FHQ Virtual School - Understanding Cultural Appropriation

Introduction

Here's the honest truth: when you're making art or you're curating someone else's work, you have power. Real power. You decide what gets seen and what doesn't. You decide which stories matter, which ones get celebrated. You pick whose work gets amplified. You decide who stays invisible.

That power matters. It actually does.

And it comes with responsibility. Yeah, this is about being respectful, but it's more than that. It's about understanding something fundamental: when you take from a culture that isn't yours—when you actually take it—you're making a choice. You're deciding whether you're building people up or profiting off them. Whether you're respecting something or stealing it.

Look, we live in a world now where art just travels. A trend hits TikTok. It gets shared. It gets shared again. The context disappears somewhere along the way. What started with actual meaning becomes decoration. That's why this matters. That's why I'm asking you to think about it.

This handout will help you think through what cultural appropriation actually is, why it happens, and what it looks like when you're the one making the choices.

Let me be clear about what we mean here. You take something from a culture that isn't yours. You don't ask permission. You don't understand what it means. You don't credit the people who created it.

That's the thing. You're pulling what looks interesting or cool. You're ignoring everything else—the context, the meaning, the history, the actual people. Taking without asking. Learning without listening. Profiting without saying where it came from.

This happens everywhere. I mean everywhere. Visual art. Music. Dance. Theater. Literature. Fashion. Every medium. So let me give you examples:

Visual Art: Think about luxury brands. They've launched whole collections using Indigenous beadwork patterns and sacred designs. Millions of dollars. The Indigenous artists and communities who actually made those patterns? They see nothing. Zero dollars. No credit. No control over how their work gets used. The patterns lose their original meaning. They become just pattern.

Music: A producer finds drums from a West African traditional recording. They flip it into a hit song. The song goes platinum. The original musicians—invisible. The African tradition that developed those rhythms over centuries—also invisible. The credit goes elsewhere. The money goes elsewhere. That's extraction.

Dance: Imagine a choreographer making a piece "inspired by" Indigenous movement traditions. They never collaborated with anyone from those communities. They have no idea what these movements actually mean spiritually or culturally. But they perform it. They get accolades for it. They get paid for it. The original tradition? Sidelined. They took the look without the substance.

Literature: A non-Indigenous author writes a bestselling novel from an Indigenous character's perspective. Uses Indigenous voice. Uses Indigenous stories. They become celebrated for their "authenticity." Meanwhile, Indigenous authors who actually live these stories? They can't get published. Can't get deals. The narrative gets told from the outside. Often gets told wrong.

Drama: You've seen this happen. A theater company casts non-Indigenous actors as Indigenous characters. Or you have a non-Indigenous playwright writing "Indigenous stories" for money, without consulting anyone from those communities. The story becomes a caricature. Full of inaccuracies. Stereotypes everywhere.

Costume & Fashion: People wear Indigenous headdresses to parties. Like they're just accessories. They put on traditional garments without any context, turning thousands of years of cultural development into a costume choice for one night.

What's the common thread here? Someone with power takes something that isn't theirs to take. They get something out of it—money, or acclaim, or credibility. The original culture loses control of their own work. Their stories get told by someone else. Sometimes told wrong. Things that were sacred become decoration. They're left completely out.

That's what appropriation is.

You need to understand the history to understand what's happening right now.

For centuries—and I mean centuries—powerful countries colonized less powerful ones. They took land. They took resources. They took people. And they took culture too. Music. Stories. Art forms. Sacred practices. Some of it they destroyed. Some they claimed as their own.

A pattern got built into the system. Still is. The group with more power gets to take from groups with less power. The dominant group profits. The marginalized group loses control.

Here's what's important: that pattern didn't stop when colonialism officially ended. It just kept going. It's still happening.

A luxury brand launches a collection using Indigenous designs they didn't ask permission for. Nobody asked. A music producer samples traditional rhythms without crediting where they came from. A non-Indigenous author gets a book deal telling Indigenous stories while Indigenous writers stay unpublished. The system functions the same way it always has: power takes. People without power lose.

The people doing the taking usually don't see it this way. They think they're being creative. They think they're inspired. They think they're sharing art with the world. But—and this is important—there's a real difference between being inspired by something and extracting from it. You can share art. You can learn from art. You don't have to erase where it came from to do that.

When a community loses control of their own narratives and traditions, there's actual damage. Real consequences.

Their stories get told wrong. Sacred things become jokes or decoration. The original artists and the communities they come from see zero money. Kids in those communities grow up watching outsiders represent their culture instead of their own people. The actual tradition disappears while the stolen version becomes famous.

This isn't about oversensitivity. This is about understanding that extraction and exploitation have been happening for a very long time, and honestly, we're still living inside that pattern.

So what's the actual difference?

When you appreciate a culture—genuinely appreciate it—you're learning with people from that community. You ask first. You collaborate. You try to understand what things mean and where they come from. You make sure the original creators get credit. They share in whatever benefits come from it. You get that some things are sacred, that they're not meant to be shared outside the community. When you do engage with the work, you're amplifying their voice, not replacing it with your own interpretation.

Appropriation? It's different. You take what you want without asking. There's no collaboration. You ignore the meaning and context. Maybe you don't care enough to learn it. Maybe you just don't want to. You keep the credit. You keep the money. The original culture gets nothing. You treat sacred things like they're just aesthetic choices. You replace their voice with your version.

One builds actual connection. Real relationships. The other repeats a pattern that's very, very old. A pattern of harm.

For Curators: The Question That Matters

Here's what I want you to understand: when you curate art, you hold actual power.

You're making decisions about what gets seen. You decide whose voice gets heard. You determine which stories matter. If you choose to show an artist's work, you make them visible. You open doors. You help them reach people. You might help them make money.

That's power.

So before you decide who to include in your curation, ask yourself: Who actually benefits from me showing this work?

Let's say you're looking at artists working with Indigenous themes or traditions. Before you curate them, you have to know: Is this artist actually from that community? Or are they an outsider looking in? If they're an outsider, did they work with the community? Did they ask permission? Do they credit where they learned? When your curation happens, is the Indigenous community going to benefit? Or is it just the non-Indigenous artist getting visibility and money?

Here's a concrete scenario: You find a choreographer. Let's say they're not Indigenous. They're making beautiful dances "inspired by" Indigenous movement traditions. They never collaborated with people from those communities. Zero credit to the tradition. The dances are visually beautiful. But if you show them, if you curate them, you're using your power to amplify a non-Indigenous voice while the actual tradition stays invisible. You're participating in appropriation. Whether you intended to or not. That's how it works.

This applies to everything. A novelist writing Indigenous voice when they're not Indigenous. A musician sampling traditional music and not crediting it. A playwright writing "Indigenous stories" without consulting Indigenous communities. A visual artist taking sacred symbols and using them as decoration.

You get to choose. Choose intentionally.

Before you create something or curate something, sit with these questions. Actually sit with them.

Do I understand why this work matters? Not just aesthetically. Not just "it looks cool" or "it sounds good." What does it mean to the artist? What does it mean to their community? What tradition is it rooted in?

Is the original artist fairly represented? Are they getting credited? Do they benefit? Is their voice centered, or am I inserting my interpretation?

Have I actually given credit? Can I trace where this comes from? Can I name the traditions? The communities? The artists?

Would they feel respected? Be honest. If someone took your work. Used it without permission. Made money. Didn't give you credit. How would you feel?

Here's the thing: you're going to mess up sometimes. You're going to learn things you didn't know. That happens. That's normal. What matters is that you're thinking about it. That you're trying. That you respect the people whose work and culture you're engaging with.

That's cultural appreciation.

Resources for Learning More

NAEA Position Statement on Cultural Appropriation and Socially Just Practices

Canada Council for the Arts — Cultural Appropriation Brief

Indigenous Digital Literacies — Cultural Misappropriation

Britannica — Cultural Appropriation

The Art of Education — Considering Cultural Appropriation in the Art Classroom