The power of the ‘aunty’
Isabella West, Publishing Editor |
Walls that were once lined with images of Mount Royal’s early years are now adorned with locally curated and created works of art as part of the Aunties/Anti Art Exhibition.
On Friday, March 7, a new exhibit was installed on Main Street at Mount Royal University (MRU). The exhibit features works created by MRU students Alaskan Manywounds and Avery Follett, as well as the Jellybean Collective (Jaime Waucaush-Warn, Karen Pheasant-Neganigwane, Gloria Pérez-Rivera, and Celeste Pang).
Encapsulating ‘big aunty energy,’ this exhibit opened just in time for International Women’s Day and serves as a compelling tribute to the wisdom, kinship, and guidance found only in the warm yet blunt embrace of an aunty.
Aunty is more than just blood relations— “Auntie is mood. Auntie is spirit. Auntie is medicines. Auntie is dream. Auntie is hope. Auntie is smarten up. Auntie is feeling. Auntie is encouragement. Auntie keeps going. Auntie has no gender. Auntie saves lives,” as written by Edz’iu and featured as a centrepiece at the exhibition.
In most Indigenous communities, the idea of an aunty transcends the traditional meaning of the word. Aunties are often the knowledge keepers, mentors, and individuals to turn to. The word ‘aunty’ is not only given to someone because of genealogy but rather, it is given based on relationships.
This exhibition celebrates aunties across cultures and channels ‘big aunty energy’ as a presence, a demand, and a statement for inclusion in narratives from which Indigenous women, racialized people, and queer individuals have historically been excluded—with the ultimate goal of rewriting history from their perspectives.
Alaskan Manywounds, one of the artists featured in the exhibit, resonated with this vision through her work, which offers a new perspective on a familiar story.
Now in her second year of a child studies degree at MRU, Manywounds began her journey in art through the Indigenous Arts of North America course taught by Jaime Waucaush-Warn. What started as a class assignment soon became something more.
“I was a first year student, so I did it all in one night,” joked Manywounds. “I was like, ‘okay, at least it’s gonna get me a C or D…anything to pass.’”
But Manywounds didn’t receive a C or D grade. Instead, she received praise from her professor and a dedicated space at MRU for her art.
One of the most notable pieces in Manywounds’ collection, now on display, is Crawl Home to Her. This piece is inspired by the story of the wife of Chief Bullhead of the Tsuut’ina Nation.
Manywounds is half Cree and half Tsuut’ina, having grown up on the Tsuut’ina Nation. When tasked with the assignment to create art reflecting Indigenous culture in Waucaush-Warn’s class, she was caught between choosing which side of her heritage to represent. After some reflection, she chose to highlight the Tsuut’ina Nation, recognizing how little her community had been represented. Her inspiration came from the film Gunasi, directed by her relative, Eren Manywounds. The film tells the story of a time of great hunger on the Tsuut’ina Nation due to the restrictions and injustices of the Indian Act and the Indian agent. On the brink of war, Chief Bullhead’s wife consoles him and convinces him not to fight—changing the history of the nation forever—yet, as Manywounds noted, “to this day, her name and identity remain undocumented.”
“In the film, Bullhead’s wife was the whole reason why they didn’t go to war,” explained Manywounds. “She changed the course of every generation on my reservation.”
Students Alaskan Manywounds (left) and Avery Follett (right), are congratulated
on their debut at the launch of the Aunties/Anti Art Exhibition on March 7 at MRU.
Photo by Isabella West
Aunty in action
Waucaush-Warn, an assistant professor of Indigenous studies at MRU and a member of the Jellybean Collective opened the exhibition with her definition of ‘aunty.’ For Waucaush-Warn, the word aunty itself connotes love, truth, and protection.
“My aunties laugh through me. They laugh a laugh that you recall when you fall asleep as a child. This laugh calls home to me at times when times are tough, the laugh heals me,” said Waucaush-Warn. “It is a kind of laugh that not everyone gets to hear, but the kind that comes from the belly and the heart.”
By spotlighting the concept of ‘aunty’ in this project, the creators also examine the term ‘anti’—as in anti-colonialism, anti-racism, and anti-oppression. In doing so, they frame the aunty as more than just a role; she becomes an idea, a force of resistance and resilience.
Rachel Snow, guest speaker for the exhibit launch, expanded on the concept of ‘aunty,’ emphasizing its cultural significance within Indigenous communities. While reflecting on what ‘aunty’ brings to the exhibit, Snow came to realize that the ideas of ‘aunty’ and ‘anti’ were more deeply connected than she had initially recognized.
“Aunty, our term—the second mother, the helper, the cultural knowledge keeper—that person was equal with our men,” said Snow. “The second word ‘anti,’ to oppose, to be against. From the very beginning, from the time the first settler got off the boat, we have been aunties and anti because we were not subservient to our men here in this land.”
Snow’s speech, however, wasn’t just about cultural identity—it also touched on the systemic issues that continue to exist within Indigenous representation and governance. Throughout her speech, frustration with how Indigenous voices are marginalized and limited to what she described as “token positions,” was evident.
“Are we having these positions where we’re just seen, we’re there for colour, but we’re not there to bring in our very strong, beautiful understanding?” Snow questioned. “We’re not there to teach and to offer what we can bring to the table as Indigenous people, as the first people of this land.”
Snow spoke candidly about the disconnect between Indigenous communities and the policies that impact them.
“Every time we talk about something, we have to explain to the government, to the Canadian public, so they have an understanding of the background or where we’re coming from,” she said.
She explained that the solutions offered in classrooms an hour and a half away from Indigenous communities—where the realities of their people and the challenges they face are never seen or understood—will never be effective.
These solutions are “still being channelled through Indian Affairs, still being channelled through their policies and procedures, still being channelled with their idea or their definition of best interest.” However, Snow raised an important question: whose best interest are these solutions really in?
“Are we the ones who are the leaders? Are we the ones who are writing curriculum, getting tenure at universities?” Said Snow. “Or, are we having…‘token positions?’”
With this exhibit shining a spotlight on Indigenous ways of knowing, ideas, and art, it provides a platform for Indigenous voices to be heard and valued. While there’s still much work to be done, this space represents progress toward genuine reconciliation and a deeper understanding of Indigenous leadership and knowledge.
“My aunties, who are like my moms, who are a force, they also represent love, support, [and] a blunt truth that only aunty can deliver in a loving way,” said Waucaush-Warn. “I have always thought that my aunty represented anti-establishment, anti-racism, and anti-colonialism, so maybe you didn’t know it, but maybe you’re an aunty too.”
On display at MRU until August 2025, the exhibit’s next destination remains uncertain as the creative team considers its future. For now, it stands near the East Gate entrance on Main Street, inviting visitors to experience the true meaning of ‘aunty.’
