by Isa Ansari
At this point, it is clear that COVID-19 is changing our world forever. Headlines from almost every major media outlet tell us how the future of travel, education, fine dining, work spaces and more will look entirely different. Images of glass dining pods and social distance playground games overwhelm our imaginaries of how things could soon be. However, at the edge of this precipice, we must be careful of what kind of world we collectively envision and work towards. How can we avoid reproducing and reinscribing the same harmful systems and relations that rendered our world particularly vulnerable to a pandemic of this nature, and to the disproportionate effects it is having? As Naomi Klein has shown us, “in times of crisis, seemingly impossible ideas become possible” (Klein, Democracy Now, March 19 2020).
How can we go beyond focusing on glass dining pods and social distancing methods for cubicles, towards more capacious conversations about the nature of our global situation and how we got here? Is it possible to imagine and fight for a world where relations of care are central, and all lives are equally valued? Can this world exist in the context of the persistent colonial power relations, racialized hierarchies, and massive wealth inequality that characterize our current situation? Thinking about the so-called United States specifically, my work centers the importance of decolonization, as action not metaphor, as it is grounded in mutual aid organizing and long term visions of BIPOC (Black/Indigenous/ People of Color) organizers (Tuck & Yang, 2012). I believe that an equitable, liveable world is not possible within the context of a settler colonial nation state where racist vigilantes are able to murder black men for running, and Mashpee Wampanoag reservation land is able to be revoked in the midst of a pandemic. We must decolonize. Because of this, I am choosing to center the work of individuals who are doing community centered, frontline organizing with a goal of “healing the land and healing ourselves” (Mesiah, personal communication, May 4 2020)
This week, I am focusing on the work of Mesiah, 24, and Little Wind, 23, two Indigenous youths who are engaged in a vital project of providing COVID-19 crisis relief to hundreds of families on Wind River Reservation in Wyoming, all the while keeping their eyes strongly fixed on the horizon. As Mesiah noted in our conversation, COVID-19 felt like a door opening into a space where they could “implement some of their greatest ideas” to liberate their community from structures that were never built to support them (Mesiah, personal communication May 3 2020). Their work is connected to the broader legacy of mutual aid in BIPOC lifeways prior to capitalism and colonialism, and in struggles for life and liberation under the eventual racialized, colonial, capitalist world order. As Regan De Loggans writes in a zine titled “Let’s Talk Mutual Aid” this legacy is one of “Indigenous lifeways and sovereignty, Black thrivance and power” (De Loggans, 2020). Mutual aid is a long term commitment to the safety and viability of the community beyond the crisis of COVID-19 and into the crisis of capitalism in the everyday.
Born and raised between the Bay Area and New York, Mesiah identifies as Afro-Indigenous and Two-Spirit. Little Wind is Northern Arapaho and was born and raised by their mother and grandmothers on the Wind River Reservation in Wyoming. After meeting at Standing Rock in 2016, they began organizing together and are now partners, leading this essential work while deeply rooted in love. The following is based on a lengthy conversation I had with them over zoom earlier this month, where we talked about their work right now and how it will extend into the visions of future sovereignty and sustainability they have for themselves and their community.
Little Wind and Mesiah began organizing in early March when they realized that many of the people on the reservation would not have the ability to shelter in place if asked to do so because of high levels of scarcity. In Little Wind’s words, they wanted to “show up big” for the grandmothers and grandbabies who were in imminent need (Little Wind, personal communication, May 3 2020). Aware that the situation at Wind River was unique, and that there was no information specifically curated for their community to understand their predicament, they took matters into their own hands and began developing a survey to assess the situation.
Beginning around March 22nd, they began distributing a survey which included questions about pre-existing health conditions, how much food and potable water was already in the home, what was needed and in what quantity, etc. The data they collected showed that almost 70% percent of households who filled out the survey have someone with a pre-existing health condition that renders them more vulnerable to contracting the virus. Little Wind emphasized that “these diseases were introduced to us,: and that their great great grandparents had not known conditions like kidney disease or cancer to such a degree (Little Wind, personal communication, May 3 2020). Their survey also included forward facing questions such as whether they have access to running water and land to plant food, or whether they would use seeds if provided. Their survey was intentionally modeled this way to collect data that had the longer term in mind. They immediately received a flood of responses and in the following weeks provided essential resources to 300 households, doing all of the shopping, sanitizing, sorting, and delivering. They fed around 2,600 people in total with stores to last a month.
Their plans to continue their work beyond this imminent crisis and towards tackling “the challenges that keep our people dependent on the system” include developing educational centers for youths on Wind River Reservation to learn about the extraction that is going on on their land, the conditions that have rendered them vulnerable to poverty and disease, and what they might be able to do about it. These spaces are not just to foster radical education, but also sustainable forms of support. They want to encourage a more radical vision of solidarity, one that does not assume that Indigenous communities can not and do not organize for themselves, but that asks academics and organizers to orient their work toward justice as articulated by Indigenous communities themselves, not the agenda of the academy or the left wing. They want to open a water center, and continue to fight against extraction that poisons the soil, so that they might be able to provide seeds to those wishing to grow food, and be free to care for the land and each other again. Linked below is their fundraiser, where I encourage anyone who can to donate and contribute to their efforts, both right now and in the long term.
https://fundly.com/regenerationonthereservation
Works Cited
De Loggans, Regan. “Let’s Talk Mutual Aid” Online Zine. Accessed May 2020. https://dochub.com/rloggans/jo3xELpR3ZO8yz8wJBa7nr/loggans-mutual-aid-zine-pdf?dt=Ls_myQXhz6RrrzS59DVW
Tuck, Eve. Yang, Wayne K. “Decolonization is not a metaphor” Decolonization: Indigeneity, Education, & Society. vol. 15, no. 1, 1996.