As a two spirit academic and scholar, I spend a lot of time thinking, and thinking about thinking. The amount of time I put into staring at the wall with no sound or interruption probably rivals that of anchorites, if we're being honest. Lately I've been playing with a handful of ideas that I am only just beginning to actually express, but I kinda want to put the rough thoughts down here.
Radical joy is the most thought through of the bunch, having actually written a paper and given a lecture on the matter. It's also to be frank the least radical sounding concept I work with. But we persist because it is a good groundwork for actually making decisions and taking action. The short of it is thus: choose every day to critique what is expected of you. There are a thousand ways to engage in radical joy, but the first and foremost is to start by asking why you are expected to do things one way, or act like this or that, or be and identify in a certain way. Ask yourself, ask others, if this really does benefit yourself, your community, your world. Question everything, change what you must, and then choose to engage consciously. This is radical joy.
Radical boredom sounds funny, but it is critical, I think, to developing the skills and capacity to learn and grow and resist. Radical boredom is why I stare at the wall in silence every day. I practice being bored daily, until I can't stand it any longer, because it builds up my distress tolerance. My brain doesn't start unbearably crying out for stimulation when I'm just thinking anymore. It gives me time to think things through, be patient with myself and others, to take a full and thorough stock of myself and my world, to endure when learning plateaus and I stagnate. Radical boredom is the skill you need when you've made the choice to undertake some sisyphean or Herculean task, because you will be prepared for the boring nature of doing the work. Don't confuse this for sunk cost fallacy, though. If it sucks hit da bricks, but don't let the time pass anyways if you're working towards a worthy goal.
This is one of my most important academic concepts, and definitely my most important literary concepts. I hold that the most engaging and thorough means of learning is through becoming, metaphorically or metaphysically, the subject of the matter. You, dear reader, would benefit from shapeshifting, becoming the character, the subject, the intended audience. This is why my work is largely in second person. In my fiction it's to promote escapism and engagement, you are literally the main character, having their experiences and thoughts. In my academics it's too offer the reader a chance to see the research from the inside, to remove the barrier between reader and subject, to give humanity to the research and the researched in ways largely not allowed in academic research. It is a direct challenge to objectification.
This one is a double whammy idea of both indigenizing and queering, in the academic senses of the terms. To indigenize is to reframe an idea into an intergenerational, land based, and expansive relational ontology, based in and informed by the indigenous nations whose lands on which you live, their thoughts and traditions and histories, as well as the very lands themselves, with all the plants and animals and stones and landforms, and the community around yourself, and the generations forward your actions may impact. To think in regard to all these relations, to plan and imagine and research with an eye for the world around you and the world yet to come. Queering, on it's own, is a questioning and a critiquing of norms and expectations, engaging a subject not just on its own terms, but in a holistic and subversive manner. To queer is to call into question systems of oppression and hegemony that play out in academics and in life. Indigiqueering is thus then a combining of these two things, a reframing and a questioning, a focus on land and history and a critique of hegemony in our actions and words. To indigiqueer is to question why "this is the way it has always been done" is enough, to look for new traditions that better serve our communities in this climate crisis, in the healing of two spirit identities, in the face of the many epidemics that suffuse our families. To indigiqueer is to look for a better future for all our relations, all generations, and not allow our history of trauma and oppression become a shackle against growing and healing.