Growing up as a white-passing Tsalagi in a trailer park in the stolen lands of Cayuse, Umatilla, Walla Walla, Kalapuya, Yoncalla, Winefelly, Confederated Tribes of Grand Ronde, and Confederated Tribes of Siletz Indians (“Springfield, Oregon”), provided a unique backdrop for my childhood. Despite the lack of vocabulary to articulate my identity, I always felt a sense of disconnect from heteronormative labels. This awareness solidified later, amid conservative societal norms, where I realized my identity did not conform to prevailing cisgender heterosexual expectations. To navigate these challenges, I found solace in my Tsalagi culture and the immersive world of geek and nerdy pursuits, which provided a sanctuary from conservative pressures.

In my household, where fantasy, science fiction, and horror were cherished, bonding often revolved around shared interests in comic books, video games, and some discussions about our heritage. Fond memories of storytelling sessions with my grandparents, interspersed with Star Trek reruns, or engaging in Mortal Kombat matches with my mother after her factory shifts shaped my upbringing. Similarly, watching my father play video games and read comics influenced my fascination with superheroes and adventure narratives.

The cultural landscape of the ‘90s and 2000s, defined by bustling arcades and Saturday morning cartoons featuring iconic characters on X-MEN and Sailor Moon, provided the backdrop for my formative years. During this time, I found a kindred spirit with a fellow trailer park kid, united by our shared passion for all things geek and horror.

Although the term “bisexual” would later provide a semblance of identity during our youth, it failed to encapsulate the full breadth of our Native heritage and queer experiences. But we had our love of fiction and each other to fill in the holes as we learned more about ourselves.

As I ventured into anime and sci-fi conventions, I grappled with issues of objectification, racism, and the lack of Indigenous representation in these spaces. Despite these challenges, the allure of witnessing elaborate costumes, and art and engaging in discussions on pop culture topics remain undiminished. The emergence of Indigenous Comic Con, later known as IndigiPopX, offered a glimmer of hope—a space where my intersecting identities as an Indigiqueer individual and pop culture enthusiast converged in unexpected ways.

The possibility of attending IndigiPopX 2024 for the first time, held in traditional Caddo territory (“Oklahoma City”), sparked a deep sense of anticipation and connection to my ancestral roots. With ancestors listed on the Dawes Rolls and a family history intertwined with the tumultuous Indian Territory and broken promises, the opportunity to retrace familial footsteps and immerse myself in a community of like-minded Indiginerds held immense significance.

As I entered the First Americans Museum at IndigiPopX, I felt a profound sense of belonging—an affirmation of my identity and cultural heritage amidst a backdrop of creativity and excitement. From participating in metalsmithing workshops to engaging in heartfelt conversations with fellow attendees, every moment at IndigiPopX underscored the power of community and the enduring legacy of what it means to me to be Indigenous and a total “nerd-o”.

During a panel discussion with co-founder of Rising Sons Media, Sadekaronhes Esquivel (Kanien’keha:ke/Mohawk and Mexican descent, agender), I learned more about the Indigenous Futurist role-playing game (RPG) Coyote and Crow and a Cyber Noir computer game called Hill Agency: PURITYdecay in which colonizers left the planet after destroying it while Indigenous people remained and rebuild. Discovering the main character happens to be a Two-Spirit private investigator in one of the last remaining cities in North America solving challenges that resonate with the Native experience—I knew I had to chat with someone involved in its creation. To my excitement, I had the opportunity to interview Sadekaronhes later in Duwamish territory (greater “Seattle” area).

Sadekaronhes, who prefers the first name as a pronoun, reflected on the personal journey through the shifting landscapes of Indigenous identity and geek culture. “I’ve never really felt like I belong to one group or another,” Sadekaronhes shared, highlighting reflections on gender identity. Sadekaronhes’ formative years, shaped by the fusion of traditional experience and being a Native growing up attending powwows and 80s pop culture, laid the groundwork for Sadekaronhes’ creative exploration. “[Fiction should have] Natives in space. Star Wars didn’t have that, Star Trek didn’t have that,” Sadekaronhes mused, underscoring the significance of representation in shaping Sadekaronhes’ imagination.

As Sadekaronhes’ career evolved, Sadekaronhes became a pivotal figure in the emerging Indigenous representation within geek culture. “Imagination was always an escape… Native art is whatever we want it to be,” Sadekaronhes emphasized, echoing the commitment to challenging stereotypes and paving the way for future generations. Through Sadekaronhes’ work from comics to game development, Sadekaronhes seeks to empower young Indigenous individuals to dream beyond societal confines. “If we can’t imagine, do we have a future as a Nation?” Sadekaronhes questioned, embodying a spirit of resilience and determination that continues to inspire change in the ever-evolving landscape of geek culture with the Native community.

Later at the convention, I immersed myself in a cultural journey and shared reflections during the Grand Celebration Ceremony, highlighting artistry, tradition, and resilience, in the face of the ongoing challenges of colonial violence. What was most important to me was the prayer and honoring of fellow Two-Spirit relative Nex Benedict, a non-binary Choctaw descendent. Benedict lived on the Cherokee Nation reservation and attended a primarily non-Native school. They were the target of anti-queer violence and bullying that eventually took their life. Afterward, the songs performed by the Cherokee Youth Choir allowed community members to mourn and a space for healing.

As I continued exploring the con, I participated in fashion discussions with Native Max Magazine, saw the creative endeavors of comic artist Roy Boney Jr., who breathes his style into the Tsalagi language and culture revitalization, and met actors from the hit series “Reservation Dogs”. Along with other attendees, I tasted the culinary delights prepared by Choctaw and Cherokee chefs which tantalized the taste buds with Indigenous ingredients like corn, chokecherries, and persimmons.

IndigiPopX also offered moments of levity with cultural considerations, during the thought-provoking presentation of the founder of A Tribe Called Geek and Grim Native, Johnnie Jae (Choctaw/Otoe-Missouria asexual woman). Using a scenario in which the dead rise while drawing upon Indigenous knowledge and cultural practices, Jae outlined strategies for community resilience, from leveraging traditional strongholds to fostering safer communication channels rooted in ancestral sign language.

Delving deeper into the realms of horror and storytelling, I wandered into a panel discussion on Indigenous in the horror fantasy genre led by esteemed Native writers and artists. Speakers included Johnnie Jae, Shane Hawk (Cheyenne & Arapaho), and Jim Terry (Ho Chunk). The panel was moderated by Weyodi Oldbear (Comanche), delving into the nuances of Indigenous representation in the genre. Reflecting on personal experiences and cultural insights, participants explored themes of stereotype subversion, historical erasure, and the colonial underpinnings of the cannibalism and haunted house trope while celebrating works of Blackfeet horror writer Stephen Graham Jones and having a good laugh over campy films such as 1989 film “The Cellar”.

Afterward, I got the chance to connect with Weyodi Oldbear (bisexual, she/her) for an interview over video chat. Oldbear, a mother of three children, two of whom are transgender and one cishet autistic physicist, integrates experienced identities into her commitment to inclusivity within her work as a Native science fiction writer.

In our conversation, Oldbear delved into the themes of her work, which often feature 2SLGBTQIA+ characters, emphasizing her belief that the geek/nerd fan culture operates as a gift economy, driven more by passion and recognition than financial gain. She also highlighted her upcoming projects, including characters like Tilly, a transfem cousin, and Victor, a gay man, illustrating the diverse representation she strives to achieve.

When asked about her pride in being an Indigiqueer person in the geek community, Oldbear said: “I don’t know if pride is the right word but I love to see the flowering of geekdom as a beautiful, diverse and accepting space. It wasn’t always that way.” She emphasized the positive evolution of the geek community towards greater inclusivity, celebrating diverse identities. Oldbear stressed the importance of creating space for Native voices within geek culture to combat stereotypes and offer fresh perspectives. Reflecting on her experience at IndigiPopX 2024, she described it as ” drinking from a firehose of Indigenous creativity.”

As IndigiPopX came to a close, I experienced a mix of emotions, tinged with both sadness and sweetness as I prepared to leave. Reflecting on the vibrant blend of Indigenous heritage and geek culture, alongside the recognition of the diversity within our Indigiqueer community, I felt a deep sense of connection, unlike any other convention experience. It was a unique blessing. Held in the old Indian Territory, a place where my family had been relocated before fleeing to the Pacific Northwest, attending this convention felt like more than just a gathering—it felt like another step in my family’s ongoing journey of intergenerational healing and validation to my cultural, gender and orientation identity.