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nîtisânak
How do you honour blood and chosen kin with equal care? A groundbreaking memoir spanning nations, prairie punk scenes, and queer love stories, Jas M. Morgan’s nîtisânak is woven around grief over the loss of their mother. It also explores despair and healing through community and family, and being torn apart by the same. Using cyclical narrative techniques and drawing on Morgan’s Cree, Saulteaux, and Métis ancestral teachings, this work offers a compelling perspective on the connections that must be broken and the ones that heal.
200 pages, Paperback
First published September 30, 2018
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 52 reviews
January 21, 2019
This book, a treatise on kinship as explored and defined by this Cree-Metis-Salteaux two spirit academic disappointed me in ways I didn’t expect. One of the major issues with anti-blackness on the prairies is non-black folks using AAVE in ways that are both mocking and desperate for a legitmacy that is projected upon black urban bodies by outsiders. In this book there was the grating and innaccurate prairie approximation of AAVE that undergirded the entire text, and just highlighted for me the deep unchallenged anti-blackness of the academy/publishing for just letting this fly. The text talks about the pitfalls of being so wrapped up in a personal struggle that one can perpetrate other oppressions without considering it, and then Nixon goes ahead and falls right into that pit. Anyways. My other issue is the way that the narrative is so deeply tied to academia - I think it’s a source of unneeded pain to seek legitimacy there - and consequently, a pain to try to transcend the stilted language of academia in an otherwise deeply raw text. This book was so close to my experience of life as a brown person on the prairies, that I would have felt nostalgia about the punk scene, and the winters, and struggling against the white supremacist capitalist patriarchy (I see you bell hooks), had the very language of the book not excluded me. I will say, that the messages about facing intolerance in communities of birth and adoption and choice, of the fucking horror show that is colonialism and the Indigenous experience in Canada, and about queerness and Indigeniety and belonging were profound, but alas, the casual anti-blackness was the gatekeeper to a club I wasn’t invited to.
April 12, 2019
A fabulous book by this two-spirit Cree, Saulteaux, and Metis writer. A genre-defying memoir about "blood and chosen kin." Nixon writes about queer love, the unexpected death of their white adoptive mother, being a prairie punk, the complex intersections of queer and Indigenous identities, living in different parts of the prairies and the world, and more. It's funny, sad, clever, and biting. Beautiful poetic writing and startling realizations. Full review on my blog!
December 12, 2022
Very much worth your time. Lots of good reviews on here already on this, so go check them out.
"If love seems hard for us plains NDNs it’s because they stole the words out of our mouths, the ones that describe our relationships to one another through action-based intentions, rather than name and claim with nouns—colonial capitalism infected our sacred words."
"In the prairies, The Truth is a yt man. The Truth is whatever the yt man says, and whatever truth is said by the yt man is the ruling law of the holy wild wild (prairie) west."
"If love seems hard for us plains NDNs it’s because they stole the words out of our mouths, the ones that describe our relationships to one another through action-based intentions, rather than name and claim with nouns—colonial capitalism infected our sacred words."
"In the prairies, The Truth is a yt man. The Truth is whatever the yt man says, and whatever truth is said by the yt man is the ruling law of the holy wild wild (prairie) west."
June 28, 2021
This is the June pick for the 2021 Erin and Dani's Book Club in Instagram, where we are reading an indigenous memoir every month.
I read a revised edition - the author originally had used AAVE and that was understandably offensive; I read this knowing that had happened. I feel them working deliberately with other language in this memoir - they use high academic vocabulary too, but I can feel how they are punk about it, or some might say queering the language, sometimes using it to contextualize what they are saying, sometimes using it to draw attention to the contrast or ridiculousness. They use abbreviations like NDN and LDN that have a similar effect.
They write about queer identity in indigenous spaces and YT spaces - navigating communities that don't see them as wholly belonging, so they have to decide exactly how and when they do. There is a navigation of multiple identities, not just one tribe and not just one lineage -the author is Cree-Métis-Saulteaux - something that for a long time was moved away from to be more like the colonizers (trying to use the author's language as much as possible to communicate the experience of the book.) They make a pretty powerful comparison between the forced schooling that we have heard so much about lately because of the children's bodies found at them (and this history is in the author's family too) with the foster care system, which removes children from their homes but leaves them to fend for themselves at 18.
Next month in this same book club, we are reading Heart Berries, a novel I've already read. While that author is very trauma-forward, this author refuses to give details on those experiences, knowing already that you as their reader is most likely not from their community and therefore you do not deserve to have those experiences performed for you. This leaves the reader with a bit of a messy experience, decontextualized, even though you can guess at some of it and probably not be too far off.
More of the focus is on the author and their own relationships, both romantic and larger community; the punk scene and the art scenes and even a queer festival in Tennessee that I'd never heard of. I am looking forward to the discussion because I'm not sure I absorbed it all, the way my brain traveled through the book. I also think I might know the Kai mentioned in passing, another author who published with the same publisher? That was an unexpected connection.
I read a revised edition - the author originally had used AAVE and that was understandably offensive; I read this knowing that had happened. I feel them working deliberately with other language in this memoir - they use high academic vocabulary too, but I can feel how they are punk about it, or some might say queering the language, sometimes using it to contextualize what they are saying, sometimes using it to draw attention to the contrast or ridiculousness. They use abbreviations like NDN and LDN that have a similar effect.
They write about queer identity in indigenous spaces and YT spaces - navigating communities that don't see them as wholly belonging, so they have to decide exactly how and when they do. There is a navigation of multiple identities, not just one tribe and not just one lineage -the author is Cree-Métis-Saulteaux - something that for a long time was moved away from to be more like the colonizers (trying to use the author's language as much as possible to communicate the experience of the book.) They make a pretty powerful comparison between the forced schooling that we have heard so much about lately because of the children's bodies found at them (and this history is in the author's family too) with the foster care system, which removes children from their homes but leaves them to fend for themselves at 18.
Next month in this same book club, we are reading Heart Berries, a novel I've already read. While that author is very trauma-forward, this author refuses to give details on those experiences, knowing already that you as their reader is most likely not from their community and therefore you do not deserve to have those experiences performed for you. This leaves the reader with a bit of a messy experience, decontextualized, even though you can guess at some of it and probably not be too far off.
More of the focus is on the author and their own relationships, both romantic and larger community; the punk scene and the art scenes and even a queer festival in Tennessee that I'd never heard of. I am looking forward to the discussion because I'm not sure I absorbed it all, the way my brain traveled through the book. I also think I might know the Kai mentioned in passing, another author who published with the same publisher? That was an unexpected connection.
July 18, 2024
Jas M. Morgan writes:
"When I do eventually write about my body, at least that I can find within my journals, it's in March 2006 when I was nineteen years old.
VISION 3: It is 12 a.m. before the drugs kick in, we make a fashionably late entrance, and it is hard finding a pickup. We get two whites for thirty, a decent price for the party we are at. All bad lighting and bad remixes. The high comes from the ground and enters slowly upward, like a heat rising. Recognizing the blitz, I immediately situate myself on the dance floor and let the music speak. I recognize the usual rush of an E high: the temperature change, the focus on texture and feel. And all at once, I come to life.
So it was that MDMA, and queer love, forced me into my body: my mouth, and my sweaty skin pressed against the rest of the crowd. And it was the dance floor that facilitated queer love. Every weekend, without fail, my young queer kin and I would situate ourselves on dance floors of the prairie rave scene, in an abandoned warehouse or a rented community centre, chasing feeling. We had all been dissociated from our bodies too long, told they were sick with fem mannerisms and thick thighs that were just a little too plentiful, too greedy, for public space. As queer kin, we gifted each other the ability to name desires I had been told I wasn't worthy of, and let me believe I'm worthy of love, worthy to take up space, and worthy of being fucked, in the small-town queer communities we birthed at those seedy warehouse raves. Standing in the way of control, you live your life, survive the only way that you know.
Was it Hollinghurst who said the gay novel is dead, even though he should have just said that the yt dude gay novel is dead?"
"When I do eventually write about my body, at least that I can find within my journals, it's in March 2006 when I was nineteen years old.
VISION 3: It is 12 a.m. before the drugs kick in, we make a fashionably late entrance, and it is hard finding a pickup. We get two whites for thirty, a decent price for the party we are at. All bad lighting and bad remixes. The high comes from the ground and enters slowly upward, like a heat rising. Recognizing the blitz, I immediately situate myself on the dance floor and let the music speak. I recognize the usual rush of an E high: the temperature change, the focus on texture and feel. And all at once, I come to life.
So it was that MDMA, and queer love, forced me into my body: my mouth, and my sweaty skin pressed against the rest of the crowd. And it was the dance floor that facilitated queer love. Every weekend, without fail, my young queer kin and I would situate ourselves on dance floors of the prairie rave scene, in an abandoned warehouse or a rented community centre, chasing feeling. We had all been dissociated from our bodies too long, told they were sick with fem mannerisms and thick thighs that were just a little too plentiful, too greedy, for public space. As queer kin, we gifted each other the ability to name desires I had been told I wasn't worthy of, and let me believe I'm worthy of love, worthy to take up space, and worthy of being fucked, in the small-town queer communities we birthed at those seedy warehouse raves. Standing in the way of control, you live your life, survive the only way that you know.
Was it Hollinghurst who said the gay novel is dead, even though he should have just said that the yt dude gay novel is dead?"
May 24, 2019
I don't know how to express my distaste for this book in a way that doesn't come off as narrow-minded (perhaps I'm just more narrow-minded than I thought??? *X-Files theme plays*).
This book is like a cross between an academic article and a text message—the structure just didn't work for me. Your brain has to be ON if you want to appreciate and understand nîtisânak to its full potential (which is more of a critique of my own laziness than the book itself). The book wasn't even that long! Only 200ish half-full pages, yet I found myself slogging through the dense academic tone and Nixon's unrelenting disdain for pretty much everyone. Don't get me wrong, they have plenty of reason to be angry. They had a pretty fucked up life, and they don't owe me their pain, their consolation, or a pat on the back for reading; however, I found myself growing tired of the constant jabs really quickly. It's hard to warm up to a writer when you feel consistently condescended to.
I'm sure there are tons of people out there who would absolutely love nîtisânak—as they should! I don't want to underscore it's worth as a valuable text. It just wasn't meant for me, and ultimately, wasn't a text I particularly enjoyed either.
This book is like a cross between an academic article and a text message—the structure just didn't work for me. Your brain has to be ON if you want to appreciate and understand nîtisânak to its full potential (which is more of a critique of my own laziness than the book itself). The book wasn't even that long! Only 200ish half-full pages, yet I found myself slogging through the dense academic tone and Nixon's unrelenting disdain for pretty much everyone. Don't get me wrong, they have plenty of reason to be angry. They had a pretty fucked up life, and they don't owe me their pain, their consolation, or a pat on the back for reading; however, I found myself growing tired of the constant jabs really quickly. It's hard to warm up to a writer when you feel consistently condescended to.
I'm sure there are tons of people out there who would absolutely love nîtisânak—as they should! I don't want to underscore it's worth as a valuable text. It just wasn't meant for me, and ultimately, wasn't a text I particularly enjoyed either.
January 2, 2019
"In the prairies, The Truth is a yt man. The Truth is whatever the yt man says, and whatever truth is said by the yt man is the ruling law of the holy wild wild (prairie) west."
I choose Nîtisânak by Lindsay Nixon as my first read of 2019 - and I have no regrets. This slim memoir, sounding like a poetic riot grrrl hymn, touches upon many topics and offers a very compelling read. Nixon writes about their family, Cree, Saulteaux, Métis, and white, the loss of their mother - and the reconning with their difficult, at times abusive relationship, the prairie punk scene, femininity, chosen kin, and the promise of queer love and queer scene (and the pitfalls). Told in different vignettes which draw equally on ancestral teachings and pop culture, Nixon looks at all kinds of relationships and how these are interwoven with larger power dynamics (colonialism, sexism, ableism etc). On less than 200 pages this book delves into North American history, counter- and subculture analysis, concepts of gender and desire. The writing is evocative, punchy, tender. A book which will stay with me.
I choose Nîtisânak by Lindsay Nixon as my first read of 2019 - and I have no regrets. This slim memoir, sounding like a poetic riot grrrl hymn, touches upon many topics and offers a very compelling read. Nixon writes about their family, Cree, Saulteaux, Métis, and white, the loss of their mother - and the reconning with their difficult, at times abusive relationship, the prairie punk scene, femininity, chosen kin, and the promise of queer love and queer scene (and the pitfalls). Told in different vignettes which draw equally on ancestral teachings and pop culture, Nixon looks at all kinds of relationships and how these are interwoven with larger power dynamics (colonialism, sexism, ableism etc). On less than 200 pages this book delves into North American history, counter- and subculture analysis, concepts of gender and desire. The writing is evocative, punchy, tender. A book which will stay with me.
April 10, 2019
I know this book isn't written for me, and I know that I can't fathom so many of the experiences in it, but if I'm going to read things to learn from, If I'm going to be permeable and take in real writing that really gives a fuck and doesn't pull punches and constantly grounds things in love and forgiveness and learning, then this is the best thing I could've read. I don't really know how to entice anyone to read this book, other than by telling you it is likely the best non-fiction book I have ever read. This is the first thing to ever make me reallllly miss the prairies—Rae Spoon helped me get my foot in the door for forgiving the prairies, but Nixon just catches something that about the "gay as fuk" wind that Spoon doesn't directly address. Please read this. It's not trauma porn, and it's not pitiable or anything like that. It's just so vital. And it's funny. And it's loving. It's so loving. This is a gift.
August 25, 2021
I'm really glad I read this compelling memoir this June. Thanks @erinanddanisbookclub for putting this book on my radar!
This reminded me of the power of a person's story when told authentically, told with confidence, talent, and care. Once again, an Indigenous author shows white readers that Indigenous peoples are not a monolith, not your trauma porn (as Morgan writes), not here to reproduce caricatures of the "Vanishing Ind*an", but a multifaceted group of individuals of hundreds of nations, languages, genders, sexualities, worldviews, walks of life. This is not similar to any Indigenous memoir I've ever read, it is wholly unique and individual. Highly recommend.
If you're interested in reading this memoir, consider getting a newer edition if you're able to since the earlier copies had AAVE appropriation which was removed in the next edition.
Two Spirit people face bigger hurtles than more to be published and those works that are are not appreciated as they deserve. If you are a fan of LGBTQIA+ lit (keeping in mind some Two Spirit people do not identify as LGBTQIA+), parent/child relationships in memoirs, pop culture writing, etc. THIS IS FOR YOU.
content warnings for: AAVE appropriation in earlier editions (edited out of my edition and accompanied with an apology), descriptions of racism, homophobia/transphobia/prejudice against Two-Spirit people, references to true cases of violence against Indigenous people, mention of sexual assault.
This reminded me of the power of a person's story when told authentically, told with confidence, talent, and care. Once again, an Indigenous author shows white readers that Indigenous peoples are not a monolith, not your trauma porn (as Morgan writes), not here to reproduce caricatures of the "Vanishing Ind*an", but a multifaceted group of individuals of hundreds of nations, languages, genders, sexualities, worldviews, walks of life. This is not similar to any Indigenous memoir I've ever read, it is wholly unique and individual. Highly recommend.
If you're interested in reading this memoir, consider getting a newer edition if you're able to since the earlier copies had AAVE appropriation which was removed in the next edition.
Two Spirit people face bigger hurtles than more to be published and those works that are are not appreciated as they deserve. If you are a fan of LGBTQIA+ lit (keeping in mind some Two Spirit people do not identify as LGBTQIA+), parent/child relationships in memoirs, pop culture writing, etc. THIS IS FOR YOU.
content warnings for: AAVE appropriation in earlier editions (edited out of my edition and accompanied with an apology), descriptions of racism, homophobia/transphobia/prejudice against Two-Spirit people, references to true cases of violence against Indigenous people, mention of sexual assault.
Read
May 8, 2019(Complicated feelings; maybe more later)
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Source of the book: Birthday present from Elizabeth M. Thank you!!!!
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Source of the book: Birthday present from Elizabeth M. Thank you!!!!
May 13, 2025
C'était difficile de saisir le fil conducteur au début, mais plus on avance, plus ça devient clair et plus les propos prennent en puissance.
Je ne comprenais pas plusieurs des références, et ça rendait certains chapitres difficiles à suivre.
Sommes toutes, j'ai bien aimé, mais je me suis un peu forcé·e à le terminer.
Je ne comprenais pas plusieurs des références, et ça rendait certains chapitres difficiles à suivre.
Sommes toutes, j'ai bien aimé, mais je me suis un peu forcé·e à le terminer.
June 21, 2020
fucking majestic ass shit. I love Nixon’s voice, the style they imbue this with, how it clips along with so much confidence and wit and intelligence. actually, along with cason sharpe, I think Nixon would be an amazing screenwriter.
Read
August 6, 2019This is a lot to take in. There is a lot to process within Nixon's story and I appreciate her sharing it.
November 15, 2019
I love the risks this memoir takes. 7/10
June 15, 2020
Essential reading
January 12, 2019
This book wasn’t written for me. And that’s just fine.
It was written for queer prairie NDNs still trying to find their path.
It was written for young prairie kids who feel torn between the sky and their dreams.
It was written for anyone who discovered themselves at a punk show while making out with a beautiful gender-queer mosh partner.
It was written for those who understand more deeply than I ever could how poisoned a colonized mind can be.
However, I am so glad I read it.
It was written for queer prairie NDNs still trying to find their path.
It was written for young prairie kids who feel torn between the sky and their dreams.
It was written for anyone who discovered themselves at a punk show while making out with a beautiful gender-queer mosh partner.
It was written for those who understand more deeply than I ever could how poisoned a colonized mind can be.
However, I am so glad I read it.
October 25, 2019
This memoir is a collection of short essays by a non-binary NDN rom the prairies. They talk about their childhood, their mother's death and their relationships. It's gutsy, irreverent, tough and true. They travel through Regina, Edmonton and Montreal, and I loved the way they describe the cities. This is a great, gutsy book.
June 10, 2021
I had a difficult time with the form of Jas M. Morgan's memoir, which is more of an essay collection that's deeply personal and raw. I appreciate their voice and words but felt so tossed about reading this one.
April 19, 2021
Wow, what a book! This was a poetic, political and heartfelt memoir, and a quite humbling read. And did I mention, punk as hell ;). The ideas of Indigenous women and queer folk taking up space were extremely potent and powerful, given the alarming rates of violence these people have faced, and continue to face. I really enjoyed reading about how Lindsay felt a visceral connection to the prairie punk scene, and how the aggressive music allowed them to mosh, move, take up the space they deserve, while negotiating the white masculinist undertones of the genre.
I also appreciated how they did not romanticize their first queer prairie relationship, but exposed readers to the toxicity and gaslighting that occurred in this specific romance, and then cautioned readers that violence against queer women can happen at the hands of queer women as well, which exposes the deep-rooted misogyny and racism still looming in our society. In the context of a small rural town in the prairies of Canada, the idea of two queer people coming together and falling in love against all prejudices seems like an epic love tale, and perhaps people in this situation would try to make the romance work at all costs- maybe because they feel they have limited options, or from past traumas of being stigmatized, they may believe they are not worthy of being loved. Lindsay respectfully telling their story in its reality can show readers they do not need to stay in a toxic relationship in order to feel loved or to feel accepted by their community.
Finally, the stylistic choices of certain words were incredibly poignant and spoke to the pain of centuries of cololonialism. Canada was written as "KKKanada" to connote its white supremacy, and white was always abbreviated as "yt". Since white settlers constantly step on Indigenous space and bodies, perhaps, Lindsay did not want to grant them extra space in their book. Overall, this was a powerful story, and even though I may not be the intended audience, I really loved and appreciated Lindsay speaking their truth.
I also appreciated how they did not romanticize their first queer prairie relationship, but exposed readers to the toxicity and gaslighting that occurred in this specific romance, and then cautioned readers that violence against queer women can happen at the hands of queer women as well, which exposes the deep-rooted misogyny and racism still looming in our society. In the context of a small rural town in the prairies of Canada, the idea of two queer people coming together and falling in love against all prejudices seems like an epic love tale, and perhaps people in this situation would try to make the romance work at all costs- maybe because they feel they have limited options, or from past traumas of being stigmatized, they may believe they are not worthy of being loved. Lindsay respectfully telling their story in its reality can show readers they do not need to stay in a toxic relationship in order to feel loved or to feel accepted by their community.
Finally, the stylistic choices of certain words were incredibly poignant and spoke to the pain of centuries of cololonialism. Canada was written as "KKKanada" to connote its white supremacy, and white was always abbreviated as "yt". Since white settlers constantly step on Indigenous space and bodies, perhaps, Lindsay did not want to grant them extra space in their book. Overall, this was a powerful story, and even though I may not be the intended audience, I really loved and appreciated Lindsay speaking their truth.
June 7, 2021
NOTE: The author has changed their name since the printing of this edition to Jas M. Morgan
Nîtisânak per my google searches means sibling, kin or relations in Cree (please correct me if I'm wrong and I will adjust) which is an apt title for the book, not only because relationships center this work, but also because the author drops you into their world with few context clues and very little explanation for the outsider's comfort. I will admit that I spent a lot of time checking the end notes or googling my way through this book, and I liked it. I liked having to do some work, instead of having my hand held.
I've read a number of reviews that call this queer punk rock, and I can see the comparison. This a piece of creative nonfiction art as much as it is a book. Varying in structure from chapter to chapter, the author plays with their subject matter, daring the reader to keep up, and hurling their pain, loss, exploration, experimentation, hopes and dreams at the reader. The tone alternates from reflective, meditative and somber to visceral and sometimes hot rage.
The language of this book is extremely contemporary and often counter culture. Focusing their energies through the use of language from the queer and indigenous experiences. From KKKanada to bois, the use of language is as much the heart of their art as the relationships (from birth, adoption, and chosen) that tie the work together.
I found myself most engaged in the shorter pieces, Morgan has a unique ability to pack a punch into very short sections of exposition. From explicit references to sex, drugs, community, places, and people Morgan's ability to gut punch the reader is uniquely their own.
CW: sexual violence, emotional abuse, adoption, addiction, foster care, misgendering, homophobia, transphobia, anti-indigenous rhetoric, police violence, racism, racial slurs, drug use, loss especially parental loss.
Nîtisânak per my google searches means sibling, kin or relations in Cree (please correct me if I'm wrong and I will adjust) which is an apt title for the book, not only because relationships center this work, but also because the author drops you into their world with few context clues and very little explanation for the outsider's comfort. I will admit that I spent a lot of time checking the end notes or googling my way through this book, and I liked it. I liked having to do some work, instead of having my hand held.
I've read a number of reviews that call this queer punk rock, and I can see the comparison. This a piece of creative nonfiction art as much as it is a book. Varying in structure from chapter to chapter, the author plays with their subject matter, daring the reader to keep up, and hurling their pain, loss, exploration, experimentation, hopes and dreams at the reader. The tone alternates from reflective, meditative and somber to visceral and sometimes hot rage.
The language of this book is extremely contemporary and often counter culture. Focusing their energies through the use of language from the queer and indigenous experiences. From KKKanada to bois, the use of language is as much the heart of their art as the relationships (from birth, adoption, and chosen) that tie the work together.
I found myself most engaged in the shorter pieces, Morgan has a unique ability to pack a punch into very short sections of exposition. From explicit references to sex, drugs, community, places, and people Morgan's ability to gut punch the reader is uniquely their own.
CW: sexual violence, emotional abuse, adoption, addiction, foster care, misgendering, homophobia, transphobia, anti-indigenous rhetoric, police violence, racism, racial slurs, drug use, loss especially parental loss.
December 9, 2022
Review Catchup Post #2: Nîtisânak by Jas M. Morgan
I read this for the Skoden Readathon and I really loved it. This is a memoir in essays by a queer two-spirit Cree-Métis-Saulteaux individual. I think this hit home for me because it features a lot of themes and topics that are pertinent to me right now.
One of the recurring discussion is the meaning of living space in one's life and the general queer migration to cities. As I'm settling into my first hopefully semipermanent apartment after moving yearly for the past 5yrs and developing my own relationship with the space around me, it was very interesting to see someone else on the same trajectory and how they navigated it as well as the sheer love expressed for the plains (I've never been to anywhere that could be called a plain and now I'm very tempted)
I also found the discussion about the complex familial relationships very touching as my own evolves. It was inspiring to see someone in a similar position have a wonderful balance of grace and love for their family (blood and otherwise) but being able to hold space for needed criticism.
I also appreciated that this book checked my privilege multiple times. I enjoyed the discussion on how yt queer people still have advantages even if they're part of a marginalized community and I appreciated the use of relevant words without translation.
Finally, I was really glad I read this right after Moon of the Crusted Snow by Waubgeshig Rice because in my mind this was to some degree a response. Both dealt with res life on some capacity but in Moon of the Crusted Snow, it is a very masculine focused and to some degree idealized version. Meanwhile this memoir discusses some of the less glamorous sides - especially with regards to queerness and 2S identity.
I read this for the Skoden Readathon and I really loved it. This is a memoir in essays by a queer two-spirit Cree-Métis-Saulteaux individual. I think this hit home for me because it features a lot of themes and topics that are pertinent to me right now.
One of the recurring discussion is the meaning of living space in one's life and the general queer migration to cities. As I'm settling into my first hopefully semipermanent apartment after moving yearly for the past 5yrs and developing my own relationship with the space around me, it was very interesting to see someone else on the same trajectory and how they navigated it as well as the sheer love expressed for the plains (I've never been to anywhere that could be called a plain and now I'm very tempted)
I also found the discussion about the complex familial relationships very touching as my own evolves. It was inspiring to see someone in a similar position have a wonderful balance of grace and love for their family (blood and otherwise) but being able to hold space for needed criticism.
I also appreciated that this book checked my privilege multiple times. I enjoyed the discussion on how yt queer people still have advantages even if they're part of a marginalized community and I appreciated the use of relevant words without translation.
Finally, I was really glad I read this right after Moon of the Crusted Snow by Waubgeshig Rice because in my mind this was to some degree a response. Both dealt with res life on some capacity but in Moon of the Crusted Snow, it is a very masculine focused and to some degree idealized version. Meanwhile this memoir discusses some of the less glamorous sides - especially with regards to queerness and 2S identity.
February 27, 2019
Lindsay Nixon’s Nitisanak is a memoir unlike any of I’ve ever read. Equally citing academics, pop songs, books, recorded statements, theorists, and movies, the collection is reminiscent of Leanne Betasamosake Simpson’s As We Have Always Done, in that it honours knowledge in all kinds of different, valid, non-hierarchical forms. Nixon explores kinship, with both blood and chosen family, love, grief, and healing in essays about prairie punk scenes, generations of family, and queerness. This book is tender, vulnerable, and fierce; refusing to be trauma-porn to white settler optics and in that refusal becoming a love song or prayer for all their “NDN Bb girls.”
January 13, 2020
A wildly generous offering into the painful and persistent obstacles that plague the author as she resists and perseveres through the inherent racism, sexism and classism that most Canadians shun as our legacy. A careful and thoughtful use of characters expose the train wreck of societal constructs facing residential school survivors, their children, children of the sixties scoop, young mothers in poverty, and the overall horror of missing and murdered indigenous women and girls. This is bookmarked by an undeniable will to survival and a desire to resist these unrelenting constructs. Nixon is a powerhouse and a light.
July 30, 2021
This is a proud, unabashedly queer and indigenous reckoning. There is commentary in here on the politics of indigenous bodies, on gender, on whiteness, on queer family, on queer violence, on parental relationships, on adoption, on institutions, etc.
This was profoundly moving. While this is a memoir of a life lived mostly in Canada (KKKanada) there are a lot of similarities with injustices and structures in America. I am thankful to have encountered the nuances of identities I had not previously. I am thankful to have some language and vocabulary of queer and indigenous spaces to better understand further stories I encounter. This memoir was a joy to read.
This was profoundly moving. While this is a memoir of a life lived mostly in Canada (KKKanada) there are a lot of similarities with injustices and structures in America. I am thankful to have encountered the nuances of identities I had not previously. I am thankful to have some language and vocabulary of queer and indigenous spaces to better understand further stories I encounter. This memoir was a joy to read.
May 3, 2019
A whirlwind journey to finding family/kin/relations, and the many different forms that can take in a complex geography of settler colonialism, queer spaces, cities, and Indigenous territories. Nixon's voice is honest and engaging, sometimes directly confronting the reader, jostling us, waking us up (their trauma is not for our consumption). Taking us around Turtle Island, across the Atlantic, and back, this memoir returns to themes of loss and love, recreating a life within constraints and opportunities and an endless engagement with the world.
October 3, 2024
Je suis tombée sur ce livre un peu au hasard dans une libraire de Montréal, alors que je cherchais à en savoir plus sur les personnes d'origine autochtone et leur vie aujourd'hui au Canada. C'est un texte personnel et qui ne se veut pas éducatif, mais qui m'a tout de même beaucoup appris et plu. C'est aussi un texte en colère contre les dominations qui subsistent, et que j'ai beaucoup ressenties lors de ce séjour.
February 5, 2019
I loved Lindsay Nixon's memoir. I loved the way Nixon situated themselves within communities, colonialism, histories, queer relations, kin, rural prairie upbringings, city homes, punk scenes, toxic masculinities, and supportive loves. Nixon is rad and wonderful, and I'm so glad I get to read their work.
July 1, 2019
I was very impressed by Lindsay's memoir, however I still have a hard time with some of the negativity towards certain groups that can be found within the text. Not that I need to agree with someone 100% in order to enjoy their memoir. I highly recommend that you check out this intelligent and interesting new voice in literature.
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June 13, 2021Still thinking about this one, not sure where I'll land. At times it felt so academic, and at other times I really appreciated the Indigenous and non-Western explorations of queerness and gender. I was probably not in the best mindset to read it; as this is one that requires a lot of attention. I'm glad I own it so I can return to it.
February 27, 2019
Lindsay Nixon’s Nitisanak is a brilliant memoir. It's so important to me to see work that draws from non-academic knowledge, and views that knowledge as valid. We need more queer, Indigenous lit like Nitisanak. Thank you for this book.
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