academic works
a reclamation of process, a rejection of knowledge as currency and a return to knowledge as relation.
returning Knowledge to the fire.
There is a law older than paper, older than ink, held in the stories and lore of a landscape and the people who still live in relation with it. Knowledge was never meant to be locked away – it was meant to move, to flow, to be carried in relation. The stories of our ancestors were not written in books but etched into the land, sung into existence, and woven into the very fabric of how we live. Knowledge was something you walked with, something you practiced, something you were entrusted with – not something hoarded, sold, or owned.
Somewhere along the way, knowledge was boxed in. Extracted. Dissected. Taken from those who carried it and placed into institutions that now hold the keys to who can access it. You need the right credentials, the right funding, the right university affiliation to even glimpse at what should have always belonged to the people.
That’s not how it works here.
The VA Network stands as an act of return. A movement that breaks the fences built around knowledge and brings it back to the fire, where it belongs. Where it can be spoken, questioned, held, and passed forward in the way it was always meant to be. This is knowledge in Wangu – in collective sense-making – where learning is not an individual pursuit but a shared responsibility.
This is why we do the work and put it out there. Freely. Openly. Without restriction. No paywalls, no tuition fees, no institutional approval. If you seek knowledge, it should be accessible to you. Not parceled out to the privileged few, but held within the fire for all to sit with.
A Living Archive of Thought & Inquiry
Knowledge in Motion
These works are not just academic texts – they are offerings to the fire, carried forward so that knowledge does not stagnate but moves, grows, and returns to the people. Here, you’ll find a collection of deep inquiry, critical thought, and Indigenous-led research that challenges, disrupts, and reimagines the ways we come to know. From published articles to long-form essays, from the PhD thesis in progress to reflections that refuse to be bound by institutional walls – this is knowledge shared in right relation, accessible to all, held with care, and meant to be carried forward.
Knowledge is a living thing. It is meant to be carried, retold, reshaped in conversation, and understood through experience.
Too much knowledge sits behind locked doors, accessible only to those with the right credentials, the right funding, or the privilege of university access. Journals demand fees. Universities require tuition. Knowledge – especially Indigenous knowledge – has been extracted, published, and then sold back to the very people it was taken from. A thesis locked behind a university server is a tree falling in a forest with no one there to listen.
That is not how knowledge is meant to move.
This is why we do the work and put it out there – for free. Not hidden behind institutional paywalls. Not buried beneath tuition fees and scholarships that only a few can access. This work is not affiliated with a university, because it does not need to be. It is written for those who need it most: the communities whose stories are being told, the students who are searching for something beyond the Western academic framework, the knowledge keepers and elders who have been speaking these truths long before academia existed.
Ensuring Knowledge Moves Forward
Scholarships & Education
Decolonizing knowledge means more than just making it free – it means ensuring that the next generation has the tools and opportunities to carry it forward. Part of what we do is provide scholarships and education programs for Indigenous and First Nations people around the world.
We support young knowledge keepers, filmmakers, writers, and researchers who are walking the path of reclaiming and strengthening their traditions. We fund projects that ensure Indigenous voices are not just included in academic conversations, but are leading them. We invest in learning spaces that exist outside the university system—on Country, in community, in relation—because education does not only happen in lecture halls.
We are not waiting for institutions to make space. We are building our own.
entities with responsibilities and obligations that come to being in kin with them. This is not a place for extraction, for taking without giving, for consuming without care. It is a place where the old laws still hold weight, where stories are not commodities but custodians of knowledge, carrying the breath of ancestors and the futures of those yet to come.
To be here is to respect the Fire Protocols – to listen deeply, to honor the voices that have carried these stories through time, and to understand that not all stories are yours to hold. Some must be passed with care. Some must be met with silence. Some will ask something of you, changing the way you see, the way you move, the way you belong.
This is not just another platform. This is a campfire burning across generations, across lands, across cultures, across times – a fire tended with purpose, where stories are given their rightful place, and where those who gather do so with intention.
The flames do not belong to any one person; they belong to the stories themselves. And they burn bright enough to light the way forward – for those who come with open hands, for those who seek with open hearts, for those willing to step into the great web of connection and carry the fire with them.
The work exists. The knowledge is here. The question is – how will you engage with it?
If a university or academic institution wants to use this work – let’s talk. Let’s discuss how it can be done in right relation. Let’s ensure that Indigenous knowledge is not simply being cited but is being honored, valued, and compensated.
More importantly, let’s talk about how we can bring an Indigenous standpoint into the system—not just as a topic of study, but as a way of knowing and being that shifts the foundation of how knowledge is structured. Decolonization does not mean burning the system down – it means transforming it from the inside, bringing other ways of knowing into the fold, ensuring that academia is not just a place where knowledge is stored, but a place where it is truly alive.
The most important work is not just in producing research – it is in changing the way research is done. It is in returning knowledge to the people and places it belongs to. It is in ensuring that the next generation does not have to fight for a seat at the table, because they are already building their own.
To the sponsors who fund this work—not as an investment in transactions, but in transformation—we thank you.
Special Thanks to Our Sponsors
This work would not be possible without those who walk beside us, carrying the fire forward. Your support ensures that Indigenous research, thought, and storytelling remain in the hands of those who carry it with care. Because of you, knowledge flows freely, reaching those who need it most, and shaping futures that honor the wisdom of the past.
To the institutions, educators, and knowledge keepers who have recognized the value of this work and chosen to amplify it—thank you.
Special Thanks to Supporting Institutions
Your willingness to hold space for Indigenous-led research, to challenge the structures that have kept knowledge locked away, and to share these works within your networks ensures that these stories, ideas, and teachings are not just heard, but lived. This is how real change happens—through reciprocity, through relationship, through the act of listening and learning together.
