Being a Good Relative

Keywords:

• good relative,
• kinship,
• matriarchs,
• generosity

It is late December as I write this editorial for the second issue of 2025 and fourth overall of Pawaatamihk: Journal of Métis Thinkers. It is an exciting time for Métis-specific scholarship as Métis scholar Lucy Delgado recently edited a Métis-focused special issue for the Canadian Journal of Education, and we have just released the call for proposals to Mawachihitotaak (Let’s Get Together) Metis Studies Conference, to be held in Calgary, Alberta, from September 20–24, 2026. Métis people and voices are coming together in these spaces. Some, but not all. As I reflect on the past year, the notion of being a good relative has been on my mind. The academic life is full of choices. We set our own priorities for how we spend our time. So many responsibilities and requests compete for that time. Our values are often reflected in the choices we make. Often, but not always. Sometimes, even when we are doing our best to walk well in the world, we can fall short of the expectations we hold for ourselves. Importantly, we can give ourselves grace but also learn from these times to re-evaluate, re-prioritize, and grow. Thinking about the shambling work I have done with scholar Beth Cross at the University of the West of Scotland, we have asked colleagues to empty out their academic pockets and to think about something they hope others will take from their work. This request conjures thoughts around academics’ true passions and their legacies. What do you want to be known for in your research? How do you want to be remembered in your life? I am grateful to have strong Métis role models: aunties, sisters, cousins, and friends. These wise and caring Métis—mostly women and two-spirit folks, and occasionally men—show up for each other, co-establish spaces for Métis community to flourish, prioritize Métis research, and create opportunities for the next generations of Métis scholars. None of us is perfect, but I argue that we do all hold positions of power as academics and that possessing that power begs us to reflect on the kind of relatives we can be. A few years ago, Mi'kmaw scholar Marie Battiste spoke at Mount Royal University. She talked about how some Indigenous scholars get into the academy and put a wedge in the door to keep other Indigenous scholars from getting in, while others work to throw open that door to welcome and support those who are coming behind them. I have carried these words with me, from graduate student to postdoctoral scholar and then as an assistant and associate professor. I want to reduce the barriers for the Indigenous students who are coming after me. In conversation with Métis, Algonquin, and Irish scholar Sherry Farrell Racette in an elevator during one of the Rising Up conferences in Winnipeg in 2017 or 2018, she said that we cannot keep making change in the institution on the backs of our graduate students (personal communication). Her words rang all too true, as I watched fellow students having to fight through dubious ethics, inhospitable relationships in faculties, and academic processes that did not reflect their values and goals. Most of these battles should not fall on the backs of students. As Indigenous scholars who already hold positions in the institution, these are our fights to take up on their behalf. If we want the system to be safer and more supportive and nourishing for Indigenous students, we must make that change. Whether we like it or not, we are role models. The scholars coming after us see how we show up in the …