It’s been three years since the COVID-19 virus was declared a global pandemic. This month we invited Two Spirit elders to reflect on the impact COVID has had on our Two Spirit communities over the last three years and to remember the many ways our Indigiqueer relatives have stepped up to support each other.
As a mental health provider, the impact I really saw on our Two Spirit and Native LGBTQ community was depression, anxiety, and isolation. Early in the pandemic I created a support group for Two Spirit and Native LGBTQ people along with a couple other people. Marlon Fixico, who just recently passed away, was part of that and was highly respected among our group, because he held himself in a very traditional way. He made sure that we always opened with a prayer, closed with the prayer. He offered services to other Two Spirit and Native LGBTQ people, especially those struggling with addiction. If I couldn’t show up for the group, I would ask if anyone would lead the group the following week, and Marlon would always step up and do it. He knew, we all knew, that as a community we would be isolated, that we wouldn’t be able to be part of ceremony for a while. He was such an important part of that group.
The biggest thing I heard from participants in the groups I facilitated is if you were taking care of someone—because we know our Two Spirit community members, they’re caretakers—if you were taking care of someone you couldn’t talk about the impact of the pandemic on yourself with them. So this support group was for people to be able to come and talk about their experiences, to sit and cry, to worry about family members and cry, to grieve family members who passed away from COVID. We met every week. We had 10 to 25 people. I didn’t call it a mental health group, because that stigmatizes it. It was a support group. We wanted to create a safe space for our Two-spirit and Native LGBTQ+ relatives to be in community.
We did many things. We had a virtual Halloween party where we played Bingo. At Christmas we drew names and everyone exchanged gifts virtually which included electronic gift cards or we mailed our gifts. We had a New Year’s Eve party. When an individual from the group contracted COVID, the group mailed electronic gift cards to them to help make sure they were fed, got the medication they needed, all of that. We invited elders to the group—Clyde Hall, Beverly Little Thunder, Steven Barrios—our Two Spirit elders. We had about four or five elders that came just to give encouragement to the group members, give them support, give them some cultural knowledge.
If there was a hard session, we always reminded people to burn medicine, and I would also do this exercise with them where I would tell them, wherever they were, to go outside, take their shoes off, walk barefooted on Mother Earth, put your toes into the ground, feel her, feel that dirt and guidance. When they came back the following session they’d say, “You know, that was really helpful for me, because it grounded me. I felt her power.” We had several group members say that the group saved them because they were suffering from depression, anxiety and isolation.
The elders always reminded me, too, to take care of myself, using our traditional medicines to help with my own challenges. It was hard. We were isolated. I’m a mental health provider, so I was working with 16 people. I worked weekends. That community space, those cultural understandings, and the teachings from our elders, that’s what got me through COVID.
-Lenny Hayes, MA, enrolled member of the Sisseton Wahpeton-Oyate of the northeast corner of South Dakota and owner of Tate Topa Consulting, LLC
I don’t feel like I’m out of COVID. I’m still there. I’m still worried about my grandchildren. I’m worried about my own stuff. I’m still scared. I think the hardest part of it was being determined that I’m going to protect myself even if other people aren’t protecting themselves. Some people I really cared about died, because they didn’t protect themselves. That was difficult. I still want to keep a distance from people. Hide out. It’s like living in this foggy cave. One of the thoughts that I had—that I still have—is that it’s no worse than what we’ve been through already. What our people have had to do to survive. For so long, we’ve had to deal with being treated as if we don’t exist. The news is never about us. Hardly ever. There is a way that COVID made me be a little bit more invisible. I like disappearing a little bit, and I also know it’s not totally healthy. But now I’m having a hard time returning from that. Even doing this interview is difficult. Coming out on the cave.
I’m still disappearing myself to a certain degree, so I can’t say I’m totally coping. But the way I did cope was to continue to reach out to people that I know cared about me or that I care about. That was a way of remembering that I’m still here. They’re still here. I went out with other Elders to drop off food for Elders and community. There were things that happened during COVID, ceremonies and people’s funerals—and I didn’t go. I think coping was deciding I wanted to live. Like, that’s a big cope. I do want to live. I don’t want to live all the time. There are moments I don’t. But I’m making that decision that I want to live.
It is really hard to watch older people struggle with the pandemic. It’s really hard to see our people not know what to do with themselves when we don’t have community the way we used to. In my opinion, it put a hold on us as Two Spirit people. Like suddenly there’s not this community of people. It’s a hard question: How do we support our community when we’re disappearing ourselves? How do we make sure that we give the support we want to give to our community, that I want to give, that I’m committed to giving, when I’m disappearing myself? How can I be giving and supportive and generous of myself while also protecting myself? I’m still a little bit lost on that question.
The one thing that has been positive out of this is that I’ve gotten a lot of joy out of running into young people that are Two Spirit and saying, Hey, this is where you can reach out. You don’t have to be alone. Knowing I can still do that. It doesn’t change that. There’s a certain amount of joy that I get out of checking with people and with young people, younger people. I had some really wonderful conversations with a grandchild about how we’re in the same place of being invisible in our society, but also having to be extra careful around our safety. Having those kinds of conversations, reaching out to our younger Two Spirits and young moms and young people to see how they’re doing. It really makes a big difference. I don’t want to get lost in my own fear.
-anonymous 68 year old Two Spirit elder
