Abstract: Indigenous Resistance to the construction of the Dakota Access Pipeline (DAPL) garnered national and international media attention in 2016 as thousands gathered near the Standing Rock Sioux Reservation in protest. Increased media attention spurred enquiry concerning the representation of the Indigenous peoples leading the movement, subjecting the movement to settler assumptions about Indigenous resistance. This research employs a qualitatively-based content analysis of 80 news articles reporting on the DAPL protest. These articles range in political bias and can be categorized in one of the following groups: Conservative Bias, Liberal Bias, Mainstream News, Local News, and Indigenous News. Commonly occurring codes and themes are analysed across each category. Word count and frequency of reporting are also considered to gain a more comprehensive understanding of the media representations as they develop through time. While the non-Indigenous-led media commonly cites water security and destruction of sacred sites as the reasons for protest, the Indigenous led media also cites treaty rights, tribal sovereignty, economic vulnerability, climate change, and colonial history more frequently, indicating a multi-dimensional and more holistic understanding of the movement and the Indigenous experience. The mainstream of U.S. reporting on the DAPL protests perpetuate a reductive, one-dimensional framing of the daily struggles of Indigenous Americans by ignoring the impacts of ongoing settler colonial operations.


Abstract: This paper relates the cartographic construction of public lands by topographic surveys of the Colorado Plateau in the 19th Century to contemporary debates over the management of public lands. We focus our attention on the Bears Ears National Monument that was established by President Barack Obama via Executive Order in 2016, only to be significantly reduced in size by President Donald Trump one year later. Debates over the Monument hinged on competing notions of the public interest, where the public was conceived as a singular entity in ways that marginalized the leading role played by the Hopi, Zuni, Navajo, Ute, and Ute Mountain Ute tribes in securing designation of the Monument. These debates featured competing claims of “federal overreach” and theft that glossed over the Tribes’ role in creating the Monument, let alone how the land became public in the first place. This paper considers the role that surveys by the US Army Corps of Topographic Engineers, John Wesley Powell, Ferdinand Vandeveer Hayden, and others played in papering over the theft of Indigenous lands. Their cartographic depictions of the region underpin current debates over management of public lands. They also shape the terrain on which the five tribes in the Bears Ears Inter-Tribal Coalition have worked to protect the area through designation of the Bears Ears National Monument. Framing struggles over Bears Ears as a public lands issue embraces a history of erasure and dispossession and shifts focus from returning land to tribal control.




Abstract: The places of northwestern British Columbia, and the Indigenous and settler peoples who find work, build homes, establish communities, and sustain culture in these places, are often perceived as peripheral or overlooked, existing on the edge or outside of the notice, care, and understanding of the people and places seemingly at the centre of national or global significance. When attention is turned to northwestern British Columbia, it is often to report on issues related to the legacy and ongoing work of settler colonial dispossession of Indigenous peoples from their land, including missing and murdered Indigenous women and girls, particularly along the infamous Highway of Tears; the successes and failures of the federal and provincial governments to respect Indigenous rights and title, such as in the landmark Delgamuukw-Gisdaywa court case; and First Nations’ acts of resistance, like the Unist’ot’en Camp, to resource transportation or extraction projects on their territories that they have not consented to. In this project, I turn to the work of writers and poets in northwestern British Columbia who portray and examine in their writing what it means—and what it could mean—for both Indigenous and settler peoples to call the same land home. In particular, I argue that the poetry and literary nonfiction of settler poet, essayist, and cultural geographer Sarah de Leeuw constructs creative narrative maps that unsettle readers from the certainty they might have in the success of settler colonialism. Additionally, her creative representations of personal experiences in the distinct physical and cultural geographies of the region call for reorienting ourselves in the way we think about and move through northwestern British Columbia so that we might envision other ways—potentially decolonial ways that respect Indigenous rights and title and dismantle settler privilege—of living, working, profiting, and building futures in these places. Each chapter in this dissertation takes up a significant theme in de Leeuw’s collections of literary nonfiction, Unmarked: Landscapes Along Highway 16 (2004) and Where It Hurts (2017), and her long poem, Skeena (2015), and locates my critical close reading of the texts at the intersections of scholarly and public dialogues, especially as they are unfolding in British Columbia, related to reconciliation and decolonization, settler colonialism, and literary cartography as a form and methodology of creative writing and reading practice. As the literary writing and culture of northwestern British Columbia continues to flourish and to grow its readership, I hope this critical analysis of the work of one of its emerging authors meaningfully contributes to and highlights the ongoing opportunity for examining the
ways in which settler stories about the places they call home can collaborate in the work
of creating and sustaining a more just world.



Abstract: The ongoing “Intifada of Unity” against Israel’s settler colonialism has resuscitated discussions about the liberatory potential of digital emancipation due to the massive data traffic circulation through its international media coverage. In fact, in a process that has intensified since the outbreak of the global pandemic at the very least, social media platforms and geospatial mapping tools have been subverted from more mundane uses, developing into new forums for organizing, imagining, and practicing more just futures. Yet, the centrality of infrastructure both as a means of digital extractivism and as a site for rupture and resistance demonstrates that the path toward new trajectories of e-scaping cannot be conceived as a virtual venture directed at designing alternative volatile geographies alone, but should always involve facing and challenging power in its everyday forms. By investigating the materiality of cyber colonialism, this paper explores the entanglement between imperial cartography and digital map-making which has reduced Palestinians and their space to a pixelated terra nullius, sanitized from the paradigmatic sites of the occupation and overwritten by a pseudo-biblical narrative that aims to legitimize the re-indigenization of the Zionist settlers. At the same time, it unpacks online processes of hyper-visibility through which Palestine suddenly materializes as a signifier for its dangerous nature, yet fragmented and enclaved by an intangible and discretional regime of im/mobility enforced through the neglect of permits and visas, as well as by the material constraints posed by apartheid roads, barriers, checkpoints, gates, and walls. Finally, it retraces the rationality of Israeli violence diluted through the technical means of built environment, infrastructure, machines and algorithms which, on one hand, contributes to the dedevelopment of Palestine and the censorship of its people, and on the other, normalizes Israel’s position in the region due to its perceived technological superiority vis-à-vis its neighboring counterparts.


Abstract: Compulsory teaching of Aotearoa New Zealand histories has potential to change how this country’s young people think and feel about themselves. However, achieving the new curriculum’s vision of a more thoughtful and responsible citizenry is unlikely to be straightforward. For Pākehā secondary school students, descendants of European settlers, the emphasis on te ao Māori could challenge a sense of centredness within the nation, and learning about colonial violence and injustice may be a source of emotional discomfort. For the new teaching framework to reach its transformative potential, these moments must be harnessed rather than allowed to block learning and engagement. This paper analyses three possible emotional responses of Pākehā students when monoculturalism is confronted and conflictual local histories are remembered: anxiety, guilt, and shame. While these emotions are usually framed as unnecessary or immobilising, I argue that they signal important starting points for Pākehā in responding to the complexity of colonialism and their complicity within it. Anxiety draws Pākehā attention to the constructed nature of the ‘New Zealander’ identity, and thus possibilities to de- and re-construct it, guilt pinpoints injustices that Pākehā must collectively address and monitor, and shame alerts Pākehā to their moral ideals. Yet, I also propose that if such feelings are to be harnessed constructively, they must be supplemented with a sense of mutual vulnerability and critical hope. Ultimately, this paper aims to show how discomforting emotions can either thwart or enrich learning and are therefore worth working with and through.