I’m A Two-Spirit Métis Leader. Here’s How I’m Celebrating My Identity This June

It’s not lost on me that it’s when the world around us wakes up from its cold slumber and truly comes to life that we celebrate Pride Month and National Indigenous History Month. June is a special month for members of 2SLGBTQIA+ and Indigenous communities. It gives us a moment to loudly and proudly affirm our identities, recount our histories and celebrate our hard-won progress. It’s an opportunity for us to be seen and, hopefully, understood and accepted.

I’m a Two-Spirit Métis leader navigating her sixth decade of life, so I recognize the importance of Two-Spirit and LGBTQIA+ visibility and representation—of feeling seen and known—within both Indigenous and non-Indigenous communities. I also recognize that not everyone may know what I mean when I say I'm Two-Spirit.

Many Canadians have a baseline understanding of what it means to be queer, gay, lesbian or trans, but Indigenous people who identify as Two-Spirit often elicit as much confusion as they do curiosity. The "2S" in 2SLGBTQIA+ remains poorly understood and is often overlooked. For Canadians looking to honour both Pride and National Indigenous History Month, learning more about Métis, First Nations and Inuit peoples’ understandings of gender diversity and sexuality is a good place to start.

“Two-Spirit” can have a myriad of meanings used in different contexts within Indigenous communities—it’s an umbrella term. Sometimes, it functions as the preferred English word used in lieu of other identifiers from Indigenous languages. In other cases, it can refer to the specific cultural and community roles that Two-Spirit people play as individuals who are understood to embody both male and female energies. The reasons why an Indigenous person chooses to identify or not as Two-Spirit can be highly personal.

Marginalized communities have actively been bringing new, inclusive language to the many tables we sit at. “Two-Spirit'' is a relatively modern term, coined by a member of the Fisher River Cree Nation, Dr. Myra Laramee, during the Intertribal Native American, First Nations, Gay and Lesbian American Conference in the 1990s. This was so that Indigenous members of the Two-Spirit and LGBTQIA+ community could identify their cultures’ unique experiences and understandings through an inclusive term that resonated with Indigenous experiences and traditions, and I’m so grateful that these conversations happened in my lifetime.

While many conflate being Two-Spirit with being queer, the term “Two-Spirit'' is not synonymous with other LGBTQIA+ identifiers; it's a modern, pan-Indigenous term that specifically acknowledges the spiritual and cultural acceptance of gender and sexually diverse Indigenous peoples across many nations prior to colonization. That said, Two-Spirit people can also identify with other distinctions, sexualities and gender identities.

I remember the moment I first encountered the term in the early to mid ’90s, and how much it resonated with me. From a young age, I knew that I carried both masculinity and femininity within me, and yet I was not bound by either. Growing up in a Catholic household in rural Saskatchewan, the rigid, binary approach to gender and sexuality was stifling and confusing. I resisted it at every turn. When my kindergarten teacher divided the girls and boys into pink and blue rooms, I chose the boys’ room to play with their toys. Years later, when I had the opportunity to join Brownies, I flatly refused. I didn't want to have to wear a skirt (and I still won’t).

Though I don’t identify as a man, I’ve continued choosing to feel comfortable in how I’ve expressed myself throughout my life—I still wear men’s shoes and, occasionally, men’s clothing. When I lost my hair during cancer treatment, people began calling me “sir,” which didn't bother me at all. I liked it. The truth is that I walk in both worlds, in both genders. Sometimes in my dreams, I am a male; sometimes, female. Embracing my inherent Two-Spirit identity comes with ease because it's who I am, rather than a label imposed upon me.

Growing up, I never saw people like me—both Two-Spirit and Métis—represented in media or public life. I recall being in my late teens and reading an essay written by a lesbian. I read it over and over again, hanging onto every word because, finally, I found someone similar to me. That moment taught me the value of visibility and representation. Seeing parts of myself reflected back to me is profoundly affirming and validating. The alternative is alienating and isolating.

One way Canadians can support Indigenous peoples this Indigenous history and Pride Month is by prioritizing Indigenous representation and truly listening to Two-Spirit voices. In truth, that's where Reconciliation starts: listening to our stories and understanding our ways of being. When we collectively open ourselves to learning the experiences of historically oppressed groups, we break down barriers, discover new ways of thinking and strengthen our communities.

Margaret Froh is the president of the Métis Nation of Ontario.