LJ Idol Week #2: Tuesdays with Tenniel
Jul. 11th, 2024 09:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
My favourite therapist retired two years ago.
I was, of course, absolutely devastated. When you find a therapist that really fits, it's almost like you make a friend that knows all of the dark things about you ... and judges you in really healthy and helpful ways. Losing Tenniel suddenly was like losing a friend.
Therapy hasn't always worked for me. I find myself always lacking something. They may be spot-on when it comes to my OCD, but they're missing why that OCD ticks like it does. They are really good listeners, but we never move to the next step. And lastly, they don't understand what it's like to be mixed race. In my case, I'm mixed: Indigenous Canadian, and white.
I met Tenniel through a truly terrible job that sucked my soul dry. The one good thing about it was a mandatory anti-oppression training. This training basically followed any Diversity, Equity, Inclusion-type training, but it was taught by a vibrant Afro-Caribbean Canadian woman who I was drawn to instantly. Tenniel has the warmest smile. She also isn't afraid to call you on your bullshit. It isn't everyone who can answer questions that are generally considered taboo in the workplace with humour and wit, while still holding you to account.
I got lucky in that when I emailed her afterwards to thank her for the training, she mentioned she also offered one-on-one anti-oppressive therapy sessions on Tuesdays only. It was like we were meant to be together; well, in a therapeutic sense. (I'm happily married, and so is she.)
Being mixed sucks. I'll be real; it pretty much means you fit nowhere. I'm too white to be Indigenous for most folks, except when they need a token Native to do their land acknowledgements at events or they have an ignorant question about fry bread. I'm consistently pigeon-holed and scrutinized. Do my Ojibwe cheeks make me look more Native to you? What even is "Indigenous hair"? I haven't grown up on the rez, no. However, I am learning Ojibwe, and its soft and sweet vowels sound like a song through the tops of pine trees.
So, Tenniel and I started therapy. I told her how hard it is to even exist. I am denied culture by other Indigenous people, for fuck's sake. How the hell can I reclaim what was ripped from me and my family by the colonizing government of Canada when not even my own people are okay with the way I look and sound?
So every Tuesday, she broke it down, piece by piece. And I started to heal, piece by piece.
See, what Tenniel taught me was that it doesn't actually matter. Am I Indigenous? Do I serve my community, in whatever way I've been gifted to do? I told her the stories. My grandfather attended an Indian Day School. This is like a residential school, but you got to go home at night, if you were lucky. I told her that he refused to speak about being Native to any of my family members, except me. I told her it's an honour and a curse to be the only one in my entire family who is able to speak about things he taught me, because they simultaneously hate me and love me for being the knowledge keeper.
And being the token Native in every job is the same damn thing, because I'm condescended to about it, but hey, can you please have this version of the district land acknowledgement edited and submitted by five? Oh, and the white CEO is going to read it. You don't mind, do you?
And then Tenniel decided she needed a break from therapy. I mean, who could blame her? This is hard work. Listening to some white-passing lady complain about her identity is already hard. Now let's think about what else she does - listen to more people complain about how hard it is to be inclusive, period.
But I couldn't find anyone else after she left. We promised to write for big occasions; it's not ethical nor professional to continue contact with your therapist after you end your work with them. But we promised we'd do just that. In another life, Tenniel and I may just have been friends.
I have gone two years without therapy, and two years with the lessons and knowledge she's given me. I have carried it forward, through immigrating to the USA, to marrying into a white Republican family, to working in a school district that is over 70% children of colour, many of whom are Hispanic and Indigenous. I struggle with how to serve them and remain myself. How not to project. How to be the adult in their life that I didn't get to have, and how to be supportive.
And then last month, Tenniel sent out an email. She's accepting patients again. Was I interested in continuing therapy?
I sat at my computer, staring at her words, and then I smiled.
"How about next Tuesday?"
This has been an entry for
therealljidol. The prompt this week was "Sankofa", which is an African word from the Akan tribe in Ghana. The literal translation of the word and the symbol is “it is not taboo to fetch what is at risk of being left behind." Thank you for reading and voting!
I was, of course, absolutely devastated. When you find a therapist that really fits, it's almost like you make a friend that knows all of the dark things about you ... and judges you in really healthy and helpful ways. Losing Tenniel suddenly was like losing a friend.
Therapy hasn't always worked for me. I find myself always lacking something. They may be spot-on when it comes to my OCD, but they're missing why that OCD ticks like it does. They are really good listeners, but we never move to the next step. And lastly, they don't understand what it's like to be mixed race. In my case, I'm mixed: Indigenous Canadian, and white.
I met Tenniel through a truly terrible job that sucked my soul dry. The one good thing about it was a mandatory anti-oppression training. This training basically followed any Diversity, Equity, Inclusion-type training, but it was taught by a vibrant Afro-Caribbean Canadian woman who I was drawn to instantly. Tenniel has the warmest smile. She also isn't afraid to call you on your bullshit. It isn't everyone who can answer questions that are generally considered taboo in the workplace with humour and wit, while still holding you to account.
I got lucky in that when I emailed her afterwards to thank her for the training, she mentioned she also offered one-on-one anti-oppressive therapy sessions on Tuesdays only. It was like we were meant to be together; well, in a therapeutic sense. (I'm happily married, and so is she.)
Being mixed sucks. I'll be real; it pretty much means you fit nowhere. I'm too white to be Indigenous for most folks, except when they need a token Native to do their land acknowledgements at events or they have an ignorant question about fry bread. I'm consistently pigeon-holed and scrutinized. Do my Ojibwe cheeks make me look more Native to you? What even is "Indigenous hair"? I haven't grown up on the rez, no. However, I am learning Ojibwe, and its soft and sweet vowels sound like a song through the tops of pine trees.
So, Tenniel and I started therapy. I told her how hard it is to even exist. I am denied culture by other Indigenous people, for fuck's sake. How the hell can I reclaim what was ripped from me and my family by the colonizing government of Canada when not even my own people are okay with the way I look and sound?
So every Tuesday, she broke it down, piece by piece. And I started to heal, piece by piece.
See, what Tenniel taught me was that it doesn't actually matter. Am I Indigenous? Do I serve my community, in whatever way I've been gifted to do? I told her the stories. My grandfather attended an Indian Day School. This is like a residential school, but you got to go home at night, if you were lucky. I told her that he refused to speak about being Native to any of my family members, except me. I told her it's an honour and a curse to be the only one in my entire family who is able to speak about things he taught me, because they simultaneously hate me and love me for being the knowledge keeper.
And being the token Native in every job is the same damn thing, because I'm condescended to about it, but hey, can you please have this version of the district land acknowledgement edited and submitted by five? Oh, and the white CEO is going to read it. You don't mind, do you?
And then Tenniel decided she needed a break from therapy. I mean, who could blame her? This is hard work. Listening to some white-passing lady complain about her identity is already hard. Now let's think about what else she does - listen to more people complain about how hard it is to be inclusive, period.
But I couldn't find anyone else after she left. We promised to write for big occasions; it's not ethical nor professional to continue contact with your therapist after you end your work with them. But we promised we'd do just that. In another life, Tenniel and I may just have been friends.
I have gone two years without therapy, and two years with the lessons and knowledge she's given me. I have carried it forward, through immigrating to the USA, to marrying into a white Republican family, to working in a school district that is over 70% children of colour, many of whom are Hispanic and Indigenous. I struggle with how to serve them and remain myself. How not to project. How to be the adult in their life that I didn't get to have, and how to be supportive.
And then last month, Tenniel sent out an email. She's accepting patients again. Was I interested in continuing therapy?
I sat at my computer, staring at her words, and then I smiled.
"How about next Tuesday?"
This has been an entry for
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
no subject
Date: 2024-07-12 06:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-13 02:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-12 07:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-13 02:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-12 08:14 am (UTC)Can relate to the alienation of marrying into a Republican family, but probably not on the same level, of course.
Thanks so much for sharing your journey!
no subject
Date: 2024-07-13 02:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-12 08:45 am (UTC)I had no idea that most indigenous people think you're "too white". I know some Dakota women in Minnesota that are white passing, even my best friend there is part Native but white-passing, and I just think of them as indigenous or mixed.
I am sure the Objibwe language is beautiful. I know only a few Dakota words but I have heard the Dakota language spoken and that also is beautiful.
no subject
Date: 2024-07-13 02:29 pm (UTC)Yes, I mean, some Indigenous people have no problem with me and see me as Indigenous before I've opened my mouth (we do have some features as Ojibwes that make it very easy to know who belongs to the group or not), and some who cling to the old ways of trying to protect what they see is theirs, and any kind of "outsider", even if you're born into the nation, is anathema to them.
I have had mostly white friends tell me "You'll always be white to me, no matter what you identify as", which made me see red, tbh.
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Date: 2024-07-14 07:31 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2024-07-12 12:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-13 02:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-12 06:01 pm (UTC)I love your description of the Ojibwe language.
no subject
Date: 2024-07-13 02:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-12 07:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-13 02:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-12 07:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-13 02:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-12 08:51 pm (UTC)Have you read William Kent Krueger's Cork O'Connor series? The main character is part Ojibwe and part Irish and says he is too white for the Ojibwe and too Ojibwe for the whites.
no subject
Date: 2024-07-12 11:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-13 01:08 am (UTC)As someone who previously sort of dismissed your identity, my apologies, I am still full of poison but there was even more then.
Love and light.
no subject
Date: 2024-07-13 02:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-13 03:34 am (UTC)Your ending was great, it's fabulous when you're able to reconnect with people you previously thought lost to you forever.
Dan
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Date: 2024-07-13 02:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-13 11:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-15 02:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-14 07:14 am (UTC)I'm glad you found someone who could help you work through that history and those feelings, and gladder still that she's available again.
no subject
Date: 2024-07-15 02:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-15 08:15 pm (UTC)Given that, are your in-laws at least a little more humanized? And which state did you wind up moving to?
no subject
Date: 2024-07-14 08:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-15 02:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-14 09:13 pm (UTC)And I'm so glad she's up to working with you again.
Great, uplifting post. Thank you so much for sharing.
no subject
Date: 2024-07-16 06:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-14 09:26 pm (UTC)When you find a therapist that really fits, it's almost like you make a friend that knows all of the dark things about you ... and judges you in really healthy and helpful ways.
So. Relatable.
I spent almost four years actively looking for a therapist who could treat my weird unicorn mental health condition but when I finally found her it was amazing for the above reason even more than for her expertise with my specific issues (which I also appreciate, obviously). Like, apparently in my 20+ years of on and off therapy I’ve never had a therapist who was a proper fit or actually attuned to me? Lesson learned.
no subject
Date: 2024-07-16 06:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-15 04:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-16 06:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-16 02:24 pm (UTC)And as somebody who is also mixed, your words strike a chord with me.
no subject
Date: 2024-07-16 06:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-16 02:30 pm (UTC)I have never found a good therapist, and spent years with a bad one. I know I need therapy but it leaves me hesitant. Hopefully I find someone that clicks like you did.
no subject
Date: 2024-07-16 06:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-16 06:33 pm (UTC)- Erulisse (one L)
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Date: 2024-07-18 11:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-24 12:25 pm (UTC)Thoughts
Date: 2024-09-06 04:03 am (UTC)It can. It can also give you a wider perspective instead of being stuck in one culture's One True Way.
The best description of my race came from a black friend in college: "Yeah, you can pass for white -- until you open your mouth."
>> I'll be real; it pretty much means you fit nowhere. <<
Often true.
>> I'm too white to be Indigenous for most folks, except when they need a token Native to do their land acknowledgements at events or they have an ignorant question about fry bread.<<
*snort* So give them one of the original recipes made with cornmeal or masa and sunflower oil or bear fat instead of wheat flour. They make entertaining faces.
>> I'm consistently pigeon-holed and scrutinized. Do my Ojibwe cheeks make me look more Native to you? <<
0_o
>> What even is "Indigenous hair"? <<
Usually they mean straight or barely wavy black or dark brown, that being typical in most tribal heritage. But some tribes have a bit different background. Ojibwe is typically in the straight black/brown range ... except that's one of the tribes that dealt with a lot of mostly French trappers, so sometimes you get lighter shades or more curl, and it varies from one tribal community to another how people feel about that. Some embrace it. Some are vicious. If you're particularly unlucky, they do both and every powwow turns into a bitchfest.
You might like to explore African-American hair politics. Different details, but a lot of the same issues. They have some great material on how to love the hair you have.
>> I haven't grown up on the rez, no. However, I am learning Ojibwe, and its soft and sweet vowels sound like a song through the tops of pine trees.<<
Go you! Ojibwe is a lovely language.
>> I am denied culture by other Indigenous people, for fuck's sake. How the hell can I reclaim what was ripped from me and my family by the colonizing government of Canada when not even my own people are okay with the way I look and sound? <<
I'd go with learning Ojibwe. That way, when they say you're "not Indian enough" you can argue back in Ojibwe ... which many them won't know. It'll make them look really stupid.
... I still want to learn how to say "If you want to speak English, go back to England" in either Lakota or Cherokee.
>> Am I Indigenous? Do I serve my community, in whatever way I've been gifted to do? <<
Much better perspective.
>> I told her that he refused to speak about being Native to any of my family members, except me. I told her it's an honour and a curse to be the only one in my entire family who is able to speak about things he taught me, because they simultaneously hate me and love me for being the knowledge keeper.<<
Huh. That seems to be a pattern; I've heard similar from other folks. My guess is that some elders were picking the best listener or otherwise most receptive person in their family.
>> And being the token Native in every job is the same damn thing, because I'm condescended to about it, but hey, can you please have this version of the district land acknowledgement edited and submitted by five? Oh, and the white CEO is going to read it. You don't mind, do you? <<
0_o I learned very young to say "Do your own fucking homework." If people aren't nice to me, I won't do favors for them. So if people aren't respectful of your heritage in general, they shouldn't get to call on you for heritage work. They don't get to have their cake and eat it too.
Tokenism sucks. The best way to avoid it is to try keeping people at least in pairs, so nobody's stuck being the only one of whatever. You get a wider perspective that way.
>> working in a school district that is over 70% children of colour, many of whom are Hispanic and Indigenous. I struggle with how to serve them and remain myself. How not to project. How to be the adult in their life that I didn't get to have, and how to be supportive.<<
For a while, I designed and graded coursework for adult remedial education in prison. Yep, the guys were almost all brown or black. So I told them to write about things from their experience, and I gave them things to read from Robert Hayden, Joy Harjo, Lorna Dee Cervantes, etc. Somebody would always try to tease me by writing how to hotwire a car. I'd grade it and hand it back. Most of them were just there for something to do. But one or two each semester would just catch fire with it -- they'd never seen anything by writers of color, never realized that people could write about the things that mattered to them. It remains the most seditious thing I've done in this life. Nothing scares the shit out of white people like a black man with a book in his hands.
So listen to your students. What are their interests and concerns? Then try to find some materials that relate to that, preferably by writers of color. Talk about people of color you admire so the kids know they can grow up to be someone successful. Teach multicultural skills, you need those in a mixed group and not everyone learns them by osmosis. Teach peacework and activism and problem-solving. Just because the deck is stacked doesn't mean you can't get your hands on it and reshuffle the thing. And just be there for them, as a person of mixed heritage, embracing your whole self. They need that. You're in a position to do great things that probably won't be obvious for a decade or two.