Decolonized Urban Commoning

ANT366: Web Publication Project. Prof. Jesook Song. April 11, 2023.

“The Windigo is the legendary monster of our Anishinaabe people, the villain of a tale told on freezing nights in the north woods. You can feel it lurking behind you, a being in the shape of an outsized man, ten feet tall, with frost-white hair hanging from its shaking body. With arms like tree trunks, feet as big as snowshoes, it travels easily through the blizzards of the hungry time, stalking us. The hideous stench of its carrion breath poisons the clean scent of snow as it pants behind us. Yellow fangs hang from its mouth that is raw where it has chewed off its lips from hunger. Most telling of all, its heart is made of ice. Windigo stories were told around the fire to scare children into safe behavior lest this Ojibwe boogeyman make a meal of them. Or worse. This monster is no bear or howling wolf, no natural beast. Windigos are not born, they are made. The Windigo is a human being who has become a cannibal monster. Its bite will transform victims into cannibals too…"

"The more a Windigo eats, the more ravenous it becomes. It shrieks with its craving, its mind a torture of unmet want. Consumed by consumption, it lays waste to humankind… But the Windigo is more than just a mythic monster intended to frighten children. Creation stories offer a glimpse into the worldview of a people, of how they understand themselves, their place in the world, and the ideals to which they aspire. Likewise, the collective fears and deepest values of a people are also seen in the visage of the monsters they create. Born of our fears and our failings, Windigo is the name for that within us which cares more for its own survival than for anything else.”

Excerpts from Braiding Sweetgrass (Kimmerer 2013, 304-5)

“Windigos are not born, they are made.” (Kimmerer 2013, 304)

In modernity, the palpability of the Windigo is becoming evermore realized. Empowered by capitalist consumption patterns and greed, the modern Windigo has taken a new form. They’ve adapted to this new way of life quite easily. Their blood lust is replaced by money lust and has spread from ‘sea to shining sea’. Before the Windigo stalked the forests; now they live among us.  Previously, the beastly incarnations of the Windigo gave attention to themselves and people could hide, or fight back. Now, the lust has spread, there are more of them and they are incognito. They wear suits and sit behind desks in bougie offices, directing the ways that death and destruction can be brought upon the lands, all for the production of profit. Leaning back in their black leather chairs, they count their stacks of cash, careful not to show their manicured talons. Pockets lined and belly full, they eat cake while others suffer. Imprinted upon the lands, the mark of the Windigo is never far. It can be seen on buildings, above in the sky and everywhere around. Grass and trees are replaced by concrete. Birds are made of metal and they no longer sing but boom across the sky. The mark of selfishness is reinforced with every piece of litter strewn across the ground.

When the colonizers came, the Windigo expansion flourished. The ideologies and presence of the white man laid the foundation for this growth. They too shared the hunger of the Windigo and they helped to diminish the only force capable of fighting the power of the Windigo. With thousands of years of experience fighting this monster, the Indigenous of Turtle Island are the only form of resistance against the Windigo. For centuries since the white man arrived and attempted to assimilate Indigenous people, their power was stifled, but not extinguished. Assimilation was not an easy transition for them, as they struggled to grasp their ancient knowledge. Using this knowledge, in combination with the “master’s tools”, the Indigenous now have the means to burn down the “master’s house”, board by board with the Windigo trapped inside (Lourde, 2018).

Three months into the COVID-19 global pandemic, life was still. The streets of Canada’s largest city were empty. People were relegated to their homes without work, family, and external support systems. However, there was something in motion. A movement of repatriation, of independence and agency. Lugging their limited personal items and camping gear, displaced Indigenous youths from across the country were moving in solidarity, and they found a new home. Across the street from my apartment balcony, change was taking place as a response to capitalist culture. Unbeknownst to me at the time, this settlement would have profound effects on my worldview. Through conversation and building relationships, my understanding of Indigeneity would be widened as these youths set precedents in Canada for the construction of decolonized urban commoning through an Indigenous lens. Focused on self-sufficiency outside of the capitalist mode of production, this pilot project has granted the opportunity for expansion into the rightful lands of Ontario’s Indigenous populations. 

This form of resistance and Indigenous activism itself is “not generalizable” as the experiences and expressions of Indigeneity are not homogenous  (Federici 2019, 713). What is reflected as ways of commoning through one Indigenous anti-capitalist, grassroots movement may not be mirrored in another ethnically and culturally different Indigenous group. Federici elaborates that, Indigenous activism centred around decolonized commoning “already exists [but is] limited in [its] capacity of action” as urban areas are increasingly privatized (2019, 714). However, “it is precisely among populations who have been stripped of their means of [re]production that we presently see the most important efforts to recreate societies structured around communitarian forms of production and decision-making” (2019, 714). In turn, Indigenous reproduction has taken many innovative forms and the action taken at “Zhingwaakwag” (pseudonym) is just an example through which alternative modes of production can be established through decolonized commoning. 

Through an anti-capitalist model of production focused on heart-centred approaches to land and resource management, this land defenders movement has allowed for the maintenance of land, production of traditional foodstuffs and stabilized housing through which their self-sustenance and independence has been established and reinforced over their almost 3 years of occupation. The motivations and actions of “Zhingwaakwag” can be reproduced through reasserting Indigenous land claims and holding space on other “crown” parklands within the GTA. To counteract the presence of the modern-day "windigo" that is realized through capitalist and neoliberal accumulation, consumption, and privatization, Indigenous land back defenders movements in the GTA have a unique opportunity to reproduce the organizations and motivations of “Zhingwaakwag” through Indigenous land claims in other localized areas.  This reproduction challenges dogmatic norms that settler states established and could allow Indigenous people to safely step outside of the settler-colonial system. Through the creation of common spaces, food insecurity and homelessness can be addressed and other contributions to the overall self-sufficiency of Indigenous groups through revitalized traditional practices can be achieved. This community-based, grassroots initiative centers around establishing forms of sustainability outside of the capitalist agenda. Through a framework of neighbourhood activism, these goals can be accomplished and can contribute to initiating commoning on a larger scale

The revitalization of traditional Indigenous ways of being is not grounded in a competitive nature, nor one of ownership or entitlement to the lands. It is being rejuvenated in response to the capitalist and colonialist nature which would ideally like the Indigenous to disappear. This is their fight, against the Windigo in bourgeois clothing, for space and significance, separate from capitalist and colonial institutions and ideologies. Embedded in colonial systems of power, exclusion, dismissal, and displacement of Indigenous issues are of no concern to policymakers who regulate the government and economy. Early in the COVID-19 pandemic, Indigenous youths of “Zhingwaakwag” determined that they were no longer willing to participate in a system that saw them devalued and excluded from the basic necessities of life.

“Consumed by consumption, it lays waste to humankind”  (Kimmerer 2013, 305).

 In modernity, the Windigo is reproduced in the consumption culture of capitalism. The issues of homelessness and food insecurity that Indigenous people experience are rooted in colonialism and racism as Indigenous access to traditional lands and food economies was disrupted (Hunger Report 2021, 16). A City of Toronto report on homelessness shows that, in 2021, 15% of Toronto’s homeless population were Indigenous people (2021, 22). Comparatively, with other ethnic groups, this statistic demonstrates the disproportionate number of Indigenous people that are homeless. As Indigenous people make up only 2.5% of the total population of Toronto, this overrepresentation of Indigenous people in the homeless population is indicative of systemic issues against this marginalized group (2021, 22). Furthermore, food has historically been weaponized against Indigenous people and today, Indigenous populations and other marginalized ethnic groups are still disproportionately affected by food insecurity. These numbers are reflected in food insecurity rates as “three times higher than non-racialized households in Ontario” and do not include homeless populations (Hunger Report 2022, 19). The government has not adequately addressed these issues with societal reform or housing initiatives. Capitalist and colonial mentalities view the homeless crisis and food insecurity as an individual rather than a societal issue while neglecting to acknowledge that these issues are only present because of colonial policies and land treaties that saw Indigenous people dispossessed of their lands, culture and community.

Throughout Canada’s history with Indigenous groups, many land treaties were acquired through manipulative means of coercion and duress. Because of this manipulation, Indigenous groups from all across Canada are currently challenging the federal government’s stake in its claim to these lands. The majority of Toronto’s urban areas are regulated under the Toronto Land Purchase of 1805; however, as “Zhingwaakwag” falls outside of this land claim and “is not subject to the city’s bylaws,” the occupation of this space has been able to flourish without too much interference from multiple governing bodies (Ottenhof 2020). The lands on which “Zhingwaakwag” resides fall into an antiquated and dishonourable land claim, The Rouge Tract Land Claim, which was submitted to the provincial and federal government in 2015 by Mississaugas of the New Credit First Nations is currently being reviewed (Bennink, 2019). 

Because of this review, and with the support of historical agreements such as the Dish with One Spoon and the Two-row Wampum which stipulate shared access and occupation of the lands, the opportunity to occupy these lands was realized and space could be held without an onslaught of bureaucratic influence and infiltration (Ottenhof 2020).

Displaced youths from across the city and as far away as BC joined in solidarity to occupy the lands and to provide for themselves the means to produce the necessities of life. Newly formed, “Zhingwaakwag” is a self-governing Indigenous group with common values which “[focus] on four pillars: housing, assisting youth transitioning out of care, food sovereignty, and self-governance” (Ottenhof 2020). This group has “been holding space, harvesting and foraging, performing ceremonies, educating the public and keeping the space safe from those with bad intentions” since July 2, 2020 (Children’s Peace Theatre 2023). Through traditional food production and establishing housing on these lands, this group is a vanguard working to counteract capitalist agendas and consumption patterns in a market economy allowing for the management of Indigenous lands “done by, with, and for Indigenous people” (Wadsworth 2021, 203).

“Windigo is the name for that within us which cares more for its own survival than for anything else.” (Kimmerer 2013, 305)

Historically, reports from the Royal Commission of Canada have addressed issues pertaining to the Indigenous populations within the nation. However, despite acknowledging these issues, their rectification has been slow to be achieved. The Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada highlighted in its Calls to Action that Canada “repudiates concepts used to justify European sovereignty over Indigenous lands and peoples such as the Doctrine of Discovery and terra nullius” (2015, 45i). However, one of the most recent failures of the Canadian government is its delayed response to enforcing the Commission's calls to action. Instead of waiting for the government to enact change, this group took it upon themselves to reproduce an environment that was taken from their people over 400 years ago. Through holding space on the lands, this group has begun to create what the government has failed to do despite these calls to action. Silvia Federici acknowledges that establishing commons is no easy task, especially in a society where Indigeneity has historically been marginalized (2019, 712). Despite this, she states that, 

[the] principle of the commons appears to be doomed, ruled out of existence, it is in fact returning—however articulated—at the center of political discourse and practice. One important factor has certainly been the influence of Indigenous people’s struggles …[which] has demonstrated that the construction of self-governed communities, organized according to a logic other than the state and the market, remains a historical possibility. (2019, 712). In “Zhingwaakwag” this possibility is becoming a reality through which we can understand how this opportunity for urban commoning can be realized separate from the culture of consumption within the colonial, capitalist agenda. No longer relegated to the background of the socio-political sphere, or reliant on governmental support, Indigenous commons produce  “the only clear alternative form of organization to contemporary capitalism” (2019, 713). It is a direct response to the federal government’s failure to rectify relations with Indigenous communities.

Members of “Zhingwaakwag” have been actively working towards production within their community through collective work and collective responsibility. The production within the community can be observed in project efforts that have allowed for the site's continued development and movement toward its goals. The growth of the site and the transition from tents to huts has allowed for the occupation of the lands during all seasons. These modifications have contributed to the stable housing of Indigenous youth while also promoting traditional ideals of resilience and perseverance despite harsh conditions. This year-round occupation has also contributed to the monitoring and maintenance of the lands as one of their goals is to rebalance the native ecosystem through the eradication of invasive plant species. Their goal of being self-sustainable has progressed through the construction of garden boxes which have produced a variety of foodstuffs. Through the production of native foods, herbs and other plants with spiritual significance such as tobacco and sage, the symbiotic relationships of land, food and people can be recognized. Historical policies of assimilation and the residential school system, and modern child extraction methods enforced through the institution of Child Protective Services have separated Indigenous youths from connections with their culture. In this space, Indigenous youths can reconnect with and reclaim aspects of their culture that are not seen as valuable in a capitalist society.

 Furthermore, Federici states that “the importance of the rituals that periodically resignify the ties that people have with the community as well as with each other” can be observed in “Zhingwaakwag” during spiritually and astronomically significant dates and events (2019, 713). These events have significantly contributed to the epistemological benefits of Indigenous youth, as they can refocus the importance of their Indigeneity in an appropriate cultural and spiritual context.  Other forms of activism include the organization of Indigenous arts and crafts markets, cultural reeducation events, fundraising activities, and concerts. Indigenous land defenders at “Zhingwaakwag”, through enforcing their right to sovereignty and land stewardship, have implemented Indigenous cultural activities in the mode of commoning. 

This community juxtaposes Indigenous occupation and use of the lands against the neighbouring urban environment where capitalism is encouraged and highlights the value of utilizing greenspace for common purposes. Harvey states that “the political recognition that the commons can be produced, protected, and used for social benefit becomes a framework for resisting capitalist power and rethinking the politics of anti-capitalist transition” (2012, 87). Through the lens of Indigenous sovereignty in Zhingwaakwag”, Harvey’s analysis of commoning is being realized. The visibility of the people and lands at “Zhingwaakwag” has initiated and produced a sustainable community structured around the resistance to colonial hegemony and the revitalization of Indigenous cultures. As exemplified in “Zhingwaakwag”, a common mode of production can cohabitate with more hegemonic forms of production; “surplus value and living labour” have the opportunity within these spaces to be replaced by social organization formulated around common values and equity (Federici 2019, 712). This urban land defenders movement arose out of the need for establishing a cooperative Indigenous community and to counteract the systemic failures of the Canadian government toward Indigenous people and their cultures. Members have designated responsibilities which contribute equally to the totality of the project whereby the organization of everyday life is “dependent on the performance of the tasks that each member owes to the community” (Federici 2019, 713). Through the collective action necessary in commoning, this grassroots, bottom-up structure challenges the top-down hierarchized socio-political structure of modern settler-colonial states. 

The reproduction of this space into other parklands in the Rouge Tract Land Claim is possible and could contribute significantly to addressing issues of homelessness and food insecurity. As the limitations of space at this location minimize the number of people this movement can support, the replication of the organization and motivations of “Zhingwaakwag” would ultimately address the large population of unhoused, displaced and food-insecure individuals in the GTA.  Toronto, and especially in the less densely populated boroughs, has a substantial amount of green space. Small-scale farming tracks could be placed in under-utilized parks, where, through the horizontal structure of commoning the management and development of the land could be overseen. A Who’s Hungry Report outlined the importance of the recognition of Indigenous food sovereignty and that “working towards Indigenous food sovereignty means ensuring that Indigenous Peoples have access to healthy, affordable, and culturally appropriate foods while defining and leading their own food systems (2022, 22).

As prices soar at grocery stores, inflation has had detrimental effects on the ways that individuals and families can feed themselves. With stretched financial means, highly processed foods with high fat and sugar content are the few items that can be purchased within their budget. Recently, urban horticultural practices have been on the rise, however, this activity is typically done on an individual level with micro-scale cultivation and is an activity only accessible to those with leisure time and financial resources. This is not an activity that has been done out of necessity or on a communal level. The expansion of urban horticultural practices to a more community-based model which addresses homelessness and food insecurity would challenge these socioeconomic norms. However, this expansion to commoning would certainly face challenges of its own. The viability and fertility of the land are important considerations, as well as irrigation, and the storage of harvested materials. However, through listening to the lands, and adhering to the symbiosis of certain plant species with others, both of which are traditional Indigenous practices, production is possible. Commoning would not only be beneficial on an economic level but it would also restore traditional Indigenous cultural and spiritual practices 

In light of the many systemic failures of the government, this form of passive activism should not be trivialized. Through holding space and taking up space, “Zhingwaakwag '' challenges that which is structurally designed not to account for the narrative of Indigenous histories, modes of organization and living which saw an equitable balance amongst all individuals and their environment. Despite the challenges that  “Zhingwaakwag” has faced, they remain a cohesive unit. This cohesiveness is a testament to their Indigenous spirit, that they remain unified in spite of the hegemony of the surrounding society, its influences and the ease of modern conveniences. The vast estate on which the masters’ house resides can be dismantled to allow for the inclusivity of all peoples and the balance of all living things. While commoning may not be able to destroy the Windigo, it might be able to begin to tame it so that it can be satiated from the equitable division of resources. As a result of community and shared ideals, this monster can be taught that there are healthier, more harmonious alternatives to the ways that they were living. 

Works Cited 

Bennick, Janice. 2019.  “Rouge Tract land claim a step towards reconciliation”. Centennial Community and Recreation Association.  https://ccranews.com/rouge-tract-land-claim-a-step-towards-reconciliation/ 

City of Toronto. 2021. “Street Needs Assessment”. Government of Canada.  https://www.toronto.ca/legdocs/mmis/2021/ec/bgrd/backgroundfile-171729.pdf 

Daily Bread. 2022. “Who’s Hungry Report: A Story of a System Under Strain”.  https://www.dailybread.ca/wp-content/uploads/2022/11/DB-WhosHungryReport-2022-Digital-1.pdf  

Federici, Silvia. 2019. “Women, Reproduction, Commons” The South Atlantic Quarterly 118(4): 711-724.

Harvey, David. 2012. “Chapter 3: The Creation of Urban Commons” in Rebel Cities: From the Right to the City to the Urban Revolution. London: Verso. Pp. 67-88, 173-175.

Hay, Mark. 2020. Image. “Interest in Foraging Is Booming. Here’s How to Do it Right.”  https://civileats.com/2020/07/09/interest-in-foraging-is-booming-heres-how-to-do-it-right/ 

Hunger Report. 2022. Feed Ontario.“Deeping Cracks in Ontario’s Economic Foundation”.  https://feedontario.ca/wp-content/uploads/2022/11/Hunger-Report-2022-Final.pdf  

Kimmerer, Robin Wall. 2015. Braiding Sweetgrass. Minneapolis, MN: Milkweed Editions.

Lorde, Audre. 2018. The Master’s Tools Will Never Dismantle the Master’s House. Penguin Modern. London, England: Penguin Classics.

Ottenhof, Luke. 2020. “Indigenous Youth Have Reclaimed Land in Toronto”. Vice Article.  https://www.vice.com/en/article/m7a7kx/indigenous-youth-have-reclaimed-land-in-toronto-called-wiigwaasikaa  

Owen, Jade. “Food as a Weapon in the Residential School System”. Food Secure Canada.  https://foodsecurecanada.org/residential-schools-and-using-food-weapon  

Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada. 2015. Truth and Reconciliation: Calls to Action, 45i. National Centre for Truth and Reconciliation. University of Manitoba.