by Zaryah Qareeb
Content warning: Mental illness, Harm against Indigenous communities, Insane Asylum
Fall semester of last year, I discovered Zen Buddhist Priest and Japanese-descent writer Ruth Ozeki through a literature class. I had the privilege of attending Ozeki’s reading of The Book of Form and Emptiness, a story that explores themes of mental illness and relationships with inanimate objects.
During Ozeki’s reading, she mentioned her ability to hear the voices of characters in her head. Many reacted with concerned looks of, how exactly are you hearing them? Ozeki explained more about being able to hear her late father and shared that many of her friends who are also artists share this ability. Ozeki ended the conversation with the question: When do we, as a collective, begin to celebrate these abilities?
This question led me to consider the Canton Indian Insane Asylum, also known as the Hiawatha Insane Asylum, in South Dakota. The institution began admitting patients in January 1903 however, a significant portion of the people admitted did not suffer from mental illnesses. In fact, the asylum’s Native American patients were often institutionalized for intoxication, political resistance to American government interests, or for misunderstood cultural and spiritual practices. As a result of the asylum’s systematic targeting of Native populations, there was a significant loss of life that marked a troubling chapter in American history. In 1934, the facility was finally closed.
My goal in writing this article is to shed light on the ways colonialism reinforces hierarchies that dehumanize indigenous spiritualities that embrace ancestral connection. By reflecting on historical contexts in contrast with representations of cultures in media, this article asks, when can we embrace spiritual connection with our own ancestors, and respect cultural practices we might be unfamiliar with?
The iconic comedy-drama series Reservation Dogs, directed by Sterlin Harjo and Taika Waititi, follows the lives of four indigenous coming-of-age youth in rural Oklahoma. I was drawn to this show because it positions the protagonist Bear’s ability to communicate with spirits as an essential part of his culture and journey. Bear openly shares his spiritual experiences with his friends and family by discussing his interactions with spiritual guides such as “William Knifeman” and “Deer Lady.” Remarkably, Bear’s spiritual gifts are met with understanding rather than skepticism by his community. In partnership with positive representation for indigenous cultures, the show also explores subjects like racialized ableism.
Disability is traditionally understood through a white, wealthy, and otherwise privileged lens, which makes it challenging to comprehend how disability manifests in marginalized communities (Lewis, 2019). Racialized ableism examines the intersection of racism and ableism, revealing unique challenges and forms of discrimination. In some indigenous communities, disability may have historically been accepted as a characteristic (Lovern, 2008). However, in the context of settler colonialism, disability becomes one of many factors hindering indigenous self-determination.
The United Nations General Assembly defines disability as “an evolving concept resulting from the interaction between persons with impairments and attitudinal and environmental barriers.” Many disability scholars align with these relational models of disability, viewing it as a social experience shaped by society’s culture rather than residing solely within the individual (Goodley, 2016; Oliver, 2017). Similar to racialized ableism, disability is exacerbated by forms of marginalization such as class status and sexism.
Instead of asking “What causes disability?” we should inquire, “How is disability generated?” This shifts perspective to reveal that disability is predominantly constructed and criminalized. To engender disability, the United States has demanded specific prerequisites to then systematically hinder individuals from accessing needs like literacy, capital, family, shelter, health, and more (Lewis, 2019).
Racialized ableism is nuanced. There is a history of pre-colonial spirituality, religions, and practices now criminalized by Eurocentric ideology through medicalized diagnoses of “disability.” It is important to acknowledge that there are also indigenous people who do experience disabilities and their stories are often overlooked. Therefore, the act of labeling holds significant power, as can provide validation to many individuals. Historical events like the Hiawatha Insane Asylum perpetuated harmful stigma and served as a weapon for colonialism. Although the asylum has been closed for many years, the aftermath of colonialism and racialized ableism lingers in various aspects of life today, including mental health care. However, there is a political movement that seeks to decolonize healthcare which is also reflected in the arts.
This is where Reservation Dogs comes back in. In Season 3, Episode 7, titled “Wahoo,” a character named Rita, similar to Bear, receives a visit from a spiritual guide named Cookie whose presence becomes both confrontational and joyful. As they reminisce about their pasts, Rita finds healing and guidance from Cookie for her next life decision. However, Rita is met with concern from the outside world due to her public conversations with Cookie. As a result, Rita seeks out a professional therapist but is faced with dismissive responses from the therapist and general statements of “Native trauma.” Despite being a healthcare professional who specializes in Native patients, the therapist conforms to traditional approaches that reinforce Western, Eurocentric frameworks. Throughout the show, characters like Rita and Bear demystify indigenous spiritual practices and actively create inclusive environments for others grappling with concepts of mental health.
I sometimes worry that my ancestors are trying to communicate with me, but I simply can’t hear or understand them. I wonder where I get my stubbornness from, or whom I inherited my broad shoulders from. My point is, there’s a long line of people who make up my whole being, and talking to them comforts me. A part of me grieves that I will never know these names. I also grieve that I can’t publicly display my love and connection to them or I will be met with side eyes. This returns to my main point: colonialism has and continues to prevent people like myself from publicly engaging in spiritual and cultural practices and makes us feel shame. However, through exposure to BIPOC media with characters like Bear and Rita, or interviews with creatives like Ruth Ozeki, people like me can feel seen. Knowing that there are others who celebrate their ancestral and spiritual connections reinforces how important it is for me to talk with those who came before me.
Citations
Oliver, M. (2017). Defining impairment and disability: Issues at stake. In Disability and equality law. New York, NY: Routledge.
Lovern, L. (2008). Native American worldview and the discourse on disability. Essays in Philosophy.
Lewis, T. A. (2019). Longmore Lecture: Context, clarity & grounding. TALILA A. LEWIS. https://www.talilalewis.com/blog/longmore-lecture-context-clarity-grounding
United Nations General Assembly. (2007). United Nations Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities (UNCRPD). Retrieved from https://www.un.org/development/desa/disabilities/convention-on-the-rights-of-persons-with-disabilities/convention-on-the-rights-of-persons-with-disabilities-2.htmlUnited Nations Inter-Agency Support Group.