A mom of seven, Pipe is a doula on the reservation who supports new and expectant parents. She does that work free, around her day job. That’s because in this town of about 2,000 people, the closest hospital that delivers babies is 100 miles away.

“Women need this help,” Pipe said.

Doulas ready parents for childbirth, support their deliveries, and can be a steady presence in a baby’s first months. their work with lower rates of costly birth and postpartum complications — especially in hard-to-reach places like Lame Deer.

But that help can be scarce. As Pipe put it: “Doula doesn’t pay the bills around here.”

Things were supposed to change this year. Montana was set to join that reimburse doulas through their Medicaid programs to ease gaps in care. Montana lawmakers approved the payments last year, authorizing up to $1,600 per pregnancy. Pipe hoped that money would give her the chance to leave her post office job one day to help more parents.

But the state Department of Public Health and Human Services postponed adding doula services to its Medicaid program in late March, citing a budget shortfall driven in part by higher-than-expected Medicaid costs.

“DPHHS will not be moving forward with the implementation of doula services in the Montana Medicaid benefit package at this time,” department spokesperson Holly Matkin told Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News.

The news caught Pipe by surprise — she hadn’t heard any updates in a while, but the state had finalized its licensing rules for doulas in January. Last year, she supported three people through their deliveries. She doesn’t have time for much more. That weighs on her. the people on the Northern Cheyenne Indian Reservation , and the people she helps usually can’t afford to pay a doula.

“I was looking forward to serving more people,” Pipe said. “Now that’s not going to happen anytime soon.”

Charlie Brereton, who heads the health department, told state lawmakers in March that the agency projected a $146.3 million shortfall in federal Medicaid funds for this year. Health officials predict another deficit next year as states feel the effects of Republicans’ massive tax-and-spending law, the One Big Beautiful Bill Act. Signed last year, that law is projected to reduce federal Medicaid spending by nearly $1 trillion over 10 years.

Matkin said it’s “unclear” whether the agency can authorize doula coverage this year. The deficit will lead the department to seek supplemental funding from state lawmakers. When an agency makes that kind of request for the first year of the state’s two-year budget cycle, requires it to create a plan to reduce its spending.

Around the country, optional Medicaid services — such as doula support, home health care, and dental work — are at risk of losing funding as states brace for federal Medicaid cuts to hit their bottom lines. Already, lawmakers in Idaho are considering their own reductions to Medicaid to balance the state’s budget. cutting tens of millions of dollars in services for people with disabilities.

In Montana, doula services are unlikely to be the only Medicaid cutbacks announced. “All options are on the table,” Brereton told lawmakers in March.

Stephanie Morton, executive director of Healthy Mothers, Healthy Babies-The Montana Coalition, said more than half of Montana’s counties are designated as maternity care deserts.

“Budget cuts will continue to diminish the limited services families rely upon in these counties,” said Morton, whose nonprofit had advocated for doula Medicaid reimbursement. “This decision feels like the first of many rollbacks and cuts Montanans will face.”

Laboring Alone

At the check-in just outside town, Pipe handed a waking newborn to his mother and unwrapped a new swaddle for the child. This would have to be a quick visit — she was already late for work.

The mother, Britney WolfVoice, held her newborn son as her three young daughters stood close by. Pipe has been with WolfVoice and her husband for the birth of their newborn son and youngest daughter.

She helped them create delivery plans. For the birth of WolfVoice’s youngest daughter a few years ago, Pipe brought cedar oil, a sacred plant used for prayer, and calmed WolfVoice through her contractions. For the recent birth of her son, when hospital backlogs delayed WolfVoice’s induction, Pipe encouraged her to advocate for an earlier appointment by routinely calling the hospital. Doctors had recommended the procedure to avoid complications.

“Misty is one person who I can count on to be my voice,” WolfVoice said.

If someone needs a ride to a doctor’s appointment, Pipe takes time off work to drive them. If a client goes into labor when Pipe’s at the post office, she texts two other free doulas she knows of on the reservation to see if they have time to help until her shift ends. But they also have day jobs.

Pipe herself has ridden that 100-mile stretch between home and the hospital in labor and in the back of an ambulance. Twice, she gave birth in emergency rooms along the way. In one of her pregnancies, she miscarried at home and couldn’t get a doctor appointment for days.

The long distance to receive care often meant her husband had to stay behind to tend to their other children at home.

“I labored alone so many times,” Pipe said. “I just want to make sure no one’s alone.”

Rural maternity care deserts are a , especially as labor and delivery units continue to shutter. In many tribal communities, a lack of care coincides with long-standing inequities caused by centuries of .

Predominantly Indigenous communities face the longest distances to obstetric facilities compared with all other racial and ethnic groups, according to a 2024 report from the March of Dimes. That’s part of the reason Indigenous women are far more likely to get sick from pregnancy and as white women.

Indigenous patients are supposed to be guaranteed access to health care through the federal Indian Health Service. But the chronically underfunded agency has severe gaps. A small fraction of its hospitals and clinics offer labor and delivery. As of 2024, only seven states had either an IHS or tribal birth facility, . To help fill in those shortfalls, Medicaid is the for many Native Americans, according to KFF.

Even where care exists, Native women can experience a distrust of health systems, according to Pipe and other health workers. The U.S. government has a long history of removing children from tribal homes and forcing Native American women to undergo sterilization.

of the Pacific Institute for Research and Evaluation’s Southwest center has studied premature deaths among Native Americans. A member of the Fort Sill-Chiricahua-Warm Springs-Apache Tribe, Haozous said data on maternal health disparities in pregnancy and postpartum often misses a key point.

“It’s not that women are just not taking care of themselves,” Haozous said. “The system is set up for them to not have access to care.”

On top of funding cuts, the One Big Beautiful Bill Act will add more frequent eligibility checks and work requirements to access Medicaid. Those changes, when they take effect later this year and next, will lead an estimated 5.3 million people to lose their coverage by 2034.

Native Americans are exempt from some of the law’s new rules, such as the work requirements. Even so, tribal patients can get tangled in administrative hurdles. That includes struggling to enroll in the first place or to prove their tribal status. A full-time college student, WolfVoice said that when she got pregnant, it took about six months to enroll in the state’s Medicaid program.

Despite Montana’s long struggle with a backlogged Medicaid system, state officials aim to implement work requirements this summer, well before the federal deadline.

‘Moccasins on the Ground’

As Pipe pulled into her driveway one day after a full shift at the post office, her kids ran to her. She was also greeted by Felicia Blindman, a 63-year-old public health nurse who used to work for the tribe. The two sat in lawn chairs into the night and brainstormed ways to connect more women to services — such as free prenatal classes.

Pipe’s four youngest children played around them. Her 14-year-old daughter is already certified as an Indigenous doula. Her 8-year-old daughter has begun helping Pipe pick up prescriptions for moms without a car who live out of town. Pipe hopes one day they could do that work full-time, if they want to.

Because of the lost Medicaid payment, Pipe said, she will continue to balance her job with her birth work, even if it means persuading more people to become doulas, such as family and respected community members, to cover more ground.

“It’s not going to stop me from training more birth workers, more young people, more aunties,” Pipe said. “For now, I guess it’s more about grassroots, moccasins on the ground, helping each other.”

She said that means telling pregnant people who walk into the post office she’s there to help if they need support. At least, as long as she’s not at her day job.

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In 2024, the most recent year for which data for the population is available, Native American and Alaska Native people had the among major demographic groups, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. 

According to a CDC analysis of 2021 data from 46 maternal mortality review committees, , deaths among Native American and Alaska Native people were considered preventable. 

In response, Native organizations, the CDC, and some states are working to boost Native American participation in state maternal mortality review committees, which investigate deaths that occur during pregnancy or within a year after birth. Native organizations are also considering ways tribes could create their own committees. 

Kim Moore-Salas, of the Arizona Maternal Mortality Review Committee, said tribal sovereignty, experience, and traditional knowledge are important factors to consider in developing tribal-led committees. 

“Our matriarchs, our moms, are what carries a nation forward,” she said. 

In 2024, Moore-Salas, a member of the Navajo Nation, became the first Native American co-chair of Arizona’s committee. Last year, she and other Native members of the committee developed guidelines for an American Indian/Alaska Native subcommittee and reviewed its first cases. 

The National Council of Urban Indian Health is also working to increase the participation of Urban Indian health organizations in state committee processes. As of 2025, the council had connected Urban Indian health organizations to state maternal mortality review committees in California, Kansas, Oklahoma, and South Dakota. 

Native leaders such as Moore-Salas find the efforts encouraging. 

“It shows that state and tribes can work together,” she said. 

After her stillbirth, Swaney had another complicated pregnancy. She went into labor about three months early, and doctors didn’t expect her son to survive. But he did, and Kelly Camel is now 48. He has severe cerebral palsy and profound deafness. He lives alone but has caregivers to help with cooking and other tasks, said Swaney, 73. 

He “has a good sense of humor,” she said. “He’s kind to other people. We couldn’t ask for a more complete child.”

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Then 25 years old and six months pregnant, she drove herself to the emergency room in Ronan, Montana, on the Flathead Indian Reservation, where an ambulance transferred her to a larger hospital 60 miles away in Missoula. Once she arrived, the staff couldn’t detect her baby’s heartbeat. Swaney began to bleed heavily. She delivered a stillborn baby and was hospitalized for several days. At one point, doctors told her to call her family. They didn’t expect her to survive.

“It certainly changed my life — the experience — but my life has not been a bad life,” she told Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News.

Though her experiences were nearly 50 years ago, Swaney, a member of the Confederated Salish and Kootenai Tribes, said Native Americans continue to receive inadequate maternal care. The data appears to support that belief.

In 2024, the most recent year for which data for the population is available, Native American and Alaska Native people had the among major demographic groups, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

In response to this disparity, Native organizations, the CDC, and some states are working to boost tribal participation in state maternal mortality review committees to better track and address pregnancy-related deaths in their communities. Native organizations are also considering ways tribes could create their own committees.

State maternal mortality review committees investigate deaths that occur during pregnancy or within a year after pregnancy, analyze data, and issue policy recommendations to lower death rates.

According to , deaths among Native American and Alaska Native people were considered preventable.

Our matriarchs, our moms, are what carries a nation forward.

Kim Moore-Salas

State committees have received federal money through the Preventing Maternal Deaths Act, which President Donald Trump signed in 2018.

But the money is scheduled to dry up on Jan. 31, when the short-term spending bill that ended the government shutdown expires.

Funding for the committees is included in the Labor, Health and Human Services, Education, and Related Agencies for fiscal year 2026. That bill must be approved by the House, Senate, and president to take effect.

Native American leaders said including members of their communities in maternal mortality review committee activities is an important step in addressing mortality disparities.

In 2023, tribal leaders and federal officials met to discuss four models: a mortality review committee for each tribe, a committee for each of the 12 Indian Health Service administrative regions, a national committee to review all Native American maternal deaths, and the addition of Native American subcommittees to state committees.

Whatever the model, tribal sovereignty, experience, and traditional knowledge are important factors, said Kim Moore-Salas, a co-chair of the Arizona Maternal Mortality Review Committee. She’s also the chairperson of the panel’s American Indian/Alaska Native mortality review subcommittee and a member of the Navajo Nation.

“Our matriarchs, our moms, are what carries a nation forward,” she said.

Mental health conditions and infection were the leading underlying causes of pregnancy-related death among Native American and Alaska Native women as of 2021, according to the CDC report analyzing data from 46 states.

The CDC found an estimated 68% of pregnancy-related deaths among Native American and Alaska Native people happened within a week of delivery to a year postpartum. The majority of those happened between 43 days and a year after birth.

The federal government has a responsibility under signed treaties to provide health care to the 575 federally recognized tribes in the U.S. through the Indian Health Service. Tribal members can receive limited services at no cost, but the agency is underfunded and understaffed.

A that analyzed data from 2016 to 2020 found that approximately 75% of Native American and Alaska Native pregnant people didn’t have access to care through the Indian Health Service around the time of giving birth, meaning many likely sought care elsewhere. More than 90% of Native American and Alaska Native births occur outside of IHS facilities, . For those who did deliver at IHS facilities, a from the Department of Health and Human Services’ Office of Inspector General found that 56% of labor and delivery patients received care that did not follow national clinical guidelines.

The 2024 study’s authors also found that members of the population were less likely to have stable insurance coverage and more likely to have a lapse in coverage during the period close to birth than non-Hispanic white people.

Cindy Gamble, who is Tlingit and a tribal community health consultant for the American Indian Health Commission in Washington, has been a member of the state’s maternal mortality review panel for about eight years. In the time she’s been on the state panel, she said, its composition has broadened to include more people of color and community members.

The panel also began to include suicide, overdose, and homicide deaths in its data analysis and added racism and discrimination to the risk factors considered during its case review process.

Solutions need to be tailored to the tribe’s identity and needs, Gamble said.

“It’s not a one-size-fits-all,” Gamble said, “because of all the beliefs and different cultures and languages that different tribes have.”

Gamble’s tenure on the state committee is distinctive. Few states have tribal representation on maternal mortality review committees, according to the National Indian Health Board, a nonprofit organization that advocates for tribal health.

The National Council of Urban Indian Health is also the participation of Urban Indian health organizations, which provide care for Native American people who live outside of reservations, in state maternal mortality review processes. As of 2025, the council had connected Urban Indian health organizations to state review committees in California, Kansas, Oklahoma, and South Dakota.

Native leaders such as Moore-Salas find the current efforts encouraging.

“It shows that state and tribes can work together,” she said.

In March 2024, Moore-Salas became the first Native American co-chair of Arizona’s Maternal Mortality Review Committee. In 2025 she and other Native American members of the committee developed guidelines for the American Indian/Alaska Native subcommittee and reviewed the group’s first cases.

The subcommittee is exploring ways to make the data collection and analysis process more culturally relevant to their population, Moore-Salas said.

But it takes time for policy changes to create widespread change in the health of a population, Gamble said. Despite efforts around the country, other factors may hinder the pace of progress. For example, maternity care deserts are growing nationally, caused by rapid hospital and labor and delivery unit closures. Health experts have raised concerns that upcoming cuts to Medicaid will hasten these closures.

Despite her experience and the ongoing crisis among Native American and Alaska Native people, Swaney hopes for change.

She had a second complicated pregnancy soon after her stillbirth. She went into labor about three months early, and the doctors said her son wouldn’t live to the next morning. But he did, and he was transferred about 525 miles away from Missoula to the nearest advanced neonatal unit, in Salt Lake City.

Her son, Kelly Camel, is now 48. He has severe cerebral palsy and profound deafness. He lives alone but has caregivers to help with cooking and other tasks, said Swaney, 73.

He “has a good sense of humor. He’s kind to other people. We couldn’t ask for a more complete child.”

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LODGE GRASS, Mont. — Brothers Lonny and Teyon Fritzler walked amid the tall grass and cottonwood trees surrounding their boarded-up childhood home near the Little Bighorn River and daydreamed about ways to rebuild.

The rolling prairie outside the single-story clapboard home is where Lonny learned from their grandfather how to break horses. It’s where Teyon learned from their grandmother how to harvest buffalo berries. It’s also where they watched their father get addicted to meth.

Teyon, now 34, began using the drug at 15 with their dad. Lonny, 41, started after college, which he said was partly due to the stress of caring for their grandfather with dementia. Their own addictions to meth persisted for years, outlasting the lives of both their father and grandfather.

It took leaving their home in Lodge Grass, a town of about 500 people on the Crow Indian Reservation, to recover. Here, methamphetamine use is widespread.

The brothers stayed with an aunt in Oklahoma as they learned to live without meth. Their family property has sat empty for years — the horse corral’s beams are broken and its roof caved in, the garage tilts, and the house needs extensive repairs. Such crumbling structures are common in this Native American community, hammered by the effects of meth addiction. Lonny said some homes in disrepair would cost too much to fix. It’s typical for multiple generations to crowd under one roof, sometimes for cultural reasons but also due to the area’s housing shortage.

“We have broken-down houses, a burnt one over here, a lot of houses that are not livable,” Lonny said as he described the few neighboring homes.

In Lodge Grass, an estimated 60% of the residents age 14 and older struggle with drug or alcohol addictions, according to a local survey contracted by the Mountain Shadow Association, a local, Native-led nonprofit. For many in the community, the buildings in disrepair are symbols of that struggle. But signs of renewal are emerging. In recent years, the town has torn down more than two dozen abandoned buildings. Now, for the first time in decades, new businesses are going up and have become new symbols — those of the town’s effort to recover from the effects of meth.

One of those new buildings, a day care center, arrived in October 2024. A parade of people followed the small, wooden building through town as it was delivered on the back of a truck. It replaced a formerly abandoned home that had tested positive for traces of meth.

“People were crying,” said Megkian Doyle, who heads the Mountain Shadow Association, which opened the center. “It was the first time that you could see new and tangible things that pulled into town.”

The nonprofit is also behind the town’s latest construction project: a place where families together can heal from addiction. The plan is to build an entire campus in town that provides mental health resources, housing for kids whose parents need treatment elsewhere, and housing for families working to live without drugs and alcohol.

Though the project is years away from completion, locals often stop by to watch the progress.

“There is a ground-level swell of hope that’s starting to come up around your ankles,” Doyle said.

Two of the builders on that project are Lonny and Teyon Fritzler. They see the work as a chance to help rebuild their community within the Apsáalooke Nation, also known as the Crow Tribe.

“When I got into construction work, I actually thought God was punishing me,” Lonny said. “But now, coming back, building these walls, I’m like, ‘Wow. This is ours now.’”

Meth ‘Never Left’

Meth use is a throughout the U.S. and a growing contributor to the nation’s . The drug had been devastating in Indian Country, that encompasses tribal jurisdictions and certain areas with Native American populations.

Native Americans face the in the U.S. compared with any other demographic group.

“Meth has never left our communities,” said A.C. Locklear, CEO of the , a nonprofit that works to improve health in Indian Country.

Many reservations are in rural areas, which have of meth use compared with cities. As a group, Native Americans face high rates of poverty, chronic disease, and mental illness — all are . These conditions are rooted in , a byproduct of colonization. Meanwhile, the Indian Health Service, which provides health care to Native Americans, has been chronically underfunded. Cutbacks under the Trump administration have shrunk health programs nationwide.

LeeAnn Bruised Head, a recently retired public health adviser with the U.S. Public Health Service Commissioned Corps, said that despite the challenges, tribal nations have developed strong survival skills drawing from their traditions. For example, Crow people have held onto their nation’s language; neighbors are often family, or considered such; and many tribal members rely on their clans to mentor children, who eventually become mentors themselves for the next generation.

“The strength here, the support here,” said Bruised Head, who is part of the Crow Tribe. “You can’t get that anywhere else.”

Signs of Rebuilding

On a fall day, Quincy Dabney greeted people arriving for lunch at the Lodge Grass drop-in center. The center recently opened in a former church as a place where people can come for help to stay sober or for a free meal. Dabney volunteers at the center. He’s also the town’s mayor.

Dabney helped organize community cleanup days starting in 2017, during which people picked up trash in yards and alongside roads. The focus eventually shifted to tearing down empty, condemned houses, which Dabney said had become spots to sell, distribute, and use meth, often during the day as children played nearby.

“There was nothing stopping it here,” Dabney said.

The problem hasn’t disappeared, though. In 2024, officials broke up a multistate based on the Crow reservation that distributed drugs to other Montana reservations. It was one example of how drug traffickers as sales and distribution hubs.

A few blocks from where Dabney spoke stood the remains of a stone building where someone had spray-painted “Stop Meth” on its roofless walls. Still, there are signs of change, he said.

Dabney pointed across the street to a field where a trailer had sat empty for years before the town removed it. The town was halfway through tearing down another home in disrepair on the next block. Another house on the same street was being cleaned up for an incoming renter: a new mental health worker at the drop-in center.

Just down the road, work was underway on the new campus for addiction recovery, called Kaala’s Village. Kaala means “grandmother” in Crow.

The site’s first building going up is a therapeutic foster home. Plans include housing to gradually reunite families, a community garden, and a place to hold ceremonies. Doyle said the goal is that, eventually, residents can help build their own small homes, working with experienced builders trained to provide mental health support.

She said one of the most important aspects of this work “is that we finish it.”

Tribal citizens and organizations have said the political chaos of Trump’s first year back in office shows the problem with relying on federal programs. It underscores the need for more grassroots efforts, like what’s unfolding in Lodge Grass. But a reliable system to fund those efforts still doesn’t exist. Last year’s federal grant and program cuts also fueled competition for philanthropic dollars.

Kaala’s Village is expected to cost $5 million. The association is building in phases as money comes in. Doyle said the group hopes to open the foster home by spring, and family housing the following year.

The site is a few minutes’ drive from Lonny and Teyon’s childhood home. In addition to building the new facility’s walls, they’re getting training to offer mental health support. Eventually, they hope to work alongside people who come home to Kaala’s Village.

As for their own home, they hope to restore it — one room at a time.

“Just piece by piece,” Lonny said. “We’ve got to do something. We’ve got these young ones watching.”

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The April wind was chilly at one of the tribes’ highest vistas in remote southeastern Idaho.

“Our goal is to bring fiber out here,” Goli said, sweeping one hand across the horizon. The landscape below is scattered with homes, bordered in the east by snowcapped mountain peaks and to the west by “The Bottoms,” where tribal bison graze along the Snake River.

In between, on any given day, a cancer patient drives to the reservation’s casino to call doctors. A young mother asks one child not to play video games so another can do homework. Tribal field nurses update charts in paper notebooks at patients’ homes, then drive back to the clinic to pull up records, send orders, or check prescriptions.

Three years ago, the Shoshone-Bannock Tribes were awarded more than $22 million during the first round of the federal Tribal Broadband Connectivity Program. But tribes that were awarded millions in a second round of funding saw their payments held up under the Trump administration. Last month, federal leaders to tribal broadband programs as part of a larger effort to “reduce red tape.” The National Telecommunications and Information Administration said it plans to “promote flexibility” and launch a new grant in the spring.

Federal regulators declined to provide details. The announcement comes after a year of upheaval for federal broadband programs, including the elimination of Digital Equity Act funding, which President Donald Trump has called “racist,” and a restructured $42 billion Broadband, Equity, Access, and Deployment program, which U.S. Commerce Secretary Howard Lutnick said was influenced by “.”

Across Indian Country and on the Fort Hall Reservation, high-speed despite billions set aside for tribes. In early November, U.S. Sens. Maria Cantwell (D-Wash.) and Brian Schatz (D-Hawaii) why funds already awarded had not been released to tribes and whether federal regulators were providing adequate technical assistance.

So far, the $3 billion tribal program has announced $2.24 billion in awards for 275 projects nationwide. But tribes that won awards have drawn down only about $500 million, according to a from the Commerce Department’s Office of Inspector General.

The agency on the broadband programs, offering tribal leaders two dates in January for online meetings.

The Shoshone-Bannock Tribes have drawn down less than 2% of their awarded funding and the program has not yet connected a single household, Goli said. NTIA spokesperson Stephen Yusko said the Shoshone-Bannock Tribes are still slated to get their full grant award and, he confirmed, future spending will not be subject to the administration’s recalibrations.

Gaps in high-speed internet can be profound and urgent on tribal lands. Tribal members are historically underserved and, on average, live with the highest rates of chronic illnesses and die than the average U.S. resident.

Diabetes and high suicide rates are among the most pernicious tribal health challenges — and federal research confirms telehealth . A Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News analysis showed that people tend to live sicker and die younger in America when they live in dead zones, or places where poor internet access intersects with shortages of health care providers, leaving patients who need it most unable to use telehealth.

“We’re in survival mode,” said Nancy Eschief Murillo, a longtime Shoshone-Bannock leader. The tribes, which have an on-site clinic, need more health care both in person and with telehealth, she said. “Right now, our reservation? We don’t have accessibility.”

‘Not 100% Accurate’

Inside a trailer that serves as the temporary headquarters for Fort Hall’s tribal broadband office, Goli sat at a desk in June and scanned the Federal Communications Commission’s most recent online map of the reservation.

As the tribes’ broadband project manager, Goli didn’t like what she saw on the map. Blue hexagons highlighted varying rates of high-speed coverage and signified that high-speed internet is available on much of the reservation. Companies have told federal regulators they provide fast transmission speeds to homes there.

“These are untrue,” Goli said. Fort Hall has about 2,400 households, and nearly all of them live without high-speed internet, she said.

When it comes to tracking who on a reservation has high-speed internet, “everybody acknowledges, including the FCC, that the map is not 100% accurate,” said Robert Griffin, co-chair of the Fiber Broadband Association Tribal Committee, an industry trade group. He is also the broadband director for the Choctaw Nation of Oklahoma.

Attempting to correct the maps is one of the many tasks Goli has taken on since becoming the Shoshone-Bannock Tribes’ broadband project manager in January 2023 — seven months after the tribes won the award.

A series of hurdles, including flaws in the plan initially approved by the federal government and a cyberattack, have delayed the project, she said. The attack hit in August 2024 and for months shut down nearly all phones and computers on the reservation.

“We didn’t have access to any of our information,” Goli told Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News this month, adding that the tribes are still “in recovery mode” from the attack.

Goli, who grew up on the reservation and still plays basketball at the tribal gym, left her job as a data analyst in Seattle to return home to be with family and to work. For two years, and with no broadband industry experience, Goli has overseen the multimillion-dollar grant without a staff.

Her first task, she said, was to collect data that could help create a realistic plan to deliver broadband to every home on the reservation. “Data tells a story,” Goli said.

Fort Hall and many other tribal lands are remote with rugged, expansive terrain. To build fiber-optic cables underground, the tribes must navigate lava rock and work with the Bureau of Indian Affairs to get permits. To build communications towers, the tribes must ensure they follow migratory bird rules for American bald eagles. To provide wireless connections, the tribes must buy or license spectrum from federal regulators, Goli said.

When the federal tribal broadband program launched, more than asked for more than $2.6 billion, even though only $980 million was available. There are 574 federally recognized tribes in the United States.

The tribal program funding was not enough to “build out Indian Country,” said Joe Valandra, chief executive and chairman of the broadband consulting firm Tribal Ready. Valandra is a member of the Rosebud Sioux Tribe of South Dakota.

Congress created the tribal program to be used in combination with funds from the larger $42 billion Broadband, Equity, Access, and Deployment, or BEAD, program, Valandra said.

But now, it seems “the administration has no appetite for expensive broadband infrastructure builds in rural areas,” said Jessica Auer, a senior researcher with the community broadband networks team at the Institute for Local Self-Reliance, a research and advocacy nonprofit.

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Federally recognized tribes can’t directly apply for a share of the rural health fund — only states can. And states aren’t required to consider tribes’ needs. But state applications for the five-year payout show some states with significant Native American populations did so anyway.

Workforce development, technology upgrades, and traditional healing are a few of the initiatives specifically aimed at Native American communities that some states included in their applications, which were due to the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services on Nov. 5. The fund was a late addition to the One Big Beautiful Bill Act in response to worries about the harm the spending reductions in Republicans’ bill would have on rural hospitals’ finances.

Some states, , Nevada, , are also considering setting aside 3% to 10% of their federal payouts to distribute among tribes. Washington proposed setting aside $20 million per year.

Federally recognized tribes have direct relationships with the U.S. government, but state governments also allocate resources to tribes and can create policies that support tribal priorities. States and tribes share concerns about the effect that the massive GOP budget bill, which President Donald Trump signed into law in July, will have on the U.S. health system. The law is expected to reduce federal Medicaid spending by nearly $1 trillion and increase the number of uninsured by , according to KFF, a health information nonprofit that includes Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News.

Catherine Howden, a CMS spokesperson, said that states are required to develop their applications in collaboration with key stakeholders, including the state governments’ tribal affairs offices or tribal liaisons, as well as “Indian health care providers, as applicable.” But these entities do not include tribal governments or official tribal representatives.

Tribes can apply for Rural Health Transformation Fund subgrants through their states. But during a recent call with federal health officials, tribal leaders expressed frustration about being regarded as just another stakeholder in the issue rather than sovereign nations. Tribal sovereignty guides most government-to-government consultations over proposed federal actions that would have a substantial effect on tribes.

“Even in a scenario where tribal consultation is required, the quality and quantity of that tribal consultation on a state-by-state basis is all over the place,” said Liz Malerba, director of policy and legislative affairs for the United South and Eastern Tribes Sovereignty Protection Fund, which advocates for tribal nations from Texas to Maine. Malerba is a citizen of the Mohegan Tribe.

Federal policy works better when tribal nations are directly eligible for funding that supports essential services in their communities, Malerba said, adding that tribal leaders are concerned that the reach of the program into their communities will vary considerably.

There are and Native American and Alaska Native people in the U.S. The population faces a lower life expectancy and when compared with other demographics. The Indian Health Service, the federal agency responsible for providing health care to Native Americans and Alaska Natives, has been by Congress.

Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News analyzed how 12 states with significant Native American populations took tribes into account as they developed plans for the pot of federal money.

, , , and were among the states that held tribal consultations or listening sessions ahead of the Nov. 5 application deadline.

In states that did not initiate input from tribes, some Native American leaders made sure their voices were heard in other public hearings. Jerilyn Church, CEO of the Great Plains Tribal Leaders’ Health Board, said she attended an October public meeting in South Dakota because she felt it was important for state leaders to consider how they could use the program’s resources on reservations. There are nine federally recognized tribes in the state, and Native American people make up 9% of the population.

“I felt like we needed to help be that advocate,” said Church, a citizen of the Cheyenne River Sioux Tribe.

In the proposed initiatives included in its rural fund application, South Dakota such as improved telehealth and funding for doula programs. It also said the state will continue meeting with the Great Plains tribal health board throughout the five-year funding cycle.

In Oklahoma — where more than 14% of the population is Native American, a higher share than in most other states — tribal representatives were invited to weigh in with the rest of the public when the state was gathering information for its application, the details of which have not been publicly released.

“We’ve welcomed input from any Oklahoman,” said state health department spokesperson Erica Rankin-Riley.

North Dakota in the Rural Health Transformation Program and included initiatives such as expanding physician residency slots with tribal-specific rotations and opportunities for farm-to-table food distributions. But that would have pledged 5% of its federal allotment to tribes. There are five federally recognized tribes in the state, and Native Americans make up nearly 5% of the population.

Some states did include proposals to fund high-priority initiatives for tribes.

for the rural fund included an initiative focused on improving health among Native American communities. Its goals include investing in workforce development for tribes, better care coordination between tribes and rural hospitals, and $2.4 million annually to support Washington State University’s rural health education programs, including its Indigenous health program.

included integrating Indigenous traditional healing in Alaska Native village clinics. It would include offering traditional-healing house calls, hands-on training for healers, and traditional-medicine training for health care providers and staff, according to the application.

One of would support the state’s nine federally recognized tribes in improving health outcomes. The state estimates the initiative would require $20 million per year, or 10% of the Rural Health Transformation Program award.

Whether or not states identified funding for tribes or included tribal priorities in their proposals, tribes will be eligible to apply to their states for subgrants of the Rural Health Transformation Program money. While larger tribes that have more resources, such as grant writers and staff to implement programs, could benefit, smaller tribes may struggle to produce competitive applications.

Church said that the Great Plains Tribal Leaders’ Health Board will know the fruits of its labor when states are notified of their rural health fund allotments by the end of the year.

“Hopefully the work that we did, the advocacy that we did, and the outreach,” Church said, “will result in resources getting to our tribes.”

Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News South Dakota correspondent Arielle Zionts contributed to this report.

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Una de sus pacientes tenía 17 años cuando la examinó por dolor estomacal. McMahon descubrió que había desarrollado cáncer de hígado causado por hepatitis B, apenas unas semanas antes de graduarse de la secundaria como la mejor estudiante.

Murió antes de la ceremonia.

McMahon también recuerda a un niño de 8 años que no mostraba signos de enfermedad hasta que se quejó de dolor: resultó ser un tumor de rápido crecimiento en el hígado. Aún puede escuchar su voz.

“Gemía de dolor diciendo: ‘Sé que voy a morir pronto’”, recordó. “Todos estábamos llorando”. El niño murió en casa una semana después.

El virus de la hepatitis B se transmite a través de la sangre y otros fluidos corporales, incluso en cantidades microscópicas, y puede sobrevivir en superficies durante una semana. Como muchos de sus pacientes, McMahon explicó que ambos niños contrajeron hepatitis B al nacer o en la infancia temprana.

Ese desenlace hoy se puede prevenir.

Una dosis de la vacuna al nacer, recomendada para recién nacidos desde 1991, es hasta para prevenir la infección transmitida por la madre si se administra en las primeras 24 horas de vida. Si los bebés reciben las tres dosis, el contra este virus incurable, con una protección que .

En las comunidades del oeste de Alaska, años de pruebas dirigidas y campañas amplias de vacunación lograron que los casos .

“El cáncer de hígado ha desaparecido en los niños”, dijo McMahon. “No hemos visto un solo caso desde 1995. Tampoco tenemos, que sepamos, nadie menor de 30 años que se haya infectado”.

Le preocupa que estos avances obtenidos con mucho esfuerzo puedan retroceder.

¿Retrasar la dosis?

Un comité asesor sobre vacunas de los Centros para el Control y  Prevención de Enfermedades (CDC, por su siglas en inglés), nombrado por el secretario de Salud y Servicios Humanos Robert F. Kennedy Jr., tiene previsto discutir y votar el 4 de diciembre si se mantiene la recomendación de administrar la dosis de hepatitis B al nacer.

La medida podría limitar el acceso de los niños a la vacuna.

En el podcast de Tucker Carlson en junio, Kennedy afirmó falsamente que la dosis de hepatitis B al nacer es una “causa probable” de autismo.

También dijo que el virus de la hepatitis B no es “casualmente contagioso”. Pero demuestran que el virus puede transmitirse por contacto indirecto, cuando restos de fluidos infectados, como la sangre, entran al cuerpo al compartir objetos personales como rasuradoras o cepillos de dientes.

Las recomendaciones de este comité tienen gran influencia. La mayoría de los seguros privados están obligados a cubrir las vacunas que el Comité Asesor sobre Prácticas de Inmunización (ACIP, por sus siglas en inglés) aprueba, y muchas políticas estatales de vacunación se basan directamente en esas guías.

Pero ni el ACIP ni los CDC tienen funciones regulatorias: no pueden imponer vacunas obligatorias. Esa responsabilidad . Sin embargo, mantener la recomendación de administrar la vacuna al nacer permite que las familias tengan la mayor cantidad de opciones: pueden elegir vacunar desde el nacimiento, esperar hasta más adelante o no vacunar. Y el seguro continuará cubriendo el costo de la vacuna mientras siga estando aprobada por la Administración de Alimentos y Medicamentos (FDA, por sus siglas en inglés).

Dos altos funcionarios de la FDA —el comisionado Marty Makary y el principal regulador de vacunas Vinay Prasad— sugirieron a finales de noviembre que podrían en el proceso de aprobación de vacunas. Todas las vacunas deben estar aprobadas por la FDA para ser administradas en Estados Unidos.

En obtenidos por y , Prasad cuestionó la práctica rutinaria de “aplicar múltiples vacunas al mismo tiempo”.

No está claro si se refería a las vacunas combinadas, que protegen contra varias enfermedades en una sola dosis. Tres de las nueve vacunas contra la hepatitis B actualmente aprobadas por la FDA son combinadas. Sin embargo, la se aplica solamente como una vacuna individual.

“Sembrando desconfianza”

Aunque los seguros privados continúen cubriendo esta vacuna, la desinformación que surja de esa reunión podría llevar a que algunas familias crean erróneamente que puede hacerle daño a sus bebés, advirtió , presidente del Comité de Enfermedades Infecciosas de la Academia Americana de Pediatría (American Academy of Pediatrics) y profesor asistente en la Escuela de Medicina de la Universidad de Colorado.

“Lo que salga de este desastre de reunión en diciembre estará principalmente diseñado para sembrar desconfianza y esparcir miedo”, expresó.

El presidente Donald Trump, Kennedy y algunos de los nuevos miembros del ACIP han distorsionado cómo se transmite esta enfermedad hepática, ignorando o minimizando el riesgo del contagio indirecto.

El virus de la hepatitis B es . Las personas no vacunadas, incluidos los niños, pueden infectarse con cantidades microscópicas de sangre en una mesa o un juguete, incluso si la persona infectada no presenta síntomas.

McMahon ha atendido a niños que dieron negativo al nacer y luego se infectaron por contacto indirecto. En de la década de 1970, casi un tercio de esos niños desarrolló hepatitis B crónica sin mostrar síntomas, explicó.

“Es un virus muy contagioso”, dijo McMahon. “Por eso dar la dosis al nacer a todos es la mejor manera de prevenirlo”.

Los CDC recomiendan que todas las personas embarazadas se hagan la prueba de hepatitis B, pero estiman que hasta un 16% no se la realiza y queda fuera de los registros. O’Leary y otros expertos dicen que hacer pruebas justo antes o después del parto no es factible, ya que la mayoría de los hospitales no tiene el personal ni los recursos suficientes.

La vacuna de tres dosis tiene . Numerosos estudios demuestran que no está asociada con un mayor riesgo de , , ni . Las reacciones graves son poco comunes.

“Tenemos un perfil de seguridad excelente”, dijo O’Leary. “Nadie espera chocar en auto, ¿cierto? Pero igual todos usamos el cinturón de seguridad. Esto es similar”.

Los CDC estiman que 2,4 millones de personas en el país tienen hepatitis B, y que . La enfermedad puede ir desde una infección aguda hasta una crónica, . Si no se trata, puede provocar cirrosis, insuficiencia hepática y cáncer de hígado. No tiene cura.

Recomendación para padres: hablar con su doctor

, profesor de medicina preventiva en la Escuela de Medicina de la Universidad de Vanderbilt y ex miembro con voto del ACIP, dijo que algunos padres tienen dificultad para entender por qué un recién nacido sano necesita una vacuna tan pronto, especialmente contra un virus que están convencidos de no tener y que a menudo asocian solo con conductas de riesgo. Esa percepción, señaló, se mezcla con la creciente desconfianza en la salud pública y el escepticismo hacia las vacunas.

Su consejo para futuros padres que están indecisos es hablar con su médico sobre las vacunas. Incluso si la embarazada dio negativo en la prueba, dijo, sigue siendo importante administrar la dosis al nacer, ya que pueden ocurrir falsos negativos y el virus se puede propagar fácilmente a través del contacto con superficies.

Los bebés que reciben la serie completa de vacunas desde el nacimiento tienen de desarrollar cáncer de hígado.

“Si uno espera un mes y la madre resulta ser positiva, o el bebé se contagia de un cuidador, para entonces la infección ya está establecida en el hígado del bebé”, explicó Schaffner. “Ya es demasiado tarde para prevenirla”.

Agregó que, si menos personas se vacunan, la hepatitis B circulará más en las comunidades estadounidenses y el riesgo de infección aumentará para quienes no se vacunen.

Y más casos de hepatitis B también podrían significar mayores costos tanto para los pacientes como para el sistema de salud.

Los CDC calculan que tratar a una persona con una forma menos grave de la enfermedad cuesta entre $25.000 y $94.000 al año. Para quienes necesitan un trasplante de hígado, los gastos médicos anuales pueden superar los $320.000, dependiendo del tratamiento.

Durante los últimos 30 años, los que han reportado los padres tras la aplicación de la dosis al nacer han sido llanto e irritabilidad, síntomas que desaparecen rápidamente. Schaffner dijo que eso demuestra un perfil de seguridad muy sólido para una vacuna en recién nacidos que protege contra una enfermedad incurable.

“Los datos son clarísimos sobre esto”, agregó. “Ahora hay toda una serie de países que han iniciado este programa. Lo han tomado como modelo del nuestro”.

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Working out of a in Anchorage, Alaska, liver specialist Brian McMahon has spent decades treating the long shadow of hepatitis B. Before a vaccine became available in the 1980s, he saw the virus claim young lives in western Alaskan communities with stunning speed.

One of his patients was 17 years old when he first examined her for stomach pain. McMahon discovered she had developed liver cancer caused by hepatitis B, just weeks before she was set to graduate from high school as valedictorian. She died before the ceremony.

McMahon thinks often of an 8-year-old boy who showed no signs of illness until he complained of pain from what turned out to be a rapidly growing tumor on his liver.

McMahon can still hear his voice.

“He was moaning in pain, saying, ‘I know I am going to die soon,’” he recalled. “We were all crying.” The boy died at home a week later.

The hepatitis B virus is transmitted through blood and bodily fluids, even in microscopic amounts, and the virus can survive on surfaces for a week. Like many of his patients, McMahon said, both children contracted hepatitis B at birth or in early childhood.

That outcome is now preventable. A birth dose of the vaccine, recommended for newborns since 1991, is up to in preventing infection from the mother if given in the first 24 hours of life. If babies receive all three doses, have immunity from the incurable virus, with the protection lasting at least .

In the communities of western Alaska, years of targeted testing and widespread vaccination efforts led to .

“Liver cancer has disappeared in children,” McMahon said. “We haven’t seen a case since 1995. Nor do we have any children under 30 that have gotten infected that we know of.”

He worries those hard-won gains could soon be rolled back.

Pushing Back the Dose?

A Centers for Disease Control and Prevention vaccine advisory panel appointed by Health and Human Services Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. is scheduled the hepatitis B birth dose recommendation during its two-day meeting starting Dec. 4, potentially limiting children’s access.

On Tucker Carlson’s podcast in June, Kennedy falsely claimed that the hepatitis B birth dose is a “likely culprit” of autism.

He also said the hepatitis B virus is not “casually contagious.” But shows the virus can be transmitted through indirect contact, when traces of infected fluids like blood enter the body when people share personal items like razors or toothbrushes.

The committee’s recommendations carry weight. Most private insurers must cover the vaccines the Advisory Committee on Immunization Practices endorses, and many state vaccination policies are directly linked to its guidelines.

Neither ACIP nor the CDC is regulatory. They cannot mandate immunizations. It’s to do that. But keeping the recommendation for a hepatitis B vaccine at birth preserves the widest range of options for families. They can choose to vaccinate at birth, wait until later in childhood, or not vaccinate at all, and insurance will continue to cover the cost of the shot as long as it remains approved by the Food and Drug Administration.

Two senior FDA officials — Commissioner Marty Makary and top vaccine regulator Vinay Prasad — suggested at the end of November that the vaccine approval process may be coming. Vaccines must be approved by the FDA to be administered in the United States.

In obtained by and , Prasad questioned the routine practice of “giving multiple vaccines at the same time.” It’s not clear whether he was referring to combination vaccines that offer immunity against multiple diseases with a single shot. Three of the nine hepatitis B vaccines currently approved by the FDA are combination vaccines. The of the hepatitis B vaccine is given only as a stand-alone vaccine.

Contacted for comment, Health and Human Services spokesperson Emily Hilliard said in a statement that “ACIP will review the evidence at its meeting this week and issue recommendations based on gold standard, evidence-based science and common sense.”

‘Sowing Distrust’

If private insurers opt to still cover the shot, misinformation from the meeting still could lead families to falsely believe the vaccine could harm their babies, said , chair of the Committee on Infectious Diseases for the American Academy of Pediatrics and an assistant professor of pediatrics at the University of Colorado School of Medicine.

“Whatever comes out of this disaster of a meeting in December is going to be mainly designed around sowing distrust and spreading fear,” he said.

President Donald Trump, Kennedy, and some newly appointed ACIP members have mischaracterized how the liver disease spreads, ignoring or downplaying the risk of transmission through indirect contact. The hepatitis B virus is than HIV. Unvaccinated people, including children, can get infected from microscopic amounts of blood on a tabletop or toy, even when the infected person is asymptomatic.

McMahon has cared for children who tested negative at birth and later became infected through indirect contact. In a , nearly a third of such children went on to develop chronic hepatitis B without ever showing symptoms, he said.

“It’s a very infectious virus,” McMahon said. “That’s why giving everybody the birth dose is the best way to prevent it.”

The CDC recommends that all pregnant people be screened for hepatitis B, but it estimates that up to 16% are not tested and fall through the cracks. O’Leary and other experts say testing mothers for the virus shortly before or after delivery is unfeasible, because most hospitals lack the staff and resources.

The three-dose vaccine has a of safety. Numerous studies show it is not associated with an increased risk of , , , or , and severe reactions are rare.

“We have an incredible safety profile,” O’Leary said. “No one expects to get in a car wreck, right? And yet we all put our seat belts on. This is similar.”

The CDC estimates that 2.4 million people in the U.S. have hepatitis B and that half they are infected. The disease can range from an acute infection to a chronic one, often with . If the disease is left untreated, it can lead to serious conditions such as cirrhosis, liver failure, and liver cancer. There is no cure.

Expert’s Advice to Parents: Talk to a Doctor

, a professor of preventative medicine at the Vanderbilt University School of Medicine and a former voting member of ACIP, said some parents struggle to understand why a healthy newborn needs a vaccine so soon after birth, especially for a virus they feel certain they don’t have and often wrongly associate only with risky behaviors. Those perceptions, he said, mix with declining trust in public health and rising skepticism about vaccines.

His advice to expectant parents who are on the fence is to talk to their doctor about the shots. Even if the pregnant woman has tested negative, he said, it’s still important to give the baby the birth dose, because false negatives are possible and because the virus can spread so easily from surface contact. Babies who receive the full vaccine series starting from birth have their chance of .

“If you wait a month and if the mom happens to be positive, or the baby picks it up from a caregiver, by that time the infection is established in that baby’s liver,” Schaffner said. “It’s too late to prevent that infection.”

He said that if fewer people get vaccinated, hepatitis B will circulate at higher rates in American communities and the risk of contracting the virus will rise for everyone who doesn’t get the shots.

And more hepatitis B cases could mean higher costs for patients and the broader health care system. The CDC estimates treating someone with a less severe form of the disease costs $25,000 to $94,000 per year. For patients who require a liver transplant, annual medical expenses can climb above $320,000, depending on their treatment.

Over the past 30 years, the parents have reported from their babies receiving the birth dose have been fussiness and crying, both of which pass quickly. Schaffner said that’s a very strong safety profile — for a newborn vaccine with a track record of protecting babies from an incurable disease.

“The data are so clear about this,” Schaffner said. “A whole array now of other countries have initiated this program. They’ve modeled it on us.”

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Wieder is a member of the Confederated Salish and Kootenai Tribes in Montana and can access some health services free of charge through her tribe’s health clinics. But funding is limited, so, like a lot of Native American people, she relied on Medicaid for herself and Oakleigh.

Months before Oakleigh’s 1st birthday, the date when Wieder’s postpartum coverage would come to an end, Wieder completed and returned paperwork to enroll her daughter in Healthy Montana Kids, the state’s version of the Children’s Health Insurance Program. But her paperwork, caught up in the lengthy delays and processing times for applications, did not go through.

“As soon as she turned 1, they cut her off completely,” Wieder said.

It took six months for Wieder to get Oakleigh covered again through Healthy Montana Kids. Before health workers in her tribe stepped in to help her resubmit her application, Wieder repeatedly called the state’s health department. She said she would dial the call center when she arrived at her job in the morning and go about her work while waiting on hold, only for the call to be dropped by the end of the day.

“Never did I talk to anybody,” she said.

Wieder and Oakleigh’s experience is an example of the chaos for eligible Medicaid beneficiaries caused by the process known as the “unwinding,” which led to millions of people in the U.S. losing coverage due to paperwork or other procedural issues. Now, tribal health leaders fear their communities will experience more health coverage disruptions when new federal Medicaid work and eligibility requirements are implemented by the start of 2027.

The tax-and-spending law that President Donald Trump signed this summer exempts Native Americans from the new requirement that some people work or do another qualifying activity a minimum number of hours each month to be eligible for Medicaid, as well as from more frequent eligibility checks. But as Wieder and her daughter’s experience shows, they are not exempt from getting caught up in procedural disenrollments that could reemerge as states implement the new rules.

“We also know from the unwinding that that just doesn’t always play out necessarily correctly in practice,” said Joan Alker, who leads Georgetown University’s Center for Children and Families. “There’s a lot to worry about.”

The new law is projected to increase the number of people who are uninsured .

The lessons of the unwinding suggest that “deep trouble” lies ahead for Native Americans who rely on Medicaid, according to Alker.

Changes to Medicaid

Trump’s new law changes Medicaid rules to require some recipients ages 19 to 64 to log 80 hours of work or other qualifying activities per month. It also requires states to recheck those recipients’ eligibility every six months, instead of annually. Both of these changes will be effective by the .

The Congressional Budget Office that the law would reduce federal Medicaid spending by more than $900 billion over a decade. In addition, more than 4 million people enrolled in health plans through the Affordable Care Act marketplace are projected to become uninsured if Congress allows pandemic-era enhanced premium tax credits to expire at the end of the year.

Wieder said she was lucky that the tribe covered costs and her daughter’s care wasn’t interrupted in the six months she didn’t have health insurance. Citizens of federally recognized tribes in the U.S. can access some free health services through the Indian Health Service, the federal agency responsible for providing health care to Native Americans and Alaska Natives.

But free care is limited because Congress has historically failed to fully fund the Indian Health Service. Tribal health systems rely heavily on Medicaid to fill that gap. Native Americans are enrolled in Medicaid than the white population and have higher rates of chronic illnesses, die more from preventable diseases, and have less access to care.

Medicaid is to the Indian Health Service and other tribal health facilities and organizations. Accounting for about two-thirds of the outside revenue the Indian Health Service collects, it helps tribal health organizations pay their staff, maintain or expand services, and build infrastructure. Tribal leaders say protecting Medicaid for Indian Country is a responsibility Congress and the federal government must fulfill as part of their trust and treaty obligations to tribes.

Lessons Learned During the Unwinding

The Trump administration prevented states from disenrolling most Medicaid recipients for the duration of the public health emergency starting in 2020. After those eligibility checks resumed in 2023, nearly 27 million people nationwide were disenrolled from Medicaid during the unwinding, according to by the Government Accountability Office published in June. The majority of disenrollments — about 70% — occurred for procedural reasons, according to the federal Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services.

CMS did not require state agencies to collect race and ethnicity data for their reporting during the unwinding, making it difficult to determine how many Native American and Alaska Native enrollees lost coverage.

The lack of data to show how the unwinding affected the population makes it difficult to identify disparities and create policies to address them, said Latoya Hill, senior policy manager with KFF’s Racial Equity and Health Policy program. KFF is a health information nonprofit that includes Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News.

The National Council of Urban Indian Health, which advocates on public health issues for Native Americans living in urban parts of the nation, analyzed the Census Bureau’s 2022 American Community Survey and KFF data in an effort to understand how disenrollment affected tribes. The council estimated had lost coverage as of May 2024. About 2.7 million Native Americans and Alaska Natives were enrolled in Medicaid in 2022, according to the council.

The National Indian Health Board, a nonprofit that represents and advocates for federally recognized tribes, has been working with federal Medicaid officials to ensure that state agencies are prepared to implement the exemptions.

“We learned a lot of lessons about state capacity during the unwinding,” said Winn Davis, congressional relations director for the National Indian Health Board.

Nevada health officials say they plan to apply lessons learned during the unwinding and launch a public education campaign on the Medicaid changes in the new federal law. “A lot of this will depend on anticipated federal guidance regarding the implementation of those new rules,” said Stacie Weeks, director of the Nevada Health Authority.

Staff at the Fallon Tribal Health Center in Nevada have become authorized representatives for some of their patients. This means that tribal citizens’ Medicaid paperwork is sent to the health center, allowing staff to notify individuals and help them fill it out.

Davis said the unwinding process showed that Native American enrollees are uniquely vulnerable to procedural disenrollment. The new law’s exemption of Native Americans from work requirements and more frequent eligibility checks is the “bare minimum” to ensure unnecessary disenrollments are avoided as part of trust and treaty obligations, Davis said.

Eligibility Checks Are ‘Complex’ and ‘Vulnerable to Error’

The GAO said the process of determining whether individuals are eligible for Medicaid is “complex” and “vulnerable to error” in a .

“The resumption of Medicaid eligibility redeterminations on such a large scale further compounded this complexity,” the report said.

It highlighted weaknesses across state systems. By April 2024, federal Medicaid officials had found nearly all states were out of compliance with redetermination requirements, according to the GAO. Eligible people lost their coverage, the accountability office said, highlighting the need to improve federal oversight.

In Texas, for example, federal Medicaid officials found that 100,000 eligible people had been disenrolled due to, for example, the state system’s failure to process their completed renewal forms or miscalculation of the length of women’s postpartum coverage.

Some states were not conducting ex parte renewals, in which a person’s Medicaid coverage is automatically renewed based on existing information available to the state. That reduces the chance that paperwork is sent to the wrong address, because the recipient doesn’t need to complete or return renewal forms.

But poorly conducted ex parte renewals can lead to procedural disenrollments, too. in Nevada were disenrolled by September 2023 through the ex parte process. The state had been conducting the ex parte renewals at the household level, rather than by individual beneficiary, resulting in the disenrollment of still-eligible children because their parents were no longer eligible. in the state were for procedural reasons — the highest in the nation, according to KFF.

Another issue the federal agency identified was that some state agencies were not giving enrollees the opportunity to submit their renewal paperwork through all means available, including mail, phone, online, and in person.

State agencies also identified challenges they faced during the unwinding, including an unprecedented volume of eligibility redeterminations, insufficient staffing and training, and a lack of response from enrollees who may not have been aware of the unwinding.

Native Americans and Alaska Natives have unique challenges in maintaining their coverage.

Communities in rural parts of the nation experience issues with receiving and sending mail. Some Native Americans on reservations . Others may not have permanent housing or change addresses frequently. In Alaska, mail service is often disrupted by severe weather. Another issue is the lack of reliable internet service on remote reservations.

Tribal health leaders and patient benefit coordinators said some tribal citizens did not receive their redetermination paperwork or struggled to fill it out and send it back to their state Medicaid agency.

The Aftermath

Although the unwinding is over, many challenges persist.

Tribal health workers in Montana, Oklahoma, and South Dakota said some eligible patients who lost Medicaid during the unwinding had still not been reenrolled as of this spring.

“Even today, we’re still in the trenches of getting individuals that had been disenrolled back onto Medicaid,” said Rachel Arthur, executive director of the Indian Family Health Clinic in Great Falls, Montana, in May.

Arthur said staff at the clinic realized early in the unwinding that their patients were not receiving their redetermination notices in the mail. The clinic is identifying people who fell off Medicaid during the unwinding and helping them fill out applications.

Marlena Farnes, who was a patient benefit coordinator at the Indian Family Health Clinic during the Medicaid unwinding, said she tried for months to help an older patient with a chronic health condition get back on Medicaid. He had completed and returned his paperwork but still received a notice that his coverage had lapsed. After many calls to the state Medicaid office, Farnes said, state officials told her the patient’s application had been lost.

Another patient went to the emergency room multiple times while uninsured, Arthur said.

“I felt like if our patients weren’t helped with follow-up, and that advocacy piece, their applications were not being seen,” Farnes said. She is now the behavioral health director at the clinic.

Montana was one of five states where more than 50% of enrollees lost coverage during the unwinding, . The other states are Idaho, Oklahoma, Texas, and Utah. who lost coverage were disenrolled for procedural reasons.

In Oklahoma, eligibility redeterminations remain challenging to process, said Yvonne Myers, a Medicaid and Affordable Care Act consultant for Citizen Potawatomi Nation Health Services. That’s causing more frequent coverage lapses, she said.

Myers said she thinks Republican claims of “waste, fraud, and abuse” are overstated.

“I challenge some of them to try to go through an eligibility process,” Myers said. “The way they’re going about it is making it for more hoops to jump through, which ultimately will cause people to fall off.”

The unwinding showed that state systems can struggle to respond quickly to changes in Medicaid, leading to preventable erroneous disenrollments. Individuals were often in the dark about their applications and struggled to reach state offices for answers. Tribal leaders and health experts are raising concerns that those issues will continue and worsen as states implement the requirements of the new law.

Georgia, the only state with an active Medicaid work requirement program, has shown that the changes can be difficult for individuals to navigate and costly for a state to implement. More than 100,000 people have applied for Georgia’s Pathways program, but only as of the end of July.

Alker, of Georgetown, said Congress took the wrong lesson from the unwinding in adding more restrictions and red tape.

“It will make unwinding pale in comparison in terms of the number of folks that are going to lose coverage,” Alker said.

This article was published with the support of the Journalism & Women Symposium (JAWS) Health Journalism Fellowship, assisted by grants from The Commonwealth Fund.

Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues and is one of the core operating programs at KFF—an independent source of health policy research, polling, and journalism. Learn more about .

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“I want people to not kill themselves for who they are,” said organizer Myk Mendez, a trans and two-spirit citizen of the Fort Hall Shoshone-Bannock Tribes in Idaho. “I want people to love their lives and grow old to tell their stories.”

“Two-spirit” is used by Native Americans to describe a distinct gender outside of male or female.

The conference in Elko reflects how some tribal citizens are supporting their LGTBQ+ community members as President Donald Trump rolls back protections and policies. In March, the National Indian Health Board, which represents and advocates for federally recognized Native American and Alaska Native tribes, declaring tribal sovereignty over issues affecting the Native American community’s health, including access to gender-affirming care.

The resolution calls on the federal government to preserve and expand programs that support the health and well-being of two-spirit and LGBTQ+ Native Americans. Tribes and tribal organizations are navigating how to uphold their sovereignty without jeopardizing the relationships and resources that support their communities, said Jessica Leston, the owner of the Raven Collective, a Native public health consulting group, and a member of the Ketchikan Indian Community.

In January, Trump signed an executive order recognizing — male and female — and another to terminate programs within the federal government. describing two-spirit people was removed this year but restored following a court order. The page now has a disclaimer at the top that declares any information on it “promoting gender ideology” is “disconnected from the immutable biological reality that there are two sexes, male and female.”

Two-spirit is not a sexual orientation but refers to people of a “culturally and spiritually distinct gender exclusively recognized by Native American Nations,” according to a definition created by two-spirit elders in 2021. According to two-spirit leaders, people who did not fit into the Western binary of male and female have lived in their communities since before colonization.

Already, tribal citizens and leaders say some people have had trouble accessing gender-affirming care in recent months, with some community members being denied hormone treatments or having their medications delayed, even in places where gender-affirming care remains legal. Panic has spread, and tribal citizens have considered leaving the country.

“There is a chilling effect,” said Itai Jeffries, who is trans, nonbinary, and two-spirit, of the Occaneechi people from North Carolina, and a consultant for the Raven Collective.

Mendez said he requested hormone treatment at his local Indian Health Service clinic at the end of June and was told by his provider that the facility has had trouble receiving the treatment for patients.

Lenny Hayes, a two-spirit citizen of the Sisseton-Wahpeton Oyate in South Dakota, said the Indian Health Service clinic on the reservation also isn’t dispensing hormone treatment, though it is legal for people 18 and older. Hayes is the owner and operator of Tate Topa Consulting and provides educational training on two-spirit and LGTBQ+ Native Americans and Alaska Natives.

The National Congress of American Indians to encourage the creation of policies to protect two-spirit and LGBTQ+ communities. And the organization in 2021 to support providing gender-affirming care in Indian Health Service, tribal, and urban facilities.

The National Indian Health Board’s resolution cites homophobia and transphobia as contributing to higher rates of truancy, incarceration, self-harm, attempted suicide, and suicide among two-spirit young people. The board also lists health disparities among the broader Native LGBTQ+ population, including increased risks of anxiety, depression, and suicide.

Two-spirit and LGBTQ+ Native American and Alaska Native young people are , and sexual exploitation. In Minnesota, found that two-spirit and LGBTQ+ Native American and Alaska Native students had the highest rates of those ages 15-19 who responded “yes” to having traded sex or sexual activity for money, food, drugs, alcohol, or shelter.

Tribal leaders are also concerned that Medicaid cuts recently approved in Trump’s budget law will undercut efforts to expand testing and treatment for HIV infection in Native American communities.

The rates of HIV diagnosis among Native American and Alaska Native gay and bisexual men from 2018 to 2022, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

Despite this increase, Native American and Alaska Native gay and bisexual men are among the groups with the least access to HIV tests outside of health care settings, such as community-based organizations, mobile testing units, and shelters.

As tribes respond to state and federal regulations of two-spirit and LGBTQ+ people, organizations and communities are focused on providing information and resources to protect those in Indian Country, even from the president.

“He will never, ever wipe out our identity, no matter what he does,” Hayes said.

Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues and is one of the core operating programs at KFF—an independent source of health policy research, polling, and journalism. Learn more about .

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This story can be republished for free (details).