The Two-Spirit Journal is excited to share the eighth installment in this series where Two-Spirit people across Turtle Island share their personal observations and reflections of the current Covid-19 pandemic we are all experiencing.
In this installment, we hear from Todd Phelps, who has returned home to weather COVID-19, and Rope Wolf, who recently retired and move with their wife and mother-in-law from the Bay Area to Santa Fe, NM.
The Two-Spirit Journal welcomes any and all submissions from anyone who wants share your personal observations and reflections of how you are dealing in these uncertain times of COVID-19; if you are self-isolating, what are you doing to keep yourself busy and what do you miss the most. Send your responses (in any format) or any questions to [email protected].
Two-Spirit Journal thanks everyone who has already answered this call and has sent in their responses. Keep the responses coming in, and they will be posted!
Remember keep safe! As Gayle Pruden stated so beautifully in the second installment of this series, “Praying, singing, dancing and laughing are my medicine and washing my hands, not touching my face, practicing physical distancing and finally staying home if I’m sick or if I possibly came in contact with Covid-19!”
Todd Phelps is a member of the Sisseton-Wahpeton Lake Traverse Tribe of South Dakota. Growing up in Rapid City, SD, Todd attended school both on and off the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation. Todd attended Stanford University attaining a double major with honors in Psychology and Native American Studies. Todd later attended Columbia University’s Mailman School of Public Health to attain a master’s in public health with a concentration in Healthcare Management. Todd also received his Master of Business Administration from an online pilot study program, which has recently received accreditation. Todd has worked extensively in the healthcare industry hoping to promote health equity for those either who dwell or are forced to the margins of our society. Todd has worked as a care coordinator for a culturally tailored HIV/Hep-C program for Native Americans. Todd later moved to administration at a diverse healthcare organization conducting quality improvement and data analysis. Todd also provides technical assistance to Native American grantees part-term on a California-state reducing disparities project. The project’s aim is to create evidence-based practices for diverse communities. Todd currently is working towards his Ph.D. in Clinical Psychology at the University of North Dakota. Todd’s professional focus is on creating evidence-based practices coming from within communities with a larger vision of creating a wellness non-profit. Todd also is working on a 5-series book collection focused on spirituality and philosophy.
Hello everyone. I hope this finds you and your loved ones safe and hopeful. These times are challenging, and I hope everyone is taking necessary steps to nurture and protect all spheres of self (biological, psychological, social, emotional, and spiritual). Many of our traditional life trajectories have changed drastically over the last few weeks, so many, if not most, of us are in a state of ambivalence. Know you are not alone in this experience and never forget friends and family are only one phone call away!
Logistically speaking, COVID-19 has provided many blessings for me. My coursework has moved to an online platform, which has allowed me to be back home in South Dakota throughout the pandemic. This is my first time being home for longer than two weeks in almost six years. The online platform has allowed me to work at my own pace, which has positive implications. I was able to finish all my homework and final projects before the semester’s end and only have my final exams to worry about come Mid-May.
The time home has been quite nurturing. Reconnecting with family and being in the presence of people who unconditionally accept me has helped uplift much mental distress I endure in North Dakota, where I attend school. The blessing of nurturance has proven the impact both environment and social support have on an individual’s capacity to achieve goals. The decline in mental distress has allowed me to flourish in my schoolwork and personal projects. I am writing a 5-book series, and the first book, The Winkte’s Life Lessons Learned Through Lived Traumas, is in its final stages and should be set to release the first book in this series at the end of May 2020.
My experience from the global shutdown has been quite different from other’s experiences. My heart goes out to those who are essential workers during this pandemic, those who have contracted COVID-19, and all their relations. These times are not easy for society. Especially for those who are sitting ducks at home. We have built a culture where we live from experience to experience. The isolation impacts people’s sense of self, hinders fulfilling desires, and generally impacts people’s mental states.
Being a highly spiritual person, I have reflected extensively on what this experience caused by COVID-19 means to me. From my reflections, I have focused on the parallels between the stay at home orders and the everyday lives of prisoners. The prison experience is what I dub these times. While citizen’s freedom has not been stripped entirely like prisoners, there are some similarities I identified that evoke empathy. Like the prisoner, we are confined to a specific space. We have no control over our lives. Like the prisoner, that is up to external factors. The ward dictates the prisoner’s life while the citizen’s life is dictated by society’s actions in hopes of flattening the curve.
Like the prisoner, the citizens have limited resources. Many people have lost their jobs, which will come with more significant consequences in the future. Like the prisoner, rehabilitation has fallen short for society but has saved the institution. When I look at America’s stimulus bill in comparison to other westernized countries, my heart hurts, knowing humanity will always be secondary. Like the prisoner, the citizens are all out of damn toilet paper!
To an extent, this experience has allowed me to understand the trajectory of prison. Of course, the prisoner’s magnitude of problems is to a greater extent. However, the symbolism is the same. The symbolism allows me to understand the impact such trajectory has on the individual. It is crippling in many ways. For the extroverts, I’m sure it is borderline debilitating. I’ve learned how to be an introvert, so it hasn’t been too bad. I have thought about my visions and refined them, so they are ready for the real-world in the future. However, fulfilled visions cannot be without due diligence and process. Action must take place. So, if this lasts too long, I will become angsty.
Viewing myself as a prisoner during this time, I have been able to see the larger purpose of this pandemic. Prisoners, during their isolation, are to think about their actions and if they are useful to society and self. COVID-19 has allowed a time for society to do the same. It is time to slow down and get in touch with their spiritual selves. Engaging the spiritual self is done through proper reflection. The world has stopped so people can reflect on what matters to them. Is it their family? Job? Money? Happiness? More importantly, are people living lives ensuring those matters are attained healthily and with ease, or is there a more viable route?
I have already gone through that phase of my life. Such reflections are daunting. Mostly because the average individual fears themselves and seeking a balanced self-understanding is more complicated than living through experience. Most of society will not utilize the time for such purposes. Partially because most people haven’t been taught skills for self-reflection. Partially because spiritualism and religiosity have meshed to an extent, which is off-putting for many. Partially because some people are thrilled with their lives outside the pandemic. All of which are valid and acceptable reasons to disengage with the spiritual self.
As I came to my final thoughts of self-as-prisoner, I couldn’t help but reflect on the murderous cult leader, Charles Manson. Manson had many thought-provoking quotes during his detention in correctional facilities. One of my personal favorites is “We’re all our own prisons, we are each all our own wardens and we do our own time. I can’t judge anyone else. What other people do is not really my affair unless they approach me with it. Prison’s in your mind. Can’t you see I’m free?”
The quote resonates on so many levels. Our wants and needs dictate our behaviors. Wants and needs are rooted within the biological realm of self, which is heavily intertwined with the mind. The mind mediates between biology and behaviors via rewards and consequences. If rewards are unattained, mediation cannot take place, resulting in a conundrum. The conundrum is Manson’s prison.
Currently our lives are on hold, forcing us into prison and we are doing our time. As warden, we each can choose to continue mediation and reward-seeking through avenues once traveled or construct new ones. However, it is the sole discretion of each individual to reflect. They must finalize which avenues provide the best route on their life journey. Every life has a different route, so I hope people use this time to evaluate their routes and plan accordingly for the future. And use the tragedy of these times to learn compassion so that when the world re-instated, we do not judge others for taking alternative routes. If there is any desire for change, now is the time to reflect and plan. That way, when it’s time for societal reintegration, we can enter the post-pandemic world truly free.
Forever in my thoughts,
The Winkte
Rope Wolf, a butch Two Spirit (Apache/Tohono Od’dham/Irish). Hy is a published short story and erotica writer. An LGBT activist, bdsm teacher. Former corporate wonk, now retired in Santa Fe, NM.
Good news: I retired! In order to retire early, my wife (Osage/Comanche/Irish) and I still needed to move somewhere more affordable other than the San Francisco Bay Area. We looked all over California and what we could afford, was dismal. As we had already planned a vacation to Santa Fe, New Mexico, we thought, why not look there? By California standards? New Mexico is VERY affordable.
My wife, (with my mother-in-law in tow) moved ahead to Santa Fe, NM after securing a job as a therapist. I followed in January of this year after packing up our house. Finally, in the land of my ancestors-more or less. In transition, we stayed in an apartment until we bought our house. We were in an apartment until we bought a house. Suddenly, the pandemic hit.
Were we going to be able to move to our house, would the movers cancel, would essential services shut down, would we be isolated in more than one way, would my wife lose her job and would she and her mother (both immune-compromised) have to rely on me not to get sick for grocery and pharmacy runs? Before our governor told us to lockdown, we ran my mother-in-law quickly, who’s in a wheelchair, to pick some patio furniture for her, which was not an essential trip but one that would provide her some comfort during lockdown.
We just made it into our new home as the governor issued the shelter in home directive which we had already self-imposed. Having come from earthquake country, my wife ad I are used to preparing and channeling our ancestors- rice and beans, masa harina, garlic and coffee. We have enough food and resources in our new area. It’s been 15 days of no outside people contact except for a nod to the neighbors.
Seeping into my consciousness however, is the existential piece to all of this: is the earth finally sick of us humans? Is the earth tired of waiting for our squabbles to end and pay attention to the environment and we cannot hear Her loud, “fuck you and your aluminum can recycling, is that all ya got?” Deep down, I wonder how we can all live like this for long -or will the need for companionship and novelty drive us out of our homes, feeding the virus?
My hometown of San Francisco has been hit very hard by this virus. I got out just in time, and I recognize my privilege. I miss my chosen family of Queers and Two-Spirit, and I have Zoomed, FaceTime and Facebook video chatted with some of them. The conversations are light, cynical and sarcastic like they have always been. When one-on-one, we get a little deeper-not absorbed by our worst fears, but by our fears for humanity. We talk about Trump’s bungling. My mental health professional friends give us doses of reality, while the teachers tell us about the confusion in their communities. We talk about the board games we are playing over Zoom, books we are reading, remodeling projects and in my case, walks on the trails close to my home. Not everyone is sensible though- my Gay relative continues to meet up with Grindr guys because being lonely is too hard. I warn him about exposure, and I hear on his side of the phone “Mmmhmm.” The risk seems worth it to him.
Yesterday, I saw someone on horseback come off the trails behind the housing edition I live in, a fleeting glimpse as they galloped away, but that unmistakable sound of hooves on asphalt. The sound somehow felt to me like a fleeing to the stronghold. On the hill above my house is an RV park, I call it the white encampment, and they slowly come and go all week. The RV’s themselves are quiet and there is no droning of engines or generators like I feared there would be. But white people are white people and I can hear many of their conversations as voices carry and white people are not quiet. There is talk about the meals, the bright blue sky of New Mexico and questions about whether or not they are sick as they stand close together.
Two of my friends back home on a recent Skype session asked if the Two Spirit had any words of wisdom. I don’t. I did not want to hurt their feelings – all I could think was, now you want to hear from us.