There’s this really sick thing that happened with Christianity where they want to serve their god by denying their flesh. What are your feelings on negotiating making sexual art with this assumed community responsibility that Indigenous people tend to put on our artists? I know some people in your community have tried to shame you for making work about sex. Yeah, I truly believe that nothing can make us give up fighting for sovereignty.

If you get mad, they don’t listen because they go, “Oh, that’s an irrational person.” If you are sad about it, they’ll kind of look at you, but go, “Oh, I guess that’s too bad,” and look the other way.

If you say it politely, they don’t listen. And now you’re here saying you can’t handle it, and you’re coming to me to soothe you? I’m just done. What I did on stage made you feel bad or made you feel overwhelmed? But this is what it feels like being an Inuk woman, an Indigenous woman. How many times have I reassured people crying on me and all that stuff? That’s why I don’t care anymore. We were looking at the woman and nodding, being calm and not saying anything. And she grabbed Laakkuluk and hugged her so hard that the back of Laakkuluk’s earring punctured the skin in the back of her ear. I did a talk, and this white woman was screaming at us, holding our arms and crying and saying it wasn’t her. How do you resist being pulled into someone’s attempt to wallow in colonizer guilt? “Colonizer” is such a great song for channeling rage, but I especially love where you’re almost taunting your colonizer listeners, singing, “Oh, you’re guilty,” because I’m sure most Indigenous artists know what it’s like when your work touches a settler nerve.

Tanya tagaq eisfuchs