A Short History of the Blockade: Giant Beavers, Diplomacy, and Regeneration in Nishnaabewin

by Leanne Betasamosake Simpson

In A Short History of the Blockade, award-winning writer Leanne Betasamosake Simpson uses Michi Saagiig Nishnaabeg stories, storytelling aesthetics, and practices to explore the generative nature of Indigenous blockades through our relative, the beaver—or in Nishnaabemowin, Amik. Moving through genres, shifting through time, amikwag stories become a lens for the life-giving possibilities of dams and the world-building possibilities of blockades, deepening our understanding of Indigenous resistance, as both a negation and an affirmation. Widely recognized as one of the most compelling Indigenous voices of her generation, Simpson’s work breaks open the intersections between politics, story, and song, bringing audiences into a rich and layered world of sound, light, and sovereign creativity. A Short History of the Blockade reveals how the practice of telling stories is also a culture of listening, “a thinking through together,” and ultimately, like the dam or the blockade, an affirmation of life.

Genres: Nonfiction, Indigenous, Canada, History, Politics, School, Philosophy

88 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 2021

About the author

Leanne Betasamosake Simpson is a renowned Michi Saagiig Nishnaabeg scholar, writer and artist, who has been widely recognized as one of the most compelling Indigenous voices of her generation. Her work breaks open the intersections between politics, story and song—bringing audiences into a rich and layered world of sound, light, and sovereign creativity.

Working for two decades as an independent scholar using Nishnaabeg intellectual practices, Leanne has lectured and taught extensively at universities across Canada and the United States and has twenty years experience with Indigenous land based education. She holds a PhD from the University of Manitoba, and teaches at the Dechinta Centre for Research & Learning in Denendeh.

Leanne is the author of six previous books, including This Accident of Being Lost, which won the MacEwan University Book of the Year; was a finalist for the Rogers Writers’ Trust Fiction Prize and the Trillium Book Award; was long listed for CBC Canada Reads; and was named a best book of the year by the Globe and Mail, the National Post, and Quill & Quire. Her latest book, As We Have Always Done: Indigenous Freedom Through Radical Resistance was published by the University of Minnesota Press in 2017, and was awarded Best Subsequent Book by the Native American and Indigenous Studies Association. Her new novel Noopiming: The Cure for White Ladies is was release this fall by the House of Anansi Press.

Leanne is also a musician combining poetry, storytelling, song-writing and performance in collaboration with musicians to create unique spoken songs and soundscapes. Leanne's third record, The Theory of Ice will be released in 2021.


Leanne is a member of Alderville First Nation.

Reviews

[Rachel Ashera Rosen · Rating 5 out of 5]

You should automatically read everything Leanne Betasamosake Simpson writes because it's obviously going to shift your worldview in some crucial way. This one is no exception. It's a luminous exploration of the idea of blockade—both as an ecosystem sustaining practice by beavers and as an ecosystem sustaining practice by Indigenous humans. Or, as Simpson puts it, both a negation and an affirmation. It's a short read but I wanted to savour every word, as she explores in poetry, story, and impassioned confrontation the story of beavers and Indigenous land defence. It also has moments of humour and delight. This is one of the most life-affirming books I've read in a long time by one of the most exciting thinkers of our time.

[JC · Rating 5 out of 5]

A slim but beautiful little book that someone gave to me for my birthday 🥰

I had the chance to see Leanne Simpson speak in-person with Robyn Maynard at Congress this year, at an event hosted by the Indigenous Literary Studies Association. I am a big fan!

This book is just the published form of the Kreisel Lecture that Leanne Simpson delivered in 2020, which you can listen to freely online.

My research interests involve the history of watermills and and the significant environmental impacts of mill dams, so it was actually really fascinating to encounter an Anishinaabeg reflection on the beaver dam as a means of thinking about disruptive political tactics like blockades and the fostering of worlds where others can thrive. And perhaps how one can distinguish these dams from the sort of mill and hydro dams that brought local salmon species to the point of extinction in Lake Ontario.

I recently read a chapter by Emma Spary (in a book called Cultures of Natural History, edited by Nicholas Jardine, Emma Spary, and James Secord) that mentioned in passing the idea among French intellectuals in the 18th century that beavers had souls because they practiced engineering in some sense (a weird way to come to that conclusion):

“In the early eighteenth century, French academicians gathered evidence proving that animals had souls, in order to combat the Cartesian notion of the beast-machine; the beaver’s ability to build dams, for example, was highly prized evidence for the existence of its soul.”

Likewise, I still recall reading Anna Tsing’s comments about beavers in The Mushroom at the End of the World:

“Making worlds is not limited to humans. We know that beavers reshape streams as they make dams, canals, and lodges; in fact, all organisms make ecological living places, altering earth, air, and water. Without the ability to make workable living arrangements, species would die out. In the process, each organism changes everyone’s world. Bacteria made our oxygen atmosphere, and plants help maintain it. Plants live on land because fungi made soil by digesting rocks. As these examples suggest, world-making projects can overlap, allowing room for more than one species. Humans, too, have always been involved in multispecies world making. Fire was a tool for early humans not just to cook but also to burn the landscape, encouraging edible bulbs and grasses that attracted animals for hunting. Humans shape multispecies worlds when our living arrangements make room for other species. This is not just a matter of crops, livestock, and pets. Pines, with their associated fungal partners, often flourish in landscapes burned by humans; pines and fungi work together to take advantage of bright open spaces and exposed mineral soils. Humans, pines, and fungi make living arrangements simultaneously for themselves and for others: multispecies worlds.”

It’s similar to an insight that Marxist scientists have emphasized, including Richard Lewontin who said in one of his Massey lectures:

“Every living organism is in a constant process of changing the world in which it lives by taking up materials and putting out others. Every act of consumption is also an act of production. And every act of production is an act of consumption. When we consume food, we produce not only gases but solid waste products that are in turn the materials for consumption of some other organism. A consequence of the universality of environmental change induced by the life activity of organisms is that every organism is both producing and destroying the conditions of its existence.”

It is therefore important to ask what are the particular sets of relations (for instance under capitalism) that have created the extreme form of environmental change that we are confronted with today. What sorts of changes, disruptions, blockades, dams are life-giving forms of solidarity, and which are death-dealing forms of oppression?

I’ll finish with these words by Leanne Simpson:

“…Doug Williams, the Curve Lake Elder Madeline and I both work with, credits the construction of the Trent Severn Waterway as a devastating and destructive blow to Michi Saagiig Nishnaabeg life, leading to the extermination of salmon and eels from our territory, flooded burial grounds and camp sites, the decline of fish and animal relatives, the near destruction of minomiin—the cornerstone of our food system—and an overwhelming increase in settlers.
Two dams. Two very different outcomes.
The Trent Severn Waterway, a negation.
The beaver dam, both a negation and an affirmation.”

“Amikwag build lodges, canals, and dams. And, of course, the longest beaver dam in the world is located north of here in Treaty 8 and measures 850 metres long.
Amikwag build dams.
Dams that create deep pools and channels that don’t freeze, creating winter worlds for their fish relatives. Deep pools and channels that drought-proof the landscape. Dams that make wetlands full of moose, deer and elk food, cooling
stations, places to hide calves, and muck to keep the flies away. Dams that open spaces in the canopy so sunlight increases, making warm and shallow aquatic habitat around the edges of the pond for amphibians and insects. Dams that create plunge pools on the downstream side for juvenile fish, gravel for spawning, and homes and food for birds. And who is the first back after a fire to start the regeneration? Amikwag.
Amik is a world builder.
Amik is the one that brings the water.
Amik is the one that brings forth more life.
Amik is the one that works continuously with water
and land and animal and plant nations and consent and diplomacy to create worlds, to create shared worlds.
Prior to contact with white people, it is estimated that Mikinaakong was home to between 60 and 400 million beavers. That is three to five beavers for every kilometre of stream or river. That is, a beaver in nearly every headwater stream in North America. Biologists call the beaver a keystone species—a species so important to an ecosystem that without it the ecosystem would collapse. A species that continually creates habitats and food sources for
other beings. Families that filter and purify water. Clans that replenish the soil with nutrients. Communities that manage spring floods and water temperatures. A nation that continually gives.
A beaver dam, a blockade”

“In reality, behind the barricades, whether the blockades are enacted on Anishinaabeg land at Grassy Narrows, Dakota land at Standing Rock at the port of Vancouver, or at
Unist’ot’ten, blockades are rich sites of Indigenous life, of a radical resurgence.
In the spaces behind the barricades, you’ll find parents with children. You’ll find Elders. You’ll encounter ceremony, sacred fires, and language learning. Art making. Singing. Drumming. Storytelling.”

[kanzad · Rating 3 out of 5]

read this super fast so i didn’t fully focus, but it was a cool explanation of indigenous peoples relationship w animals, more specifically beavers

[Daniel · Rating 4 out of 5]

Need to think on this one for a while.

[Talynn English · Rating 5 out of 5]

leanne betosamosake simpson’s writing is compelling, animated, and has profoundly shaped my understandings of world-building that is rooted in land and just relationship.

reaching beyond critiques of settler colonialism and its consequent infrastructure, simpson draws upon Nishnaabeg stories of the beaver and their brilliance. i was especially drawn to the story of the woman who married the beaver – a reciprocal love story that is sustained across time and space.

blockades not only imagine futures, but practice them and bring them into being. it is an affirmation of life worth living and the creation of political systems that reflect such life.

[Julia · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book has forever changed my perspective and relationship to dams, infrastructure, and storytelling.

[Kab · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5

[Catherine · Rating 4 out of 5]

It's been a while since I finished it, but I think my memory will forever be influenced by hearing LBS read it herself. As always with her writing, it makes me think (in a good way!) and often laugh - her wit is very sharp and dry, but also has moments of gentleness that I appreciate.

[Shelley Âû · Rating 5 out of 5]

I like how the author took the stories and put a modern twist on them and spoke about issues that really everyone is facing. Short read but so worth it

[Emily · Rating 5 out of 5]

Everything I've ever read by Leanne Betasamosake Simpson has been deeply insightful and impactful; she's a prolific and hugely influential Indigenous (Michi Saagiig Nishnaabeg) scholar, artist, and activist. In A Short History of the Blockade, Simpson writes of the parallels between Indigenous blockades and beaver dams. "Indigenous blockades are indeed a refusal of the dominant political and economic systems of Canada. They are a refusal to accept erasure, banishment, disappearance, and death from our homelands. They are indeed an amplification and centring of Indigenous political economies—Indigenous forms of governance, economy, production, and exchange. They are indeed a resurgence of social and political practices, ethics and knowledge systems, and in this way they are a generative refusal" (9). After framing Indigenous blockades, she shares four stories of beavers and their blockades (we often call them dams). "Amik [the beaver] is the one that works continuously with water and land and animal and plant nations and consent and diplomacy to create worlds, to create shared worlds" (14). Simpson focuses on the idea of beaver dams as "both a negation and an affirmation" (19). That is, beaver dams alter waterways, create and destroy lakes and ponds, even change fluvial geomorphology. Beaver dams negate the waterway that existed before the dam. At the same time, beavers aren't really destroyers of rivers; on the contrary, their dams create new aquatic and terrestrial habitats for all kinds of plants, fish, insects, and mammals. They are ecosystem engineers who affirm other species and ways of life by "creat[ing] shared worlds" (14). Simpson's stories about beavers are rooted in Indigenous oral tradition, but modernized (in absolutely hilarious ways) to reflect how Indigenous cultures have been affected by things like the internet and gummy worms but remain rooted in centuries of tradition and particular ways of understanding and interacting with the world. Simpson's point is that Indigenous blockades (we often call them illegal blockages of pipelines, mines, hydro-dams, forest clearcuts, and more) are just like beaver dams: rooted in multi-species lifegiving practices, imbued with deep knowledge and wisdom, and sites of embodied collective practice that engender "political, intellectual, and spiritual engagement" (10). Both a negation and an affirmation. I love how Simpson frames and reframes the relationships between Indigenous peoples and the rest of the natural world, between beavers and humans, between negation and affirmation. I love how she illustrates the relationships between stories, theory, and collective embodiment. What a gift.

[Jane Mulkewich · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a short book (part of a lecture series actually) but it took me a long time to read it, re-read it, digest it, and post this review - which is not so much a review but extracting a few lines to tell you what this book is about, to encourage you to read it. Leanne Betasamosake Simpson tells four Nishnaabeg beaver stories, and at the end she summarizes the lessons you can take from those stories. She relates these beaver stories to the indigenous blockades we see across the country: "Indigenous blockades are indeed a refusal of the dominant political and economic systems of Canada. They are a refusal to accept erasure, banishment, disappearance, and death from our homelands."

"In the spaces behind the barricades, you’ll find parents with children. You’ll find Elders. You’ll encounter ceremony, sacred fires, and language learning. Art making. Singing. Drumming. Storytelling. You’ll find an ethic of care as harvesters and cooks engage in a bush economy to feed the frontlines alongside spiritual leaders, nurses, and medics taking care of the people. You will notice a mobilized network of support and solidarity extending well beyond the barricades."

"We have some choices. We can stand beside the pile of sticks blocking the flow of the river, and complain about inconveniences, or we can sit beside the pond and witness the beavers’ life-giving brilliance."

"Our current world is on fire, warming and melting at an unprecedented rate. The whole world should be standing behind the Wet’suwet’en hereditary chiefs and their clans, paying attention to the world they are refusing, observing how life behind the blockades renews a different vision, and witnessing the negation, the affirmation, and the generative refusal of blockades and those precious beaver dams."

[Felix Belanger · Rating 5 out of 5]

Un coup de coeur. L'introduction (qui fait la moitié de ce petit livre) est du grand art. C'est une éducation sensible et poétique de l'éthique autochtone. Il y a un effort de mise en dialogue avec les lexiques coloniaux (gouvernance, économie, diplomatie, etc) qui rendent cette éducation parfaitement intelligible, plus facilement applicable pour les Blancs. Du moins, c'est mon ressenti en tant que Blanc qui trouve l'éthique autochtone inspirante et nécessaire, mais parfois un peu difficile à mettre en relation avec mon quotidien.

C'est une éducation qui passe par la mise en récit du refus et de la mise en pratique de l'art du savoir, avec le symbole de la barricade, du castor et des barrages. Ce sont des récits qui incarnent à la fois une critique du colonialisme, du capitalisme et du patriarcat, mais aussi et surtout des récits qui affirment et génèrent de la vie.

C'est une éthique de l'amour, du soin, de l'humilité, de la connaissance, à travers la perspective autochtone. Je recommande avec enthousiasme!

[Sarah Flynn · Rating 4 out of 5]

As usual, Leanne Betasmoke Sino son’s work here is beautiful, thoughtful, and expansive. She draws on all ways of thinking to make her writing touch more points at once: poetry, prose, mystery, memory…the reader can’t rest or coast while reading this book or they will miss something critical.
She uses four stories about the beaver to ask people to think about blockades (and by default the issues that surround blockades) differently than we are normally asked to think about them in our capitalist, production obsessed society. We challenged to think of them as exercises in practicing wisdom and establishing relations of sharing and consent, rather than as inconvenient roadblocks to our “way of life.” She calls them worldbuilding, and makes a very strong case for them being exactly that.

[Karis Dimas-Lehndorf · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is another book that was originally a lecture and I highly recommend giving this a read or looking up the lecture because Leanne is so compelling. This text looks at Indigenous resistance and turtle stories with a particular focus on Edmonton/Treaty 6 as a place. Resistance is tough, painful, and tiring, but so necessary. Leanne inspires hope for future resistance by looking back at those who came before and by turning to the natural world to see how blockades can be life giving. I loved this text so much.

[Noah_Wasa Mata · Rating 5 out of 5]

Really well written and easy to understand, I will for sure read more of her books. Here are some quotes from the book that I know will stay with me :

« North America is founded upon two genocides, Black People and Indigenous people » p.7

« Two hundred years of making beavers into accessories led to their near extermination, and now beavers are mostly known as a nuisance and an inconvenience » p. 11

« Reciprocity isn’t about giving back what you want, it is about giving back what is needed of what has been asked of you. » p. 53

[Ian Johnston · Rating 4 out of 5]

First book for my seminar. I’ve read other pieces by Leanne Simpson before, but this was the first full monograph by her that I’ve read. I think she has a really distinct and beautiful style of writing that I find so engaging. This was really creative and powerful, I’m excited to discuss it. Feeling real appreciative of my liberal arts education as of now 🙏🏻

[Isobel · Rating 5 out of 5]

ok i know i've basically only given five star reviews so far this year but i must do it at least once more. this is very short, but very good. really beautiful and compelling - i don't spend enough time thinking about the importance of imagining and building better futures, not just critiquing the systems that currently exist, so i'm very appreciative for this reminder to do that work as well

[Kai · Rating 4 out of 5]

4 short stories about beavers that together evidence the kinds of relationships of care and sustenance, refusal and affirmation, or what i'd call negation of the negation that appear at Indigenous blockades.

[Naomi Ruth · Rating 5 out of 5]

I loved this book. I want to read everything by this author. So much to think about. So emotive and provocative and full of hope and a call to holding oneself accountable and to learn and think and do better.

[Katherine England · Rating 5 out of 5]

Beautiful, memorable, smart, too short!

[Jbondandrews · Rating 5 out of 5]

I really enjoy reading Betasamosake Simpson's books. The four beaver stories were very inspiring.

[Ariel Aransas · Rating 5 out of 5]

What a stunning meditation on what it means not to consent!

[Maya Alexis · Rating 4 out of 5]

borrowed from sara - 4/5 stars, beautiful fun and profound stories

[itsthetrees · Rating 5 out of 5]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Jbp7...

[.☘︎ ݁˖ sreyaa ｡°‧ · Rating 5 out of 5]

yk how there are some books that you read and you leave feeling happier and more hopeful.. this is one of those

i love leanne simpson and i cant wait to read more of her books! she's such a great storyteller and i love how she emphasizes how stories are integral to the futures of indigenous peoples and to their resistance. i read this book in class and started sharing the stories that richard told me when i was in new mexico three summers ago and i genuinely was about to start crying. simpson reminds me that stories are the means through which we remember the people we love and that we all have a responsibility to share our stories - of our experiences with native and indigenous people - and that they are the ways in which we create indigenous futures.

i can and read this book over and over again, and i have so much more to say (which i will return to :) ...

[Aly · Rating 4 out of 5]

Si vous cherchez une lecture qui sort des sentiers battus, les livres de cette auteure-artiste Michi Saagiig Nishnaabeg sont un bon choix. On est toujours quelque part entre la fiction, l'histoire, l'essai, les contes et la poésie. Ça peut sembler étourdissant dit comme ça mais le mélange fait qu'on ne s'ennuie pas. Mon coup de coeur va à Cartographie De L'amour Décolonial mais j'ai aussi beaucoup apprécié celui-ci qui fait un parallèle entre les mouvements autochtones et les barrages de castors. Appuyé par des citations d'autres personnes (auteur.es, journalistes...) et pimenté de 4 contes qui ont été saupoudré d'une touche de modernité, c'est 111 pages d'originalité.

Écriture inclusive incluse 😉.

[Sarah Miles · Rating 5 out of 5]

Betasamosake Simpson nous raconte quatre histoire d'Amik, le grand castor, adapté pour nos temps, qui démontre l'utilité et l'instruction qui nous offre les barricades. A travers ces histoire, elle nous offres l'opportunité de repenser l'importance - literal et symbolique - des barricades dans la résistance anticoloniale.

[Félicie · Rating 5 out of 5]

Belle réflexion, ironiquement barricadée dans le savoir scolarisé...

[Eva · Rating 3 out of 5]

Très court, se lit plutôt rapidement (malgré le temps que j’y ai mis haha!), intéressants tissages entre les parcours de castors et la défense des droits autochtones d’aujourd’hui!