My name is Shane Moses. I identify as Two Spirit—I really love to embrace both my masculine and feminine side. I am from the Muckleshoot Indian Tribe, and I am about to be 20 years old.
At the University of Washington Powwow earlier this year, you offered a Two Spirit Special and also took the mic and talked about drugs and alcohol and addiction in front of a large crowd. What inspired you to take the mic and share what you did?
About a week or two before the UW event, I had a really huge loss. I lost someone who was a big part of my life and growth, someone who helped me learn to love myself regardless of who I am. And I was asked to be the head man dancer and to come up with a special and a lot of people were asking what I was going to do for the special, and in the past, I have done a switch dance, a funny way of switching men’s and women’s regalia. But I called the special at the UW Powwow a Two Spirit special because that switching of regalia no longer felt funny to me. It no longer felt like a joke. It became ceremony, a way of being able to embrace both of our sides—masculine and feminine. When I was younger, my sister walked in on me with her regalia on, just dancing around in the bedroom with the shawl. It was not normal for a boy to be dancing with a girl’s shawl, we were supposed to be manly and be dancing with our feathers and our bustles. I was thinking before the UW Powwow about how good it can be for men to express ourselves, our emotional side. I’m tired of men being seen as weak or not worthy to claim their masculinity if they’re crying. I’m active in the Wellbriety movement, and one of the things we learn on the red road is that it’s okay for a man to cry. A man who can cry is a strong man. The powwow gave me an opportunity to share with the crowd that it’s okay to embrace that emotional side, to dance the way you want to dance, even in front of thousands of people. It was the first time I had danced with that regalia in front of such a large audience, and I had no shame putting on the women’s jingle dress. I was smiling the whole time.
We were so happy to see so much support from the crowd for the Two Spirit special and for Two Spirit and Indigiqueer folks at the powwow. What did it mean to you to see that support from other Two Spirit people and also from elders and other folks in the community?
At first I was a little worried! Our elders can be strict. I still know a lot of elders who say men and women are supposed to be together so they can continue to build our community, who say gay people have to go through surrogacy or adopt, and it’s weakening our community. So I was scared at first. I was the first one on the floor. It just was me for a little while, and then it was two other people, and I was like, Dang this is it? And then more and more and more dancers came. Slowly I realized, Okay, it’s gonna happen. Soon enough, we had a floor full of dancers who were Two Spirit, switched in different regalia, or who weren’t Two Spirit but were representing out there with us, who had no shame putting on another regalia. It wasn’t for fun and laughs. We were serious. We were honoring people. And so for allies to be out there, dancing alongside us, was very heartfelt. The blanket special followed after. We carried around the blanket and people from the crowd were to come down and add money, which we gave to the drummers, the people who put everything together. We were halfway around, by the stage, and no one had contributed anything, so I was a bit worried, but as we reached the middle side, we got swarmed. People from the crowd, elders, little kids, men and their families—everyone started coming down and putting money in. We collected Canadian money, the US dollar. By the end of it, we’d raised over $1,200. It was the medicine I needed, especially with what I was going through. It was just so nice to feel supported by such a large crowd. I didn’t feel that support growing up. My dad was very military, and he was lost in addiction. A lot of what it took for me to come out and identify as who I am, to have a boyfriend as I do now, was losing my father. That’s really sad and heartbreaking. Growing up, I would hear things like, You’re queer, you’re a faggot, especially from my father. That hurt a lot. Because I was young, I didn’t know the difference between what boys and girls can do. I had no problem playing with dolls or dressing up with my sisters, embracing that side of me. A lot of families worry like, Oh, is my daughter this way because something happened to her in the past, or is this just something they want to be, and I think that shouldn’t have to matter. Whatever the reason, you should accept who they are, and move forward and continue to build that relationship. I wasn’t able to build that relationship with my dad.
What do you go to in moments of struggle? What things offer you hope and solace?
What’s been most important for me is finding healthy ways to deal with loss, or with not feeling accepted or being wanted. Some people, when they experience loss or aren’t accepted or appreciated, they turn to alcohol and drugs. It’s something I saw all around me, in my parents, and that I also wanted to do. As a young kid, when I was 16 or 17, when COVID was happening, I was not feeling accepted. I was mourning loss of my father. And for a short time I experimented with alcohol and marijuana to numb myself. It gave me a period of time when I didn’t worry about people judging who I am or about grief. Until the next day, and then I’m sober and it’s ten times worse than it was the day before. I learned really quick that hiding myself with marijuana or alcohol was not the way to go about it, so I reached out to our behavioral health center and started seeing a counselor for drug and alcohol use and started learning what I needed to learn. I connected with AA meetings and built a strong support system and a good network that continues to support me. I learned not to surround myself with people who use regularly or who talk badly about gay people. In a way it was sad, I lost a lot of friends I’d known from a young age. But I just had to be like, This is who I am. I am Two Spirit, I am LGBTQ+, and if you’ve got a problem with it, then I will not associate with you.
Since then I’ve realized that the universe works in full effect, and it’s worked to bring me toward my people. I went to an LGBTQ+ AA meeting, and I met a lot of good people there from all over the United States. They were giving me connections, telling me about different events that are happening, what to get myself involved. One of them from Seattle still acts as a mentor to me. The universe, like I said, works in full effect, especially as I learn to accept myself, become the best version of myself, and make my ancestors proud—they may not be proud that I’m LGBTQ+ but they have to be proud that I’m stopping generational curses and figuring myself out. I heard people at the meetings say, The only time I’m able to become who I really am is when I drink or use drugs. Then I have no problem making out with the same sex. That was really sad, hearing those stories. I do a lot of praying for them, that they’re able to find themselves without the drug use. I really hope that they’re able to discover who they are, that the meetings are a stepping stone for them as they have been for me.
Any closing message that you’d like to offer young Two Spirit and Indigiqueer folks who might not be feeling accepted by their communities or their immediate families?
Picture yourself climbing a cliff or a mountain. You’ve climbed up some good steps and then someone throws a rock at you, and you fall down the mountain. You’re looking up from the bottom like Dang, how am I supposed to get back up? Well, you know those ledges, you know those rocks you’ve stepped on. Step on them again. Or something I heard in one of my groups is about the tatanka, the bison. When a storm is coming cattle run away from the storm, but bison stand in the storm or even run toward the storm, because they know the storm gives good benefits. Be a bison.
