Finding a traditional way to play
Lacrosse player Nina Polk struggled with mental health and confidence as a student athlete before finding her path in the traditional game and on Tik Tok, where she has 77,500 followers.
Nina Polk stepped onto the muddy field, raindrops on the black lacrosse bag slung across her shoulder. She stood by the rest of her team, and laced up her white cleats and grabbed her black ashwood stick, its maroon leather pocket bound tight by twine. On this day in early May, they played for parents, healing and for the Creator. Not for what modern lacrosse is known for today: preppy, spendy and elitist.
The ball launched into the air for the Creator to see. For Polk, 21, traditional lacrosse is a healing game gifted by the Creator to connect prayer, nature and the people.
In 2014, Polk, Sicăngu Lakota, Diné, San Carlos Apache and Queschan, began playing traditional lacrosse with Twin Cities Native Lacrosse. TCNL was founded by John Hunter that year to teach more people about the game and for Native youth to have community. But Polk was not a fan of sports at the time. She says her high school basketball teammates snickered over jokes they made about her appearance: tall, dark skin, brown eyes, long brown hair. She was the only Native player. Polk became shy and quiet. Her mom, Dyani White Hawk Polk, encouraged her to try lacrosse, where among a Native community she could be herself. When she walked into the gymnasium, her eyes widened, intrigued by the wooden sticks.
Hunter welcomed her onto the team. And Polk helped him create a traditional lacrosse community where her confidence rose on and off the field. At TCNL, she taught her younger sister Tuweca Polk how to play and be a confident athlete.
“The people at TCNL know how loud and goofy I really am,” Polk said.
Polk went on to play modern lacrosse for Prior Lake High School. But on this team Polk and Tayler Netzke, her best friend, were the only people of color, in a school with a 1 percent Native population. Polk played in 45 JV games and never made it to the varsity level.
“They underestimated me,” Polk said.
Her senior year was lost due to COVID-19. During that time Polk began posting videos on TikTok that taught traditional lacrosse and brought awareness to Native issues: Boarding schools, sexual/domestic assault and appropriation of Native fashion. She eventually grew her TikTok feed to 77,500 followers and gained the attention of Premier Lacrosse League, an eight-team professional lacrosse league. In 2021, Polk was able to coordinate a traditional game for the PLL and TCNL at the Minnesota Vikings’ training facility in Eagan, Minnesota, during the summer of 2022.
Polk committed to playing NCAA Division II lacrosse for Fort Lewis College in Colorado as an art major. Fort Lewis had been a federal Indian boarding school before becoming a high school, then a college that gives scholarships to Native students. At the school, Polk found a 27 percent Native population, and it offered Division II modern lacrosse.
“There was no weight on my shoulders,” Polk said. “Until after freshman year.”
COVID-19 disrupted classes at Fort Lewis and sent Polk home to Minnesota. It reminded her of the time lost during her senior year of high school, which took a toll on her mental health. Her family tried to support her after she flew to Minnesota from Fort Lewis for Thanksgiving break and took finals at home.
“We couldn’t help her cope,” Polk’s father Danny said. “We had never dealt with a global pandemic.”
When she returned to Colorado in the spring of her freshman year, she was again 1,246 miles from her family, community and traditional lacrosse.
Depression and anxiety crept inside of her. She said it felt like one thing after another went wrong. Her set plan for her future was changing, no longer enjoying her art major or the grind of being a student athlete. She could not move forward.
She woke up early to practice, skipped meals to do homework, class, practice, homework.. She dreaded her the next art class she would sulk through. Instead of class, Polk went to the only place she felt control: the field.
Swish, swish, clink. She shot the balls into the net.
My dad wouldn’t be happy I’m doing this.
Polk’s focus and grades slipped. Lacrosse became her only escape. Her mind finally blank and at ease.
“It all hit at the end of the year,” Polk said. “When final grades came in, I lost it.”
She was no longer eligible to play.
At home that summer, Polk reunited with her family and the Minnesota lacrosse community. Premier Lacrosse League asked her to host a social media takeover and lacrosse game for Native American Heritage Month the following November.
Polk took the next semester off and changed her major from art to Native American and Indigenous Studies. She says she trained and rebuilt her confidence through her family and traditional lacrosse.
She returned to her Fort Lewis team.
The Arizona sun beat down her back as Polk warmed up with Fort Lewis teammates in her first game back at the collegiate level. An away tournament at Grand Canyon Universitys’ stadium in Phoenix, AZ. Division I prospects played for the opposing team. She was nervous.
Her dad called her to the sidelines where he and her grandpa “Papa Damon” sat. Papa Damon gifted her a red powder, used for protection. She drew the sacred powder on her wrists and head. Then she put it on her knee and drew a lightning bolt. Her grandfather also gifted her a tobacco pouch. Polk prayed and tucked it away into her sock. Tobacco is a gift from the Creator as is lacrosse. She was no longer nervous.
“His gifts are like medicine to me,” said Polk.
The red powder lightningbolt, prayer and tobacco became her pregame ritual to get her prepared for the battle on the field.
“I realized I do belong, I am a worthy player.” — Nina Polk
During her junior season Polk became the fourth-leading sorcerer on her team. She increased her goals from 1 her freshman year to 10 her junior year. She took 25 shots on goal.
“I realized I do belong,” Polk said. “I am a worthy player.”
“It was hard to admit I needed a day, as student athletes we don’t want to be seen as weak or tired.” -Nina Polk
Even though Polks’ GPA was higher, she was a leading scorer and melding the two worlds of her confidence in traditional to modern, she still struggled with her mental health. She said seasons of depression and anxiety came and went. Her team only allowed one day a semester to stay off the field — a “mental health day.” Polk talked with coach Ashley Travis to cash in her break.
“It was hard to admit I needed a day,” Polk said. “As student athletes, we don’t want to be seen as weak or tired.”
From then on, the two of them met weekly. But Polk needed a stronger community to support her. She needed something that Fort Lewis could not offer her.
“There’s a lot of pressure on and off the field, to maintain your grades, play well and keep up with what your coaches expect from you. It becomes even heavier with mental health struggles.” -Danny Polk
She returned home again in 2024. Having been a college athlete, too, Polk’s father sympathized with her stress.
“There’s a lot of pressure on and off the field,” Danny said. “To maintain your grades, play well and keep up with what your coaches expect from you. It becomes even heavier with mental health struggles.”
Polk is considering transferring to a school closer to her family and traditional lacrosse community in Minnesota. While she weighs her options for education Polk has more time to continue to fight for Native issues.
Polk continues to inspire Native youth by working with TCNL to host weekly games on Sundays in local Minneapolis parks, bringing posts and sticks, and coordinating tournaments for kids. She wants to give back confidence and encourage a new generation of traditional lacrosse players.
“I want to motivate young athletes,” Polk said. “To not miss out and not be scared.”
Taylor Fruetel, 17, is a freshman journalist at Bethel University in St. Paul. She is a staff reporter for Bethel’s newspaper The Clarion and she plays varsity high school hockey and lacrosse.
This story was part of a partnership between Bethel University’s journalism program and ICT editors Kevin Abourezk, Dianna Hunt and Dalton Walker.
