We’re back today with everyone’s favourite series, Historian’s Histories! If you’d like to see more posts from this series, you can do so here. Today we’re joined by the wonderful Dr. Erin Millions
Dr. Erin Millions’ research focuses on the intersections of childhood, gender, material culture, and colonialism in Canada and the wider British Empire. She is a Postdoctoral Fellow at the University of Winnipeg with Dr. Mary Jane Logan McCallum’s CIHR-funded project “Indigenous Histories of Tuberculosis in Manitoba, 1930s-1970s” and the Western Canadian Studies Visiting Fellow at St. John’s College at the University of Manitoba.
What is your background (education, life experience, etc..)?
I grew up in a small town in north-central Saskatchewan, where the prairie meets the northern tree line. I come from a long line of prairie farmers. My parents farmed until shortly after I was born, and all of my grandparents and great-grandparents were Saskatchewan farmers. I’m the first one on both sides of my family to earn a university degree.
What drew you to history in the first place?
I can’t even remember, to be honest. It’s just always been there. I’ve read historical fiction voraciously for as long as I can remember. One particular moment that stands out for me if when I read Anne Frank’s diary when I was ten or so, after I understood that my grandfathers fought in World War II.
In my undergraduate years though, I was drawn to western Canadian history as I tried try to understand my own personal and family histories. I grew up in a town that was near several First Nations communities in north-east Saskatchewan. First Nations families came to town for health care, for education, and for many other reasons, but our town was essentially segregated in how Indigenous and non-Indigenous people in the community lived and interacted. Racism, of course, played a larger role in these divisions, but there were also larger structural issues at work as well. I wanted to understand why this was the case.
What did you want to be when you were growing up?
I most remember wanting to be a movie director. I guess that seemed like a glamourous way to be the boss of people, which would have appealed to my younger self.
What kind of work do you do as a historian?
All of my work right now engages with Indigenous histories and histories of colonialism. In my research I try to expand our understandings of points at which colonialism and Indigenous histories intersect, or to repatriate Indigenous histories and knowledge that have been dispersed by colonial processes and the colonial archive.
As a settler historian, I often have conflicted feelings about being a white woman who studies Indigenous histories. I am well aware of the long histories of colonizing Indigenous histories and knowledge by white academics, the harm that has done, and the legacies of mistrust that have accrued as a result. However, I also see the burdens that Indigenization and reconciliation offload onto my Indigenous colleagues in the academy in particular, and I see ways that settler scholars can engage in support of these efforts as well.
While I am not fond of the word reconciliation because it is too often used to signal empty gestures that do not contribute to real change, my work as a historian is meant to contribute to reconciliation in meaningful ways. This means that I do work to centre Indigenous voices in my teaching and research, help to create space for Indigenous voices in the academy, and disrupt colonial narratives in ways that are sometimes uncomfortable for settlers (and for myself). Or at least I try to achieve these goals in my work. Doing this research as a settler scholar is an ongoing process of listening and learning to do better.
Currently I have two streams of research on the go. One examines nineteenth-century Indigenous fur trade children and women in transnational and imperial contexts. My dissertation research examines elite Indigenous fur trade children who went to school in Rupert’s Land, the Canadian colonies, and Britain. Out of this research I’ve developed an interest in Indigenous women and children who lived in Britain in the nineteenth century and the material culture (family photographs and women’s beadwork and sewing) that moved between Canada and Britain as part of these family circuits. My colleague Krista Barclay and I are also working on a project that examines Indigenous grave sites in England and Scotland as sites of memory, family histories, and Indigenous lives lived in metropolitan spaces.
This academic year I am a Postdoctoral Fellow with Dr. Mary Jane Logan McCallum at the University of Winnipeg. Dr. McCallum has a CIHR-funded project on Indigenous Histories of Tuberculosis in Manitoba. As part of this research, family members of Indigenous tuberculosis patients have come to her and asked her to help them find the burial places of missing patients. We do not have enough information about Manitoba sanatorium cemeteries, burial processes, or where records are located to be able to assist with these requests. My postdoctoral work assesses the administration of death and burial at two Manitoba Indian treatment centres (Dynevor Indian Hospital and Brandon Indian Sanitorium) with the goal of establishing guidelines to assist families and community members in their search for their missing loved ones. The Nanilavut Initiative, headed by Inuit Tapiriit Kanatamiand rooted in the work of the Qikiqtani Truth Commission, has recently launched a database that provides this information for Inuit tuberculosis patients.
Dr. McCallum and I are also in the process of launching a photo-based project that aims to identify unnamed Indigenous tuberculosis patients in archival photos from Manitoba sanitariums and Indian hospitals and repatriate copies of those photos to the appropriate individuals and communities. The first phase of the project uses social media to circulate the photos (Indigenous Histories of Tuberculosis in Manitoba Photo Project will launch soon on twitter, Facebook and Instagram). This work is in in cooperation with the Manitoba Lung Association and with the support of the Assembly of Manitoba Chiefs and the First Nations Health and Social Secretariat of Manitoba. The second phase of the project consists of sharing the photos directly with survivors and communities in ways align with community requests. We are currently in talks with the organizers of the National Elders’ Gathering (Winnipeg, September 2019) to bring the photos to the Gathering and share them with Elders and other attendees.
What is your favourite part about being a historian? And what is your least favourite part?
My favourite part of being an historian is working with the sources, whether that’s archival documents, or photos, or material culture. I love putting the pieces together.
My least favourite part of being a historian at this stage in my life is finding a way to do the work that I love in a job that is financially stable and does not ask massive sacrifices from my partner and my children. The job market for historians is challenging, to say the least.
What is the most surprising thing you’ve ever learned about history?
Oh my goodness, so many things! I continue to be surprised all the time by what I learn about history and by what I find in the archives.
For me personally though, learning about the Peasant Farming Policy on the prairies and the pass system was particularly eye-opening. The Peasant Farming Policy was implemented by the Department of Indian Affairs (DIA) in the late-nineteenth century to purposefully limit the success of on-reserve agriculture. As First Nations farmers became more successful in agriculture, settler farmers became more vocal in their objections to this success. First Nations crops increased competition for white farmers, and these same farmers made money selling livestock to the DIA for reserve communities.
First Nations success was therefore a threat to white agricultural success on the prairies and the DIA purposefully and effectively implemented policies to undermine on-reserve farming and ranching. As a descendant of several generations of prairie farmers, these policies directly benefitted my family; these financial benefits have been passed on down through the generations. I actually use this example in my Indigenous history courses to help explain to my students how settler colonialist policies rooted in the nineteenth century and early twentieth century continue to benefit non-Indigenous Canadians today.
Why do you think we, as a society, should study history?
In the case of Indigenous histories, the reason is clear – better understandings of Indigenous histories by all people in Canada makes all our lives better. Learning history builds empathy, and empathy is an antidote to hate.
If you could go back in time, whether to live or just visit, which time and place would you pick and why?
The Red River Settlement (aka. Winnipeg), 1850s. My research on Indigenous fur trade families is rooted in Red River and I live right in the heart of old St. Boniface, which is the Metis and francophone district of Winnipeg. I would so love to observe in person what I’ve been researching and writing about (did I get it right?) and to experience what the land and settlement looked like and felt like at that time. Just a visit though. I enjoy indoor plumbing and women’s rights too much to want to live in the past.
Special thanks to Erin Millions for contributing to this series! If you’d like to learn more about Erin or her work, definitely give her a follow on Twitter @erinmillions. And If you are interested in participating in this series, please get in touch by emailing me at unwritten histories [at] gmail [dot] com or by sending me a message on Facebook or Twitter.
We hope you enjoyed this week’s blog post! If you did, please consider sharing it on the social media platform of your choice! And don’t forget to check back on Sunday for a brand new Canadian history roundup. See you then!
Leave a Reply