Weaving Knowledge is an ongoing project, which aims to critically examine the gaps of integrating Indigenous ways of being into largely Western scientfic ways of doing research, parallel to investigating the challenges involved in integrating mainstream science into Indigenous communities. The concept of weaving knowledge was first presented to me by Indigenous Hawaiian scholar Noelani Puniwai, and the evocative nature of this combination of words has since sparked some thoughts about the crux of starting the process of decolonising knowledge integration.
The project forefronts the voices of four Indigenous scholars from Hawai`i who all participated in the 2022 Goldschmidt Conference, which took place in Honolulu. The narrative that emerges through each of their interviews have shared common threads, namely their intersectional position within the scientific community as Indigenous women who have been forced to play by the rules of the Western scientific way while trying to negotiate their cultural identies within a field that often does not allow for other ways of knowing.
How do we weave knowledge responsibly?
In the past twenty years, there has been increasing awareness of the value of diversity in knowledge systems. With terms such as Indigenous and Local Knowledge (ILK) and the now slightly dated Traditional Ecological Knowledge (TEK) entering policymaking levels, previously marginalised knowledge rooted in place and culture was transformed from confounding variable to valuable resource. Arguably, referring to an entire body of knowledge that was previously pushed to the side by Western mainstream research as a resource is already problematic as it further perpetuates neo- liberal and colonial systems of extraction. Though this renewed recognition of knowledge diversity is a step in the right direction, the road to truly equitable knowledge production on policymaking and academic levels is still largely untrodden.
At the root of this inquiry into knowledge diversification lies the question: how do we include others without Othering? Though there is no straighforward answer to this, keeping this question in mind at all times when doing research presents a crucial starting point in thinking through the impact of one’s own work.
The framework of weaving knowledge is not meant as an end-all-be-all model to follow. Just as a handwoven tapestry can never be perfectly reproduced in another time and place because the materials, the expertise and perhaps even the person weaving it is different, the process of weaving together strands of sometimes initially incongruent systems of knowledge need a case-by-case consideration as well that honours that specificity. It is that uniqueness, those small quirks in hand-woven cloth that give it its character, something which standardization can never achieve despite being technically conventionally perfect. Standardizing our approach to varied knowledge systems limit their potential to surprise; the journey of discovery becomes a paved asphalt road instead of the slightly overgrown winding forest path that it should be.
Similarily, sometimes one may initially think that weaving together two colours will result in a beautiful end result, but along the way might discover that the chosen colours in fact clash with each other. In this case it is okay to partially unravel the work and to try again. Indeed, the process of unraveling work when dissatisfied with one’s work is something that almost all those working with fibre arts can attest to. Unraveling and trying again, with a different combination of colours, different materials, or techniques is simply part of the journey of weaving. However, oftentimes, unraveling fibres is harder and more frustrating than the process of generating fabric itself. At its extreme one gets so lost in the process of unravelling and finding the place to pick up the pattern again that it’s nearly impossible to start up again, and it leaves a permanent mark on the place where you try to restart as a reminder of that struggle. These dangers of unraveling and starting again can be said about weaving strands of knowledge just as equally. Working in locally-embedded contexts is challenging and requires flexibility, but it also necessitates a space of trust: first and foremost inter- and intra- personal trust, but also a certain level of confidence in being able to work through challenging situations while remaining accountable for one’s mistakes.
The metaphorical fabric of knowledge can only be cumulative, even in its absences. In this sense, it does not forget, but it may forgive.
On a loom not every strand has the same function, which has an effect on how easy they are to rework without affecting the integrity of the entire woven cloth. It is the laterally running warp strands that provide structural integrity to the fabric, while the horizontal strands of the weft strands have the adaptive capability to provide pattern. The combination of these two strands is essential to the creation of a woven fabric: one does not exist without the other. When translating this metaphor to knowledge integration in an Indigenous or local context especially, I see the warp strands as ILK without which the fabric of knowledge would fall apart completely and be useless. In this equation then, the weft strands are non-Indigenous knowledge and methods, which, when used correctly can be used to bolster and elaborate upon the structure provided by the local context. On the loom the weft strands are more flexible in that they can be more easily interchanged with each other, which is arguably how non-local knowledge should behave in a context that is not at home in.
A short article examining the potential utility of weaving knowledge was published in the ASLO Bulletin in December 2023.
Culturing Care 