TFF ThinkTank | Land Back: A Reforming of Narrative to Regain Indigenous Autonomy

By Yujia Wang

Reflecting on the aftermath of personally experiencing sexual violence, Susan Brison argues that trauma fundamentally harms victims by stripping away their autonomy, the ability to be in control of one’s life. After experiencing the traumatic event, survivors often feel that they are “no longer the same person” they were before the incident; some become emotionally detached, some withdraw from relationships, and others alter their behaviors entirely to cope with their altered sense of self. This denial of the past self is an active effort to separate the traumatic experience from the ongoing self. However, such efforts to forget or suppress the trauma often fail, as intrusive flashbacks forcefully intrude, and the inability to fend off these relentless intrusions continues to deepen their sense of helplessness and loss of control over their own body. Moreover, as they attempt to rule out the traumatic experience related to the past self, survivors also forfeit vital aspects of their humanity, such as their “knowledge, experience… and the capacity to dream, imagine, laugh” (Brison 29). Without these basic cognitive and emotional capacities, survivors are disarmed and fail to live on; they feel stuck in time, disconnected from both the past and future.

To regain control and begin healing, victims must reconstruct a cohesive narrative by integrating the fragmented pieces of their past and reclaiming their lost capacities. This process begins when victims actively recollect what has happened, placing the traumatic episode within a broader timeline that establishes a “before” and “after” (Brison 54). By contextualizing the trauma, they transform it from an isolated, disruptive event into a comprehensible part of their life story. Unlike the passive suffering of flashbacks, the act of storytelling empowers victims to take an active role in shaping their memory. The more they engage in this process, the more they can resist the power of intrusive memories and reclaim agency over their thoughts. As victims come to terms with their past through this narrative reconstruction, they also rediscover aspects of their earlier selves—trust, hope, imagination, and the ability to connect emotionally with others. Although they may not fully return to their pre-trauma identity, they begin to rebuild these capacities within the framework of a renewed self.

This framework of narrative formation as a path to healing illuminates the broader struggle of Indigenous communities to regain autonomy and recover from colonial trauma.

Much like individual trauma survivors, Indigenous communities have experienced a violent severance from their past identities. Through policies such as forced attendance at residential schools, the banning of traditional practices, and the dispossession of ancestral lands, Indigenous peoples have been systematically stripped of their cultural and communal autonomy. Without access to their stories, songs, dances, and languages, these communities have not only lost their cultural expressions but also their means of navigating daily life. They have been denied the knowledge embedded in traditional practices: how to secure food, survive harsh winters, heal the sick, celebrate milestones, and mourn losses. Severed from this knowledge, Indigenous communities, like individual trauma survivors, are left unable to learn from their past and thus are disarmed from creating a future.

For Indigenous communities to heal, they must also rebuild a narrative that was violently fractured by colonization. However, settler states often reduce this process to cultural resurgence, a practice conventionally considered to be the reviving of traditions in isolation from land and political autonomy. Settler states such as the Canadian government assume that providing space, any space, for Indigenous practices is sufficient for restoring Indigenous autonomy. This perspective treats culture as portable and detachable from its material and spiritual context, allowing settlers to avoid more radical concessions, such as returning land or relinquishing political control. In doing so, settler states undermine the very foundation of true Indigenous resurgence.

Indigenous author Leanne Simpson critiques this superficial approach, emphasizing that cultural resurgence is inseparable from political resurgence, a direct ask for the return of Indigenous sovereignty independent of settler sovereignty. For Indigenous communities, land is not merely a backdrop for cultural expression; it is integral to the culture itself. The dispossession of land is not just the physical removal of bodies but the severing of Indigenous peoples from what Simpson calls “grounded normativity”—the deep relationship between land, knowledge, and identity (Simpson 43). This relationship encompasses the body, mind, emotions, and spirit, as well as the intergenerational knowledge embedded in the land. Without access to their land, Indigenous communities are denied the essential context in which their narratives can be formed, lived, and passed on.

Thus, the reclamation of land is not simply a material demand but a fundamental requirement for narrative formation and autonomy. Just as trauma survivors must reconcile with their past to construct a cohesive identity, Indigenous communities need their ancestral lands to rebuild their narratives and imagine a future. Land is the foundation upon which Indigenous knowledge, culture, and autonomy are rooted, and without it, true healing is impossible. Settler societies must recognize this intrinsic connection and take responsibility for returning land, acknowledging that the restoration of autonomy requires both cultural and political resurgence.