Indigenous Poetics in Canada

10. “Bubbling Like a Beating Heart”: Reflections on Nishnaabeg Poetic and Narrative Consciousness

10 “Bubbling Like a Beating Heart”: Reflections on Nishnaabeg Poetic and Narrative Consciousness Leanne Simpson The river that runs through the city I live in is called the Otonabee. The river runs through Kina Kitchi Nishnaabeg-ogamin1 from the Trent River (which we call Zaagaatay Igiwan because it is shallow)2 into Rice Lake (known to us as Pimaadashkodeyong, which means the “moving across the prairie” and refers to the practice of burning to maintain the tall grass prairie beside the lake).3 In and around Peterborough (Nogojiwananong, the place at the rapids), the name “Otonabee” is spoken every day by those of us living in the city—for example, the Best Western Otonabee Inn, Otonabee Meat Packers, Otonabee Animal Hospital, and so on. Thousands of times a day, the word “Otonabee” is spoken by people who have no idea what the word means, and who are ignorant of both the history of this Michi Saagiik Nishnaabeg land they live on, and our contemporary Michi Saagiik Nishnaabeg presence . This process is repeated all over Canada every day, and represents the disappearance of Indigenous presence. If you look up “Otanabee River” in Wikipedia, the site will tell you that the river is called Odoonabii-Ziibi or the Tulibee River.4 But there is no reference to where that translation comes from. I asked my Elder Gdigaa Migizi, from Waawshkigaamang, what the word “Otonabee” means in Nishnaabemwin.5 He began by telling me that the first part means “heart” from the word ode, and that the word odemgat means boiling water because when water boils, it looks like the bubbling or beating of a heart. He then explained that Otonabee is an anglicized version of Odenabi, meaning the river that beats like a heart in reference to the bubbling and boiling waters of the rapids along the river.6 107 108 L E A N N E S I M P S O N After I left Doug’s house, I began to think what the word ode means to me as a Michi Saagiik Nishnaabeg woman. I thought of how Odena means “city” in our language, or the place where the hearts gather. I thought about how Ode’min Giizis is June or the Moon when the heartberries (strawberries) are ready. I pictured those odeminan or heartberries and their runners connecting the plants in a web of interrelationships, much like cities. I then remembered that according to Nishnaabeg Elder Basil Johnston, Odaenauh refers to nation, so our conceptualization of nation is an interconnected web of hearts.7 On a deeper philosophical level, that heart knowledge represents our emotional intelligence, an intelligence that traditionally was balanced with physical, intellectual, and spiritual intelligence to create a fully embodied way of being in the world. Emotional intelligence or presence on its own, however, is a vital force in Nishnaabeg consciousness because, according to Nishnaabeg Elder Jim Dumont, our word for truth, (o)debwewin, literally means “the sound of the heart” (with “we” being the stem for “sound”).8 Truth for Nishnaabeg people, then, is a personal concept based in love and the raw resonance of emotion. And this is just the beginning of the cultural meaning around ode. There are songs, teachings, stories, and ceremonial meanings that deepen these basic understandings. My point in writing this is that the word “Otonabee” is heard or read differently by Canadians and Nishnaabeg peoples. When I hear or read the word “Otonabee,” I think “Odenabe” and I am immediately connected to a both a physical place within my territory and a space where my culture communicates a multi-layered and nuanced meaning that is largely unseen and unrecognized by non-Indigenous peoples. I am pulled into an Nishnaabeg presence, a decolonized and decolonizing space where my cultural understandings flourish. I am connected to Nishnaabeg philosophy and our vast body of oral storytelling. I am pulled into my Michi Saagiik Nishnaabeg lands and the beating-heart river that runs through it. My consciousness as a Michi Saagiik Nishnaabeg woman, my poetics as a storyteller and a writer, come from the land because I am the land. Nishnaabemwin seamlessly joins my body to the body of my first mother; it links my beating heart to the beating river that flows through my city. Just as the word “odenabe” pulls me inward, I want my writing and my creative work to do the same thing for others—to pull people into my consciousness as a Michi Saagiik Nishnaabeg woman. I...