"Angry Indian Aunty Prof" by Conor Kerr
Aho
Faculty meeting and they all turn to her
When someone says a land acknowledgement,
Staring. Waiting for some sort of validation.
The kind that relieves all the white guilt but
They still teach all sorts of old dead white problematic
Men and women and don’t really give two shits
About all the students who drop out during
Shakespeare. And they want her to be everything
NDN. Decolonize my course package dropped on
Aunty Prof’s desk and she’s like “this isn’t my fucking
Job” but she doesn’t have tenure or status and the
Old white lady does and has a big say on if Aunty Prof
Can keep a job going. And she doesn’t want to have
To apply to other universities because this one is home
Land. The other one’s don’t have a prairie sunset
Turning rivers all sorts of pinks and purples. She wishes
She knew the Cree words for the colours because the
English ones don’t do it justice. She thinks about her
Students and her future and all the shit she’s gone
Through to get where she is and if any of it was worth it.
If those greys in her hair that came in hot when she
Was 25 working through a Masters in a room full
Of shitty hipster bros who thought she owed them
Her body because, because, because, they tried in
Backrooms of faculty parties but some wimpy ass
Rich kid who studies poetry isn’t going to be able to
Keep a thousand generations of matriarchal strength
Pinned down. And now she watches as he gets tenure
And dominates the meetings with land acknowledgements
And the right words. Always the right words. Couldn’t fuck her
Physically so tries to do it mentally. And she sits back and
knows that she’ll never be anything but an
Angry Indian Aunty Prof.
— Conor Kerr is a Métis/Ukrainian writer living in Edmonton. He is the author of the poetry collections An Explosion of Feathers and Old Gods, and the novels Avenue of Champions and Prairie Edge. These poems are part of a forthcoming poetic novella tentatively titled Chokecherries.
