Beadwork Reflection – Three Poems

an other education   you cannot call this lecture, my pens stay capped, my pages blank, my books are closed but there is learning here the beads tumble along strings, my fingers stumble, pricked by needle tip, unfamiliar patterns, as we follow shadowed footsteps and there is learning here my skin feels the slide of…

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The Craft of Metaphor

I poke my finger. Gently, I press it to see where I have punctured it yet again and a bead of blood tickles my skin. Shallow. I slide my needle through five green beads, five red. My nose nearly touches the cloth as I force the metal and fabric into conversation. This small item is…

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I Know you are but What Am I? Reclaiming Narratives of Cultural and Individual Identity

With a course as interdisciplinary and multi-voiced as this, it can be difficult to connect the dots between these lectures and construct the intentional metanarrative latent in the masterful curation of these activities into a single “Course”. One theme that seems apparent in the speakers we’ve seen—from The Pass System documentary, narrated by indigenous peoples…

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A letter from the Managing Editor

Blog: noun (s). A child that feeds on all your time, energy, and resources, but will never love you back (or pay into your retirement fund). I accepted Joel’s offhanded invitation to take over the blog in the academic counselling waiting room two years ago on a whim.  I thought to myself, “I’m in FIMS;…

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