Abstract: My dissertation analyzes the relationship between public health and settler colonialism, employing age and ability as key categories of analysis. I argue that settler colonialism and public health were constitutive of one another. Public health policy weaves together notions about land, race, labour, age, and ability, to structure and stratify societies. Public health relied on white supremacist tropes to justify the state’s attempts to subjugate and dispossess the Anishinaabeg in Northern Ontario. The idea of a “public” was critical and contested in the intersection of policy and the emerging social science of public health. Settler standards of public imagined a “public” that was white, male, middle-class, and adult, with a body that could be made healthy through individual effort. Settler ideas about Indigenous Peoples shaped the “public” as a racialized and age-stratified concept in Canadian public health and health policy. In this dissertation, I seek to highlight how material and symbolic age, and material and symbolic children, figured in settler-colonial processes of state formation in the context of public health policies. I examine how bureaucrats and institutions in the public and voluntary sectors constructed and portrayed Indigenous and settler health, measuring each against a middle-class standard of “public” health. To do this, I set forth four interconnected arguments. First, settler colonialism and settler public health policy were mutually constitutive. Second, disability existed alongside and entangled with age as a key framing for settler public health policies. Third, these public health policies drew from a bifurcated notion of the “public,” resulting in policies focused on protection and surveillance based on racialized lines. Finally, these framings of disability, age, and the “public” had clear material impacts in Northern Ontario’s settler colonial context, enabling settlement while dispossessing Indigenous Peoples.






Abstract: Beading is an important pathway for Indigenous peoples to restore, revitalize, and reclaim ancestral practices and community connections destroyed by colonization. As a decolonial practice, beadwork mobilizes Indigenous knowledge transmission and is intrinsically tied to the emotional, spiritual, and physical well-being of Indigenous peoples. Research colleagues and friends Justine Woods and Presley Mills met at the first Beading Circle hosted at Toronto Metropolitan University in the winter of 2019. Gathered around a table, the first teaching Woods shared with the group was to only bead while in a positive and calm mindset as the beads take in our energy and, with each stitch, become embedded with our intentions. Using beadworking as a method of inquiry, Woods and Mills hosted three beading circles in the fall of 2021 with four collaborators from the beadwork community to consider the ways beading is a therapeutic and decolonial practice. Through exploratory discussion, the group answered questions such as: Amidst ongoing settler colonialism, how can beadwork restore and repair your relationship to community, identity and ancestral lands? How does beading impact you emotionally? How does practicing beadwork contribute to individual and collective efforts of decolonization? In this chapter, Woods and Mills discuss how beadwork fosters a common thread within community, the power of beadwork as a conduit of decolonial space, and beadwork’s relationship to Fashion and how beading was medicine during the Covid-19 pandemic.



Abstract: How can we get insights into early Soviet cinema screenings for indigenous audiences in the Siberian taiga at the end of the 1920s? Preserved by the Grodekov Khabarovsk Regional Museum (Russia), the recently published diaries of Alexandra Putintseva, a cultural worker posted at the ‘Far Eastern red yurt’ from 1929 to 1932, are a valuable source to investigate the issue. Putintseva’s diaries provide a wealth of information on movie screenings within these particular Soviet institutions, as well as their reception by indigenous audiences. They show that, far from the common colonial stereotype, indigenous audience was not astonished or frightened in front of the cinematic spectacle or apparatus. Furthermore, they also offer essential information on the immediate context within which these screenings took place, an issue of equal importance in understanding what cinema as a social practice meant for indigenous audiences. Performed in a multifunctional building aiming to radically change (‘modernise’) indigenous (‘traditional’) way of life, cinema was classified as political enlightenment work. As a result, for the indigenous audience, watching films was intimately intertwined with the new Bolshevik society and its modernising endeavour. Ultimately, the diaries illustrate what I have termed ‘cinema-coming’ (when the expected audience does not go to the cinema, cinema ‘comes’ to the audience), in which film exhibition was closely linked to state ideology and the formation of modern citizens.