As the National Day of Truth and Reconciliation approaches this September, those of us in Early Childhood Education (ECE) are called to engage with more than just surface gestures. As Eve Tuck and K. Wayne Yang (2012) remind us, decolonization is not a metaphor. It is not enough to merely acknowledge this day; we must confront the ways in which our sector has been complicit in the ongoing erasure of Indigenous knowledges and lives. This day is a time to reckon not only with the children who were stolen through residential schools but also with the systemic violence that continues to pervade our educational institutions.
Integrating Indigenous content into ECE must be seen as an act of resurgence, not just inclusion. Leanne Betasamosake Simpson (2017) speaks to the importance of “creating networks of reciprocity and consent” within our communities—principles that should guide how we incorporate Indigenous ways of knowing into our curricula. These ways of knowing, which center land, kinship, and relationality, challenge us to move beyond tokenistic gestures and toward a fundamental reorientation of our educational practices. What does it mean to educate children on land that remains contested, land that bears the scars of ongoing colonization? What does it mean to prepare children not just to understand the world as it is, but to imagine and create the world as it could be?
Engaging with Indigenous content in ECE is a commitment to the labor of decolonization. It is a refusal to allow our classrooms to be spaces where Indigenous histories are merely footnotes. Instead, these classrooms should be places of resistance, where Indigenous children see their cultures and histories not as relics of the past, but as living, breathing sources of knowledge and strength. This aligns with the ideas of scholars like Linda Tuhiwai Smith (2012), who argues that decolonizing education involves not only the recovery of Indigenous knowledges but also the creation of spaces where these knowledges can thrive.
As we approach the National Day of Truth and Reconciliation, let us not settle for mere acknowledgment. Instead, let us commit to a deeper reckoning, to unsettling the foundations of our practice so that we can build something new—something that truly honors the children who are still here and those who were taken too soon. This is our responsibility, and it is one we must take up with care, humility, and a fierce dedication to justice. The words of Marie Battiste (2013) offer guidance here: education must be a process that “liberates the spirit,” one that helps us to imagine and create new futures where Indigenous children and their cultures can truly thrive.
References:
Tuck, Eve, and K. Wayne Yang. “Decolonization Is Not a Metaphor.” Decolonization: Indigeneity, Education, & Society 1, no. 1 (2012)
Betasamosake Simpson, L. (2017). As we have always done. University of Minnesota Press.
Smith, L. T. (2012). Decolonizing methodologies (2nd ed.). Zed Books.
Marie Ann Battiste. (2013). Decolonizing Education: Nourishing the Learning Spirit. Purich Publishing Limited.
