfillment. Spirituality could be the positive force to counter the ills of religion. This polarization of spirituality and religion is evident in society as a whole and, as a microcosm, in schooling and the academy. There has been an explicit dichotomization that posits spirituality as acceptable, personal, liberating, and as a mature entity while religion is demonized as institutional, constraining and childish (Johnson, Kristeller, and Sheets, 2004). Spirituality was born as a counterdiscourse or resistance to the hegemonic, restrictive reigns of religion but, in the process, it created its own regimes of truth, its own definitions, and its own dominant discourse (Foucault, 1978; Estanek, 2006) which not only appropriated indigenous traditions into a ‘spiritual stew’ but, in defining itself through individualism, silenced the voices of communities and other collective groups. Any notion of collective spirituality was silenced through a discourse of individualism. The emergence of spirituality as its own discourse has provoked a large body of work that has struggled to define exactly what spirituality is: as Palmer (2003) states, “Spirituality is an elusive word with a variety of definitions – some compelling, some wifty, some downright dangerous” (p. 377). Most definitions are understandably broad and abstract as they try to accommodate all varieties of spirituality, attempting to negotiate the connections between religion and spiritualityand yet facilitate a divergence. The common thread in these attempts is a focus on the individual as a locus for ‘authentic’ spirituality. By placing the locus of spirituality in the individual there is room to accommodate a multiplicity of spiritualities, little need to come up with a clear definition of what spirituality entails, and also a clear delineation from the congregationalism of religion. Bennett (2003) states that spirituality is the organizing story or force of one’s life, Hindman (2002) takes the approach that spirituality is who we really are inside, which agrees with Chittister (1990) who argues that spirituality is what we are and how we act. These definitions emphasize the individual and are in line with many of the definitions emanating from recent research in spirituality (Rose, 2001; Love, Bock, Jannarone, and Richardson, 2005; Palmer, 2003). To find an ‘authentic’ spirituality one must be able to discover the ‘authentic’ self – the approach and direction is inward. Personal spirituality is independent of other people and their spiritualities; the histories, forces and discourses at work around the individual; and independent of any realm outside of the core self. The primary concern is with moving inward. This affirmation of individualism is in line with Western society’s move toward secularization and liberalism. York (2001) defines secularization as a society-wide decline of interest in organized religious traditions. As spirituality is freed from the rules of religion it becomes a fluid and disparate entity. For Western society this has led to an upswing in spirituality, as seen in the New Age movement which views the individual alone as the “locus for selectivity and determination of belief” (York, 2001, p. 366). Secularization and spirituality are in this way tied together in promoting individualism in the model of Western liberalism. York (2001) goes on to argue that this Western New Age spiritualism is an outgrowth of Western capitalism (the ‘religious consumer supermarket’) and falls into the same traps as Western liberalism in denying difference through individualism in effort to further 20 INDIGENOUS SPIRITUALITY AS RESISTANCE hegemonic culture. It was this culture of consumerism and individualism that has led writers to explore spirituality as a cure or alternative in the first place, but instead of escaping the Western hegemonic discourse they are merely reproducing it within this new discourse of spirituality. This self-dependence and individualism are not completely insular in that they ignore any type of relationship but, rather, in that they place all relationships as a secondary effect. It is only after a discovery of the authentic self that it is possible to look outward to relationships in other realms; spirituality is “how I live at the center of who I am. I live at a center with an image of who I am, how I am embodied and in touch with the concrete …. My spirituality is the way I live at my center … [italics mine]” (Johnson, 1983, p. 252). This spirituality has self at the center of the formation and not until the self is uncovered can the individual understand their relationships with the world around them. Schneiders (2003) argues that this inward-outward thrust “implicitly defines spirituality as a private pursuit for personal gain, even if that gain is socially committed” (p. 177). To put it simply – spirituality as it is conceived here is limited by self; as Rendon (2000) states, “I can make a difference for others only if I make a difference for me” (p. 11). As a private gain it is reproducing Western liberalism, secularism, and capitalism within the discourse of spirituality. The primacy of ‘me’ is connected to the search for an ‘authentic self’ or, as Robinson (2004) calls it a “solid me” (p. 108). As alluring as it is to think that there is something pure and discoverable within all of us, this argument ignores the always ongoing construction and fluidity of self. There seem to me to be three areas that need to be troubled in this search for the ‘authentic self’. First, the search for authenticity promotes a spiritual hierarchy of “more authentic” and “less authentic” which is inherently fragmentary and marginalizing rather than unitary. Those who have ‘attained’ a certain level of authenticity can claim priority in spiritual discussion and the voices of those who are ‘not spiritual enough’ are silenced. Second, in the search for what is pure and innocent within us, the multiplicity of forces and discourses that interact with us and through us are ignored, especially in the ways that they might shape our journey or even our “authentic self”. Third, in imagining such an authentic core, the self and spirituality are seen as static, unchanging, and contained when, as I will argue later, this is exactly the opposite of how we need to view spirituality. As our life experiences, perceptions, feelings, and understandings of spirituality change, are we moving away from our authentic spiritual core or is it rather a move towards spirituality as a connected, fluid, uncontained identity? Defining Spirituality through Connectedness My intended goal with this chapter is not to negate the self but to remove it from the center of the grid. Spirituality needs to be viewed as a connected experience where the individual is one node in the web of existence or, perhaps to use an indigenous American image, merely one point in the Circle of Life. Spirituality cannot be summed up, as Tisdell and Tolliver (2006) state, as “an individual’s journey to wholeness” (p. 38). There has to be a recognition that everything is 21 ERIC RITSKES connected, that each individual is connected to others in their communities, connected to the past and those who have gone before, connected to frameworks or entities larger than themselves, and connected to the future through their actions and relationships in the present. These relationships do not develop out of the self but are part and parcel of a reciprocal relationship with the individual; we cannot conceive of our spirituality without looking at relationships and how they mould us. Kinchloe (2006) states, “Knowledge production and the construction of selfhood cannot take place outside of this intricate web of relationships” (p. 188). It is not an inward movement that should be primary to spirituality but an opening of the self to accept and embrace the forces and relationships at work all around us. At the same time, this chapter is not trying to set up another dichotomy in self/other but is interested in viewing both as interlocked or interwoven with each other. This sense of connectedness is vital to ideas of indigenous knowledges and spirituality and I argue, that in promoting this connectedness, this is one way that indigenous knowledges and spirituality can be used as a methodology of resistance in the academy. Mazama (2002) argues that a central tenant of indigenous spirituality is that everything in life and death (humans, plants, objects, ancestors, events) is imbued with a common essence that binds us all together. Hanohano (1999) states that every aspect of indigenous life is saturated with the spiritual and the purpose of life is simply to be. Dei (2002b) understands indigenous spirituality in terms of collective empowerment, the ability to relate to others without preconceived motives, and listening to the self and world rather than the “hegemony of me”. Dei (2002b) goes on to say that, “The individual develops a spirituality through the engagement of society, culture and nature interrelations” (p. 5) and that the individual only makes sense within the context of community (Dei, 1993). Kinchloe (2006) argues that “A human being simply can’t exist outside the inscription of community with its processes of relationship, differentiation, interaction, and subjectivity” (p. 192). In this light, spirituality is not a journey into the self to find an authentic core but rather an unveiling of the self to recognize the multiplicity of relationships that we interact with and that interact through us. It is a breaking down of the ‘hegemony of me’ and the rebuilding of the self through relationships. Again, I feel the need to reiterate that indigenous spirituality does not seek to obscure or destroy the self but rather seeks to destroy the self/other dichotomy in which it is possible to conceive of the self as autonomous and separate from the larger collective (Dei, 2002b). I do not wish to set up the binary of dependence/independence but rather to look in a more nuanced way at what might be called mutual inter-dependence; a reciprocal spiritual relationship whereby, through relations we connect and shape others and, at the same time, are re-shaped and impacted by others. This is a fluid spirituality that progresses, grows, is aware and is constantly struggling to resist and break free from the relations that seek to control or dominate it. It resists the urge to place self at the center. In a mutual inter-dependence, the self cannot be negated or expunged but only exists in the context of connections. 22 INDIGENOUS SPIRITUALITY AS RESISTANCE HOW ARE WE CONNECTED? The connections that I am talking about in regards to spirituality can be focused broadly around four main categories: connections to communities, connections to history and the past, connections to larger frameworks, entities or mysteries, and connections to one’s whole self. I purposefully use the plural form of connection to note the multiplicity of relations that can spring out of infinite lived realities and the multiplicity of connections that we all have in varying forms. These categories, upon closer interrogation, are neither clearly delineated nor definitive, each bleeds into the others and outside of these borders. Yet, by looking at these connections separately, hopefully it is of at least some heuristic value. Connections to People and Communities To be connected to the people around you means to be connected through shared language, shared location, shared experiences, shared culture, or shared environment. The idea of a shared language is central to ideas of spirituality as language is more than simple communication and the imposition of foreign languages have been used to divorce people from communities, culture and spiritual connections. Chrisjohn, Young and Maraun (1997) argue that it is through language that peoples “come to know, represent, name, and act upon the world” (p. 338). Almeida (1998) sees language as the thread between generations through the knowledge passed down by the elders. The imposition of foreign languages has divorced people from their connections and given them a new, colonial framework to work within (Wane, 2008). In terms of spiritual connections, Simpson (2004) argues that by translating traditional narratives into colonial languages, knowledge and people are separated from the spirituality, its source and meaning. Language is the thread that connects spirituality to everyday lived realities. The indigenous concept of embodied, active learning is critical to this connection as well, as people interact in physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual ways with one another – often all at the same time. This is evidenced in the daily interactions of people in communities through actions such as healing rituals that are themselves imbued with meaning, knowledges, and spiritual connections (Wane, 2008). These connections are not always explicit as they might be in a healing ceremony and often don’t need to be as the fluidity of meaning is implicitly recognized by the community. It is the community, through its practical realities, rituals and ceremonies that direct and illuminate the pathways into the inner self and into a greater understanding of mystery and sacred knowing (Ermine, 1995). Spirituality in this sense cannot be extracted from the lived realities of the people and communities; Portman and Garret (2006) describe how in many indigenous languages there is not even a word for spirituality or religion as something separable from existence. It is these lived realities of communities that impact and shape who we are as spiritual beings. In the spiritual connection to communities there is also a spiritual interaction and connection to place and environments. Almeida (1998) argues that it is the land that is the physical core that connects communities and if it is lost, so too are 23 ERIC RITSKES the languages, knowledges, and spiritualities. Hanohano (1999) describes how specific locations or sites are imbued with spiritual essence and power; Dei’s (1992) study views land as the bridge between the living and the dead for indigenous cultures; Dei (2002a) describes how land transcends into the metaphysical realm through the giving of life, sustenance, and spiritual strength; Holmes (2000) states that the Earth is the voice and humans the listeners, Ilmi (2010) explains how land can be sacred and spiritually cleansing; and Portman and Garret (2006) look at how a harmonious relationship with nature is essential for being a whole spiritual self. This connection to the land resists Western scientific discourses that conceptualize the land and people as separate entities, choosing instead to see humans as one link in the vast chain of nature, intimately connected to earth, sky, water, animals, and plants (Wangoola, 2000). The land is much like family and evokes a language of love that resists Western discourses that are tied to the land, discourses of economy and exploitation (McIsaac, 2000). Not only this, but it resists universalizing and reductionist Western scientific discourses that seek to divide, measure, and control the earth, in the process not only fragmenting the earth into various ‘extractable resources’ but also fragmenting knowledge and space (Ermine, 1995; Purcell, 1998). The intention here is not to ignore some of the inherent problems in theorizing community as a singular, homogenous entity. Daniels (2009) argues convincingly how community has been constructed as a male dominated space through memory and ‘his-story’, ignoring and omitting the contributions and voices of women. This gendering of memory is a result of the colonial frameworks that created the public space and, consequently, the history created in them, as a male space (Oyewumi, 1997). Also, Gujit and Shah (1999) show how the term ‘community’ has been used as a ‘Trojan horse’ by the western development agenda to cloak and validate Western development aims, all the while ignoring the complexities and diversity that are inherent in any community. Not only this but to view community as a static, enclosed entity only enforces the insider/outsider binary, making the community a type of elitist club whose members hold the key to an essentialized ‘community’ knowledge. The community is fluid and often disparate as people move in and out and choose to play greater or lesser roles. To envision boundaries of a community, especially in today’s globalized space where communities and connections can span the globe, is an impossible task. Fluidity and difference is often seen as disruptive and threatening, silenced in the name of cooperation but, as Dei (2005) argues, we need to recognize that there is strength in the diversity of communities. This is not to advocate for the opposite extreme of complete fragmentation and attenuation of differences but to advocate for the explicit recognition of communities as open, diverse spaces in need of meaningful ways of understanding the complex structures of relationships. Connections to History and the Past Gearon (2001) clearly articulates that spirituality cannot be seen in ahistorical terms. Two key elements of this connection in regards to indigenous spirituality 24 INDIGENOUS SPIRITUALITY AS RESISTANCE are: connection to the elders who are the “repositories of knowledge from time immemorial” (Hanohano, 1999), as well as connection to the ancestors that have gone before. This connection to history is an important one as it actively participates in the decolonizing project. Fanon (1963) examines how colonization sought to distort and misrepresent the past, divorcing people from their histories. Linda Smith (1999) argues that a vital part of the decolonization process is “about recovering our own stories of the past” (p. 39). This spiritual connection to the past through elders and ancestors is a reconnection to, or reclamation of, hidden histories and obscured memories. I am not trying to position a sort of authentic or romanticized ‘past’ that is the basis for validity but positioning the role of history along the lines of Lattas (1993) when he states that, the past needs to be recreated and viewed “as a way of formulating an uncolonized space to inhabit” (p. 254). Longwood, Muesse and Schipper (2004) recognize the use of older mentors in spiritual or religious development but the indigenous connection to elders is based on more than a student/mentor relationship. Holmes (2000) looks at how land was given voice through the elders, blood memory was kept alive, and heart knowledge was expressed; all of these coming together to form an ancestry of experience. It is this lived experience of those who have gone before which shapes our spiritual self, as Holmes (2000) explains: it is through the elders that knowledge lodges in the heart. Hanohano (1999) calls the elders repositories of knowledge from time immemorial, Kirkness (2002) speaks of giving voice to the ancestors through the knowledge of the elders, and Garrett (1996) sees elders as parent, teacher, community leader, and spiritual guide. The elders then are important mediators in spiritual connections and, subsequently, in knowledge production; as Holmes (2000) describes in regards to indigenous Hawaiian peoples, knowledge is a gift from a higher power which is then revealed and contextualized through relationships. Not only is there a connection to the elders but to those in the community that have passed on. Dei (1993) and Mazama (2002) examine how indigenous African cultures view life and death as inherently linked and how the ancestors’ role in the community is to guide and protect the living. Mayuzumi (2006) looks at how connection to the ancestors through the Japanese tea ceremony is how Japanese women can connect with history and create and expand one’s spiritual space. Being able to connect to common ancestors is also critical in symbolizing the social unity of a community (Dei, 1993). This connection speaks to how the present cannot be theorized without another dimension; it is never as simple as what you can see. This connection is also vital in the resistance to Western ideas of time and boundaries; those who have passed on slip in and out of the present, the past experience actively informing the knowledge production of the present. Spirituality is not only mutually inter-dependent with events in the present but also with history as symbolized by the lived experiences of the elders and ancestors. Connections to Larger Frameworks, Entities or Mysteries Tisdell (2003), in part two of her seven part definition of spirituality, talks about connectedness to the “Life Force, God, higher power, higher self, cosmic energy, 25 ERIC RITSKES Buddha nature, or Great Spirit” (p. 28) but, in the indigenous understanding, this connection goes deeper than simply recognizing a higher power. It is recognition that beyond the physical, knowable world is something larger than the conceptual ordering of community and individuals, a world too full to talk about. This connection highlights an awareness of an alternative framework that exists beyond the tangible and scientific. Portman and Garrett (2006) show how Native American peoples believe that all things are alive and have spiritual energy; everything has a connection to this alternative framework which exists in balance with the physical. This connection to higher mysteries speaks through silence, subverts traditional modes of verification, can be felt through intuition, dreams or visions, and is experiential. It is unquantifiable and ever-changing; the Great Mystery. This connection is often understood and expressed through creative expression, through songs and chants, proverbs and storytelling, rituals and ceremonies, again pointing to the value of indigenous languages in these forms. Wane (2005) states that rituals take us beyond our social locations and positioning to allow us to interconnect at a higher level, as well as allowing us to move beyond the part of self that wants to restrict possibilities. Portman and Garrett (2006) explain that Native American traditional ceremonies are designed to keep the self in good relations with those around them and with a higher power. Oral forms of communication, such as singing, poetry and storytelling, communicate a connection to something higher, another dimension that is not easily explained in the words themselves and often the only way of expressing what is ‘unsayable’. The spiritual connection is emphasized through the personal connections and context of these oral events and narratives, as Lakota chief Harold Dean Salway said, “You have a tendency to lose some of the spirituality when it’s down in black and white” (qtd. in Barringer, 1991, p. 1). This connection exists outside the realms of Western scientific discourses and resists their ordering of the world through the traditional senses, adding a spiritual sense. It also resists how history and knowledges are viewed, in that they are not embedded in the text (the story, the song, the poem) but enacted upon through the telling or the performance, they are both engaged in and derived from social activity (Cohen, 1989). In the indigenous context, knowledge of the higher realm is revealed through performance which acts as a bridge between the physical and the spiritual dimensions. Not only this but rituals and storytelling explore the intricacies of the community in ways that cannot be done otherwise, exploring the interplay between personal and collective, the intertwining of spiritual and physical, and the mixture of mythology and history. This spiritual connection to a higher realm is always an exploration, always a process rather than an arrival, and always shrouded in mystery; still, through its very denial of definable boundaries it plays a role in resistance. Ward (1990) states, oral narratives and its listeners do not “seek to construct from the text a unified meaning; rather [they are] attentive to the text’s refusal to mean” (pp. 88-89). 26 INDIGENOUS SPIRITUALITY AS RESISTANCE Connections to One’s Whole Self Spirituality is not a separate entity that can be extracted and examined separately from the other aspects of life, it weaves its way through every aspect, from the dayto-day physical actions (Graveline, 1998), to sexuality (Love, Bock, & Richardson, 2005), to how we think (Shahjahan, 2006). Our spirituality is shaped through the influences that are placed on our emotions, our bodies and our mind; they cannot be separated. This is the recognition that everything we do is tied to our spirituality, that every breath we take is at one moment both physical and spiritual, both mental and emotional. Spirituality cannot be cocooned away and divided from other aspects of life, it is in everything we do and everything we are. This connection is aptly conceived in the idea of the First Nations sacred circle which typically represents seven directions of which one is the center or the core (Portman & Garrett, 2004; Cajete, 1994). It is through the integration of the core with the other directions (east, south, west, north, upper/Sky, lower/Earth) that spiritual harmony and balance are achieved. This is the place for individual agency within the community, for selfempowerment within the web of relationships. As Malidoma Somé (1994) argues, “Each one of us possesses a center … The center is both within and without. It is everywhere” (p. 199). A communal spirituality is not the negation of the self to the capricious whims of the community or a higher power but an exploration of self through the lens of relationship and connection to communities and higher powers. These connections provide a way to place the self physically, historically and spiritually. As iterated before, these connections cannot be neatly examined or categorized as they intermingle and affect one another. The connections are not static over time or space; they are constantly changing as we live our own realities and others live their realities beside us. There is no strict delineation of self and community, they converge and diverge at specific moments, never escaping each other. This is part of the beauty of spirituality. DISCUSSION: SPIRITUALITY AS RESISTANCE The previous sections have explored how ideas of a connected indigenous spirituality are in opposition to the hegemonic, individualistic discourses of spirituality. Putting this in discussion with an anti-colonial framework necessarily entails envisioning spirituality as resistance. Each previous section has briefly touched on how indigenous spirituality and its connections can be used as resistance but a concerted effort must now be made to explore exactly what this means. Both Said (1993) and Fanon (1963) argue that colonial discourses never “give anything away out of goodwill” (Said, 1963, p. 207). Said goes on to argue that the colonial must be forced to yield its control through political, cultural and physical battle, to which I would add as an aspect of cultural struggle: the spiritual struggle. In regards to indigenous spirituality, Graveline (1998) argues that “interconnectedness is a necessary resistance strategy” (p. 46). The power of a collective indigenous spirituality needs to be brought to bear in resistance against dominant, 27 ERIC RITSKES imperialistic discourses which seek to posit their knowledge as the only valid form. Dei and Doyle-Wood (2006) see indigenous spirituality as an active and “revolutionary spirituality” that is vital to the anti-colonial project. Spirituality is not resistance simply as a defensive stance to hegemonic Western discourses but it is also constructive, giving ways and spaces to explore power/knowledge relationships through connections and working towards restoring the language of hope. I do not seek to put forward a romanticized notion of resistance and struggle for the sake of struggle; it is not a grand movement or popular uprising but a collection of everyday choices that cumulatively and incrementally build for social change. I also am aware of Foucault’s (1978) assertion that resistance is never external to power and that there needs to be nuanced understandings of how resistance works in relation to structures of power. Weedon (1987) posits that everything we do is either in compliance or resistance to dominant discourses and, consequently, how we perceive spirituality is an important form of resistance. Through connectedness we resist the Western liberal discourse of individualism that posits science and Western rationality as primary. In choosing an indigenous spirituality of connectedness, we are creating space for multiple ways of knowing, for a renewed understanding of the common relationships that we share, and opportunities to interrogate why we see the world as we do. Dei (2002b) states that spiritual knowledge “simultaneously upholds ‘objectivity’ to the subjective experience and similarly some ‘subjectivity’ to the objective reality” (p. 7). It breaks down binaries and begs for more nuanced and multi-faceted approaches to reality. Gearon (2001) clearly states, “A spirituality of dissent resists easy assimilation into the systems of cultural representation … and always presents a challenge to the systems which control such representations” (p. 296). RESISTANCE WITHIN THE CLASSROOM How can a spirituality of resistance be brought into a setting such as the academic classroom where knowledge is closely controlled and validated through dominant Western discourses? How can a spirituality that is rooted in activity and experience make the transition to the classroom where learning is normally passive? Finally, how can a spirituality that is connected to a wide range of forces move to the Academy where knowledge is divorced from its connections and where knowledge is commodified and individualized? These are the questions that arise when resistance happens both ‘within and against’ dominant discourse and institutions such as the Western academy. Indigenous knowledges and spiritualities resist being labelled, reified and corralled into a curriculum. The goal is not to learn about indigenous spiritualities but to learn through them, to use them, and to embody them. Dei (2000) states, “indigenous knowledges do not ‘sit in pristine fashion’ outside of the effects of other knowledges” (p. 111); they are meant to be used as methodology rather than be subject-ed to a book, lesson plan or discipline. The separation of spirituality from practical application, schooling and other forms of knowledge only furthers 28 INDIGENOUS SPIRITUALITY AS RESISTANCE the problematic beliefs that spirituality can be sequestered or ignored as part of the whole person. Through methods of indigenous spirituality, community and connections can be encouraged and fostered, collaborative forms of knowledge can be affirmed, space can be created for individuals to feel connected, and a greater understanding of how spirituality can exist outside of the private sphere can be built. By talking about integrating indigenous spirituality in the classroom there is the recognition that this resistance is still within the dominant discourses and systems of education and is, in this way, limiting (Foucault, 1978). This has been a popular topic among anti-colonial and anti-oppression scholars, can the ‘master’s tools’ dismantle the ‘master’s house’? Anti-colonial writers such as Fanon (1963) have recognized the implications of setting up colonized/colonizer binaries that ignore the complexities within them and to separate spirituality and indigenous knowledges from the academy does the same. Dei (2000) calls the academy one of the most important starting places for decolonization work, a place to lodge a sustained critique of Western domination. I agree that to create spirituality and indigenous knowledges as outside of the academy only serves to create rather than dismantle binaries, yet this does not mean accepting the system as flawless; as Dei (2000) poignantly puts it, it is not about “opening the ‘club’ to new members, but rather, examining the whole idea/structure of the club” (p. 119). It involves looking for ways to create a framework where knowledge can be created collaboratively, multiple groups and individuals centered, and mutual inter-dependence affirmed. I will put forward three ways in which I believe indigenous spirituality can be mobilized and affirmed in a classroom setting to resist dominant classroom norms, whether it be at the primary schooling level, secondary schooling or in institutes of higher education. Recognizing and Affirming Difference Connected spirituality is not a homogenizing, essentializing, Western liberal ‘multicultural’ project and its goal is not to integrate spiritualities or philosophies to create a “world-culture” (Nakagawa, 2000) nor to posit a sort of spiritual universalism (Beck, 1999). It resists a Eurocentric dominance that masquerades as unity or tolerance of diversity; the kind of token multiculturalism that Rushdie (1992) calls “teaching kids a few bongo rhythms” (p. 137). In a connected spirituality, instead of being ignored, hidden, essentialized, romanticised or reduced to stereotypes, difference is valued and appreciated. Dei (2002) states that it is the teacher’s role to “candidly explore all the emerging contestations, contradictions and ambiguities in peoples’ lives” (p. 7). The multiplicity of identities in a classroom cannot be ignored because the student’s lived experiences and their spiritual journey affect how they will create knowledge in the classroom. The power of difference needs to be embraced and explored. Students can be challenged to interrogate how their identity is formed by relationships, how they are spiritually connected to a wide range of relationships, and how these concepts affect how they perceive and learn. Not only must we openly accept the interrogation of identity but, as educators, we must illuminate the 29 ERIC RITSKES connections and relationships that ground the learner to the larger historical, political, and spiritual contexts (Dei, 2002). This interrogation needs to go beyond superficial difference, that is often currently paraded, and towards examining individual particularities. This is not to promote a fragmentation around individualism or to succumb to relativism but to understand that individualism can be explored within the context of connectedness and community. It is through relationships that individuals are shaped and formed; we need to learn how to explore these relationships in new ways that go beyond what we have done to this point. Affirming Collaborative Learning Collaborative learning begins when the teacher/student dichotomy is broken down in a positive way that allows for everyone to contribute their lived experiences to the process of knowledge building, regardless of position or credentials. It recognizes that each student brings their unique spirituality to the classroom and recognizes the dynamic and fluid qualities of knowledge production. In recognizing student’s individual spirituality, the classroom becomes a space to learn about individual stories and daily resistances, showing us the complexities of daily changing power structures (Abu-Lughod, 1990). The classroom is deconstructed as a space of abstraction, objectivity and rationality, as something removed from the messy realities of domination. This begins with selfinvestigation on the part of the teacher or educator. Dei (2000) calls the decolonization project one of self-implication and Howard (2006) emphasizes the importance for educators of voicing one’s story of implication in colonial processes; decolonization begins with decolonization of the self, which as Wane (2006) describes, is much more of a process than an isolated event. Educators need to reflect on their own connections to colonialism and resistance and to place themselves within the webs of relationships and spirituality. This collaborative process can even extend beyond the walls of the classroom to include the community in the process of knowledge production, demonstrating again that knowledge is not contained within the academy or controlled by a certain group; as Dei (2002) states, collaborative processes “present communities as active, spiritual subjects, resistors and creators” (p. 8). This does not imply the need for “service learning” models, as McNally (2004) suggests, that thrust students into communities without examining the power dynamics. Projects such as these only posit communities as something to observe or to use as a step on the journey to personal fulfillment instead of recognizing the value of the knowledge that they have to offer or viewing them as co-creators and an integral part of knowledge production. Indigenous learning and spiritualities are embodied and active, they do not sit pristinely in the classroom nor flow in the unidirectional teacher to student flow – they are alive and multi-directional. Collaborative learning illustrates this to students and deconstructs the power of the teacher as a holder and dispenser of knowledge. 30 INDIGENOUS SPIRITUALITY AS RESISTANCE In this process of deconstructing the learned/learner dichotomy, collaborative learning also becomes a process where questions become as important as answers. There is recognition that there can be multiple answers to a single question, multiple questions to be asked, multiple ways of asking the same question and the definitive answer to these questions does not always come from those in positions of power. Again, this is not a relativist approach but one that opens the doors for students to see possibilities and gives them a chance to find value for themselves. In affirming the connected aspect of spirituality and learning, questions can be the door to allowing students to explore how these connections affect and shape who they are as spiritual beings. Creating a Space of Openness and Belonging Spirituality cannot simply be introduced to a classroom as a subject or something to be learned from a book. Groen (2008) notes that classes on spirituality are increasingly being offered in professional faculties such as nursing, business or education but spirituality needs space to be active beyond a specific curriculum, a space to allow for an embodied learning experience. One way to do this is to create what Kessler (1999) calls “an authentic community”, a space of openness where students feel comfortable exploring their relationships and connections. It is also a space that allows for different experiences and is open to new possibilities in exploring spirituality, such as through play, creative learning such as art or drama, story sharing, or even silence. Dei (2005) calls for schooling that allows an open space for each student to be able to connect with their past, their present environment, their history, and to which I add, their spirituality and possibilities. Spirituality cannot be forced into a curriculum or onto students, spiritual experiences cannot be manufactured through certain techniques or exercises, and awareness of connections cannot simply be shown. What educators who are interested in bringing spirituality into classroom spaces can do is provide possibilities and spaces which are safe for students to explore for themselves. In creating such a space, spiritual characteristics such as compassion, respect, and contemplation can be encouraged and explored in the context of connection. Instead of presenting learning as a competitive, individual pursuit leading to personal gain, education needs to be viewed as an endeavor to uncover and understand our connections, to understand how they shape who we are, and how we can create resistance through connectedness. As hooks (2003) argues, “conventional education teaches us that disconnection is organic to being” (p. 180). A connected spirituality ruptures the conventional. Spirituality creates community and shared experiences through humility, empowerment and dialogue, opening up a space for learners to belong to knowledge production. Creating Space for Active, Embodied Learning As Cajete (1994) argues, students are often ‘refitted’ to the system that caused the problem in the first place rather than looking at refitting the system to the students. In integrating spirituality into the education system, spaces need to be created for 31 ERIC RITSKES active, embodied learning which will challenge the system in place and allow space for each student to ‘fit’ in their own way. Cajete (1994) looks at an indigenous centered curriculum “Creative Process: The Centering Place,” that takes students out of the traditional classroom and engages them with nature, history, philosophy, community, mythology, and the whole self in ways that make the knowledge active and alive. The students interact within the community and within nature in ways that allow them to explore spiritual connections. Thinking of an active, embodied spiritual learning will sometimes entail thinking outside of the box of the educational system, of the classroom, and the assigned curriculum in an effort to provide an inclusive education that centers each student and allows them to explore their spiritual and whole selves. Within the classroom, games can bring students together and help them grow connections, art can help them encounter processes steeped in meaning and mystery, and having students bring in objects that have spiritual meaning for them to discuss with the class can be positive ways of promoting a connected spirituality through embodied learning (Kessler, 1999). Stories and songs, both the process of creating them and performing them, can help to convey the connections between the spiritual and the physical. Collaborative projects of creation can show how individuals work within the frameworks of community. These activities should not be confined to ‘fine arts’ or ‘drama’ but can inform dialogue across the disciplines; as David Hanlon (2003) argues, “History it seems to me can be sung, danced, chanted, spoken, carved, woven, painted, sculpted and rapped as well as written …” (p. 30). Wane (2006) describes a group activity that she does with her class that involves collaboration and tangible examples of how colonial violence severed and distorted tradition knowledges and realities. Cajete (1994) describes a process where art, biology and mythology are brought together to allow students to explore their connections to Mother Earth and the interplay of the elements through painting, sculpting, journal writing, storying and other art forms. Active spiritual learning cuts across the disciplines and refuses to be subject-ed. CONCLUSION The spiritual resurgence that we are seeing in the academy is important in being able to produce an education system that allows for the participation of the whole self but without the proper emphasis placed on connectedness this spirituality loses its power of resistance and reproduces dominant Western liberal discourses of individualism. Not only are we connected to individuals around us but we are connected to history through those who have gone before, connected to larger frameworks beyond what we can empirically prove, and connected to our whole self. The beauty of bringing spirituality into the classroom is that there is no formula or set method but an infinite amount of possibilities that are dependent on the connections of the individuals within the class. There is no amount of reading or learning on the topic of spirituality that can ensure students will emerge with a greater understanding of their spiritual connections; when spirituality is used as a 32 INDIGENOUS SPIRITUALITY AS RESISTANCE methodology what can be given to students is a space and the tools to use, if they so choose. Bringing a connected spirituality into the classroom is never simple as it necessarily interacts with the messy world of reality; as Battiste (2000) states, “Indigenous knowledge is the way of living within contexts of flux, paradox, and tension, respecting the pull of dualism and reconciling opposing forces” (p. 42). Spirituality is not intended to be separated from reality or to sit in “pristine fashion” outside of other forms of knowing, it is meant to be used and to be constantly created and re-created in context of each individual’s connections with each other (Dei, 2000). ‘Working definitions’ and fluid boundaries become vital as spiritualities interact and constantly create and re-create knowledges. It is in the understanding of our mutual inter-dependence and our enactment of it that resistance gains power. A spirituality of resistance also moves away from the language of victimization and negative criticism towards something constructive and creative; as Wane (2008) recognizes, “It is imperative that I stop spending my time critiquing the totalizing forms of western historicism and engage in the discourse of possibility, where the missing voices and knowledges can be heard and validated” (p. 194). If resistance is to be meaningful and sustainable it needs to stop constantly responding to criticisms and critiques and to engage in positive ways with other voices who seek constructive resistance, strengthening and building up alternative systems of education, ways of viewing spirituality, and ways of knowing. This involves sometime being quiet and listening to the multiplicity of voices and experiences in each classroom. This approach is not asking educators to don the proverbial rose-colored lens but to work toward empowerment through positive construction, moving towards hope, and embracing possibility. This chapter presents no definitive answers or strategies but, hopefully, rather connections and possibilities to be explored further by teachers, administrators, and educators. A connected spirituality encourages the spirit of exploration as we seek to uncover the relationships that shape who we are and how we can positively work within these relationships, resisting those that seek to dominate and encouraging those that seek to promote peace and openness. The classroom is a vital space in working toward spiritual understanding and in giving individuals a place to safely explore the many connections that they bring to the community. 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