Dr. Jenna Woodrow, Tracy Strain
Indigenous Ways of Knowing was quite a different course than any of the other Indigenous focused courses that I have previously taken. As mentioned in in the “about me” section, my undergraduate degree had an Indigenous emphasis, but what made this course stand out from any of the others that I have taken, is how hands-on it was. Instead of being a writing intensive, HRSJ 5020 taught me through activities, field trips, and community connection. As a class, we were in frequent contact with members of the Secwepemc community who guided us through a host of physical activities that related to the coursework, and engaged us in a way that would be impossible through just lectures and essays.
Working across Indigenous law, geography, social work, education, and health, the course helped me see how deeply interconnected these fields are when approached through Indigenous epistemologies. Instead of treating knowledge as something separate from place, we were asked to consider how relationships with land, people, stories, and responsibilities, shape what we come to know. That shift in perspective was one of the most meaningful parts of the course.
The conversations about colonialism and the ongoing barriers that restrict Indigenous access to land were difficult but necessary. It was sobering to trace how policies, institutions, and everyday practices continue to limit Indigenous sovereignty and self‑determination. At the same time, learning about resurgence movements around food, water, ceremony, education, and mobility, offered a powerful counterpoint. These movements showed how communities are reclaiming space, knowledge, and futures in ways that are grounded, creative, and deeply relational.
Engaging with Secwépemcstin and Secwépemcúlucw, even in small steps, reminded me that language and land are inseparable. The recurring themes we encountered – responsibility, reciprocity, intergenerational connection – felt less like academic concepts and more like invitations to rethink how I move through the world.
Throughout the course, I was required to submit weekly journal entries which pushed me to reflect on my own positionality: where I come from, my own Indigenous roots, what assumptions I carry, and how I show up in conversations about Indigenous knowledge. That self‑reflection wasn’t always comfortable, but it felt essential. It helped me understand that learning in this context isn’t just about absorbing information, it’s about accountability.
By the end of the course, I felt more confident engaging with Indigenous philosophies, understanding the structures that contribute to epistemic marginalization, and participating in dialogue that is respectful, attentive, and grounded in relationship. The final project became a way to bring together my own research interests with the methodologies and teachings we encountered, rather than treating them as separate worlds.
What stays with me most is the sense that this course wasn’t only about knowledge; it was about practice. It asked us to consider how we live, how we listen, and how we honour the sovereignties and teachings of the lands we are on. That’s a responsibility I’ll carry forward long after the course has ended.
globalindigenousvoice.org 