Ma-Nee Chacaby: ‘I’m Old, But So What?’, A Two-Spirit Journey

Credit: Ruth Kivilahti

When Ma-Nee Chacaby was four years old, her grandmother sat her down and told her that she was Two-Spirit.

I find this moment in Ma-Nee’s life wildly compelling. The vast majority of queer and trans folks learn about their identities through self-discovery, but for Ma-Nee, it was information that was shared with her by a trusted relative.

Before colonization, indigenous communities across North America included people who identified as both male and female. Today they’re most often known as Two-Spirit, a relatively new term that has many overlaps with words like non-binary and genderqueer.

Ma-Nee grew up in a rural, isolated area in Canada before moving to Thunder Bay, Ontario. It was there that she got sober, discovered her love for women, and eventually came out publicly while being interviewed during a protest. In the ‘90s, there were close to zero other out queer indigenous people in Thunder Bay.

“After I came out, I did have a hard life. People beat the crap out of me because I was Two-Spirit…And the people that beat me would say, ‘You’re ruining our lives because now white people are not going to like us anymore.’”

Ma-Nee is the author of A Two-Spirit Journey: The Autobiography of a Lesbian Ojibwa-Cree Elder. You can listen to our interview here.

This interview has been edited and condensed.

JM: Being queer or trans is often something that one discovers about oneself. It’s self-discovery. And yet, for you, your grandmother told you that you were two-spirit when you were a kid. Why did she say that to you? What told her that?

Ma-Nee: Well, she’d dealt with a lot of two-spirit people in the past. She said two-spirit people existed a long time ago. They just didn’t call it two-spirit, or they just didn’t mention it. It wasn’t advertised or anything, because everybody just lived among each other. Whoever you were attracted to was okay with them.

JM: What was it about you as a kid that indicated or told her that you also were two-spirit?

Ma-Nee: It’s just the way I was. I didn’t like wearing skirts, I would take them off. They were always caught up when I’m doing outside chores and when I’m doing work, when I’m climbing around trees and playing, the skirts were always in the way. And I prefer wearing either just my underwear or wearing pants.

JM: And when she told you this, she also said that that meant you were going to have a harder life. Why did she say that?

Ma-Nee: I don’t know why she said that, but after I came out, I did have a hard life. People beat the crap out of me, because I became too scared.

JM: These were other Indigenous people who beat you?

Ma-Nee: They were, but I came out in public, that’s why. And the people that beat me would say, “You’re ruining our lives that way, because now white people are not going to like us anymore, now that we’re gay,” or whatever…in the Thunder Bay area where I lived, you never saw anybody come out as two-spirits, or they never said, “I’m gay,” or, “I’m lesbian.” They didn’t say that, they just did it. And so I announced it. I wanted people to know who I am, because I didn’t like men chasing me. I didn’t like men coming after me saying, “Hey, good-looking, how about a date?” And I said, “I don’t want to date with you.” “Oh, you’re just playing games,” they would say to me. And the men, the men are awful. I’m sorry, you’re a man I’m talking to, but—

JM: No, no, I’m not offended.

Ma-Nee: Yeah, because I knew who I was. I wanted to be with women, but I never saw men that way.

JM: I’ve heard a few different definitions of what it means to be two-spirit. Can you explain how you define it, and what it means to you?

Ma-Nee: It means to me just who I am. I like women, I’m attracted to women, and I think being two-spirit you’re more freer, you’re not forced to marry anybody when you’re two-spirit. But I was forced to marry this man that I married before I came out. After my grandmother died, my stepdad kept bugging me, and I thought, well, to shut him up I might as well try it, see if I am really gay or not. So when I married him, when I married that guy, I knew I didn’t have any attraction to him.

JM: You were like 15 or 16 at the time?

Ma-Nee: Yeah, I married him and got two kids. After that, I ran away, couldn’t deal with it. He was very abusive, beat the crap out of me every day…I didn’t have no more family. When my mom died, when my grandmother died, then my mom died, you know, just a lot of things happened where I didn’t have no support after.

JM: I’m so sorry.

Ma-Nee: So my grandmother was right, that it was going to be hard work for me. She wanted me to know the truth, who my people were, because she didn’t want me to be alone. That’s what she told me too. She said, before she died, I asked her, “Kokum, what is two-spirit?” And she said, “Niizh manidoowag is the people that you will be with, that’s the kind of person you are. And you should try to look for those kind of people for your own support when you get old,” she said.

JM: It sounded like, reading your book, that the discovery that you desire women, it didn’t happen until your mid-20s. Is that right?

Ma-Nee: Yeah, I didn’t, ’till I sobered up. 1988 is when I started to…well, actually 1985 is when I really started to look at my sexuality. Because I saw people like that, they were walking, holding hands, two men. And this is in Winnipeg. I saw two men holding hands. Some of them were kissing behind somewhere, and I thought, “Oh, that’s interesting.” And then I saw two women kissing, and I thought, “Hey.” I went to an AA meeting, and there was an AA meeting, it was run by two-spirit people, by gay people.

So I went to that meeting, I wanted to check it out, to make sure what I’m going through is probably where I belong. I just went and checked it out once, I saw the two men kissing and then the two women holding hands and they’re walking. So I figured, “Uh-huh, okay, I’m gonna check that out.” I went to the meeting where a gay man was conducting an AA meeting. There was a lot of gay AA people there, women and men. And women were all holding hands, and men were showing a lot of affection with each other. And I thought, “Oh, this is where I belong.” And then I went home, and then I didn’t say anything. Then I took off, and I came back to Thunder Bay. And then I started to think about it in 1987. Then I came out in 1988.

JM: As you got into activism and became more of a public person, Indigenous people specifically were very upset at you being so open. Why was that?

Ma-Nee: Well, they said that I’m adding one more thing for people to be prejudiced against us.

JM: Oh, so you were making it harder for everybody.

Ma-Nee: I guess they were asking me to be responsible for everybody. I don’t know, they just made me feel awful, that’s all.

JM: Did your family and your kids, did they also agree with that sentiment?

Ma-Nee: My kids love me for who I was. They knew I was gay. My other family, like my cousins and that, well, they were kind of angry at me, but then they understood why I was so different, why I always wear men’s clothes, why I do bush work. I do really heavy work, sometimes when I was growing up in Ombabika, I did hunting, I’m a good hunter. I killed my first moose when I was 11 or 12, I can’t remember.

And I’m proud to say that, because not too many people like me would talk like that. If I got lost or got thrown away somewhere, I would survive.

JM: You grew up in an incredibly rural and isolated area. You learned how to catch animals, to tan and dye moose hide, how to use that for clothing, for door coverings.

Ma-Nee: Using those as mitts and hats and shoes. Moccasins, they call them.

JM: Unfortunately, we hear a lot about Indigenous kids who are taken away from their homes. When you were 12, your brother and cousin were taken to a residential school. Why did they not take you? Why were you able to stay?

Ma-Nee: Well, I was in the bush hunting, and then I just got home in time after they took all the kids.

JM: And when you say all the kids, they took the majority of them, right?

Ma-Nee: Yeah, four and up. That’s a lot of kids they took out of the community. There was only five kids around my age that were left, including me.

Most of them were taken. My brother went to McIntosh, which is not too far from Thunder Bay area. And then some of them were right in Thunder Bay, and some of them went to Sault Ste. Marie. They sent them all over, wherever residential schools were.

JM: What was the community where you grew up like after they took so many kids?

Ma-Nee: They didn’t like, well, they didn’t like me, or the guys that didn’t get to go. They didn’t like those people, because they were angry at us. The parents were angry at us that we didn’t go, because their kids went. Jealous.

JM: It sounds like, I mean, luck and good fortune to be able to stay if not been taken, but you also experienced a tremendous amount of abuse and hardship there.

Ma-Nee: Yeah, I did.

JM: The physical and sexual abuse you experienced, you write that it happened to many, many others, but it was something that was never ever talked about. When did that start to change? When did you start to speak more openly about it?

Ma-Nee: Oh, when I was about…say, about 10 years ago, maybe 15 years ago.

JM: You were in your 50s or 60s?

Ma-Nee: Well, yeah, no, I was about, maybe younger. In 1994 I went to my first counseling, first time I mentioned my abuse. That was 1994, yeah, that’s when I quit smoking. I saw a counselor, and she started to work with me about my life. After all, she told me, “Well, do you know any other people like you, other gay members?” And I said, “No.” “I’ll try and set up something where you can meet some people,” she said. So she did have a coffee afternoon one time, so we can meet each other.

JM: That’s really generous.

Ma-Nee: She was a very nice counselor. It’s hard, because Thunder Bay that time was not like the way it is now, but it was a little bit different. Everybody’s always hiding from somebody or something.

JM: When you talk about being two-spirit, it’s about wearing pants, kind of acting like a boy, but also being a lesbian. Does two-spirit for you encompass gender and sexuality, or is it separate?

Ma-Nee: I don’t know where to separate it. I just feel like there’s two of me in my body. There’s a male and a female. And I’m interested in females, I’m not interested in males, though.

That’s how I feel. And my grandmother told me that when I was four years old, but I didn’t understand it then.

JM: When did you begin to understand it?

Ma-Nee: There was an event where my social worker was telling me about these people, that she was going to organize something to happen, for a coffee event, so other people could meet each other, because there wasn’t that many of us. So I went, and then I met other people. The boys told me they liked the men, and the women told me they liked the women. One of them was saying, “If you want to go out on a date, I’m available,” she said.

JM: Did you take her up on that?

Ma-Nee: No, I didn’t pick it up. I didn’t. I was scared of her.

JM: Why were you scared?

Ma-Nee: Well, because the way she talked and the way she acted scared me. Big, tough woman, and that scares me, because of what happened when I was married to this man. I didn’t want to go through with people like that.

JM: Oh, it felt too similar.

Ma-Nee: Yeah, it was the way they act. They act tough and big and powerful, and so therefore I felt like, “Oh, she’s probably like the other men,” you know.

It kind of scared me a little. And so I didn’t offer myself to anybody. I was just happy to be around people like me, that was the most important. I wasn’t ready to be in a relationship because I wanted to raise my kids till they got older and they can defend themselves.

JM: You did have relationships. How about now? Are you dating? Are you interested in dating?

Ma-Nee: I’m interested, but I haven’t found somebody I’m interested in. I haven’t been dating for a long time now.

JM: Is the challenge meeting other women?

Ma-Nee: It’s a challenge, because in Thunder Bay you don’t know who is lesbian. Nobody comes out…there’s not much events happening in Thunder Bay, especially after COVID, it ruined a lot of stuff.

JM: I guess there’s not a clear meetup location for people your age also in their 70s.

Ma-Nee: Yeah, there’s no place to go to meet them. So I just stay home, I don’t go nowhere, unless I go to Toronto, then I meet people in Toronto.

JM: I know your eyesight has been slowly worsening. How is it today?

Ma-Nee: It’s not very good today. I have these blind spots every now and then, moving into my eyes. I was like this for a long time. Now I go to CNIB [Canadian National Institute for the Blind] to learn things and to be around people that are like me, that are blind a little bit, and we learn to support each other, come together.

JM: Are you able to live alone?

Ma-Nee: Oh, of course. I’ve been living alone for a long time now, since 2004.

JM: You always seem to be taking people in to live with you, extended family, foster kids, whenever people needed a place to live. I didn’t know if you were now being helped by other people.

Ma-Nee: I don’t do that anymore. I’m a retired person now. I’m trying to be retired, but I do go out. I work with a lot of young people. They’re attracted to me because of who I am, and because I’m two-spirit, and they’re more comfortable with me than they are with other elders.

I’m an elder, so the young people know who I am. They know I’m a two-spirit elder. And so they come and talk to me, and they’re friends with me, and they come and help me at my house. And they’re really thankful people. Even couples, like young couples, lesbian couples, they want to hang out with me. They like hanging out with me.

JM: That’s so nice.

Ma-Nee: Yeah, because I’m old, but they don’t see me as an old person. They don’t see me that way, because I don’t act that way. I’m old, but so what? I can still be who I am. But some old people tend to act really old when they’re elders.

JM: But not you.

Ma-Nee: Nah, age doesn’t bother me. I’m very active in my own way for all of my life. So I don’t let age get to me.

JM: What scares you the most about aging?

Ma-Nee: Well, maybe if I get sick, I might not be able to help anybody. That’s the thing that scares me.

JM: It’s still about other people, not about you.

Ma-Nee: Well, me, I don’t have any fears about me. I just fear that what if I get Alzheimer’s and then I’ll get sick. You know, those are my little worries. But I’m worried more about the other people, in a way that they might not be comfortable with me once I’m sick. But they don’t do that. They showed me because I was sick and they all wanted to come and help. Sometimes young people come up to my house or call me up and say, “We’re going to pick you up, we’re going to go for a drive.” So we go for a drive. They know I’m visually impaired, and they know that I might need to go for a drive once in a while.

And when I’m teaching them, I always teach them about love: put love in front of your body, in front of you, when you get up in the morning, and it’ll guide you to a beautiful place. That’s what I always tell them, it’ll guide you.

And I’ll give you the same advice. Put love in front of you when you go out of your doorway to go somewhere.

---

Click here to listen to the full interview on the LGBTQ&A podcast.

LGBTQ&A features interviews with the most interesting lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and queer people in the world. Hosted and produced by Jeffrey Masters. ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠@jeffmasters1⁠⁠⁠

---

---