‘From our ownselves’: Acompañamiento with Indigenous Women in Perú

Introduction

International social work (ISW) continues to face challenges in the actualization of its social justice goals. This is in part due to colonial histories and the dominance of Anglo-American methodologies. One such challenge is creating innovative methodological approaches that minimize contemporary manifestations of the power differentials between the Global South and North when working across borders. A key step in horizontal work with local communities in the Global South is to examine the components, processes and decisions that shape the trajectory of projects and knowledge creation (Carranza, 2019). The crux of such work is unpacking the identities and the invested positionalities of all the actors involved (Lather, 1991). To begin this deconstruction, two interwoven processes are attended to in this inquiry. First, the complexities of ISW research, including the contemporary structures that reproduce imperialist relations (Carranza, 2018; Razack, 2002) are unpacked. The second is the potential of co-created knowledge to guide the process, when academics from the Global South living in the North ‘return home’, to engage in socially just research (Wehbi et al., 2016). To illustrate the emergent possibilities and tensions, the process of a South–North collaboration focusing on Indigenous women serves as a case example. Based on a multi-year research partnership, this article focuses on the project’s development and processes of working across borders.

The ideas and analysis in this article are based upon my reflections as a social work educator and researcher in countries of the Global South, primarily Central and South America, the Caribbean and the North. My focus is on the epistemic power allotted to the Global North in the ongoing coloniality and advanced through modernity across the Americas (Quijano, 2008). The impetus of this article is twofold: (1) to provide a critical epistemological reflection of the socio/political/cultural context of knowledge production and reproduction in ISW research, and (2) to contribute to the ethical and practical conceptualizations of centring marginalized voices in working across borders, within the parameters of the colonial matrix – which locates research in the axes of power controlled in the Global North. Some of the guiding questions for this reflection were as follows: In spaces where the advancement of globalization and colonization have deepened the historical exclusion and marginality of Indigenous women, how then, can effective collaborations occur across borders? Can meaningful engagement occur outside of Western notions of progress? Is it possible to envision new methods of ISW research, where ‘going home’ means resisting the stains of colonialism – those that I carry with me as a member of a diasporic community and those that are present in the communities I engage with? As research is not neutral (Lather, 1991), deconstructing the contextual forces makes visible how knowledge(s) are understood and defined as subjugated in ISW, in particular, that of Indigenous women living in the Global South.

The trappings of ISW

Wehbi et al. (2016) found a dearth in the ISW literature concerning those living in the Global North who are from the Global South. Much of the literature examined non-racialized people’s learnings from their encounters in the Global South (Carranza, 2018). Crossing borders and entering the diasporic space represents the historical North–South encounter as identities of racialized newcomers are constructed along that particular axis. When members of the diaspora re-cross borders to engage with communities, their assemblage of identities from the Global North is taken up in specific ways in the Global South. Ethically driven researchers are expected to examine how this impacts their work (Vanner, 2015). This process departs from how the diasporic identity from the Global South is perceived in the Global North which requires a different ethical lens. These complexities hinge on the notions of borders as an important physical and symbolic division of nations. These borders have an inherent colonial role, one that divides and subjugates. Rudimentarily, the construction of borders has contributed to the hegemonic position of the Global North and forced the Global South to the margins, including knowledge production – which ISW has been complicit in (Razack, 2009). This deepens the layers of analysis required to deconstruct collaborative work.

Prowell (2019) signals the importance of how one positions oneself when writing and interrogating conceptualizations of commonly discussed topics. I am a female member of the racialized diaspora, with Indigenous roots, and a professor at a prestigious research-intensive university in the Global North. I am from a country allegedly referred to as a ‘@*#hole’ in 2018 by the 45th president of the United States (Hirschfeld-Davis et al., 2018). As Razack (2009) points out, for racialized people in the North, we are often lumped into a larger grouping of ‘them’ and not the hegemonic ‘us’. We carry this with us during our work. My identity complicates the standard notions of an ISW practitioner: mostly White, academics and social workers ‘helping’ or ‘assisting’ in the Global South. Yet I occupy positions that historically have been deemed ‘in need’ – female, newcomer, racialized and Indigenous, these intersections have placed me along some of the most marginalized axes on the colonial grid. This positioning has also influenced my career and research programme choices.

A portion of my research programme is concerned with the connection between Indigenous peoples across the Americas, fractured by nation-state borders, and ongoing coloniality (Brave Heart et al., 2011). Social work that is concerned with borders examines the real and imagined lived implications of these colonial structures. For this project, the borders in question were built and enforced to recreate the nation-state in the colonial image, a pattern replicated across the Americas that marginalized Indigenous women by race and gender (Yuval-Davis et al., 2005). My work also focuses on the journey of migration, from the country of origin to re-settlement. Working with people who have been displaced, clinically and through my research, has provided me with knowledge of the lived implications of how borders and border crossing structure people’s lives. It also provides insight into how identities are re-negotiated in the country of settlement. For example, those who are Indigenous become newcomers, refugees, immigrants and/or asylum seekers when forcibly displaced. The role of women becomes reconstructed in the diaspora. In the Global North, women from Central America are believed to be given upwards mobility as a newcomer, but at the same time stereotyped to be ‘nannies’ and ‘pupusa maker’ (Carranza, 2018). Newcomer women are often seen as liberated, while simultaneously being restrained by their country of origin’s norms and expectations.

In the Global North, I am aware that my precarious identity means that my knowledge is challenged and less valued than that of my White colleagues. There are implications of re-crossing borders to conduct research. Engaging in ISW research from my positionality is, as Wehbi et al. (2016) named, ‘going home’ or re-crossing the borders that originally crossed Indigenous People (Cisneros, 2014). I do acknowledge the trappings of working within the discipline of social work in Canada, which has a long history of colonialism and imperialism, both nationally and internationally (El-Lahib, 2015; Razack, 2002). ISW has been criticized as advancing this type of imperialism through knowledge exports and explicitly supporting discourses of development under the rubric of modernity.

According to Razack (2002), this history has a stronghold on the present. Concerns related to social work research and its reproduction of the relations of dominance have been explored in the literature (Adams, 2019; Drahota et al., 2016). Razack (2009) notes that social work in the North continues to be ‘tinged with the stain of colonialism and imperialism’ that often permeate into the knowledge produced in and by those in the Global South (p. 11). When social workers from the North travel to the South, their practice frameworks and knowledge maintain their colonial roots (Razack, 2002). These frameworks reproduce the colonial discourse of the Global North needing to teach the Global South ‘how-to’ methods of improving their lives (Carranza, 2019). These relations support the legitimation of knowledge developed in the Global North to promote it as universally applicable and ‘useful’ in the Global South (El-Lahib, 2015). Social work practice and research in Perú have followed these notions of progress and modernity, influenced by the Global North. For example, non-governmental organizations’ (NGOs) mandates are based on the liberal discourse of equality, focusing on economic independence (Oliart, 2008).

This influence is often evident in research methods and methodologies as well as knowledge mobilization strategies. There is resistance by those working towards social justice. In order to democratize knowledge, new modes of academic–community partnerships are increasing (Adams, 2019).

There are myriad processes before data collection. In Canada, there are funding applications and University Ethics Board approval, all of which require a solid methodological plan. The base expectation of these processes is the ability of the Principal Investigator (PI) and team to execute the research and to not cause harm. To successfully do this, the methods must be validated and sound, which is reminiscent of the social sciences’ positivistic era (Adams, 2019). Embedded within this logic is coloniality which recreates the production of knowledge-based upon Global North epistemologies. These epistemologies often marginalize or commodify the experiences of the colonized ‘Other’. Some pervading questions in understanding coloniality in these processes were as follows: Whose knowledge is valued? Whose lives are afforded meaning? How can co-constructed knowledge create change in communities and academia?

These research endeavours often exploit the Global South’s local and Indigenous knowledge(s), culture and experiences. There has been an active movement in social work, both nationally and across borders, to shift these power differentials. Perhaps the most salient example is the move towards decolonial education. As Adams (2019) posits, social workers are uniquely positioned to advance the democratization of knowledge due to its history of social justice and alignment with marginalized populations. Over the last 20 years, social work has advanced ways of doing research that has at its core the goal of equal partnership throughout the research process (Adams, 2019). But the stains of colonialism remain.

Indigenous women in Perú and the paradox of development

Colonialism, and in contemporary times through modernity/coloniality, violence and social suffering have marked Latin America, including Perú. During the colonial era, Indigenous Peoples across the Americas were ‘civilized’ under the guise of progress and advancement (Brave Heart et al., 2011). Throughout history to the present, maintaining language, dress code, diet, culture and identity is a symbol of Indigenous resistance. Coloniality challenges Indigenous women’s identities differently than Indigenous men. The contours of inclusion/exclusion and belonging in Perú are demarcated by sexism, racism and classism: Indigenous women face ‘triple discrimination’ based on being women, poor and Indigenous (Ames, 2013; Centro de Culturas Indígenas del Perú CHIRAPAQ, 2017; Franke, 1990). The ‘worth’ ascribed to Indigenous women in Perú locates them in extreme areas of exclusion (Carranza, 2018) and the remnants of colonialism continue to structure their lives. Indigenous women face many contemporary challenges, including loss of language and ancestral knowledge (Keihäs, 2014), violence (Hughes, 2010), lack of access to equitable health care (Bant and Girard, 2008) and exclusion from local and global spaces (Hooker, 2005). According to D’Andrea (2007), the interlocking categories of discrimination faced by Indigenous women in Perú can be understood through ‘cultural fundamentalism’, the essentializing of Indigenous People’s beliefs and way of life. In Perú, this means that the exclusion of Indigenous People is not a consequence of biology but rooted in culture. As a result, people identifying as Mestizo/as (mixed blood – Indigenous and Spanish) are placed above and in opposition to Indigenous Peoples. Mestizo/as are considered ethnically and culturally advanced/superior based on their perceived ability to assimilate into the Perúvian mainstream, which adheres to Spanish colonial norms – including politics (De la Cadena, 1998, 2001). This discourse is seen as ideologically different from racism (D’Andrea, 2007). Adherence to colonial notions of progress has rooted Indigenous Peoples in ahistorical identities that are perceived as primitive and having specific manifestations in each locality (D’Andrea, 2007). One key example in Perú is the marketing of Indigenous women as ‘fabled’ tourist attractions.

According to Enlace Continental de Mujeres Indígenas de las Américas (2015), in Perú, colonialism continues through sexism, racism, discrimination and classism. These beliefs are tightly interwoven with gender-based violence against Indigenous women (Alcalde, 2006). In a patriarchal and racist society, public sectors do not consider the safety of Indigenous women as a priority, especially those living in poverty (Boesten, 2010). Although Indigenous women bear the brunt of exclusion, they remain at the margins of efforts to address issues affecting them. Radcliffe (2002) found that the recognition of Indigenous women in legislation and political spaces are contingent and incomplete. Despite initiatives and commitments of government and NGOs, Indigenous women have identified that their ‘Indigeneity’ or the realities of Indigenous Peoples is only understood for men (Radcliffe, 2002). This has been accomplished by requiring a foregrounding of their identity as either Indigenous or women. This fragmentation has led to an invisiblization of Indigenous women’s experiences, knowledge and histories (Radcliffe, 2002). The legacy of patriarchy embedded in coloniality has favoured men in advancing issues related to Indigenous identities (Del Aguila, 2016; Radcliffe, 2002). The findings of the initial literature review for this project, related to Indigenous women leaders and organizations in Perú, concluded that social work and human rights initiatives have largely ignored these issues.

This article contributes to the lack of literature concerning how Indigenous women navigate their day-to-day lives in a nation-state that exists on stolen lands and is working towards their erasure. In this collaboration, the goal was to engage the community in developing situated knowledge(s) as a catalyst for change using Indigenous methodologies. The research was centred on their perceptions of exclusion and how this intermingled with national and international policies to maintain their ‘underdevelopment’. One of these complexities is embedded in living in a formerly colonized space, which remains stunted by exploitation from countries in the North (i.e. mining) (Bebbington and Bury, 2009). These are the same forces of modernity that have propelled ISW. Development and modernity in contemporary times are constructs that support the Global North in its pursuit of ‘advancement’ or a ‘better life’ (Hernández-Carranza et al., forthcoming; Razack, 2002).

El comienzo (the beginning) ¹

The project began with an invitation to participate at the VII Meeting of Indigenous women across the Americas in Guatemala City in 2015. The goal was to discuss the issues faced across the Americas. Following this, there were conversations with community leaders in both rural and urban spaces in Perú. These grassroots conversations centred on how the international community, human rights advocates, social workers and others had created emancipatory strategies and methods that were not accessible to Indigenous women. Addressing ongoing coloniality based on race and gender, from the ground up, was determined to be urgently needed in the regions. The collaboration was to focus on centring Indigenous women’s own ancestral knowledge, resistance and development in the methods and methodology. This meant a departure from validated methods in the Global North to ones that reflected the realities of Indigenous women within the parameters of the funders and ethics. In these conversations, I was treated as ‘one of’ or a member of their community who brought knowledge. I spoke to the intersections of my gendered identity, with both Nahuath-Pipil, of Mayan descent, and Spanish Mestizaje. Taken up were my roots of Indigenousness and the hope, or expectation, that my connection to the Global North as a member of the diaspora would facilitate the development of the research process.

As Razack (2009) points out, when social workers who live in the diaspora return to the South, a potential hazard is to focus on unifying qualities and overestimate sameness. According to Castellano (2000), Indigenous ways are embodied in both physical and metaphysical knowledge. It resides in the spiritual realms of people’s lives. Castellano (2000) noted that Indigenous knowledge encompasses various ways of knowing beyond the cognitive, including intuition and feelings. These ways of knowing opened the door; however, in this collaboration, my female identity, ethnicity, language and heritage were only the entry point to beginning discussions. Openness about my implication in the hegemony of the North and the possibilities, tensions and limits that this produces was a necessity. Living in the North and working within the colonial university provided me access to a range of privileges that are inaccessible to Indigenous women, specifically funding and the time to plan and execute research work. It also meant that I, as a professor, had greater access to social, political and economic spaces that impacted their lives. My involvement translated into having a voice and the potential for validity. It would also free them from the time commitment of organizing and alleviated some of the emotional labour. While each of us lived along different axes of power within the stains of colonialism, it was those in the South that would be the drivers of the decisions. It was not up to those of us in the North to determine which barriers to challenge or where the entry point was. ISW has opened new possibilities (Wehbi et al., 2016), while simultaneously discounting knowledge that is lived and embodied by Indigenous women. It was the role of those in the North to navigate and buffer these trappings of ISW.

When the questions or research problem is situated in discourses of development, there is little dialogue around who assesses the ‘problem’. In these meetings, Indigenous women from several agencies wanted to open a space of reflection and connection that would inform collective organizing to discuss, define their position(s) and determine ways to bring about change. To disrupt coloniality, the research questions were driven by the Indigenous women involved in the planning. It was determined that the research goal was to understand how the barriers preventing full participation in decision-making spaces were experienced by Indigenous women and shaped their lives. First, they wanted to engage with their communities, garner interest and receive guidance and support for the project. Town halls (Zuckerman-Parker and Shank, 2008) were determined to be ideally suited for this purpose. Horizontal dialogues in Indigenous spaces, in partnership with social workers and other human rights defenders, were determined to be the vehicle to have their voices heard in the town halls – by government, NGOs and women’s organizations.

Process

The theoretical framework, Coloniality of Power (CoP) (Quijano, 2008), informed the research process. Mignolo (2008) argues that colonialism and ‘coloniality’ must be distinguished: colonialism took place over several historical phases, while coloniality exists in the current form of globalization. CoP implicates the ‘remnants’ of the colonial narrative – specifically, in the maintenance of how one is legitimized at the expense of the racialized and gendered ‘Other’(Chataika, 2012; Razack, 2002). Although colonialism ended, it resulted in the race relations and global patterning from which notions of modernity and development emerged. ‘Coloniality’ is then understood as a global model of power involving the intersections of race, class and gender (Quijano, 2008). Castro-Klaren (2008) notes that coloniality constitutes the underside of modernity, and its reach continues to expand. In contemporary times, coloniality significantly informs an imaginary ‘colonial grid’ that classifies people along racial, class and gendered lines in the social matrix ascribing worth or lack thereof. As such, the ‘colonial grid’ organizes our day-to-day life, that is, interactions and relationships (Carranza, 2018). CoP speaks to historical traumas and is localized to specific contexts and geographies. It incorporates the national and international factors that continue to perpetuate oppression, including discrimination, marginalization, violence and micro-aggressions (Rivera-Santana, 2018). This, too, informs the Coloniality of Gender (CoG) (Lugones, 2007), which speaks to the ways that gender interacts with the social arrangements of power. Indigenous women have a specific history of subjugation, subalternity and dispossession – all of which are re-animated in nuanced and violent ways over the course of their lives. The importance of connecting race, class and colonial history to current realities was a priority and provided the foundation for the methodology.

The research process was grounded in principles of community-based qualitative research, which strives for equal relationships between the parties to work towards social change (Israel et al., 1998). The cornerstone of this project is resistance to oppression by creating knowledge(s) that are local and Indigenous (Chataika, 2012). This required intentionality on the part of academics to resist allowing colonial knowledge to shape the process. To centre Indigenous women’s knowledge and facilitate horizontal dialogues, community consultations (first year) using town halls (Zuckerman-Parker and Shank, 2008) in each of the four rural and urban sites were determined to be the path forward. The approach of acompañamiento, or walking alongside, was used in planning the dialogues in the town hall. Acompañamiento (accompaniment in English) is rooted in spirituality and pre-colonial times. It allowed the research team to walk along or to accompany Indigenous women and their communities in this process of resistance (Wilkinson and D’Angelo, 2019). These learnings would inform the use of Learning Circles (García, 2003) for data collection (the second year). This article reports on the processes that took place during the first year, before data collection.

A Research Assistant (RA) was hired in each of the sites, who was Indigenous, female and familiar with or from the locality. This assisted with recruitment, translation from Indigenous languages to Spanish and learning about the local customs, fables and idioms. I (PI) and the RAs travelled to each site. These town hall meetings provided insight and familiarization with what the community felt was important, how data should be collected and what should be done with the research and knowledge mobilization. The collaborating organizations had long-standing relationships in the community, of which the RAs were members, through direct engagement.

In honouring oral traditions, relationships and connection, word-of-mouth recruitment strategies were used. This provided the RA/collaborator an opportunity to explain the project, connect with the community and personalize the invite to the meeting. The inclusion criterion was to have knowledge of or a commitment to Indigenous women’s issues. There was a focus on recruiting elders, youth, Indigenous leaders and leaders of organizations. Five of the seven town halls were attended by Indigenous women, exclusively. Many identified as mothers, sisters, daughters and community members – also as educators, social workers, lawyers, merchants, street vendors, nurses, farmers, homemakers and textile workers. The remaining meetings were attended by both Indigenous and Mestiza women, from organizations and agencies. A conversation guide had been developed by the PI/RA and collaborating organizations, which began the conversations, asking for feedback and ideas on the research questions and methodologies.

Gathering large numbers of people carries risk, as some voices are louder than others. In order to minimize this, local sharing methods provided each person the opportunity to speak and provide their ideas and hopes for the project (Zuckerman-Parker and Shank, 2008). In total, 87 people attended the seven town halls at all four of the sites. The information gathered was used to inform the research questions, data gathering and community work in the next phase of the project. This helped in the development of trust between the community and the project, including the PI and collaborating organizations. ² The centring of Indigenous women’s voices meant academics and collaborators worked to create a space where this could occur. Each town hall was co-facilitated by the PI (myself) and the local RA. In generating new ideas and knowledge, Indigenous women took the lead. Academics and collaborators watched and recorded the process. In these spaces I spoke to the pieces of my identity that I perceived as important, but was open to exploring other aspects related to the research and that participants were interested in or concerned about. As Spanish is my first language, I can easily pick up colloquialisms and nuances, which increases my ability to navigate local spaces. The RAs were accepted and understood as ‘one of’ the community. As Quechua has influenced the Spanish of Perú, using these local tongues is not only a way to connect with communities, but a method of resisting the imposition of colonial Spanish. At the same time, due to work in other countries of the Global South, my Spanish was described by some participants as ‘more melodic and refined’. There are elements of sameness framed by difference.

The town halls functioned as a space to learn, share, collect data, co-create knowledge and be reflexive. Each began with a process of what Indigenous women referred to as ‘Collecting Testimonies’. The dialogues were woven through the storytelling, and as a group, it was determined that the key themes were machismo and violence, Indigenous identity, trauma, and working towards walking a new path, or resistance. Living in colonial Perú was understood as ‘a bad system, one that is whitewashed, it values the European, the modern, the Western’. This system is understood as a trauma to, and by, Indigenous women. One Indigenous woman stated,

It is extremely important for us as indigenous women to stop at some point to talk about this [violence] because there are specific types of violence that permeate us. Even more in this context, in which we negotiate with our lives, in which justice is not achieved, in which we cannot achieve neither justice with a gender perspective, nor an Indigenous justice, and in which we end up crazy, called out, stigmatized. We are the ones who care for the seeds. We care for our ancestral knowledge. We claim our roots. we self-identify and we love what we are.

Women noted that the foundation for addressing these factors was the ability to gain access to spaces in the political and social spheres, disrupting their intentional exclusion. It was concluded that there were intentional excuses given by the state; one participant stated, ‘The State has intentionally excluded us, because we are indigenous and because we are women’. Greater participation of Indigenous women in the state could incite resistance to advance public policies or legal initiatives since they are the ones who can push the pending agenda. The participants agreed that state policies and programmes do not reflect their realities and neither do many organizations mandated to help women. One Indigenous woman indicated ‘The professionals have been educated to treat us like animals’, and that they could be dying and no one would help them. Ultimately feminist or women’s organizations did not reflect what Indigenous women need – space to come together to reflect, discuss, heal and create a path. In order to create this path, Indigenous women wanted to join, learn, share and co-create knowledge, while also preserving their ancestral ways together. Preserving ancestral knowledge was best determined to be achieved through documenting their storytelling and local craft-making. This process would assist in re-visibilizing themselves and resist and reclaim power. To provide context and situate knowledge, the intersections of past and present would continue to be explored and the town halls brought about the question, how were these stories learned, constructed and interpreted?

The direction for the next stage (year two) was envisioned; the project would facilitate new spaces to learn from each other and co-create knowledge, to focus on what transformation would look like. This process is called Ñoqanchiq (Centro de Culturas Indígenas del Perú CHIRAPAQ, 2012), a Quechua word meaning ‘from our own selves’, a method of connectivity through culture to share knowledge(s). This would further the goals set in the town halls of knowledge as resistance, achieved through the complementary relationship between Indigenous and Global North ways of knowing. Each of the four locations would utilize ‘Learning circles’, the primary method of data collection. This process would employ traditional craft-making developed by Indigenous women, used to honour their oral traditions to transmit/gather/share knowledge, affirm and reclaim culture. Along with the conversation and the research, questions would be facilitated by a local RA and elder to promote intimacy and sharing. The method of narrative inquiry would also be used to capture the stories that explore participants’ lifeworld (Connelly and Clandinin, 1990). As identified in the town halls, the goals were to share stories of exclusion, to create a healing space and to move towards resistance. In these spaces, women could describe themselves using analogies, images, metaphors, fables, local idioms, to weave historical experiences with the present, through narrative. It was determined that the ‘what’ and ‘who’ that influences these descriptions in historical and modern-day Perú would be important. This form of inquiry captured an assemblage of stories that can be central to people’s journeys. Using this method in combination with Ñoqanchiq honoured traditions and de-centred Western ways of knowing, to both complement and centre oral knowledge.

Possibilities of the CoP in ISW research

In social work practice and research, there is an active debate on the ‘insider/outsider’ position and the complexities, tensions and possibilities that identities can bring (Wehbi et al., 2016). Our identities frame our experiences and mediate how we engage in social work. This insider position provided me with unique insights about experiences of both coloniality and CoG ‘on the ground’. I was also acutely aware of the ‘colonial difference’ and how people and their Global North knowledge are perceived in the Global South. Specifically, how identities are taken up – ‘White’, Mestiza, Indigenous and the values/worth, or lack thereof, afforded to each on the colonial grid. These relations of power are continually re-organized based on positionality, intersections of identity and glocalities. This was further complicated with the unique tensions that emerged when ‘going home’ to do research (Wehbi et al., 2016). Crossing and re-crossing borders demarcates the ongoing reality of the colonial grid wherein we are all implicated.

Women spoke to their historical exclusion, current marginality, agency and resiliency, but more specifically how they envisioned their future. In these narratives, they spoke of how this research, conducted by a university located in the antecedent lands of Global North, could provide a foundation for advocacy in Perú and at international tables. Most importantly, they spoke of how they believed it could propel social change. Conducting the town halls to shape the process, coupled with connections to Indigenous women and the Global South, vested the research in the community. This is not to say that the research was not subject to the trappings of international work, funding and university agendas, but that the research team mitigated them as much as possible in pursuit of minimizing power in collaborations (Hernández-Carranza et al., forthcoming). These trappings were discussed, and the collaborators and Indigenous women were open to the possibilities of this project acting as a strategic bridge between opportunities in the Global North and mobilizing knowledge in the Global South. The exploitation of the Global South by the North was not lost on Indigenous women, as they were acutely aware of how contemporary coloniality structured their lives and this project. However, this collaboration presented an opportunity to alleviate the violence they experienced and advocate for structural change. CoP/G informed the collaborative work to centre participants’ voices, and in this work, Indigenous women made active choices in their storytelling and their contributions to the project. These choices were made trusting that the stories told would be re-authored in ways that furthered social justice.

Indigenous women actively produced their narratives and were not ahistorical characters. Women made decisions, trusting that this bridge we had built between the diaspora in the Global North and South would support their desire for change. Knowledge as resistance, rooted in a complementary relationship between Indigenous and Global North ways of knowing, was how Indigenous women and the research team envisioned the project. In this way, I was never positioned as the expert; rather, I was perceived as accompanying the process and following the lead of Indigenous women, hence resisting the position that academics often create or can find themselves in when reproducing or acting as an agent of coloniality.

Conclusion

The ways Indigenous methodologies are taken up are critical to research. Given the history of colonization and exploitation, academic spaces have caused violence to Indigenous methods and ways of knowing. To work collaboratively, within and across borders, means being invited into the spaces and listening to the process. In this case sample, the form of Indigenous knowledge creation was chosen by women, and the craft was used as a form of re-connection and sharing, supported by the project. It was the Indigenous women that granted access to ‘going home’, through language, identity and a shared history of ongoing coloniality, to work with this process. This was not my decision to make, and I was open to the women taking up the pieces of my identity that were different.

This article has provided insight into how CoP and CoG can theoretically inform collaborative ISW research projects. CoP/G can problematize the discourse of ISW and challenge identities within the social work profession, and offers conceptual and methodological recommendations for improvement. Using this analysis foregrounds how identity emerged as a central organizing feature in both engagement and the research. The discussion has provided insight into how identity can both complicate and reduce some of the negative trappings of ISW. It further speaks to the possibilities of ISW and encourages members of the diaspora to contribute to the discussion on ethical and authentic social justice work (Razack, 2002; Wehbi et al., 2016). Unpacking identity offers a great deal in terms of how social workers position themselves in power, which plays a major role in how the research will be perceived by collaborators, communities and participants. Using this theoretical application to open spaces of sharing provides insights into how research can be conducted with communities that have been historically ‘othered’.

Horizontal dialogues illuminate the ways that communities and participants can actively engage in the research process and shape how the knowledge is constructed and will be taken up. Re-creating the margins as the centre in this research required both access and insider knowledge; however, navigating pieces related to this were dependent on ‘outsider’ knowledge as a member of the diaspora. Living in the Global North provided access to funding and the ability to perform the labour outside of the partners’ and women’s scope. Occupying this space challenges the traditional role that academics often play in ISW and when ‘at home in foreign lands’. Centring and following the lead of the partners and Indigenous women allowed the project to walk outside of the well-worn path of coloniality.