She didn’t just write poems.
She wrote blueprints for survival.
She wrote what colonial systems tried to erase.
And she wrote it in her own damn language.

Éléonore Sioui was Huron-Wendat from Wendake, born in 1920. She was raised in the woods and on the land, long before reconciliation was a buzzword. Her mother was a healer. Her father was a hereditary chief. She carried both lineages.

She raised her family. Then she went back to school. Earned a Master’s degree. Then earned a PhD in Native American spirituality at age 68. Not because she needed the letters, but because the institutions needed to learn from her.

She founded a cultural centre in Wendake. She launched a magazine written by and for Indigenous people in Quebec. She spoke up in band meetings. She wrote essays, poetry, critiques, and ceremony. She defended the power of Indigenous women and the sacredness of our voices.

They called her a communicator. A healer. A writer. A leader. But mostly she was a force.

In 2001, she was named an Officer of the Order of so-called Canada.

She passed in 2006, but her voice still echoes. In Wendake. In the words of every Indigenous woman who refuses to be quiet.

And in the future she helped make possible.

Source: https://www.linkedin.com/feed/update/urn:li:activity:7378750130075770880/