Chapter 1
Embracing the Sacred Journey of Resistance
Kaitlin B. Curtice's "Living Resistance" has become a quiet revolution in spiritual circles since its 2023 publication, resonating particularly with those navigating the complex intersections of faith, identity, and social justice. As a Potawatomi woman raised in evangelical Christianity, Curtice offers a unique perspective that has garnered praise from religious leaders across traditions and caught the attention of celebrities like Brene Brown, who praised the book for its "profound wisdom about belonging." What makes this work stand out in today's polarized landscape is its gentle yet unflinching invitation to resistance not as a dramatic political act, but as a daily practice of reconnection-with ourselves, our communities, our ancestors, and the earth itself. In a world where many feel spiritually adrift, Curtice reminds us of a fundamental truth we often forget: "You are a human being. You have not yet arrived, but you are continually arriving."
Chapter 2
The Four Realms: A Map for Living Resistance
Curtice structures her vision of resistance around four interconnected realms, each associated with a color, season, and element from her Potawatomi heritage. This framework isn't rigid but fluid-a living, breathing map for navigating the journey of transformation. Like the medicine wheel teachings found in many Indigenous traditions, these realms represent different aspects of human experience and spiritual growth.
The Personal Realm (red) represents our lifeblood and heart center, associated with winter when we turn inward. This is where we begin our journey of resistance, examining our beliefs, confronting our biases, and nurturing our spiritual core. During winter's contemplative darkness, we're called to face our shadows and tend to our inner healing. This realm demands courage to look honestly at ourselves and compassion to embrace what we find.
The Communal Realm (brown) connects us to earth and community during spring's planting season. Here we learn that resistance isn't a solitary act but a collective endeavor rooted in relationship. Like seeds breaking through soil, we emerge from personal work to join others in mutual support and shared action. This realm teaches us about interdependence, reciprocity, and the strength found in solidarity with others working for change.
The Ancestral Realm (blue) flows like water in summer, linking us to those who came before and those who will follow. This realm honors the wisdom of our elders, the sacrifices of our ancestors, and our responsibility to future generations. It reminds us that resistance has a long history and that we're part of an unbroken chain of people working for justice. Summer's abundance shows us how ancestral knowledge can nourish and sustain our movements.
The Integral Realm (yellow) burns like fire at our center in autumn, where we harvest and integrate all we've learned. This is where personal transformation meets collective action, where inner work manifests as outer change. Like autumn's flames transforming the landscape, this realm challenges us to embody our values and put our resistance into practice.
These realms aren't separate compartments but overlapping spaces we inhabit simultaneously. Together, they form a holistic approach to resistance that honors Mother Earth's gifts and recognizes that humans across spiritual traditions are wired for activism. Judaism values tikkun olam (repairing the world) through lovingkindness, Sikhism emphasizes equality through langar (community kitchens) and seva (selfless service), Humanists find hope in humanity's capacity for progress and compassion, Christians follow Jesus's radical command to love neighbors and enemies alike, and Potawatomi people practice the Seven Grandfather Teachings of wisdom, love, respect, bravery, honesty, humility, and truth. What unites these diverse paths is the understanding that our inner work connects directly to our outer work, and storytelling becomes the bridge between them, carrying wisdom across generations and communities.
Chapter 3
Questioning as the First Act of Resistance
Resistance begins with curiosity-with questions that challenge the status quo. When we realize our religion, country, or family traditions shame those considered "other," we face a choice: disappear into assimilation or untangle the webs of hate that made us despise our own bodies and experiences. This initial questioning often emerges from small moments of disconnect - when sacred texts seem to contradict lived experiences, when religious teachings clash with innate feelings of justice, or when traditional practices cause inexplicable pain.
This questioning often manifests as deconstruction or decolonization-examining systems that fail to acknowledge our full humanity and fighting for better alternatives. For marginalized communities especially, this process becomes not just personal healing but prophetic work. As transgender Christians question church teachings that deny their existence, as Indigenous people challenge colonial narratives about their spirituality, as Black Americans confront white supremacy in religious spaces-these acts of questioning become resistance themselves. The process involves examining historical contexts, uncovering suppressed narratives, and recognizing how power structures have shaped religious interpretation throughout centuries.
The beauty of this resistance through questioning is that it often leads not away from spirituality but toward a deeper, more authentic connection with the Divine. Many who question institutions find more love and a fuller experience of the sacred when they break free of barriers set by religious leaders who claimed exclusive authority over truth. This journey frequently reveals new dimensions of faith - discovering ancient wisdom traditions, reclaiming ancestral practices, or finding fresh interpretations of familiar texts that honor the full spectrum of human experience.
The questioning process often follows distinct phases: initial doubt, active investigation, grief for lost certainties, and eventually, reconstruction of a more inclusive and authentic spirituality. This path requires courage, as questioners may face rejection from their communities, family estrangement, or loss of social support systems. However, many find that the authentic spirituality discovered through questioning provides deeper community connections and more meaningful religious experiences than their previous unexamined faith.
Through questioning, individuals often uncover universal spiritual truths that transcend specific religious boundaries - values of compassion, justice, and human dignity that exist across traditions but have sometimes been obscured by institutional dogma. This process of questioning thus becomes not just an act of personal liberation but a contribution to humanity's collective spiritual evolution.
Chapter 4
Art as Medicine for Collective Healing
In times of collective grief, art becomes essential resistance. During COVID-19, when isolation threatened our sense of connection, artists shared their gifts online-Glen Hansard performing kitchen concerts, Morgan Harper Nichols sharing visual art-reminding us that even in pain, we create with and for each other because we belong to one another.
Indigenous-created shows like "Rutherford Falls" demonstrate how art can put our complexities on display, revealing parts of our human nature previously unrecognized. By refusing to be placed in boxes others create for us, we engage in decolonization through creative expression.
Art connects us to resistance movements throughout history, from the newsboys' strike depicted in "The Newsies" to modern labor organizing at companies like Starbucks and Amazon. Symbols like the raised fist have evolved from Mexican graphic art in 1937 to Olympic protests in 1968 to various contemporary uses, challenging us to consider how artistic symbols transform over time.
For Curtice personally, music and poetry became medicine after her father left when she was nine. Though his music disappeared with him, she eventually found her own artistic voice through guitar, singing, and writing. Now, slow mornings with books, writing, and piano ground her resistance practice, connecting her to deeper truths.
Art isn't just entertainment but a way of being in the world. Living resistance means critically examining the art we consume, questioning problematic traditions in songs like "Jingle Bells" or classroom crafts around Thanksgiving. Art heals us both individually and communally, serving as a tether to what resistance means in our personal lives.
Chapter 5
Presence, Embodiment, and Radical Self-Love
The next three interconnected chapters explore how resistance manifests in our relationship with ourselves. As a Potawatomi woman, Curtice has found that practicing presence with herself and Earth leads naturally to embodiment and the radical act of loving oneself.
In our multitasking culture, singular focus becomes revolutionary. When we eat lunch without scrolling social media, we experience a spiritual reorientation to living connectedness-with our food, our surroundings, the sunlight, the water. This practice of presence deflects the status quo of violence and disconnection, offering another way of being.
Returning to ritual-honoring seasons and cycles as her Potawatomi ancestors did, embracing cyclical rather than linear time, and valuing rest-becomes another form of presence as resistance. As Nap Ministry founder Tricia Hersey explains, rest itself can be "a political refusal and social justice uprising" against systems of oppression.
While presence is about noticing and paying attention, embodiment is what follows-the deeper integration of that awareness into our physical being. For those raised in spiritual traditions that simultaneously made us aware of our bodies yet ashamed of them, embodiment becomes particularly challenging. The evangelical purity movement, combined with layers of trauma, creates what Curtice describes as a growing distance from oneself-near total disembodiment.
The foundation of America began with disembodiment-severing Indigenous peoples from their lands and enslaving Africans, disconnecting them from their homelands. Finding home-whether in our physical bodies, our living spaces, or our connection to land-becomes revolutionary for Indigenous peoples who've been removed from ancestral homelands.
Radical self-love completes this trinity of personal resistance. It isn't about self-care that's been commodified into spa days and shopping sprees, but about entering a room within ourselves daily-not a luxury but an integral part of everyday life. Setting boundaries becomes an essential practice of self-love, whether with social media, work demands, or family expectations. As Rabbi Alan Lew writes, we've become workaholics who believe we can conquer death through ceaseless activity, never permitting ourselves a moment's nothingness. When we allow ourselves to lean into that nothingness of the inner soul, we engage in political resistance.
Chapter 6
Childcare and Ethical Practices as Community Resistance
Moving into the Communal Realm, Curtice explores how resistance extends beyond individual practice to how we care for each other. She begins with childcare-not just raising our own children but caring for all children, especially the most marginalized. We must examine how systems harm children, from immigrant detention to anti-LGBTQ+ legislation to the Indian Child Welfare Act being challenged.
Indigenous children continue to be taken from their families, an extension of the residential school system's assimilation goals. The discovery of thousands of unmarked graves at residential schools reminds us of this violent history that continues today. True resistance means creating systems where all children remain connected to their cultures.
Ethical resistance stems from interfaith work where we ask how to share practices without appropriating or silencing marginalized voices. Cultural appropriation occurs when dominant cultures take Indigenous practices and commodify them without understanding their context. This manifests in white yoga spaces, "Pocahottie" costumes, or selling white sage without ethical harvesting.
In wellness spaces like yoga, we must honor traditions by learning from Indian practitioners rather than appropriating practices. We should support studios that focus on inclusive representation for all bodies. Ethical resistance means normalizing the beauty of all bodies-fat, transgender, disabled, Brown and Black-rather than just skinny white female bodies.
Chapter 7
Solidarity and Land Protection
Solidarity work is fundamentally about being human-about belonging and kinship with all people. This reciprocity becomes challenging when we've harmed each other throughout history, yet we must practice belonging despite this.
True solidarity isn't about finding commonalities but about honoring our differences. We must listen to each other's varied stories and celebrate them. Curtice's frustration with white evangelicalism stems from its creation of an identity based in fear of "others" rather than celebrating people's humanity.
Solidarity work must address police violence affecting marginalized communities, particularly young Black men and Indigenous women who face the highest risks of being killed by police. We must also practice solidarity with disabled and immunocompromised people, who are often excluded from religious spaces through ableism disguised as benevolence.
Protecting the land builds upon radical self-love in the Communal Realm. When we care for ourselves, light emanates from our center, connecting us to others in reciprocal healing. Mother Earth exemplifies this, constantly teaching us through her emanating light. Colonialism's greatest tool is disconnecting us from the land, our bodies, and communities, making land protection essential for everyone-not just Indigenous people.
Climate activist Mary Annaise Heglar reminds us that climate change wasn't caused by generic "humans" but by specific systems of oppression-just like slavery or colonialism. The fossil fuel industry was built over Indigenous graves worldwide as people were forced from their lands. The Doctrine of Discovery-the theological and legal framework giving Christian governments "right" to seize Indigenous lands-remains largely unknown even among activists, though understanding it is crucial to addressing our current relationship with land.
Chapter 8
Kinship: The Heart of Communal Resistance
Kinship represents the culmination of communal resistance-the recognition that we truly belong to one another in profound and transformative ways. This isn't abstract but deeply concrete: we develop healing relationships with earth, ourselves, and each other through daily practices and intentional connection. Choctaw elder Steven Charleston writes that kinship must be "constantly recognized, affirmed, and renewed" through balance, justice, and mutual respect - a continuous process of engagement rather than a one-time achievement.
True kinship carries specific responsibilities and requires moving from paternalistic charity to reciprocal relationships built on mutual understanding and shared power. Imagine threads connecting your heart to every living creature-whatever affects one affects all. This interconnectedness manifests in practical ways: sharing food and resources, showing up during crises, celebrating joys together, and bearing witness to each other's pain. Kinship is rooted in storytelling and listening, requiring us to engage with each other's complex narratives without reducing people to simplistic categories or stereotypes.
Like waiting for fireflies to appear in darkness, kinship requires patience as trust and companionship develop naturally over time. We cannot force or rush these connections - they emerge through shared experiences, vulnerability, and consistent presence. Our relationship with Mother Earth, chosen family, and even the Divine should be based on this shared origin and reciprocal love. This depth of connection is often missing in church environments where hollow "How are you?" exchanges replace genuine connection and the uncomfortable spaces necessary for true kinship to emerge.
The practice of kinship demands we move beyond superficial networking to create authentic bonds that can weather difficulty and challenge. It means showing up consistently, even when it's inconvenient, and allowing ourselves to be changed by our relationships with others. Indigenous wisdom teaches that kinship extends beyond human relationships to include responsibility toward land, water, animals, and future generations. This expanded understanding of kinship calls us to radical acts of care and commitment, transforming how we live in community and how we understand our place in the wider web of life.
In times of crisis and social upheaval, kinship becomes not just a personal practice but a political act - one that challenges individualistic and competitive social structures by demonstrating alternative ways of being in relationship. Through kinship, we learn to hold both the beauty and the brokenness of our shared humanity, creating spaces where healing and transformation become possible through the power of authentic connection.
Chapter 9
Ancestral Connections and Decolonization
The Ancestral Realm represents our profound connection to those who came before us and those who will follow in our footsteps. Indigenous cultures worldwide maintain vibrant practices to honor ancestors through various sacred rituals: spirit plates filled with traditional foods, elaborate home altars adorned with photographs and meaningful objects, daily prayers at dawn and dusk, and perpetually lit candles that symbolize ongoing spiritual presence. These practices acknowledge that healing is a continuous journey that transcends physical death - both for those who've passed and for ourselves through future generations. Many Indigenous communities believe that ancestors actively participate in guiding and protecting their descendants, offering wisdom through dreams, signs, and natural phenomena.
Decolonization work must centralize Indigenous voices and leadership, or it fundamentally misses its purpose and perpetuates harmful power dynamics. Indigenous peoples worldwide stand at the forefront of movements protecting earth's resources, fostering genuine human connection, and preserving traditional kinship systems. For those participating in holidays like Thanksgiving, Curtice provides concrete steps toward decolonization: thoroughly examine and honestly discuss the historical origins, actively celebrate and support Indigenous foods and cultural practices, learn about specific tribal nations in your region, and commit to year-round engagement with Indigenous cultures beyond designated heritage months or holidays.
Generosity functions as a cornerstone of Indigenous worldviews, deeply connected to our sense of belonging and oral traditions of storytelling. This generosity ripples outward beyond immediate family circles and current lifetimes, creating lasting impact across generations. True generosity manifests as giving more than seems necessary of your time, energy, knowledge, and material resources - while maintaining healthy boundaries that distinguish it from toxic codependence. Many Indigenous cultures worldwide practice elaborate gift-giving ceremonies like the potlatch of the Pacific Northwest, where communities gather to redistribute wealth, believing that "a rich and powerful person is someone who gives the most away." Similar practices exist in various forms across different Indigenous nations, from the Lakota giveaway ceremonies to the Australian Aboriginal practice of demand sharing.
Intergenerational healing encompasses not just addressing historical trauma but celebrating inherited resilience and wisdom. As Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estes powerfully reminds us, "We were made for these times" - a sentiment that resonates deeply with Indigenous perspectives on our current global situation. Indigenous peoples recognize this moment as prophetically significant - we're experiencing both unprecedented environmental and social challenges while witnessing a powerful spiritual awakening. This mirrors the Seven Generations Prophecy, which speaks of a critical time when youth must consciously choose between continuing colonial patterns or embracing ancestral wisdom ways. This choice carries implications not just for Indigenous communities but for humanity's collective future and our relationship with the Earth.
Chapter 10
Liminality and Integration
Liminality-existing in in-between spaces-becomes a powerful form of resistance in a world that desperately seeks to categorize and compartmentalize everything. Curtice intimately describes her life as existing in these complex liminal spaces where multiple states of being converge: healing intertwines with ongoing grief, cultural identity meshes with spiritual seeking, moments of pure joy coexist with deep anxiety, necessary rest intersects with righteous anger, and countless other elements meet and merge. She emphasizes how these spaces aren't simply personal but extend across time, creating bridges where her healing work reaches backward to touch ancestors who have passed on and stretches forward to impact those who will come after her.
Drawing from her experience as a cyclist, Curtice presents a compelling metaphor for understanding these liminal spaces through the relationship between resistance and cadence. When resistance is too high and cadence too rapid, the body inevitably burns out, much like pushing too hard against life's challenges. Conversely, if resistance remains high but cadence drops too low, forward progress becomes impossible, similar to becoming stuck in life's difficulties. However, she discovers that sweet spot-that precious liminal space where resistance and cadence achieve perfect balance-which enables sustainable movement forward. This balance becomes a metaphor for navigating life's complexities while maintaining forward momentum.
The Integral Realm represents the ultimate integration-a sacred space for bringing together all we've learned, experienced, and become. Here, in this realm of wholeness, we discover our soul center, where life's experiences crack us open in ways that make it impossible to ignore our pain or deny our truth. It's characterized by a profound expansiveness that allows us to step outside ourselves while simultaneously holding all aspects of our being-our trauma, our joy, our contradictions, and our growth. In this space, our spiritual center finds its true grounding, revealing not just personal truth but the interconnected beauty of the universe itself. This realm teaches us that integration isn't about perfect resolution but about holding space for all parts of ourselves and our experiences, allowing them to coexist and inform each other in ways that lead to deeper understanding and healing.
Chapter 11
Prayer, Dreaming, and Lifelong Resistance
Prayer has been redefined for Curtice over time. In her Southern Baptist upbringing, prayer was a list of sins and apologies to a disappointed god-shackles rather than connection. She's realized prayer can shift with life seasons, sometimes being early morning reflection, sometimes random utterances of "help" or "thank you."
Prayer as resistance means rejecting the status quo that prayer must look a certain way-white, Christian prayers to a patriarchal deity. Instead, it's finding the sacred in daily tasks, in poetry, in asking questions and waiting for answers in the wind. To decolonize prayer means integrating it into all aspects of life and embracing a spirituality that challenges compartmentalization.
Dreaming becomes the final form of resistance-creating visions of what could be. Initially, Curtice worried the word "vision" seemed too soft compared to "framework," reflecting her own colonial mindset. But creating a vision is holy work-cyclical and fluid, not structured and limiting. A vision lives and breathes; it's a way forward, a dream that is sure to come.
Living resistance doesn't always mean having both feet on the ground, but it means being grounded nonetheless. It's about honesty regarding who we are, who we're not, how we're doing, and what we're capable of at any moment. Sometimes resistance is taking a dog for a walk, checking in with children, eating a healthy meal, or crying when needed. It's recognizing limitations and saying: I am a human being. I am always arriving. Resistance is simply choosing to arrive.
We have arrived, but we are still arriving. Curtice encourages us not to give up before reaching pivotal moments. Keep going, finish the song, take the last glorious bite. We are always arriving, but make sure you actually arrive, even if it's just to the next step of the journey.
