Some people might say I am a bit obsessed with the night sky. I have a lounge chair in my backyard that I affectionately refer to as my “stargazing chair.” Many years ago, I attended an astronomy program while on vacation in Yellowstone National Park with my parents. Astronomers from a university in Montana facilitated a stargazing event during the new moon. So many of us live in or near cities, that we forget how much our night sky is impacted by light pollution. Looking at the galaxy on a dark night in the middle of our first national park changed the way I have seen the stars ever since. Experiencing the stars this way reminded me of the vastness of the Universe and our connections within it. Last December I was fortunate enough to spend three weeks in Australia—a country I have been fascinated with since my childhood. There were so many incredible moments on my trip, but one of them that stood out for me was stargazing in Uluru. I was in central Australia, hours away from the nearest town. I felt an incredible sense of awe when I found myself lying on a bench, looking at a night sky that was foreign to me. I asked the Australian I was with to tell me about the constellations. I wanted to know—what do you see when you look up? Tell me the story of your stars. Over this past year, I have been especially interested in exploring the role of place and place-based knowledge in my work—as a Psychologist, an activist, and a White woman doing equity work with and on behalf of Black girls—as well as in my personal life. I love Pittsburgh and feel at home here. But it amazes me that when I moved here 10 years ago, no one questioned whether the knowledge I had could be applied to work in a city I had only been to for my job interview. There was an inherent assumption that three little letters after my name was sufficient. Knowledge I acquired from an academic system rooted in White European philosophical values is held in higher regard than knowledge that is place-based, indigenous, rooted in communities. This is the ongoing colonization project. When we talk about settler colonialism in the United States, we often focus on historical events. The ways my dad’s English ancestors displaced my mom’s Cherokee ancestors and stole their land. Even when we talk about the ongoing impacts of settler colonialism—intergenerational trauma, economic disenfranchisement, institutional and interpersonal racism against Black and Brown people—we often neglect to fully examine our own participation in the ongoing project of the colonization of knowledge. Back to our night sky. In the United States (and it turns out in Australia) many constellations are known by Greek and Roman names—connected to myths that have no connection to the land they shine above. There are, of course, indigenous names and stories of the stars. These names and stories matter—they convey important cultural messages, they teach lessons about navigation, they offer guidance on how to interact with plants and animals. Star knowledge connects us—to each other, to our ancestors, to the whole universe. In Canada, scientists are leading a project to relearn the star stories of indigenous peoples. Star knowledge wasn’t accidentally left behind. It has been suppressed, invalidated, and erased as part of the projects of cultural genocide and forced assimilation. The colonial project harms us all, cutting us off from deep, intuitive knowing rooted in wisdom of our communities. Decolonizing requires active resistance. It is the work of reclaiming our connection to place. To the land. To the sky. To each other. Britney G Brinkman, PhD. “The universe is both orderly and chaotic. We understand it to a point, and then there is mystery. And that is not linear or cumulative. There is no eventual elimination of mystery. There will always be mystery. And knowledge. Humans are both understandable and mysterious.” Comments are closed.
|
AboutEMPOWERTAINMENT aims to take a critical look at media in regards to how gender and women/girls are portrayed. From popular articles, videos, and websites, to original submissions, we want to not only examine the media and its relation to gender, but help shift it. Archives
November 2017
Categories |