Excerpt: In a well-known short story by American-born Canadian author Thomas King, the narrator’s mother drives up to the border with her daughter in the car, attempting to cross into Montana. The Canada Border Services Agency officer asks, “Wow, you both Canadians?” “Blackfoot” is her reply. After a discussion about the agent knowing a Blackfoot person, she asks again. “Citizenship?” “Blackfoot” again is the reply. “‘I know,’ said the woman, ‘and I’d be proud of being Blackfoot if I were Blackfoot. But you have to be American or Canadian.” While this is a fictional short story, there are plenty of instances of this situation occurring not just for the Blackfoot/Blackfeet (the designation depending on whether one is referring to the nation in what is now Montana—Blackfeet—or Alberta—Blackfoot), but also the Haudenosaunee in the New York, Ontario, or Quebec region, the Coast Salish of the Pacific Northwest, and others across the continent. What these instances of division, citizenship, and frustration have in common is the international border. From a state-centric position, international borders mark the power of the state to control movement, bestow citizenship, and define those who reside within its territory. In North America, particularly the Canada–United States border, there is little concern about a military threat. However, “risky others” remain a concern for both countries due to the real or perceived threat from potential terrorists, migrants, smugglers, and, because of settler colonialism, Indigenous peoples. These fears have only grown in the past two decades as the state continues to present Indigenous peoples, and others, as a threat to justify and extend its imperialist agenda. Though regularly ignored by settler politicians, Indigenous perspectives continue to challenge this statecentric position.