Renovation, reimagination and resilience
The impacts of COVID-19 on Native Sun Devils
By: Taylor Notah
Tribal affiliation: Diné
’18 BA Journalism
Moving 2,909 miles from an island to the desert was a hard transition at first for first-year freshman Kuaihelani Burgess (Native Hawaiian). Originally from O’ahu, Hawaii, Burgess came to Arizona State in fall 2019 to study sustainability. She missed her favorites of Hawaiian cuisine, poi and poke, but most of all she missed the ocean. She’d never been landlocked before.
“I had never been in a place where I could not look out and see the ocean in any and all directions. As an ocean lover, not being able to see the ocean at all was very difficult,” Burgess said.
Although she missed home, Burgess flourished with the independence that came with college. She loved dorm life where best friends were just down the hall. Her favorite campus spot was the Secret Garden. As an extrovert, she enjoyed meeting new people and experiencing college adventures.
“I always really enjoyed going to the football games and the overwhelming energy and school spirit at every game,” Burgess, 18, said. “My favorite was the first game I went to because I had never experienced all of the fireworks and opening ceremonies before. It was really amazing.”
Just as this new chapter began, the unprecedented COVID-19 pandemic changed Burgess and the rest of the ASU community’s lives in mid-March.
The disruptions of COVID-19
The first coronavirus case was discovered within the ASU community in late January. By mid-March, the Sun Devil community felt the pandemic’s full disruption as rapid changes resulted in a semester that nobody saw coming.
As COVID-19 cases began to rise nationally and globally, Arizona Governor Doug Ducey declared a public health emergency on March 11. That same day, President Michael Crow announced that classes would transition to online instruction for two weeks but five days later extended it through the end of the spring semester.
“We’re an institution here to serve our students and our communities. We’re going to do that through thick and thin to every extent that we possibly can,” Crow said in a March 16 video announcement. “We see this as a very complicated moment, we see this as a moment to keep our energy focused and really stay focused in all of this.”
Hearing these announcements, Burgess instantly knew that she was returning home.
“It was all within a couple days that my flights were made. I had to pack everything and move out of the dorms,” she said. “I was really sad. I was happy to be able to go home, see my family and be with them while all of this was happening — there was no better place for me to be — but I also knew that I’d be at home quarantined inside for at least five months.”
Following the strict guidelines from the Centers for Prevention for Disease Control and the Arizona Department of Health, statewide efforts were made to slow the spread of COVID-19. Social gatherings were cancelled and schools were closed through the end of the academic year. Residents were encouraged to “stay home, stay healthy, stay connected” and to only leave their homes for essentials.
As the pandemic crisis ensued, ASU remained open as it focused on a reduced campus presence and an intense digital focus. This resulted in an instructional pivot from in-person classes to interactive remote learning where, according to university data, 84,457 on-campus students participated in 4,918 courses in Canvas and 437,790 Zoom sessions were hosted throughout the semester.
As classes moved into the digital environment, Native campus leaders knew that COVID-19’s disproportionate impact in Indian Country meant new challenges for ASU’s 3,200-plus Indigenous students. Assessing how students were impacted resulted in the creation of the American Indian Student Response Team, or AISRT, in mid-March.
“The priority is our students’ health and safety because this is a pandemic,” said Associate Vice President of Tribal Relations Jacob Moore (Lakota, Dakota, Akimel O’odham, Tohono O’odham). “The disruption isn’t just in terms of their education. It’s impacting their families on a personal level. For some students, they’re going through grief and anxiety in terms of not knowing what to expect.”
AISRT categorized students’ immediate needs into four areas: health and safety; technological adaptability; socioeconomic impacts; and social and emotional impacts. To help enable the success of students amid the pandemic, AISRT disseminated multiple resources online such as a Frequently Asked Question list that reflected ASU’s coronavirus policies and highlighted available resources such as emergency funding, laptop checkouts and more. The American Indian Policy Institute also wrote policy papers that pushed ASU faculty to recognize the inequities of Indian Country’s digital divide and be considerate of students who may have returned to tribal communities without broadband.
For American Indian Studies graduate student Cecilia Marek (Diné, Nimiipuu, Hopi), the disruptions and sheltering-in-place order were an opportunity to focus on finalizing her thesis and preparing for her April defense. Her reformatted online defense came with new guidelines and rules from the traditional in-person exam.
“It was definitely an added stress of what I had to do,” Marek said. “When they announced that we had to defend online, I was like, ‘OK, that’s something on top of getting my draft done, on top of doing a presentation, I now have to figure out all of these things of how to hold it online.”
Following the requirements outlined by the Graduate College, Marek prepared the fine details of her remote presentation prior to her defense date. When the day arrived, Marek felt thankful to defend her thesis in the comforts of her home.
“I get really nervous when I speak publicly. I tend to have a shaky voice and sometimes I blank out,” she said. “To be able to have it in my house, that was helpful because it did ease some of those anxieties about public speaking. I was able to burn some sage and say a prayer before I started. I think I would’ve been able to do that outside of the building in-person, but I literally did it in the space that I spoke in, which was very important to me.”
While classes resumed, AISRT continued to triage students’ needs. The team hosted Native student forums via Zoom that gave students platforms to ask questions directly to university administration and voice any concerns. Tuning into one of these forums, interdisciplinary studies major Dawn Manuelito (San Carlos Apache, Diné) asked for resources available to her as a grieving student.
In her final semester as an undergraduate, Manuelito didn’t anticipate the virus to hit close to home. The mother of three initially felt prepared as her family took proactive steps to sheltering-in-place in Gilbert. However, she was still caught off guard when her family suffered the loss of four loved ones due to the virus.
“I’m doing everything I can to keep my head wrapped around school,” Manuelito said in April. “Watching what’s going on and keeping up with my assignments has been very hard because of the family tragedy and trauma that we’re going through right now… To get a call once a week that a loved one has passed away is unheard of. I’ve never experienced something like this before. The biggest impact is having to deal with the loss of loved ones from a distance and feeling so helpless that you can’t be there for them, especially as Native people. That’s what we do, we get together, we help each other get through these times. Traditionally, we’re used to laying to rest our loved one within four days, but that’s not even a possibility. Our family members can’t even go bury their mom right now.”
Following the forum, Manuelito found herself utilizing remote services from ASU Counseling, a resource that she hopes all students take advantage of during times of crisis.
“It does help to talk to somebody,” she said. “But I personally don’t think a lot of our Native American students come in to talk about that because there’s already so much trauma in our history. Generational trauma is real and this is going to be another part of that.”
As she continues to cope, Manuelito reflects on the stories shared by her grandparents about her lineage of strong ancestors.
“I’ve heard of the experiences through our grandmas and grandpas. I keep going back to that and our Creation stories,” Manuelito said. “We’re dealing with something we can’t see… We are taught from our stories that diseases and sicknesses are to be respected, not feared, because of the power and the danger that it can cause us and harm us.”
As COVID-19 responses led to tribal governments forcing the federal government to uphold its trust and treaty responsibilities, Moore encouraged students to reflect on why their degrees matter in times such as now.
“We are in a process of ceremony (which is) a ceremony is a process of cleansing, self-reflection and renewal,” he said. “It’s all required us to stop doing whatever we were doing and recognize that perhaps there’s something more important that we haven’t been paying attention to… Maybe now more than ever, students see why they’re pursuing their degrees, how important that work is, and how they can be a part of that change. It’s these kinds of disruptions that they’re well aware of when they’re most needed with that degree in hand.”
A semester reimagined virtually
As tumultuous as the semester played out, efforts of maintaining strength and support within the Native Sun Devil community were shown remotely. The Alliance for Indigenous Peoples continued to host Indigenous Culture Week through their Instagram and Facebook platforms. Indigenous writing groups still hosted weekly virtual writing sessions. And through online relief efforts, students and alumni provided aid to various tribal communities such as Navajo Nation, Hopi, Confederated Tribes of the Umatilla Indian Reservation in Oregon and more where supplies, food and water were transported to relatives in need.
As Manuelito uploaded her graduation pictures to the university commencement website, she leaves advice for students on remaining committed to goals even in the midst of a pandemic. Her sights are set on accomplishing future goals in giving back to Indian Country.
“Keep moving forward. Don’t let this pandemic distract you from your goals. You got to keep finishing strong and reach out to each other,” she said. “I can’t wait to finish and graduate so I can get out there and help my community.”
For Moore, seeing the community rise up and unite in a time of crisis exemplifies not only Indigenous resilience but the reimagination of Indigenous futures.
“The pandemic has shined a glaring light on inequities that have been around for decades and generations,” Moore said. “What an opportunity through disruption to create something new and think of new ways that we can deliver education. This shining light on inequity… is a real opportunity to take advantage of this disruption and create new ways of delivering that haven’t been done before.
“Let’s not do something that’s going to carry us until it gets back to normal, especially from ASU,” he said. “It’s in our ASU DNA to be innovative and talk about disruption and how we throw out the old and bring in the new. It’s about a process of renewal (and) rebuilding. Can we build it differently than what it was before?”
Though Burgess misses her life at ASU, she is taking in the valuable time and teachings spent on her homelands. In quarantine, her family has taken to living a healthier lifestyle through plant-based diets and gardening.
“I’ve been going up to the cacao farm that my dad runs almost every weekend to get out of the house and help out wherever he needs,” she said. “Being a Hawaiian family, we value sustainability and living off of the land, so we decided to build a garden at home.”
Marek was one of the Class of 2020’s 16,000 graduates who successfully defended her thesis online and was also recognized as the College of Liberal Arts and Sciences’ University Outstanding Graduate Student. Reflecting back, Marek said she was thankful to defend three years of graduate research amid the aroma of burned sage.
“Being able to burn my sage in my home and call my ancestors, my people, my dad into this space, I know that he was here watching over me. Knowing that gave me that strength to say my truth and defend what I wrote because I wrote it in a good way with a good heart,” she said. “I do believe words have impact, especially carrying energy and intention behind them. My thesis was focused on reclaiming and restoring women’s leadership that have been displaced, and recognizing generations of Native women’s leadership as a continuance of strength… I wanted to make sure that when I burned the sage and talked about it, I was doing it in a way that I was taught. I looked at it as a form of a prayer.”
