We’re Not Broken.
Gently Unpacking Lateral Violence in our Communities
By: Kaila Maillet, Founder of Cocahq N’Pisun (Spirit Medicine)
DISCLAIMER!
Parts of this post might be...unsettling and while that is the intention, I don’t want it to hurt so let’s begin gently. If you feel activated at any point reading this, I want you to take deep breaths. You are safe, we are safe. This might sting at first, and before you proceed you should know that once you begin this shift, there is no going back. You are here for a reason. Lets walk together.
You are not the problem. Our people are not the problem. The truth is much of the hurt we see in our communities is not born from who we are, but from what has been done to us. Lateral violence is one of those hurts. In Indigenous communities across Turtle Island, lateral violence often goes unnamed. It hides beneath everyday interactions “Lazy, stupid, dirty, no-good, wrong, weak”. Lateral violence lives in our homes, it attends our community meetings, it’s even part of our elections. It looks like blame. Like shaming. Like public callouts and backdoor whispers. It looks like trying to "fix" problems dressed up as people. It’s not helpful or insightful its superiority complexes framed as “the way forward”, it’s internalized colonialism.
What is Lateral Violence?
Lateral violence is harmful behaviour that we direct toward each other, rather than toward the systems responsible for our oppression (Clark et al., 2016). It can include gossip, bullying, shaming, exclusion, and internalized oppression. The term recognizes that violence has been pushed laterally (onto one another) rather than up, toward the systems and structures that have harmed us. People who are criticizing or belittling community members who receive income assistance, using election platforms OR social media reach to highlight community “weakness” in punitive ways. Framing community challenges as personal failings rather than systemic outcomes. Shaming people for not speaking the language, not participating in ceremony or not meeting a standard of “good Indigeneity”. Lateral violence is exile from the people and communities who are responsible for caring and nurturing us.
Deep Roots & Bitter Medicine.
Colonialism disrupted Indigenous systems of governance, kinship, and support. The residential school system, the Sixties Scoop, and ongoing systemic racism introduced punishment-based, hierarchical models of control. When we use shame, hierarchy, and punitive accountability against our own people, we’re replicating colonial logics (Bailey, 2021). Promises and slogans framed around "fixing" people are actually grounded in settler colonial values. Productivity over wellbeing, individual blame over collective care, and respectability over radical inclusion (Alfred, 2009). If I am being SO for real (I mean this as respectfully as I possibly can) my greatest “opposition” in professional settings is never the person in the room I THINK it is going to be. It is always the person who looks like my auntie, and talks like a cop. And I ALWAYS react, because it hurts more when it comes from the face across the table that you thought would “get it”.
Helping rooted in ceremony NOT stigma.
Rejecting lateral violence doesn’t mean rejecting accountability. We can hold each other in love. Many of us are remembering how to frame community needs in terms of support, not punishment. We’re asking, “What happened to you?” instead of “What’s wrong with you?” We are rebuilding systems that respond to harm with healing, not exile. We are learning to speak up with compassion when we see internalized oppression playing out. Our ancestors practiced relational accountability. Not control, not punishment. Let us return to that.
Stay Woke Fam;
This post isn’t to call anyone out. It’s to call us back. Back to community. Back to relational strength. Back to remembering that we are not broken, we are burdened. We carry so much and we continue to rise. We remember. We reclaim. We heal when we lift each other up not when we tear each other down. Choose love, choose legacy. Skoooo
If this read stirred something in you be it grief, recognition, defensiveness, or even hope, you’re not alone. These conversations are hard. But they are also sacred.
We created a free, reflective companion called Unsettling the Helpers for anyone walking with others in a professional or personal way. It’s a gentle, non-judgmental guide designed to help us identify and release colonial patterns in how we show up to help.
🪶 Download the reflection tool here:https://www.cocahqnpisunspiritmedicine.ca/s/Unsettling-Crisis-Support.png
(Link will open in a new tab. Use it privately or as a group resource for learning and unlearning together.)
Reflection Questions (for personal or group use)
Have I ever witnessed lateral violence in community spaces? How did it make me feel?
Have I unintentionally participated in lateral violence? What do I need to unlearn?
What is a supportive, loving alternative to the behavior I saw or participated in?
How can I use my voice to interrupt harm without causing more harm?
Citations (for the academics among us)
Alfred, T. (2009). Wasase: Indigenous pathways of action and freedom. University of Toronto Press.
Bailey, K. A. (2021). "Decolonizing shame: A journey into healing." Canadian Journal of Native Education, 43(1), 98-113.
Clark, N., Hunt, S., & Ferris, C. (2016). Intergenerational trauma and Indigenous healing: A qualitative study with Indigenous women. University of British Columbia
