Joyce Tinanani Mphande-Finn
December 23, 1960 — December 15, 2025
In the early morning hours of December 23rd, 1960, at the Queen Elizabeth Hospital in Blantyre, Malawi, doctors delivered to Beatrice and Winfred Mphande their second child and first girl. When the doctors placed the newborn in her mother’s arms, uttering the words, “It’s a girl”, the attending nurse in her excitement exclaimed, “Oh, what a joy!” And so it was the child became known as Joyce, Joyce Tinanani Mphande, and never was a name more aptly applied.
For the next 65 years, utterly selfless and without trying, Joyce lived up to her name, spreading joy everywhere she went through the simple act of being herself—her joyful, bountiful self—sharing with everyone she met her light and love, her laughter and smile, until one week shy of her 65th birthday on December 15th, 2025 in the Intensive Care Unit of the University of Utah Hospital, Salt Lake City, with her husband Charles at her side, she departed this earthly realm after a long battle with pulmonary fibrosis. The attending nurse, as he washed her body, fell short of using the word joy, instead saying it was an honor to perform this small kindness. He was told the real kindness came from Joyce and the honor fell to all who knew her and had the chance to stand beside her, no matter how briefly, and receive her light.
Joyce leaves behind her husband Charles, daughter Beatrice, and grandson Ezikiel. In Malawi, Joyce is survived by her older brother Winfred and younger sisters Mabel and Meya. Her sister Diana preceded her in death. Terribly claustrophobic, Joyce requested her body be cremated and half of the ashes be spread in Montana and the other half returned to Malawi. In accordance with her wishes a pair of memorial services will be held, the first at 5:00 pm Sunday, March 8th in Havre at Montana Style Events Center on River Road, and the second at 2:00 pm May 16th at Andy Laue, Rafael Chacon, and Peter Kliminster’s home in Moiese. All who knew and loved Joyce are invited to attend either or both. In lieu of flowers, the family asks that donations be made to the scholarship fund being set up in Joyce’s name at Montana State University-Northern where she concluded her teaching career.
Naturally inspiring, it was always Joyce’s dream to teach, and she was never happier than when in the classroom. She earned degrees in Education from the University of Malawi in Zomba, Malawi; a B.S. in Business Administration from Berea College in Kentucky; a MA in Clinical Mental Health Counseling from the University of Montana in Missoula; and a Doctor of Education in Counselor Education & Supervision from the same. Her passion led her to teach at Oregon State University in Bend, Oregon; Kean University in Elizabeth, New Jersey; City University of Seattle, in Seattle; and ultimately Montana State University-Northern in Havre. At every institution, she was asked to move higher up the ranks into administrative positions, to become chair and dean of the programs, to which she politely declined. “I want to teach,” she said, “I belong in the classroom,” and she did.
Joyce’s doctoral thesis focused on women in rural areas suffering from HIV/AIDS. Putting herself through school, she worked at a variety of nonprofits and service sector jobs, including Planned Parenthood, and was a board member for Women’s Voices for the Earth. In 2005, she was awarded the Montana Governor’s World AIDS Day Recognition Award for her work at the state and local level in this area. Well published in the professional journals of her trade, contributing multiple chapters to textbooks and periodicals, she was a licensed clinical mental health counselor in both Montana and the state of Washington, and a National Certified Counselor and an Approved Clinical Supervisor. She was certified in trauma treatment, sex offender treatment, and as an IMPACT-certified Problem-solving Treatment of Depression practitioner. In short, she wanted to help, help others who were struggling, and the idea of not lending a hand to someone in need was anathema to her being, which led to her decision in 2016 to become a U.S. citizen for the expressed purpose of voting for Hillary Clinton. Joyce had grown up in a political family. Politics was in her blood. She was righteous for the right reasons. Coming to the United States and being a black woman in rural Montana was not lost on her however. She was often afraid. She chose to combat her fear by being an example of love.
In Malawi, Joyce was the founding member of a theater group where she performed in politically charged plays. Quite astoundingly, she translated Shakespeare’s As You Like It into her native tongue of Chichewa. Joyce revived her acting career in Havre with MAT, performing as the “Amazon Queen” in A Midsummer’s Night Dream and the “Head Witch” in Macbeth, as well as directing the 24-Hour Christmas pageant and the racially searing Blue-Orange. For 20 years she was a member of the philanthropic organization, PEO, and just this last year was extremely proud to call herself one of the DemBitches. That said, Joyce did not suffer fools lightly. She was known her entire life for her honesty and forthrightness, for her candor and “telling it like it is.” It was perhaps her most endearing quality. She made friends instantly, gave of herself tirelessly, and suffered personal injuries and injustices in quiet. Proud without being arrogant, if there was one thing she demanded it was respect.
Joyce lived out her final months in Salt Lake City in a hospital, yet she never despaired. Raised catholic, she left the church at an early age but never her God. She remained positive and hopeful until the very end and did not suffer a crisis of the soul. Despite all that she went through, previously and during her final illness, she accepted God’s will. Joyce passed away at 4:04 am with her hand on her bible and Van Morrison playing from her phone. It was, given the circumstances, a good death.
Finally, she will be remembered for her laugh and her smile. These are indelible. She left them for us. They are her legacy and our medicine, to which it cannot be overstated, Joyce was an inspiration, to know her was to be improved. In time it’s understood there will be joy, it will come, but there will never be another Joyce, and for that the world is poorer, and heaven, should there be such a thing, all the richer.
Rest in peace, dear Joyce, rest in peace.
