Unsettled and Striving: Ignorance isn’t bliss, it’s a privilege

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Today I am learning the complexities of navigating vast differences of values while still maintaining relationships.

I used to be what folks might call a “doormat.” I had no backbone, no self confidence, no ability to stand up for myself, and I agreed with everyone. This way of being crumbled within me when I decided to Google the term “residential school.” I did this about four years ago.

My ignorant naivety completely imploded with the shock and rage I felt. First, toward my parents, then toward the public school system, then towards society as a whole, all of whom had neglected to tell me the truth.

The weight of how immensely I had been lied to quite literally took the air out of my lungs.

Unsettled and Striving is a column exploring the thoughts of a young settler trying to become an ally (photo provided).

I started seeing everything around me under a completely different scope. I began choosing my words and making decisions from this new understanding of how the world I was a part of had come to be.

I viewed advertisements, consumerism, and wealth differently. I questioned the integrity of the people in the largest houses. I wondered whether they knew which Indigenous nation had lived and thrived for thousands of years on the plot of land where their house now stood. I wondered how they felt about the term “land ownership” in reference to land that had been stolen to be sold to them.

I began looking for any semblance of the Indigenous ways of knowing that had kept these territories lush and alive since time immemorial until colonization.

I sensed fear and discomfort cloud the room when I asked relatives if they knew what residential schools were. I took note as the grown-ups in my life failed to hold eye contact and swept the topic under the rug.

I began researching the climate crises, which led me to the oil and gas industries, which led me to myriad pipelines being forcibly asserted through the continent’s last untouched wilderness where Indigenous nations still held jurisdiction but were being ignored and silenced.

The juxtaposition I felt for the adults, the “elders” in my life, horrified me.

How could the people I thought of as the most wonderful and solid influences be aware of such things, and dismiss them, never speaking about them, nor taking any action to shed light on and ease these jarring and terrifying truths?

It’s been a completely life-altering couple of years. I’ve learned that just because someone is an “adult,” that does not mean they know what’s best.

The greatest strength we can cultivate is educating ourselves and developing our own informed opinions.

Don’t be afraid to question everything. It may be the most freeing thing you can do for yourself, your community, and this world.