The more time I spend scrolling social media, the more I wonder when we collectively decided that being Indigenous requires an interrogation panel.
Apparently before I can have an opinion, share my experiences, attend a powwow, write about Indigenous issues, or simply exist online, I need to submit my status card, a DNA sample, a family tree, three references, and a notarized letter from my ancestors.
I wish I had a dollar for every time someone showed up on my blog or social media ready to explain why I'm not Indigenous enough.
"You don't have status."
"Your mom is Dutch."
"You don't know where you came from."
"Stay in your own lane."
"You're not Native enough."
I've heard it all.
What's wild to me is that some of the loudest conversations happening in Indigenous spaces right now aren't about healing, language revitalization, protecting our land, supporting our youth, addressing addictions, or helping our people survive. They're about deciding who gets to sit at the table and who doesn't.
We've become so busy measuring each other's blood that we've forgotten to measure our character.
Every Elder I've ever been blessed to learn from taught me some version of the same thing: follow your heart. Walk in a good way. Your spirit matters.
Not once did an Elder pull out a calculator and start doing blood quantum math.
Colonialism spent generations categorizing us, dividing us, legislating our identities, determining who counted and who didn't. It separated families. It erased names. It disconnected people from communities, languages, and culture.
Yet somehow we've convinced ourselves that the path to decolonization is continuing the paperwork.
Make that make sense.
The Seven Grandfather Teachings speak of love, respect, humility, honesty, wisdom, bravery, and truth. I don't remember the one that says, "Question everyone's ancestry until proven worthy."
I don't remember the teaching that says a status card determines a person's spirit.
I don't remember the teaching that says European blood magically cancels Indigenous blood, especially considering exactly how so many Indigenous families ended up carrying European ancestry in the first place.
Identity is complicated.
History is complicated.
Families are complicated.
Humanity shouldn't be.
And if I'm being completely honest, this constant gatekeeping is one of the reasons I've found myself pulling away from ceremony, from circles, from powwows, from the Red Road, and from spaces that once felt like home.
Not because I don't love my people.
Not because I don't value the teachings.
Not because I don't know who I am.
But because I'm tired.
Tired of feeling like I need to defend my existence to people who should be standing beside me.
Tired of watching people weaponize identity against one another.
Tired of seeing lateral violence dressed up as cultural protection.
There is a difference between exposing genuine frauds who knowingly exploit Indigenous identity for personal gain and treating every Indigenous person like they're standing trial.
We've gotten so good at hunting for Pretendians that sometimes it feels like we're hunting each other.
And maybe that's the saddest part.
Because while we're busy policing who's Indigenous enough, the things actually threatening our communities continue untouched.
Maybe it's time we spent less energy examining each other's bloodlines and more energy examining our own hearts.
Just a thought.
But what do I know? Apparently I still haven't submitted the required paperwork.
🪶🫖 𝓙𝓾𝓼𝓽𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓵𝓣𝓮𝓪
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