Abstract: Behind every hypervisible collective action organised by a social movement is an enormous amount of labour cultivating everyday people’s ability and willingness to mobilise—a political education which takes place both inside and outside the classroom. Despite the close relationship this implies between organising and education, however, distinct bodies of research have emerged around them which struggle to engage with each other. Social movement theory concerns itself more with the phenomenon of social movements themselves, with less consideration for the labours which enable them to emerge; critical pedagogy, meanwhile, focuses on developing individuals’ capacity for transformative social action, but often without forging meaningful links to those actions taken by social movements. My research seeks to address this fissure by exploring how it informs decolonial struggle in the case study of the Tiriti workers’ movement in Aotearoa New Zealand. Since the signing of Te Tiriti o Waitangi (The Treaty of Waitangi) in 1840, Māori, the Indigenous people of Aotearoa, have struggled against European colonisation. These efforts went largely unsupported in any organised capacity by the settler population until the gradual emergence of the Tiriti workers’ movement in the 1970s and 1980s. Following Māori calls for non-Māori to conscientise our own people about the realities of colonisation and the need to support Māori aspirations for self-determination, this movement within the settler population is now known for its educational interventions in settler communities and institutions across the country. Drawing on a scholar-activist praxis which involved working within and through my existing relationships as a participant in the Tiriti workers’ movement, I conducted and analysed a series of interviews with 25 of my Tiriti worker peers for this research. Together, we sought to better understand how and why our knowledge-practices were established; how and why they have changed over time; and how those changes open and/or foreclose new opportunities to advance the movement’s (and by extension Māori) interests. Through analysis of these discussions, I argue that this case study demonstrates the key tensions and overlaps between educating and organising practices that emerge when pursuing transformative social change in settler-colonial contexts. This claim is supported by the data in three ways. First, many participants found that the movement’s primarily educational strategies are now experiencing diminishing returns, as more of the population becomes “Tiriti-educated” but remains unsure as to what happens next. Second, constraints on Pākehā (white European New Zealander) Tiriti education in particular have pushed out a critical analysis of the centrality of race in local settler-colonial structures and systems. This has prevented meaningful Tiriti-based coalition-building from taking place between Pākehā and other settlers, highlighting a continued need for education even amongst the otherwise “Tiriti-educated”. Third, the movement has an unusual positioning within the dominant settler group as part of the object of transformation. This position requires both a careful reconstruction of self-interest and a structural analysis of state and capital, tasks for which critical pedagogy and social movement theoretical traditions, respectively, are better equipped. These findings show that rather than being a linear process within which education results in action, in practice education is deeply intertwined with other forms of collective action, contradicting the divisions evident in the literature. This thesis therefore makes important contributions to the bridging of social movement theory and critical pedagogy by showing how the social change processes they emphasise are in fact mutually dependent in their efforts to establish and sustain effective challenges to the colonial-capitalist status quo.


Abstract: This paper investigates how majority societies’ common ignorance about Indigenous peoples and ongoing settler-colonial reality (“settler ignorance”) has been negotiated in the educational sciences literature. Understanding settler ignorance not as a simple “lack of knowledge” but a powerful issue undermining Indigenous rights and decolonial aspirations, this review sets out to gain new understanding of its dimensions in educational settings. The reviewed literature covers 51 peer-reviewed qualitative records from six settler-colonial contexts – Finland, Sweden, Norway, Canada, Australia, and Aotearoa/New Zealand. The emerging conceptualisations of the phenomenon of settler ignorance and ways of addressing it were explored through thematic synthesis. The findings suggest that settler ignorance has many faces: it is conceptualised as emotionally and ideologically contested knowledge-making, as wilful avoidance and resistance, and as a structural mechanism that transcends the question of individual cognition. Similarly, the proposed approaches to dismantling ignorance are diverse, emphasising the potential of educational content, building relationality, and critical reflection. Discussing the findings’ implications, the article suggests how harnessing both context-based and transnational understandings about settler ignorance and its many dimensions could benefit reconciliatory processes between settler and Indigenous populations and signpost one approach to decolonising education.








Abstract: This graduate thesis involves a retelling of the history of the now defunct Canton Insane Asylum, built in the early 20th century located in Canton, South Dakota. It was America’s first federal psychiatric facility dedicated exclusively for American Indians. The Canton Insane Asylum for American Indians is a touchstone whose microhistory reflects larger political and economic sentiments in both the state of South Dakota and in the United States writ large. Conceiving South Dakota, as first and foremost a white settler society erected on land forcibly wrested from American Indian people, the asylum played an important economic development role and helped transform Canton, South Dakota. All of this was accomplished through physical and medical violence and exploitation of vulnerable American Indians. The Canton Insane Asylum for American Indians was aided and abetted by cheerleading state officials and callously managed by various colonial superintendents of whom one is particularly noteworthy—Dr. Harry Reid Hummer. Methodologically, this thesis leverages archival records (housed and littered across three national archives: Kansas City, Dallas, Texas, and Washington, D.C. as well as state archives) consisting of governmental reports, the insane asylum’s financial records, oral testimonies, and patient case files. Where primary sources are lacking, secondary sources are used. More specifically, the thesis highlights the brutal scientific management and medical practices as carried out by the insane asylum executives and staff members; the inherent capitalistic ethos propelling the insane asylum, the business of confinement, and the manner in which pseudoscience and epidemiology data were contorted to justify the confinement of American Indians. The first patient arrived in 1902, and the facility permanently closed in 1934 due to dehumanizing conditions. Over its lifetime, it warehoused more than three-hundred and seventy American Indians.


Excerpt: The transmission of food culture is a long, slow, organic process, an immersive experiential learning communicated across generations and across frontiers, with ruptures due to emigration, war, and displacement. The contributions to this second special edition of the Jerusalem Quarterly devoted to Palestinian food and foodways draw attention to the role of women, men, and children in securing this transmission, and the deliberate interference in this transmission to serve political agendas. From traditional wedding celebrations in early twentieth-century Palestine to contemporary cookery books and vlogs, transmission is examined through the lenses of Palestinian and diasporic identities, settler colonialism, commodification, resistance, survival, and “gastro-diplomacy.” Lifestyles become an embodiment of food practices interwoven with relationships and identities, with the Gaza Food Kitchen as a poignant example of community mobilization and documenting “the heartbreaking [current] realities on the ground.” Social media posts and reels show the preparation of traditional dishes while bombs are being dropped on Gaza, familiar existential images as the war enters its second year, confirming how sheer survival is a form of resistance. Settler colonialism is scrutinized as an agent of rupture that unsettles age-old practices, denies Indigeneity, tampers with memory, and alters history in the service of a triumphant Zionism keen on constructing a narrative to suppport its colonizing claims to Palestine.