Iris

“My name is Iris Karrington.  I am 60 years old.  I am First Nation Ojibway, Sandy Bay First Nation treaty number one, and my spirit name is Circling Thunderbird Woman.  A spirit name is used in our culture for pow wow dances where we wear traditional regalia and smoke tobacco to honour our grandfathers and grandmothers.  We use our spirit name to pray to them.  We also say prayers to Turtle Island and to God.      

I grew up in Amaranth, Manitoba, a little town off the reserve.  I was about 6 years old when I started to think I was gay.  Growing up, I would wear makeup and my grandmother’s dresses and shoes when she was not home.  My brothers and people in my community would make fun of me and call me a fag, homo and fruit.  It made me feel awful.  At times I did not feel like living. I wanted to commit suicide.

At age 11, I started the process of discovering that I was a transwoman.  I watched drag shows on TV on Donahue and Geraldo and when I saw that, I wanted to do the same.   At age 11, I did not completely understand that I was a transwoman.  All I knew was that I felt wonderful when I saw the glamour of the clothes and makeup of the performers – I wanted to perform and be like them.  When I was an adult I would eventually perform at night clubs in Vancouver, often performing as Tina Turner.  I would get a rush performing on stage.  At age 25, I would finally discover myself as a transwoman.

I started living in foster care at age 12 and went through 4 different foster families.  I was raped at each of the homes, so I ran away from all of them.   

At age 14, I ran away to escape from my grandfather who was an alcoholic and fighting with my grandmother.  I ran away to Winnipeg to work on the streets as a sex worker.  The money was quick and I didn’t have to wait long on the streets because my brothers and sisters lived there.     

At age 17 I lost my grandfather due to a heart attack and my grandmother shortly after that due to loneliness.  I was very close to them, even my grandfather despite his addiction, and I went into shock when they died.  My mother had already died before in 1973 (she was only 39) and my brother in 1987 (he was only 22).  My grandparents’ deaths added to the trauma of losing my mother and brother and that was when I started doing drugs and drinking to cope.  I started using alcohol and then I started using cocaine. 

When I was 19 years old, I moved to Vancouver and it was there that I started shooting meth.  I got introduced to meth through friends.  For me it took one try of it and I became addicted.  It felt wonderful, a great high, but a lot of sweating.  Back then it was very potent.  

I used meth for 7 years and I finally quit when I went into psychosis at the age of 26 due to my meth use.  I was sent to a psych ward and I remember seeing guns pulled on by men who were hiding under my bed.  I was there for 2 weeks.  After this happened, I decided to quit.  I quit cold turkey and it was easy for me.  Everyone is different with their journey of quitting meth and mine happened to be easy at that time.

Around the time I was 19, that was also the start of the AIDS crisis.  I would use drugs and alcohol to cope with the deaths of my gay and trans friends due to HIV/AIDS.  I would keep them company in the hospital as caregiver due to their families not accepting them.  They would stay on the 10th floor C of St. Paul’s Hospital where AIDS patients were often packed 4 to a room.  I would visit them in the hospital to talk to them, bring them food like fresh fruit, candies and drinks.  I would stay with them all the way into the night and then go to the bar after to drink because it was so overwhelming.  When my friends died, I did not go to all the funerals because it was too hard.  

In 1992, at age 27, I got diagnosed with Hep C.  I had gotten Hep C from getting pricked by a needle that was in the kitchen drawer of one of my friends who was injecting drugs at the time.  I felt sad because I thought I was going to die.  I didn’t get treatment until two years later at the recommendation of my doctor.  The treatment involved taking one pill a day for 6 months and at the end of it I was cured.

In 2010 I started moving back and forth between Toronto and Vancouver.  During this time I was still doing sex work.  In 2016, I finally settled permanently in Toronto. 

In 2018 my brother died from an aneurysm and it affected me a lot. It hurt me emotionally and spiritually.  I travelled back to Winnipeg for his funeral and I was so lost and traumatized, I did not remember much of what happened during that time.  For a month after, I was in a state of continuous blackout and at some point, when I came to it, I realized I had started using meth again.

For the past 7 years since my brother’s passing, I have used meth to help numb the pain, sorrow and  grief I feel because of losing him.  I am in the process of trying to overcome my depression but it’s a difficult process.  I know I need to let go of him so I can move on but it’s hard. 

I have tried to quit meth many times since my brother’s death but the shock is still there.  I have been invited to go to rehab on a reservation outside of Toronto called Six Nations but it’s far from Toronto.

I started going to the Parkdale Queen West Community Health Centre supervised consumption site in 2019.  An SCS is a wonderful place where you can do your ‘magic’ lol – I Inject meth there (because at this SCS you cannot inhale) and the staff watch me to make sure that I am safe.  They keep me safe from overdosing on meth.  A lot of the drugs sold on the street like meth are contaminated with fentanyl which can kill you in seconds.  If someone at the SCS uses fentanyl or a drug containing fentanyl and they start to overdose, the staff will help them with oxygen and/or naloxone.

Before using the SCS, I was using meth alone and it was causing me hallucinations.  I started going to the SCS to feel more comfortable, to feel less alone, to be with people and get relief from the grief I felt for my brother.  It is there that I am able to talk to staff and community members about my feelings.  People will ask me, ‘Are you ok?’,  ‘What’s wrong?’ and I am able to cry in front of them.  At the SCS, people will hug me, sit with me and comfort me. I love everyone there, they are like a family.  People cheer up when they see me and they make me smile.  They love me there.  It is my second home.  When I move I will still visit.  I will not be doing meth anymore at that point. 

I have lost many friends to the overdoses, on the street, back alleys and washrooms.  It is an epidemic here in Toronto.  I think that SCS should stay open 24/7 and not only 9 hours.  People need it to stay safe.  If they don’t get the help there, they cannot survive the streets.

I think it is selfish that the premier of Ontario Doug Ford wants to close SCSs in Toronto.  When the SCSs close, a lot more people will die.  At the moment there are not enough SCSs open and we need more to open.  My message to Doug Ford and to the people trying to close down SCSs – fucking keep them open.  If we were your family, you would not close them.   

As an Ojibway person, when I struggle, I pray to my grandfathers and my ancestors.  Sometimes I have a lot on my mind and I cannot think straight.  After I pray to them , it gives me a sense of peace.  I feel their presence….holding me, touching me….I talk to them a lot…they are with me 24/7.  The spirits help with my depression.

In Ojibway culture, nature is important for healing.  I talk to plants in nature.  For example, I talk to the shrubs outside of the SCS and they create hearts for me that nobody else can see.  I also talk to the water, like the lake.  We are born from Mother Nature and talking to the water reminds me we are born from the waters of Her womb.

I would like to end with a quote: Safety, dignity, and healthcare, for all trans people.”

This story is part of ‘No More Shame’ – a photostory project that illuminates the lived/living experiences of BIPOC folks who use drugs and aims to destigmatize substance use.  The project explores the connections between mental health, social identity, oppression,  and drug use. This is an initiative of the BIPOC Harm Reduction Alliance and ACAS BIPOC harm reduction program, made possible by funding from Asian Community AIDS Services.