In 2017, the Indigenous Student Association (ISA) of the Ontario College of Art and Design (OCAD) University presented the exhibition Terra Incognita in collaboration with OCAD University’s Indigenous Visual Culture (INVC) program and Artscape Daniels Spectrum. It feels a little fuzzy after the roller coaster two years the world has had but oh boy was 2017 a big deal for Canada. It was “Canada 150" and you couldn’t go anywhere in Tkaronto without hearing about it. Coming off our first student exhibition, Primitive, which was an opposition of sorts to the vocabulary used in academia to discuss Indigenous art histories and practices, the ISA wanted offer alternative narratives to the higher-than-usual-levels of toxic nationalism we were being drowned in.

From the outset, bringing the show to life was a co-design process and could not have happened without our ISA members and co-presidents, especially Megan Feheley, who was the driving force and captain of our ship. We are also deeply grateful for the support given by Ryan Rice, Melissa General, Chief Lady Bird, and Mony Pich.

The show title “Terra Incognita,” to me, represented this kind of unknown future looming ahead of us. We live in a time wherein it is more important than ever to acknowledge and honour our relationship to land and place, yet resource extraction, displacement, poverty, and a whole host symptoms of settler colonialism plague our communities and the world at large.

Will we survive the impending apocalypse promised by climate change? Who knows! All I know is that we are in this together whether we like it or not.

My work in the show was a piece called “Welcome to Canada” and was the result of an assignment for the great Bonnie Devine called “A walk is a story.” Students were asked to go for a walk and find something to make an artwork with. As usual, I was doing it at the last minute.

Due tomorrow? Do tomorrow! (Don’t do this!) My class was at noon, so I set out at 9 am to explore my beloved neighbourhood, Kensington Market and Trinity Bellwoods Park in Tkaronto. I was hoping lady luck would bless me with a good story. She did, and I am so happy to share it with you.

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As I approached Trinity Bellwoods Park from the East, two Chinese women asked me for directions. One was younger and the other appeared to be her mother. In broken English, they explained to me that it was their first week in Canada and the younger woman’s first day at a new high school.

They were far from their destination so I offered to take them, following the GPS on my phone. As we walked, I tried to make conversation with the young woman, and I clumsily asked her how she felt about the January weather. When we arrived at the high school and I walked them to the office, I asked the young woman her name. She told me it was Wendy. I shook each woman’s hand, said goodbye and turned to leave, but as I did the mother stuffed a twenty dollar bill into my hand. I tried to refuse it, but she gave me that “mom” look. I know what it means. At that moment, I didn’t need language. I saw my own mother doing absolutely everything she could as a single parent raising daughters on her own. I took the money and went on my way. I vowed that I would not spend that $20 but keep it to remind myself of Wendy and her mom’s journey. A precious object, a keepsake.

The final work I presented to Bonnie Devine was a picture frame with the words “Welcome to Canada” written in gold with Chinese characters. The twenty dollar bill was in the center of the frame and rested on red floral calico (a fabric often used in Haudenosaunee traditional clothing). A collage of the Queen’s face surrounds the bill; she is ever watchful of her subjects, lest they misbehave! The bottom of the frame had a deep red fringe attached. Under the frame I mounted a hammer with the same fringe on two nails. I imagined a cartoonish situation where I might need to break the glass due to a financial emergency. It was meant to be my final message to Wendy and her Mom, and a wish to bring prosperity to peoples who have suffered the violence of colonization. Perhaps the unknown future barreling towards us could be a prosperous one? Maybe? Just a little bit? I really enjoy work that implicates the viewer and asks them to perform. As an artist that exhibits work, it is one of my favourite things to make and do. It’s “fun!” Thus, I presented the work in the same way for Terra Incognita. This is where I played myself.

Terra Incognita opened at Artscape Daniels Spectrum in Regent Park on July 6th, 2017.

We showed a diverse collection of work made by Indigenous people and settler-allies alike, from across Turtle Island. We had a bustling, successful opening, with many people in attendance. It was the ISA’s first time exhibiting work outside of the academic context, physical and metaphorical. It energized us to know that people would take the time outside of the academic milieu to interact with this work…until (from my perspective at least) they interacted a little too much. I don’t remember exactly how I found out, but it came to my attention that my work had been swiped off the wall by some teenagers… They just walked away with the whole frame and it was gone. At least they left the hammer. My $20 from Wendy’s mom! How could this happen!?

If I had bothered to do any research at the time, I would have understood that Regent Park has a storied history and has been in the throes of a major “rejuvenation” aka gentrification project since 2005. With a quick google search you can find article after article about Regent Park’s longstanding “notorious reputation” and the notoriously longstanding efforts to “fix it” (read make commercially viable). According to The Guardian’s David Haynes, Regent Park “has attracted global attention as a kind of socio-economic experiment in public- private gentrification. For better or worse, this one-time crime haven in Toronto has become a test: can you regenerate social housing without resorting to social cleansing?” Significantly, Haynes cites Martine August, an urban planner associated with Regent Park’s rejuvenation project as she points out that “nearly 60% of the original Regent Park population (has) been born outside Canada.”

It became clear to me instantly that this little “experiment” of my own was cruel and short sighted. How could I go into this community that has experienced decades of socioeconomic inequality and wave my $20 around like “ooo it's  sentimental” and expect nothing to happen? $20 can make a difference in someone’s day and can be a powerful motivator for kids. Yet, here I am perpetuating the same mentality that these developers do when they sweep in and gentrify communities as if to say “wealth is for everyone in this country… except you!” As someone who has worked with at-risk  youth for years as an arts facilitator, the last thing I would ever want to do is humiliate and dehumanize anyone in such a way, especially kids.

I’ve been told that security footage of the incident exists somewhere, and they were able to identify the youth, but I wasn’t interested in pursuing any kind of action. I knew it was my fault and I asked for it. Who the hell did I think I was, showing that kind of work in a place of perpetual gentrification? In a place where privilege is everywhere and nowhere all at once? I failed to acknowledge place, history, and my own privilege. And I paid for it. It cost me $20.

So what does this mean in a “post-covid” context? It is possible that all the lessons to be learned from this incident haven’t made themselves clear yet? However, it is clear to me that even when you think you are coming from a place of good intentions and you view yourself as a “progressive humanitarian,” it is highly possible that you still have some work to do. People aren’t experiments and the work you make as a student can have very real-world consequences. As previously mentioned, it is more important than ever to acknowledge and honour our relationship to land and place (Yes, Regent Park too!). Included in that land are the people who are tied to it; we owe them that respect as we venture forward into this Terra Incognita, together.

To Wendy and her Mom,

I am so sorry, I wasted your gift. I hope Canada is treating you well.

To the youth with sticky fingers, Why didn’t you use the hammer?