Excerpt: “And I understood just what we would do for each other, just what we would do for the ebb and pull of the dream, the bigger dream that held us all. Anything. Everything.” In this way, Cherie Dimaline (Métis Nation of Ontario) ends the 2017 novel The Marrow Thieves. This article argues that the novel reimagines resistance to settler colonialism through an Indigenous feminist and queer ethic of intergenerational care. Dimaline centers Elders and queer kinship as the primary agents of survivance (Vizenor), showing how practices of teaching, tending, ceremony, and story constitute counter-violence. Methodologically, I draw on Indigenous feminist theory and resurgence (Simpson), refusal (Audra Simpson), and decolonial critique (Mignolo and Walsh) to read the novel’s aesthetic, narrative, and epistemic interventions. I show how The Marrow Thieves relocates sovereignty from the state to landbased kin-structures. I examine how chosen, non-biological family reorders value beyond heteropatriarchal nuclear logics and how Minerva’s and Miig’s teachings help their kin and ultimately the nation to actively practice resurgence. Finally, I argue that the text revises colonial temporality by insisting that time is non-linear, meaning that ancestors, present kin, and future beings co-occur. The sections that follow map (1) colonial extractivism; (2) care as counter-violence; (3) queer/Elder kinship as epistemic sovereignty; (4) story and language as insurgent and resurgent; and (5) Indigenous Futurisms.





Description: Wardship and the Welfare State examines the ideological dimensions and practical intersections of public policy and Native American citizenship, Indian wardship, and social welfare rights after World War II. By examining Native wardship’s intersections with three pieces of mid-twentieth-century welfare legislation—the 1935 Social Security Act, the 1942 Servicemen’s Dependents Allowance Act, and the 1944 GI Bill—Mary Klann traces the development of a new conception of first-class citizenship. Wardship and the Welfare State explores how policymakers and legislators have defined first-class citizenship against its apparent opposite, the much older and fraught idea of Indian wardship. Wards were considered dependent, while first-class citizens were considered independent. Wards were thought to receive gratuitous aid from the government, while first-class citizens were considered responsible. Critics of the federal welfare state’s expansion in the 1930s through 1960s feared that as more Americans received government aid, they too could become dependent wards, victims of the poverty they saw on reservations. Because critics believed wardship prevented Native men and women from fulfilling expectations of work, family, and political membership, they advocated terminating Natives’ trust relationships with the federal government. As these critics mistakenly equated wardship with welfare, state officials also prevented Native people from accessing needed welfare benefits. But to Native peoples wardship was not welfare and welfare was not wardship. Native nations and pan-Native organizations insisted on Natives’ government-to-government relationships with the United States and maintained their rights to welfare benefits. In so doing, they rejected stereotyped portrayals of Natives’ perpetual poverty and dependency and asserted and defined tribal sovereignty. By illuminating how assumptions about “gratuitous” government benefits limit citizenship, Wardship and the Welfare State connects Native people to larger histories of race, inequality, gender, and welfare in the twentieth-century United States.


Abstract: This paper reveals the discursive mechanisms through which generative AI reinforces societal hegemony and denies scope for Indigenous Data Sovereignty (IDS). We interrogate the implicit positionality of text-based generative AI Large Language Models (LLMs) through responses to a single ontological question: What is life’s purpose? The first answer to this question was then modified by three respective prompts: ‘Indigenise response’; ‘queer response’; ‘Indigenise and queer response’. The baseline (normative) response focused on global impact, personal joy, continuous growth, inspiring others, and creating a legacy; an ‘Indigenous’ modifier focused on nature, connection, community, ancestors, and sharing knowledge; a ‘queer’ modifier returned a politicised purpose of radical kindness, LGBTQ+ rights, and inclusivity, and the ‘Indigenous-queer’ modifier returned a randomised mash-up of the previous responses, loosely focused on cultural strength and queer liberation. Comparative critical discourse analysis of the findings, from our Indigenous, queer, and Indigenous-queer author positionalities, found that Indigenised life purpose was positioned outside of settler colonialism, denying the situatedness of Indigenous ways of knowing, being, and doing within coloniality and the related IDS priority issues of sovereignty and self-determination. Conversely, queered life purpose was radical and resistive, an inherently political way of being with no scope for existing outside of politics. The intersectional response was not cohesive, but it did both contain political and apolitical elements. This analysis exposes the limits of LLMs such as ChatGPT for IDS priorities such as community speaking for community and control of our own narratives and ontologies. It debunks notions of AI neutrality by highlighting settler colonial, cis-hetero-normative, and otherising responses within in seemingly ‘apolitical’ tech. GPT thus provides a contemporaneous example of the hegemonic systems the IDS movement is challenging. Further, intersectionality is revealed as a potential hegemonic disrupter through the system’s inability to control a narrative that includes multiple identities.