Description: Queer Professionals and Settler Colonialism works to dismantle the perception of an inclusive queer community by considering the ways white lesbian, gay, bisexual, trans, and queer (LGBTQ2S+) people participate in larger processes of white settler colonialism in Canada. Cameron Greensmith analyses Toronto-based queer service organizations, including health care, social service, and educational initiatives, whose missions and mandates attempt to serve and support all LGBTQ2S+ people. Considering the ways queer service organizations and their politics are tied to the nation state, Greensmith explores how, and under what conditions, non-Indigenous LGBTQ2S+ people participate in the sustainment of white settler colonial conditions that displace, erase, and inflict violence upon Indigenous people and people of colour. Critical of the ways queer organizations deal with race and Indigeneity, Queer Professionals and Settler Colonialism highlights the stories of non-Indigenous LGBTQ2S+ service providers, including volunteers, outreach workers, health care professionals, social workers, and administrators who are doing important work to help, care, and heal. Their stories offer a glimpse into how service providers imagine their work, their roles, and their responsibilities. In doing so, this book considers how queer organizations may better support Indigenous people and people of colour while also working to eliminate the legacy of racism and settler colonialism in Canada. This book analyzes queer organizations in Canada and explores the ways health care, counselling, and social services address the intersecting oppressions facing Indigenous people, families, and communities.


Description: Explores the untold impacts of colonialism in New England through diverse colonist lives, Indigenous encounters, and environmental legacies. In The Shock of Colonialism in New England, archaeologist Meghan C. L. Howey uses excavations in the seventeenth-century colonial frontier of the Great Bay Estuary/P8bagok in today’s New Hampshire to trace the connection between European global colonialism and the planetary climate crises. Howey shows how this landscape holds forgotten stories of what it meant to live through the shock of colonialism. These stories reveal an unexpected diversity and dynamism among English colonists, multifaceted encounters with Indigenous peoples, and lasting environmental damage from labor-intensive industries. Early Euro-American maps and stunning archaeological finds, such as a broken pickaxe embedded in a hearth and a historical marker for the Oyster River “Massacre” of 1694, complicate our limited views of a shared past. The reality of English colonialism in the dispossession of Indigenous lands and its wake is not what is seen commemorated. Howey’s work is a powerful corrective that traces the rise of intergenerational colonial wealth made possible by land commodified as property, the increased labor required to work newly opened land, the importation of indentured Scots and enslaved Africans to provide that labor, and the resulting degradation of the natural environment. Through Howey’s insights into the stories they tell, these fragments from a frontier can help contemporary readers better understand the past as they seek a more just and sustainable future.


Abstract: This dissertation traces a melancholic archive of Texan culture, arguing that the fraught psyches it contains are formed by the radical imaginative foreclosures imposed by the state’s settler colonial history. Texas’ history of discursive and forceful claims to Anglo sovereignty parallels that of the United States at large, but in a condensed space and time, placing it within the problematics of settler colonial theory in ways that have yet to be fully understood. Building upon theories of psychoanalysis, settler colonial studies, and Indigenous critical theory, this dissertation considers cultural mediations of Texas for their continued imaginative work of repression and disavowal, work that is necessitated by the central violences and constitutive fraudulences of the state. I look to cinema and literature as realms of shared fantasy that reflect the psychopathological conditions of settler colonial subjectivity. Texas often forms a conflicted site in the national imaginary, one of both desire and disavowal, a screen through which realities of broad and structural historical violences can be effaced, quarantined, or assuaged. I write colonial histories into and alongside these cultural texts, arguing that the violence necessitated by forcing settler fictions into reality offers crucial context to the oftentimes inexplicable or misattributed psycho-affective confusion of Texas cultural characters. The literature of Larry McMurtry, and filmic adaptations of his work, serve as a central locus through which to explore the melancholic psyche of Texan settler masculinity and the trauma of colonial Oedipal demands in Texas. I argue that the centrality of loss that permeates the cultural archive of Texas is best understood as a settler neurosis, a symptom of subjectivities that remain haunted by what they necessarily disavow but are unable to mourn. This dissertation ultimately proposes a radical abandonment of attachments to Texas, motivated by understanding the violent and irreconcilable logics structured within it, in hopes of building more sustainable shared futures.



Abstract: Indigenous women and children in Canada are significantly more likely to experience some form of family violence than their non-Indigenous counterparts. However, biomedical and academic discussions around the violence that Indigenous women and their families and communities face reflect a colonial narrative emphasizing Euro-Canadian perspectives and values; a colonial narrative that disconnects the role of past and ongoing forms of colonial violence and naturalizes family violence within Indigenous communities, informing a view of Indigeneity as risk. Through a decolonial lens, the underlying causes of family violence in Indigenous communities can be connected to the gendered violence of patriarchal colonialism targeting Indigenous women. It is revealed how Indigenous women’s bodies became a site of the coloniality of violence as colonization disenfranchised and displaced Indigenous women from their lands, communities, and central roles. Gendered colonial violence attacked Indigenous women’s scared status in their societies and disrupted Indigenous relational modes of being. This informed a coloniality of being for Indigenous peoples; a coloniality of being integral to intergenerational trauma and family violence. Through the lens of Indigenous laws as a decolonial approach to family violence, the centrality of Indigenous women’s roles and responsibilities as mothers is linked to community wellbeing and intertwined with leadership and governance. By grounding the rights of Indigenous women within relationships, Indigenous women can reclaim their sacred places within respectful, reciprocal, and interconnected ways of being.






Abstract: Sketching possibilities for planetary futurity, the first pages of Octavia E. Butler’s Parable of the Sower (1993) unveil an illusive dreamscape where earthly remembrance and intercosmic imagination merge. Butler’s protagonist, Lauren Olamina, is “learning to fly” as she sleeps, but drifting further from the safety of her imagined doorway, she becomes engulfed by flames (4). “[G]rabbing handfuls of air and fire” as she “kick[s]” to safety, Lauren’s reverie exposes a climatic anxiety that inundates her subconscious (4). Lauren obtains respite once she “fade[s] into the second part of the dream” she describes “as ordinary and real,” a memory from years ago (4). The incinerated environment becomes illuminated by stars whose “cool, pale, glinting light” offers cosmic shelter from the heat of the day (5). Figuring stars and celestial bodies as evocations of distinct memories, Lauren’s dream echoes throughout Sower as a representation of astronomical potentiality. Her reverie, unearthed in a half-conscious state, serves to inspire otherworldly and emphatically material hope of survivance amidst Earth’s collapse, as “life alone is enough” to invite promise for remote planets free from ecological disruption (83). By presenting the stars as a common space distant from the violent environs of a burning dreamscape, Sower invites readings where potential life-worlds are corporeal sanctuaries compared to the blaze violently spreading in her dream, in her community, and on Earth. Lauren’s imagining within a dire future lends itself to a spatial intimacy where the stars, in their vast remoteness, are also a tangible source of refuge.