Anthony Khangi Thanka knows far too many dead people, especially for someone who just turned 21.
As a member of the Sicangu Lakota, Oglala Lakota, and Northern Cheyenne Nations, Thanka tells Them that growing up as a Two-Spirit person on the Pine Ridge Reservation came with a set of challenges.
Prior to colonization, Two-Spirit people — a term used to describe genders outside of the Western binary across Turtle Island and beyond — were cherished within their communities and held sacred ceremonial, spiritual, and healer roles. But centuries of forced assimilation and violence by the federal government erased much of this history, leaving Two-Spirit people vulnerable within their own communities.
The crisis is particularly dire on the Pine Ridge Reservation, which consistently ranks as one of the poorest counties in the United States. Facing heightened rates of familial rejection, houselessness, substance abuse, and suicide, Two-Spirit youth are often left to fend for themselves. Thanka says they can’t count the amount of people they have lost on one hand.
“It's so shocking how that’s just so normalized in our communities,” Thanka tells me over Zoom.
For Thanka, diving into their culture through regalia making and powwow dancing saved their life. “Being Two-spirit, I came into my activism when I stepped into my culture,” Thanka says. “I really took my culture on when I needed it.” Their goal, they say, is to make sure every Two-Spirit youth makes it through and thrives in their culture.
Their love of their culture coupled with this dire need for Two-Spirit community, acceptance, and joy is the motivating impulse behind their work. Alongside organizers like Candi Brings Plenty of the nonprofit organization The Two-Spirit Nation and Autumn White Eyes of the First People’s Fund, Thanka has helped bring the first-ever coming of age Two-Spirit Camp to the Pine Ridge Reservation. From storytelling to coming of age ceremonies, the camp equips Two-Spirit youth with their cultural traditions and makes it clear that they are cherished.
Below, Them spoke to Khangi Thanka about their activism, the joy of regalia making, and creating spaces of Two-Spirit power on and off the Pine Ridge Reservation.
What is your background and how did you arrive at the term Two-Spirit?
I was born and raised on the Pine Ridge Reservation. I spent my entire life around my people and my culture, and I dealt with the experiences that come along with reservation life. It really shaped and formed who I was. I was in a really dark time when I was a teenager. I suffered from the things that teenagers on the reservation suffer from: alcoholism, substance abuse, depression.
The Pine Ridge and Rosebud Reservations are statistically two of the poorest places in America, county-wise. So, growing up, it was really normalized seeing people around me die. Death was a very normalized thing in my community, and it still is today. I cannot tell you how many classmates I’ve lost. Only being 21 and just coming out of high school a couple years ago, and having people who are just starting their lives — these people that you grew up with and you’re starting their lives with — they’re not there anymore. That was a big motivation for my work.
Tell me about the Two-Spirit Camp. What is the goal?
The idea for this camp was to take a traditional young men’s and young women's camp, but make it a Two-Spirit young person’s camp at the new Oglala Lakota Art Space. So give them all of the things they would need to go on their journey that they need, culture-wise. We taught them how to make ribbon shirts, we taught them how to make ribbon skirts, and it was a three-day camp.
We took 10 Two-Spirit youth from the reservation. We gave them all of the supplies. We gave them money for coming to the camp. We taught them that they have a place in Lakota culture. Traditionally, in Oceti Sakowin — or as the colonizer word, Sioux — culture, Two-Spirit people are held within high regard. They're considered to be closest to creator because they’re able to see both aspects from a man and a woman, and they’re healers in our community. It’s very sacred to get your Lakota name from a Two-Spirit person.
Were there any challenges when you were trying to establish the camp?
I took one of the fliers to this place on one of the border towns of the reservation, and it was advertised as this Lakota art space, but when I came and I asked them to hang a flyer, they said, “We are Lakota Christian establishment, we do not recognize Two-Spirit people.” It's just the shocking thing within our communities. Our tribe says they’re working towards inclusivity. The Oglala Sioux tribe was the first tribe in South Dakota to legalize same-sex marriage. We’re the first tribe to have a Two-Spirit Vice President. It seems like it’s giving us quick progress. But we’re still dealing with discrimination and hate within our own communities.
Something you’ve mentioned before is how critical cultural practices were to your own healing as a Two-Spirit person. When did you first start making regalia and how did it become a medium for healing?
When I really deep dove into my culture, back in 2019-2020, that’s when I started making earrings. I started off making dentalium earrings, and then I got into beadwork. I grew up around going to powwows. They have powwows here at all of the schools on the reservation throughout the year. So I grew up playing hand games and dancing, but it wasn't until 2019-2020, after we had the Two-Spirit camp, that I learned how to make ribbon skirts. I started to sell them and that’s when my regalia business really launched off and I just fell in love with my culture and every aspect of it. I love making regalia. It’s my passion at the moment. I love sharing that with my community.
I feel regalia making is a very powerful medium in the sense that it distracts you from the outside world and it gives you that safe space to think over your traumas and what you need to process. In critical times of me needing someone to listen to me, the way that I was able to sit down and focus on a project for six hours and just think through what I was going through was very helpful. Growing up on a reservation in the north where you’re isolated from other cities and your nearest Walmart is an hour and a half away, you don't have anything. That’s what I feel is the downfall within my community. Our youth don’t have anything. I didn’t grow up being able to do any extracurricular activities, because it’s just things we didn’t have here.
I’m just very much on this journey of becoming a better me, and that better me I see is this Lakota auntie who knows her culture, her language, and her traditional knowledge, and she’s able to share that with her community. I’m taking the steps to learn about my traditional plants and their uses, and continuing my journey on the language. I’m trying to find any opportunity that I can to share this information with everybody else because I feel like in my journey, it was really hard for me to get this information.
There’s still some imposter syndrome that you don’t feel like you’re worthy enough of having this information, and so I would like to prevent that from being passed on to the next generation, I would like to make it easier for them to access this stuff.
What other plans do you have for the camp in years to come?
Next year, we are planning to continue the Two-Spirit camp with ceremonies. A big part of what we want is to get the Two-Spirit youth all of the ceremonies that they need to go into adulthood, like the Lakota name ceremony. These are coming-of-age ceremonies that need to be done. Some of them, they’re not accessible to everybody. Being able to give all of these kids Lakota names would mean the world to me.
This interview has been condensed and edited.
This story is part of a collaboration with the Transgender Law Center highlighting systemic violence and barriers that Indigenous trans, Two-Spirit, and gender-variant Pasifika people face — and the movements to overcome them. Read more here.