Unsettling Spirit: A Journey Into Decolonization (Décoloniser les relations, décoloniser l’esprit), by Denise M. Nadeau

What does it mean to decolonize the self? What are the structures in place that continue to perpetuate the injustices of colonial rule? How can the necessary shift from a hierarchical, competitive approach to an inclusive and cooperative way of interacting be realized? And how can individuals in the helping professions, such as art therapy, expressive arts therapies, social work, counseling, education, health care, and ministry unlearn old ways of thinking, and actively engage with new ideas and concepts?

These questions are central to Denise M. Nadeau’s book, Unsettling Spirit: A Journey into Decolonization (2020). Written for both the general reader and those seeking a scholarly study on decolonization, Nadeau’s account of her experiences working with Indigenous communities across Canada is a soulful, reflective inquiry into identity. It is a culturally sensitive resource that addresses ways of living in harmony with ourselves and the world.

Nadeau is a popular educator, scholar, and social activist, with over 35 years of practice. She brings to her work professional training in somatic psychotherapy and the expressive arts. She holds undergraduate and graduate degrees in history, and Master’s and PhD degrees in theology. Born and raised in Quebec, she currently resides as a visitor in the traditional homelands of the WSÁNEĆ (Saanich), Lkwungen (Songhees), and Wyomilth (Esquimalt) peoples on Vancouver Island. Nadeau has taught at the University of British Columbia, the Vancouver School of Theology, Simon Fraser University, and Concordia University, and has facilitated countless workshops and presentations across the country. At the heart of her pedagogy is a people-oriented, people-guided approach that recognizes everyone in the room as both teacher and learner; this creates a horizontal, participatory relationship between students and learners, and respects personal experience as a fundamental component of knowledge.

Accordingly, Nadeau does not present her readers with a definitive handbook on how to become an ally. Rather, she uses autoethnography as a methodology. Her personal stories trace her growing unease with colonial structure, challenges in coming to terms with her identity as a settler of mixed European and possibly Indigenous heritage, the anxieties of a privileged upbringing, and the tensions between her Christian faith and her disillusionment with the Church. The choice of first-person storytelling, which emphasizes relationship, engagement, accessible language, and complexity of experience, may in itself be considered a decolonizing approach. Nadeau observes “My journey into decolonization has never been linear. It is more like a spiral, and each time the spiral circles round I understand a bit more” (p. 12). Indeed, her intricate narrative sometimes becomes tangled in the challenging quest to interweave academic research with the trajectory of her career path and evolving insights. But it is precisely the contextualization of the personal within the historical and political that makes Unsettling Spirit more than an interesting memoir. It transforms Nadeau’s individual experiences into an invitation for readers to reflect on their own life stories, to make personal connections with the issues raised, and then to consider how their actions can create a more harmonious world.

A foreword, written by Deanna Reder, Cree-Métis scholar and Associate Professor of Indigenous Studies and English Literature at Simon Fraser University, opens the book. Reder argues that Canada’s history must include the acknowledgement of the harm inflicted on the Indigenous people, and commends Nadeau for demonstrating “how to unsettle one’s understandings of a variety of key issues—from belonging and identity, blood quantum, the politics of trauma, and the relationship with water to treaty responsibilities—by seeing them from an Indigenous point of view” (p. xi). Reder notes that this is difficult work, especially because “it flies in the face of the assumption that Canada is innocent, decent, well-intentioned and fair-minded” (p. xi). The foreword effectively prepares readers for the uncomfortable, yet richly rewarding trek they are about to undertake.

Acknowledgements by Nadeau follow. The author muses, “In many ways this book is not the product of one person but, rather, of many conversations, challenges, mistakes, sharings, and the generosity of many who have helped me on my journey” (p. xv). Her message of gratitude is directed to the lands where she has lived, the Indigenous peoples who have welcomed her although she is an uninvited guest, her friends, colleagues, reviewers, editors, and family members. A special thank you is extended to artist Bernadine Martin from Gesgapegiag “who beaded the beautiful Saint Anne brooch which graces the cover of the book” (p. xvi). The acknowledgement section alone makes me want to read the rest of the publication, in that it reflects genuine humility and unstinting appreciation of the collective efforts required to bring forth new material.

In the book’s formal introduction, Nadeau tells more about the brooch, which is central to the cover design. This motif is not a stock image, or a publisher’s signature graphic. Rather, it is a carefully chosen work, a beaded image of Saint Anne holding her daughter Mary. Nadeau had seen it among other beadwork for sale at a Micmac Co-op on the Gaspé Coast, was intuitively drawn to it, but hesitated to buy it because she did not want to make a public display of her Christianity, or be perceived as implying that she is Indigenous. She confides, “I worry I may be considered a fraud on both sides” (p. 3). Her careful deliberations reflect the questioning of identity that has been central to her life, as a person “caught between two traditions” (p. 4). The ensuing purchase of the brooch reflects Nadeau’s increasing confidence in sensing what is right for her.

The main text is organized into 18 chapters, which in turn are grouped into five themes: “Mission Impossible” (pp. 15–54); “The Great White Helper” (pp. 55–98); “Going Home: Gespe’gewa’gi (pp. 99–150); “Making Relations” (pp. 151–228); and “Unsettling Spirit” (pp. 229–262). It is a richly textured tapestry of observations and insights, beginning with memories of Nadeau’s childhood in Montreal and the Gaspé Peninsula, and then weaving back and forth to the present. From working and learning with Indigenous populations, to revisiting and re-storying the history of her father’s family, Nadeau’s narrative is filled not only with recollections of anxieties, mistakes, and frustrations, but also with the joys of sometimes getting things right.

Nine images are included in the text: a photo of Nadeau as a cute young girl in a 1960s Annie Oakley cowgirl outfit; three historical maps of Gaspé; a photo of an odd figurative sculpture purporting to portray “an Indian” outside the Musée Maison Legrand; a 1912 topographical photo of logs under the railway bridge of Port Daniel, West River; and two contemporary maps, one depicting a Nm’tginen statement of Title to Gespe’gewa’gi, the other referencing Mi’gmaq place names along the Gesgapegiag River Watershed. The images serve to underscore key points about Nadeau’s “re-mapping” of her identity, including the racism, sometimes overt and at other times frustratingly unaware, which existed and still continues to exist in Canada.

Among the many anecdotes and twists and turns in Nadeau’s autoethnography, two stories were of special interest to me as a practicing art therapist. In Part 2, Chapter 4: From Taking Space to Making Space. Nadeau focuses on the concepts of relationship building, and points out how the term “impartial observer” is in fact a fallacy, a colonial practice reflecting unconscious white superiority. This traditional, hierarchical approach to therapy, steeped in “us” and “them,” helpers and victims, can create a mask of inapproachability and judgment, and so disrupt the development of meaningful communication (pp. 61-4). In a moving recollection of a morning circle gathering at the Native Education Center in Vancouver, Nadeau shares how her inability to face her own pain was able to shift to a more reciprocal, horizontal way of relating. Having witnessed the deep sobbing of a participant, and the warm support provided for her by the other women, Nadeau herself began to weep. She then realized what a “dark hole” she had been carrying inside. Nadeau acknowledged, “Deep down, I believed […] no one would love me if they found out what I was really like, who I really was, with all my gaps and failures” (p. 59). Nadeau, drawing on her own expressive art therapy training, further notes how many “white behaviours” come to be encoded in the body (p. 61). Reading her story and observations, I find myself wondering to what extent just the way I move, quickly and assuredly, or my desires to be the expert and take over can be seen not only as overwhelming, but dismissive or offensive. Nadeau wisely observes, “It is not easy to grasp what whiteness means when it is an invisible quality within which you are immersed” (p. 62). Nadeau reminds us that letting others take the lead, and being mindful of “being with” rather than “being for,” are ways of being in relationship, which can create the space and place for reciprocal, meaningful engagement. Decolonized, Indigenized thinking is a full-bodied, intentional activity.

The second narrative which particularly resonated with me can be found in Chapter 12 in Part 4, A Water Journey: Indigenous Water Laws. Here Nadeau tells how, in the course of attending Three Fires Midewiwin initiation ceremonies in Bad River with her friend and colleague Alannah Young, of Anishnabe Cree heritage, she became increasingly aware of the sacredness of water, and the role of women as protectors of water. Water, she has grown to recognize, is not a mere abstraction, a consumable resource for drinking, bathing, and swimming. Rather, it is alive; it is both a spirit and a relative. To help readers understand, not only intellectually but viscerally, the Indigenous concept of water as part of a greater connected whole, Nadeau briefly describes a mind-body psychotherapy exercise that she has developed over the years. I had the privilege of attending a workshop presented by Nadeau and Young at the Fall 2022 Canadian Art Therapy Association Symposium, where they cofacilitated a water teaching by means of a simple but very powerful series of directives (Nadeau & Young, 2022). After grounding ourselves by contemplating the four directions in our immediate environment, we were invited to get a glass of water. Next, we were asked to consider where the water came from. Where was it today? Where was it yesterday? Where was it a week ago? And before that? We were encouraged to sip the water, slowly, appreciatively, and to recall those occasions when we had greedily gulped a drink in haste. Now, if we were a body of water, what would we be? An ocean, a lake, a stream? What message might it give us? We were invited to draw or paint our body of water, and then move our body in accordance with the composition we had made. Lastly, we were asked to consider how we would care for and nurture this water. We then shared our insights with the group as a whole. To bodily experience pause, gratitude, and reciprocity, instead of the colonial hunger to grasp and consume, was a transformative opportunity for many workshop participants.

Unsettling Spirit concludes with an afterword by Nadeau, prodigious notes, and a bibliography that foregrounds Indigenous scholarship. She includes a wide variety of resources, ranging from websites, YouTube videos, legal documents, and archives to works of art and scholarly publications. Nadeau has described her work in decolonization as “a process, a calling, and a positive way of being” (p. 12). This is reflected in the scope of her research, which is interdisciplinary, in solidarity with Indigenous values, and seeks to move readers out of stuck roles.

I highly recommend Unsettling Spirit as a valuable resource not only for the general reader, but for art therapists, expressive arts therapists, social workers, educational institutions, and organizations who want to learn more about Canada’s history, the impact of Colonialism, and/or effective antioppressive practices. It has become a core text in several postgraduate-level art therapy programs. The Kutenai Art Therapy Institute, for example, includes it as required reading for its Groundwater 2 course, Indigenizing and Decolonizing the Self in Art Therapy Practice (Cardinal, 2022); the two other textbooks are Becoming an Ally (Bishop, 2002) and The Sacred Tree (Lane, Bopp, Bopp, Brown, & Elders, 1992). Additional literature I can recommend to help contextualize Nadeau’s work for art therapists includes: Decolonizing Mental Health: Embracing Indigenous Multi-Dimensional Balance, by John E. Charlton, Herman J. Mitchell, and Sharon L. Acoose (2020); Claiming Anishnaabe: Decolonizing the Human Spirit, by Lynn Gehl (2017); Circle Works: Transforming Eurocentric Consciousness, by Fyre Jean Graveline (2003); and Decolonizing Trauma Work: Indigenous Stories and Strategies, by Renee Linklater (2014).

Unsettling Spirit has not been written to provide specific art therapy exercises or step-by-step approaches for projects. My concern is that this may cause Nadeau’s autoethnography to be overlooked by practitioners. However, Nadeau digs deeper than techniques or theoretical frameworks, by urging her readers to reflect on and address the core beliefs, experiences, and sociopolitical structures that underly their actions. She successfully identifies and shakes up the colonial mindset of “either/or thinking, perfectionism, a sense of urgency, defensiveness, paternalism, fear of conflict, individualism, a belief that there is only one right way, worship of the written word, and the right to comfort” (p. 90).

For those seeking to grow into right relationship with themselves and the world, Unsettling Spirit’s field notes serve as an invigorating, compassionate guide. By telling her own story with candor and determination, Nadeau invites readers to be present, listen, stay aware, and courageously move into relational, connected, shared space. Developing this sensitivity is vital not only for those working with Indigenous populations, but for all art therapists who seek to work from a strengths-based, trauma-informed, and anti-oppressive approach of cultural humility.

Claudia Mandler McKnight, RP, RCAT, DTATI, MA, MFA candidate, OCADU
Toronto, Ontario, Canada
[email protected]