Jillian Morris is Kanien’kehá:ka, turtle clan and band member of Six Nations of the Grand River Territory now living in Collingwood. She will be sharing stories and experience passed down through the oral traditions of Kanien’kehá:ka culture in her regular column published on CollingwoodToday.ca.
*****
Shé:kon sewakwé:kon, hello everyone.
How honoured I feel to greet you in the language of my ancestors. It is alive with the same love, beauty, and culture that it held for my people many generations ago.
That it lives on at all is a story of triumph. That I choose to attempt to carry on its legacy is a story of reclamation. That my grandchildren may know fluency in it is a story of hope. Stories within stories within stories.
My name is Jillian Morris, I am onkwehonwe, I am Haudenosaunee, I am Kanien’kehá:ka, turtle clan and band member of Six Nations of the Grand River Territory.
I lived in my community, on reserve, as a youth. I have lived in Collingwood for five years and in Simcoe County for 11 years. I have an undergraduate degree in Public Administration and Indigenous Governance.
I was a federal public servant for 13 years and resigned 2.5 years ago to commit my energy to building bridges through the relationship of story. I have been an activist for 15 years, fighting for inclusion, diversity, and representation. I work, I volunteer, I contribute, I observe, I listen, I learn, I lead, I write.
I am a storyteller, though the whispered echo of my inner critic still chants “imposter.” It is in good company, with “who do you think you are?” and “why should you be listened to?” They are the remnants of an unwanted but inherent battle for identity, purpose, and belonging.
I am the granddaughter of a generation that was fed inferiority. I am the daughter of a generation that saw safety in assimilation. I am of a generation scrubbing desperately at the dirt of colonization. I am raising a generation who holds their head and fist high. Stories within stories within stories.
I am all the things I’ve said and yet I wait to be challenged. The complex passed down by oppression and cultural genocide lingers. But I said I was committed to building bridges and so I pause and reset.
I am a proud Indigenous woman, and my culture is founded on oral tradition. Songs, prayer, legends, stories told and retold, heard and heard again. Repeated because they teach us, guide us, identify with us, help us understand our place among the natural world, and our responsibilities.
Stories that can transcend culture, race, and ethnicity because they are relatable human stories that connect us.
A story represents a link for our bridge, strengthening it with each one shared and allowing us to meet within the gaps.
And though we remain suspended, fear and uncertainty can be turned into curiosity and truth.
Our world views don’t need to collide, they can coexist and even complement one another.
I’ve had no choice in learning your ways, I humbly ask that you open yourself up to mine.
I invite you to meet me on the bridge.
I have stories within stories within stories.
