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By Sarah Elisabeth Sawyer (Choctaw Nation), Artist in Business Leadership Fellow 2015

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Making space for artists in conversations about Native Community Development Financial Institutions (CDFI) and capacity building for communities nationwide, First Peoples Fund was excited to take part in the 4th Annual Native CDFI Capital Access Convening. Tosa Two Heart (Oglala Lakota), First Peoples Fund Program Manager of Community Development, presented reports and models from our Indigenous Arts Ecology program at the convening as part of a panel of presenters that included Vicky Holt Takamine (Native Hawaiian), Duncan Ka’ohu Seto (Native Hawaiian), and Liz Takamori (Native Hawaiian).

Facilitated by First Nations Oweesta Corporation, a longtime First Peoples Fund (FPF) partner, the Native CDFI Capital Access Convening brought together stakeholders who share a commitment to the financial and cultural well-being of Indian Country. As a convening specifically for Native institutions, attendees were able to find shared experiences, brainstorm solutions relevant to their communities and build meaningful networks with one another. The First Peoples Fund panel was able to pull-in the importance of recognizing the presence and importance of art in Indigenous communities in a way that was relevant to the future of Native CDFIs.

“Art and culture are so ingrained with everything we’re doing and what Native CDFIs are doing, but to recognize it is essential,” Tosa says. “I’m hoping our presentation inspired that with the CDFIs. I’m so thankful to Oweesta for giving us that space and opportunity to share.”  

After Tosa finished her part in the session — “Investing in Indigenous Arts Ecology” — she turned the platform over to a panel featuring individuals from the PAʻI Foundation. The foundation has a deep shared history with First Peoples Fund and is currently a 2019-2020 Indigenous Arts Ecology (IAE) grantee.

Duncan Kaʻohu Seto (Native Hawaiian), a master artist and a certified FPF Native Artist Professional Development (NAPD) trainer, brought his artist perspective to the discussion.

“We used the metaphor of weaving,” Kaʻohu says. “First Peoples Fund was one strand of fiber, PAʻI another, and then myself, and we are all intertwined.”

PAʻI Executive Director Victoria (Vicky) Holt Takamine (Native Hawaiian) emphasized how artists are activists and change-makers, as well as preservationists. She connects artists with CDFIs, helping both parties understand how their work benefits the local community. Often, artists do not realize how a small loan can propel their business forward.  

“I don’t think that our community really engages with our CDFI here in Hawaii for the kind of support they need to continue their practice,” Vicky says. “That’s one of the things we need to do in reaching out to artists and cultural practitioners.”

On the flip side, Native CDFIs are often unaware of the critical role artists play in the economy. Artists are at the forefront of perpetuating Native traditions and lifeways, yet they are overlooked regarding how much of their work is essential to sustaining their communities.

“CDFIs need to figure out how they can work with the artists a little closer,” Vicky says, “and how they can support the artists or really, the activists, in helping to protect our natural and cultural resources that are so vital to our survival.”

As shown in our 2013 market study ( Establishing a Creative Economy: Art as an Economic Engine in Native Communities ), artists need access to six resources to succeed and continue practicing their art. Native CDFIs are a massive component in this, meeting some of those needs for art markets, capacity building, capital, credit, and access to supplies in creative ways. Those investments drive change and make a sustainable difference in Indian Country.  

“I presented our data highlights regarding the Indigenous Arts Ecology report and talked about how it would benefit Native CDFIs to invest in artists,” Tosa says. “It’s important to invest in relationships with the artists.”

“We’re so different, arts and finances, it’s unusual to have an artist who is well rounded in both,” Kaʻohu says. “Besides creating artwork, to be able to see the financial part of it. CDFIs can help artists get help if we need more materials, if a photographer needs a new camera. If you could just get a loan from a CDFI, it can help you out with canvas, paint, new chisels, things like that.”

Several FPF Indigenous Arts Ecology grantees also attended the convening, including Four Bands Community Fund, Native American Community Development Corporation, and Lakota Funds. These Native CDFIs have long recognized the value of reaching out to Native artists. They work to get artists bankable, offer business training, and create new markets for them to showcase their work. Over the years, these Native CDFIs have invested resources, time, and energy in developing artists in their communities.

Amidst the financial sessions at the convening was a time to engage in traditional Native Hawaiian weaving with weavers from Nā Mea Hawai’i, a community-centered organization. CDFI participants gathered to weave a “memory mat” and continue discussions.

“There’s a saying in Hawai’i that you can hear, but you can still work with your hands,” Kaʻohu says.

In a unique way, having those weavers take part in the financial convening summed up the conversation we wanted to bring. In the world of small loans and credit lines, artists should be recognized as a source of economics and community wealth building.

“We’ve always invited our CDFI to provide training for our financial literacy classes,” Vicky says. “That was twofold — doing financial literacy training, but also provide an opportunity to introduce the CDFI and their services to our artists. We are trying to encourage the CDFIs to get their message out, and to share how they can be supportive of the work that the artists are doing.”

By Sarah Elisabeth Sawyer (Choctaw Nation), Artist in Business Leadership Fellow 2015

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Kenny Ramos (Barona Band of Mission Indians) is a theater artist and storyteller. His artistic experience covers acting in American Indian-written theater productions at professional regional theater companies including Cornerstone Theater Company, Oregon Shakespeare Festival, The Rose Theater, Native Voices at the Autry, and the Kennedy Center.

Kenny has facilitated theater workshops with urban Native youth at the Annual American Indian Youth Conference at UCLA and with urban Native youth at the San Diego American Indian Health Center.

He is a 2019 First Peoples Fund Cultural Capital Fellow and resides in Lakeside, California.

Applause resounded as Kenny walked on stage in his role as an all-star Pueblo basketball player. In the audience, he saw the faces of his elders there, beaming with pride. The Barona Circle of Elders had traveled to Los Angeles to watch Kenny’s performance in “Bingo Hall,” written by Dillon Chitto (Mississippi Choctaw/Laguna & Isleta Pueblos).

“I felt extremely honored to share my art and perform for them,” he says. “The memory of that performance will always remain near and dear to my heart.”

In 2017, after moving back home to the Barona Indian Reservation, Kenny started regularly volunteering with elders. Reconnecting with them, hearing their stories, and learning his Native language through classes helped Kenny understand the responsibilities of being a culture bearer for his people.

“As a culture bearer, my development is centered on my lived experiences as a Diuegueño Iipay/Kumeyaay ‘iikwich (man) and on my growing understanding of my culture and language,” he says. “My experiences growing up on the reservation and being raised among my tribal community have instilled in me a deep sense of self and a strong connection to my people. I know who I am and where I come from.”

As he travels to communities across the country — Arizona, South Dakota, Nebraska, Alaska, and more — Kenny holds workshops where he instructs young Native performing artists in telling their stories through theater.

He is also encouraging other performing artists he knows or meets along his travels to apply for First Peoples Fund Fellowships or attend one of our Native Artist Professional Development Trainings. Often he finds that these Native artists are deeply connected to their communities and work from their heart, taking the intentions of their work beyond the accolades of the stage.

“That’s what my mission is about — to use theater to have a positive impact for Native communities internally, but also externally,” he says. “How do we use theater to empower and heal communities?”

This is Kenny’s heart in whatever community he brings his work to, with the teaching of his elders keeping him grounded wherever he goes.

By Sarah Elisabeth Sawyer (Choctaw Nation), Artist in Business Leadership Fellow 2015

“Is this upside down?” When new artists enter a gallery or marketplace to submit their work for display, the bare essentials often are not there. Victoria (Vicky) Holt Takamine (Native Hawaiian), executive director of the PAʻI Foundation, has experienced this time and again — art pieces with no bio, no frame, and no way to hang it. Is there a down or up side? Most importantly, what is the story of the piece so the gallery can sell it?

Getting artists market-ready is a dominant component in PAʻI’s work with Native Hawaiian artists. For their 2019 First Peoples Fund Indigenous Arts Ecology program, they are preparing artists for the opening of the new 6,000 square foot PAʻI Arts Gallery & Performing Arts Center on O’ahu, and also the 13th Festival of Pacific Arts & Culture taking place June 2020 in Honolulu.

PAʻI Foundation was established in 2001 as the nonprofit organization of Pua Aliʻi ʻIlima, a hālau hula (school of Hawaiian dance) founded in 1977 by kumu hula (master teacher of Hawaiian dance), Vicky.

PAʻI works with 200 Native Hawaiian artists. They selected 12 to focus on with the Indigenous Arts Ecology (IAE) program to provide advanced professional development training through specialized workshops in financial literacy, marketing, portfolio development, curatorial skills, gallery relationship management, and art installation and prep techniques. With the First Peoples Fund Native Artist Professional Development (NAPD) training and practical experience at smaller markets, PAʻI is raising up professional artists who are passionate about preserving and perpetuating their culture. They found a long term ally in this mission with First Peoples Fund (FPF).  

In 2005, Vicky encountered FPF President Lori Pourier (Oglala Lakota) at a gathering held by Ford Foundation in support of Native art organizations.

“We had so much in common,” Vicky says, “but this has been 14 years of building relationships and trust as well as supporting each other. I’ve looked at Lori and First Peoples Fund as a mentor for PAʻI, connecting us with other art organizations. We’ve done collaboratives and worked with each other. One of the things that PAʻI did was First Peoples Fund NAPD training. Our first was around 2010. We immediately recognized this was a program we could use in our communities.’”

Knowing they couldn’t afford to fly FPF trainers to Hawai’i regularly for their hundreds of practicing artists, PAʻI partnered with FPF to train their own artists to teach the NAPD. This evolved into FPF bringing Hawai’i trainers to conduct trainings throughout the country.

“First Peoples Fund trained our own people as well as worked with them to travel and teach,” Vicky says. “Our artists would never have had those kinds of experiences otherwise. Coming back from that, the dedication and motivation the trainers have to work with the community and on their own artwork is wonderful. We have several brand new artists being mentored by the trainers. Those are the takeaways from the experiences we’ve had, and the impact First Peoples Fund has had on our community. The artists benefit from all those experiences.”  

Gearing up for the 13th Festival of Pacific Arts & Culture in 2020, the NAPD curriculum will help prep artists for the 10-day show. Vicky knows the popularity of authentic Native art will make it challenging to keep it in stock.

“Most of the artists have a day job,” she says. “We’re trying to figure out who will be in the marketplace booth and how big of a space we can manage. That is part of our Indigenous Arts Ecology grant, to provide a space for artists to demonstrate and sell their work.”

Another part of the preparation is practicing at markets and local galleries. It is an opportunity for artists to expand their networks, increase sales in a professional environment while they learn things like pricing, displays, and how to tell their stories.  

“With our Indigenous Arts Ecology program, we want to look at next-level development –– to work with those artists that have come to the first training session, and develop a second, higher level,” Vicky explains. “We want to make sure their bios are done and take a close look at their portfolios. Not just do the training and walk away, but follow up with the artists to see how they’ve improved, where they are in their career as artists, and what their needs are for the next level.”

The other major component of PAʻI’s Indigenous Arts Ecology program is the artspace —PAʻI Arts Gallery & Performing Arts Center — under construction on O’ahu. PAʻI is busy preparing artists for the new gallery space as they look toward a January 2020 opening.

“We want to make sure our Indigenous Arts Ecology artists can submit artwork,” Vicky says. “I’m hoping to get some of theirs installed in our art gallery when it opens. That’s our ultimate goal, that the artists we work with will be part of the exhibit in our new space. And then moving forward, we’re hoping to plan artist talks and demonstrations.”

Over the years, PAʻI has witnessed the growth of new artists as master artists come alongside them. Through the FPF NAPD training, these up and coming artists learn how to display their art, price it, and what things they need to bring when approaching a gallery.

“First Peoples Fund has been very generous,” Vicky says. “Generosity is one of PAʻI’s core values as well. Our missions align in our support for our Native peoples, and that is what’s been so great about the work we’ve been able to do with First Peoples Fund.”

By Sarah Elisabeth Sawyer (Choctaw Nation), Artist in Business Leadership Fellow 2015

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Addison Karl (Chickasaw Nation, Choctaw Nation of Oklahoma) is a contemporary artist. His work manifests itself in drawing, painting, and sculpture in exhibitions, public art, lectures, and installation. His art projects have found their way to Hong Kong, Pakistan, Mexico, Malaysia, Japan, Israel, Russia, the United States, and Europe.

Support from Addison’s 2019 First Peoples Fund Artist in Business Leadership grant is helping him tell the Chickasaw story in a visual narrative. He resides in Bremerton, Washington.  

Strength and beauty broke forth as Addison hammered away the ceramic shell surrounding his bronze sculpture of Mary Shackleford (Chickasaw Nation). Posed in traditional Chickasaw dress, Mary sat with folded hands, her expression one of calm determination. The sculpture of her had emerged from the fiery heat, enduring to the moment where it rested among the shattered pieces of ceramic, a symbol of perseverance, tenacity, and hope.

When Addison visited Oklahoma in 2017 for the Chickasaw Nation Annual Meeting and Festival, he captured the realness of people like Mary for his Heritage Preservation Sculptures project. From linguists and stomp dancers to storytellers and elders, he gathered reference material for his current focus of sculpture combined with heritage preservation. Addison is expanding his abilities as an artist to bronze sculpting, a strong material that represents the unconquerable spirit of the Chickasaw people.

Addison’s first attempts at 3D art were a learning process. He created a mold with plaster of Paris and sent it in the mail, only to have it arrive in crumbs. He needed to find something to withstand any journey.  

“That’s where the bronze comes into play,” he says. “Thankfully, First Peoples Fund saw the benefit of this narrative in personal storytelling and using a material that has longevity to it. The cool aspect of this is, I’m learning so much throughout the process. Mary Shackleford is only my third sculpture in bronze. This is all brand new.”

Addison’s first translation into bronze was “Kamassa” (elder), an Oklahoma Chickasaw man whose quiet demeanor and tranquility shows in the gentle lines etched on his face.  

The statue was durable enough for the journey to Munich, where it was on display before Addison brought it back to the U.S. and into the home of a private collector.

Addison has traveled worldwide with his work as he attempts to expand viewers’ understanding of the context, structures, and surfaces that his art inhabits. He will continue to create pieces like Mary Shackleford that symbolize rising out of brokenness.

“As for many tribal members, creating is a means of honoring our ancestors and passing down cultural values from one generation to the next,” he says. “It’s an important factor in turning the past’s hardships and wounds into something beautiful.”

First Peoples Fund (FPF), in partnership with the Black Hills Area Community Foundation, Bush Foundation, HRK Foundation, Johnson Scholarship Foundation, and Northwest Area Foundation, hosted a roundtable discussion this month. Titled Within, Together, Collective, the day was part of an ongoing conversation around the idea that now is the opportune time to thoughtfully deepen our collective efforts and investments in Native communities. Several intersecting bodies of research discussed throughout the day illustrated the urgency for, and challenges in, creating a more equitable future in which Native communities are not left out.

Malcom Chapman, former city council member for Rapid City, South Dakota, walked around the room holding a piece of artwork. He had asked everyone to write down their reaction to the piece, detailing what thoughts came to mind as they considered what they were seeing. Then he asked them to circle a single word in their description, the word that most fully encompassed their reaction:

“Knowledge.”

“Motherhood.”

“Learning.”

“Technology.”

This opening for the day’s events reminded people that even when we all look at and react to the same thing, our understandings can be different. Malcom, the event’s facilitator, asked people to, “Take time to reflect within as we go through today’s conversations so that together we can come up with ideas and solutions that move us forward as a collective.”
Gathered in the room were representatives from sixteen foundations and nonprofit organizations: Artspace, Better Way Foundation, Black Hills Area Community Foundation, Bush Foundation, Center for Cultural Innovation, First Nations Development Institute, HRK Foundation, Jerome Foundation, John T. Vucurevich Foundation, Johnson Scholarship Foundation, McKnight Foundation, The Nathan Cummings Foundation, Native Americans in Philanthropy, Northwest Area Foundation, NoVo Foundation, and Sioux Falls Area Community Foundation.

Going around the room, everyone introduced themselves and said a few words about their hopes for the day, creating a motivating energy for the coming conversations. Then the first panel of the morning kicked-off. Presenting a wide-range of data regarding everything from mainstream perceptions of Native people to trends in philanthropy’s support of Native communities, this panel set the tone and purpose for the day’s conversations. Three bodies of research combined to create a picture of the realities and challenges facing Native communities and their philanthropic partners.

The first body of research examined the state of large foundation giving to Native organizations and causes from 2006 to 2014. The key findings of the study found a decline of 29% in total funding over these years. This decline represented a $35 million drop in funding, meaning less than 0.02% of philanthropic dollars go to organizations focused on Native causes and Native-led organizations. The second body of research, conducted by First Nations Development and Echo Hawk Consulting resulted in the groundbreaking publication regarding perceptions of Native people: “Reclaiming Native Truth”. The study gathered feedback from over 11 different focus groups across the United States, with a wide range of proximity to areas with high Native populations. The focus groups were both urban and rural, and comprised of various ethnic, academic and socioeconomic backgrounds. Among the study’s more striking findings was that 40% of people believe Native people no longer exist within the United States.

40% OF PEOPLE BELIEVE NATIVE PEOPLE NO LONGER EXIST WITHIN THE UNITED STATES

- Reclaiming Native Truth, 2018

The final piece of research presented in the morning was from an internal project conducted by the Bush Foundation’s Native Nations Activities Manager, Carly Bad Heart Bull (Dakota/Muscogee Creek). This project, the “Native Nations Investment Report”, looked back at the available grant information from Bush Foundation’s funding, starting in 1970. The purpose of the report was to share and illustrate the ways Bush programs invest and support Native nations and people in the three-state region. Carly’s presentation served as an example of how a foundation can look critically at its past funding to Native organizations and use that data to plan more equitable funding in the future.

“The majority of the work happening in Indian Country is on the grassroots level,” said Carly. “It can be difficult for the people doing this work to have the time and capacity to manage grants and reports. For some funders, it can be a challenge in easily investing without the help of a more established intermediary organization. Challenges like these are opportunities for us to be intentional in learning from communities in order to develop solutions.”

Challenges in Philanthropy

Delving deeper into the discussion on intermediaries, Jackie Franke, Vice President of First Nations Development Institute (FNDI), and Lori Pourier, President of First Peoples Fund, shared a panel discussing the role of intermediary organizations in philanthropy’s relationship to Indian Country.  Serving as a bridge between Native communities and philanthropy, intermediaries such as First Peoples Fund and FNDI often serve a crucial role of educating philanthropy on, and advocating for, the good work happening in Native communities. Additionally, intermediaries help change-makers in Native communities and smaller organizations navigate the world of philanthropy.  

The roundtable discussions continued to delve into the challenges presented by philanthropy’s hesitation to invest in Native nonprofits. These hesitations, as highlighted in FNDI’s research, are based on common misconceptions and misguided narratives that include a lack of accurate information about Native people and how their communities function; concerns about the misuse of funds; and feeling overwhelmed by the perceived amount of time required to learn about Native history and governmental structures and to build relationships with Native communities and governments.

“So much of philanthropy is focused on short-term, transactional interactions rather than long-term change making ones,” said Kevin Walker, President of the Northwest Area Foundation. In advocating for more funding for Native communities, Northwest Area Foundation leads by example through a commitment to devote 40 percent of new grant dollars to Native-led organizations in their funding region. Kevin explained to the group that this commitment acknowledges and honors the history of the wealth of their region and foundation, and its roots in Native lands and communities.

LESS 0.02% OF PHILANTHROPIC DOLLARS GO TO ORGANIZATIONS FOCUSED ON NATIVE CAUSES AND NATIVE-LED ORGANIZATIONS.

- Reclaiming Native Truth, 2018

Commitments like Northwest Area Foundation’s are rare, in part due to persistent myths. As a result of pervasive, damaging narratives about Native communities, Native nonprofits consistently have to present  “Indian 101” information in order to fully contextualize their work in a way that is reflective of accurate, contemporary realities. The recent research and data about Native communities, incorporated into compelling narratives, offers a pathway for deeper and more nuanced understandings of contemporary Native communities and organizations.

The funders present recognized that challenging and dismantling myths about Native communities also requires listening to and learning from Native-led organizations, allowing Native communities to define their own measures of success, and investing in long-term relationships.

Listening to Community Voices

The afternoon welcomed in representatives from local Native-led grantee organizations Four Bands Community Fund, Lakota Federal Credit Union, and Thunder Valley Community Development Corporation. Their panel offered funders in the room the opportunity to listen to pertinent feedback, ask questions, and engage in earnest discussion.  

Stories and data presented during the afternoon showed that rather than being a “risky” investment, Native organizations are an integral part of their local communities. Far from being a funding risk, supporting Native-led organizations provides philanthropy with an authentic connection to communities and is an effective and efficient way to support lasting change.

“Funders often see it as we only impacted 250 lives with the 250 loans we’ve made,” said Lakota Vogel (Cheyenne River Sioux), Executive Director at Four Bands Community Fund. ”Well, I can tell you a story of the impact of every one of those 250 loans we made and the lives changed as a result, and I would challenge a bank in the middle of a city to do the same.”

“Funders often see it as we only impacted 250 lives with the 250 loans we’ve made. Well, I can tell you a story of the impact of every one of those 250 loans we made and the lives changed as a result, and I would challenge a bank in the middle of a city to do the same.”

— Lakota Vogel (Cheyenne River Sioux), Executive Director, Four Bands Community Fund

Thunder Valley CDC’s representative, Andrew Iron Shell, described how their organization’s systemic approach to community development work means that their program areas fall under everything from early childhood education to food sovereignty, workforce development to home construction. Although individual program numbers vary in quantity, it’s the interconnected, collective system of programs that contribute to the “petri dish” of possibilities for the future, as he described it. Siloed program funding can make if difficult to fund this kind of work, requiring organizations to patch together a wide variety of funding sources, each with their own grant requirements and restrictions. And sometimes, being a Native organization can make a grantee into a “program area” regardless of the specific work they do.

“Saying ‘we don’t have a program area for that’ isn’t a reason to not fund Native communities,” said Carly. “Native organizations are doing work in education, in economic development, in anything you find in other communities. You don’t have to have a program area specific to Native communities in order to fund the work of Native people.”

By Sarah Elisabeth Sawyer (Choctaw Nation), Artist in Business Leadership Fellow 2015  

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Deborah A. Jojola (Isleta Pueblo, Jemez Pueblo) is an expert in a variety of mediums — painting, frescos, printmaking, ceramics, and bookmaking, with a special interest in the process of lithography. She has shown her artwork at the Santa Fe Indian Market (SWAIA) for over 25 years and served as curator of exhibitions at the Indian Pueblo Cultural Center in Albuquerque. As an artist, she has worked nationally and internationally in Hawai’i, Canada, Russia, and Japan.

Deborah is a 2019 First Peoples Fund Cultural Capital Fellow and resides in Albuquerque, New Mexico.

As Deborah reaches in for a scoop of plaster from the bucket, the feel and smell of damp earth brings her a sense of comfort and purpose. She makes plaster from soil she gathers in cultivated fields. After sifting it clean, she adds ash and distilled water.  

Most of her mason board panels, which she makes herself, represents tablitas, a traditional Pueblo headdress worn during ceremonies by men and women. Spreading the plaster thinly on the panel boards, she’ll add willows, shells and turquoise stones to create the traditional fresco wall hanging.

Ever since she was young, working with mud has fascinated Deborah. She helped her aunties, in Jemez Pueblo, plaster their adobe homes. That was when she knew she was an artist.

“My mother and Auntie from Jemez Pueblo share memories or reflections of their youth,” Deborah says, “learning from our grandmothers and grandfathers no longer with us about old ways and the understanding of ‘why’ we still continue to keep these traditions.”

Deborah recently received an Artist in Residence at Mesa Verde Historical Site. Living in a hogan, she pursued and researched the environment, soils, minerals, and art forms as she walked the trails of her ancestral lands.

“Literally walking in their footsteps, climbing the ladders to cliff alcoves and cliff dwellings once occupied by many Native families, it became my personal pilgrimage,” she says. “It was very powerful and enlightening. They worked together as a community, there was no I or me. It was we and us.”

With few elders who retain the knowledge of how to make frescoes, Deborah’s role in the community becomes more critical each year.

“My purpose in life is within my artwork, using my art to speak to my people, to teach and to revive a technique that will be lost if not learned and practiced,” she says. “It is critical that art, culture, and ancestral knowledge is passed on from one generation to the next.”

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Note: Deborah’s Cultural Capital fellowship was funded through your generous donations during our 2018 Giving Tuesday event. We appreciate everything you do in supporting culture bearers like Deborah. She truly embodies every aspect of how the fellowship is used by Native artists who are committed to carrying on their community’s traditions.

By Sarah Elisabeth Sawyer (Choctaw Nation), Artist in Business Leadership Fellow 2015

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Darby Raymond-Overstreet (Diné) is a digital artist and printmaker. She received her B.A.s in Psychology and Studio Art and graduated with Honors from Dartmouth College in Hanover, New Hampshire in 2016. During her first time at the Santa Fe Indian Market (SWAIA) in 2018, she won multiple awards and received exposure in the Albuquerque Journal and Santa Fe New Mexican.

Darby is a 2019 First Peoples Fund Artist in Business Leadership Fellow and resides in Santa Fe, New Mexico.

Darby sits with her portrait subject on their couch, going through photo albums as they tell the stories behind each photo they show her.

Those moments of sitting there with the person she is going to create a portrait of, reliving the experiences that have shaped their life gives Darby a feel for what she is going to create. Every portrait she does incorporates intentional, meaningful patterns. After careful consideration, she selects one of the photos. Based on the person’s personality, and inspired by Navajo weavers in the late 1880s-1950s, Darby chooses a rug pattern.  

“I really respect weavers’ artistic integrity and their fortitude and resilience through hardship,” she says. “If not for their efforts, it may be that some of the people today would not have been woven into the cultural fabric that is Diné.”

Darby finds patterns in books, collections, museums, and sometimes from her own family, then scans the design and drops it into her digital program. It becomes an endless pattern.  

Using digital tools, Darby overlays the photo and rug pattern, meticulously designing and interweaving them. When finished, she prints the portrait on canvas with archival inks and uses churro yarn to attach it to a traditional weaving loom she built. The entire process of creating a one of a kind portrait wall hanging takes up to 40 hours.

“The technique is something I came up with my senior year at college,” she says. “My professors were trying to get me to talk about the concept of creating pattern portraits, and the loom was a great way to put the idea out there of being woven into a culture, a society, an identity, and to have it really accessible to an audience.”  

“Interwoven” is a piece Darby created from a photo of her mother and herself, enhanced with turquoise stone and mother of pearl inlay.

“Through the time we spent being nourished in her womb, we are interwoven,” she says. As part of her landscape series, Darby is using funds from FPF to travel and capture photos of sites important to her people.

“My efforts are to not only celebrate my Diné identity and heritage,” she says, “but to educate and give perspective on the history and relationship that the art of weaving has with my ancestors, current generations, and the history and landscape of the Southwest.”

By Sarah Elisabeth Sawyer (Choctaw Nation), Artist in Business Leadership Fellow 2015

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Dream Warriors is the subject of a video story First Peoples Fund has created with funding from the National Endowment for the Arts. There will be an accompanying official written component for this video story. This video study is one of three focusing on how performing arts is creating healing pathways for Native youth into performing arts-based enterprises. These are rooted in traditional culture, knowledge, and values through performing arts, allowing them to reclaim, reconnect, and revitalize themselves and their culture in their communities.  

First Peoples Fund Video Story: Dream Warriors

ABOUT THE WORK OF DREAM WARRIORS: A STORY FROM THE DREAM WARRIORS FAMILY

“I just got out of the hospital after trying to commit suicide.”

This is what one youth in Oklahoma shared with the five Indigenous members of Dream Warriors after one of their shows on their “Heal It” tour. During three days in Oklahoma, they played six shows. It was exhausting for Tanaya Winder (Duckwater Shoshone Tribe), Frank Waln (Sicangu Lakota), Lyla June (Diné / Cheyenne), Paul Wenell Jr. (“Tall Paul,” Leech Lake Band of Ojibwe), and Mic Jordan (Ojibwe), but stories the youth share remind them of the reason they are on the road.

“Our Native youth struggle with coping mechanisms to heal their traumas,” Tanaya says. She is a spoken word poet, founder of Dream Warriors Management, and 2017 First Peoples Fund Artist in Business Leadership (ABL) Fellow. “Without healthy methods of processing their mental and emotional needs, their lives are at stake.”

The youth who came up after a concert filled with voices, guitar, and drum told the Dream Warriors how her life was changed by hearing how they had overcome painful experiences in their lives. She was happy to be there to hear their stories after her own painful experience.

Frank had stickers in his bag, which he signed and gave to her and other youth with a message: “When you guys are having a hard time, pull these out and think about today –– think about this conversation because you matter to us. We’re doing this because you guys are special to us and we know what you’re going through.”

Frank, a two-time First Peoples Fund (FPF) ABL Fellow and hip-hop artist, intimately understands the struggles of youth and performs his original songs for healing. He launched the hashtag #healit after youth started telling him that with his music, he “killed it.” The Dream Warriors felt a better description of their work was performing to “heal it.”

“I feel really blessed individually as an artist because everywhere I go, every show I do, a young Native person comes up to me and tells me that my music changed their life,” he says.

The Dream Warriors mission is to embody, teach, and live their heartwork by providing a range of multi-faceted services around performance art and arts-based education to communities throughout Turtle Island. They define a Dream Warrior as someone who uses their passion, dream, or gift to provide for their loved ones and community while understanding the responsibility in using the gifts he/she has been given. Dream Warriors seek to empower others to tell their stories through art. By providing arts-based education and pedagogy as well as performances to community members, youth, and teachers, they hope to help those they serve find healthy outlets to address historical and present-day traumas.

Ultimately, their goal is to help communities heal.  

Last year, one of the Dream Warriors, Lyla June, a public speaker, poet, hip-hop artist, and acoustic singer-songwriter, had the idea to reach out to Native boarding schools. Combined with Frank’s Heal It hashtag, Tanaya decided they could bring it all together for a tour. Dream Warriors received a 2018 Our Nations’ Spaces grant through First Peoples Fund to help support the tour.

The Dream Warriors impacted communities as individuals and collectively. Their stories and styles twine together to touch youth of all backgrounds and pain — cycles of drug and alcohol abuse, sexual assault, and historical trauma.

“All of us have broken those cycles,” Lyla says. “What we try to do through our music is to help kids understand they are beautiful Indigenous people and to never, ever think less of themselves than that.”

“I always tell them I share these hardships about my life not to be a tearjerker, but to let people know where I’ve come from and what I’ve experienced in life,” says Paul, a 2018 ABL Fellow. He often brings the power of Native language into his songs.

“They can see me right here in person,” he adds. “Here I am, far away from home, doing things that I love to do. If we can do it, you can do it too.”  

The artists expressed how they’ve grown individually in their artistry by being together, learning from one another. But their collaboration takes it a step further. “We’re not just individual artists anymore,” Mic says. “We’re like a family. No egos are there when we do what we do. It’s all togetherness, and we wanted to prove that it’s a beautiful thing to just heal together, and also to get together as a team and build something.”

In 2017, Mic used his First Peoples Fund ABL fellowship to expand on his #DearNativeYouth project.

“All it takes is one moment of inspiration to change the course of a young Indigenous person’s life,” Tanaya says. “Each of the Dream Warriors has our own story of how music, how poetry, how art has helped us heal. If we can help youth find healing pathways towards empowerment by sharing our journeys, we can help heal our people.”

Dream Warriors has taken on not only a national identity but one that will last well beyond this clip of time they are together.

“We are the new ancestors,” Mic says. “We are the ones who our children and grandchildren are going to look up to in the stars. They’re all going through the same thing. It’s not us trying to help them heal, it’s all of us healing together.”

By Sarah Elisabeth Sawyer (Choctaw Nation), Artist in Business Leadership Fellow 2015

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Ten years ago, Kamaliikupono Hanohano (Native Hawaiian) began a lifelong apprenticeship with Su‘a Sulu‘ape Keone Nunes (Native Hawaiian) in his traditional tattoo school known as Pāuhi where he teaches “Kākau uhi” which is generally defined as traditional Hawaiian tattooing.

Kamaliikupono is the youngest traditional Hawaiian tattoo artist today. He was awarded a 2019 First Peoples Fund Cultural Capital Fellowship to fund travel to conferences and materials needed to perpetuate this traditional practice.

When Kamaliikupono was 15, he asked his art teacher to let him meet an elusive man. It took a year, but Kamaliikupono’s teacher finally had this man, master traditional Hawaiian tattooist, Keone Nunes, come into the classroom.

When Keone entered his life, Kamaliikupono wanted to receive Alaniho, a uniquely Hawaiian tattoo running from hip to ankle. Keone, a 2015 First Peoples Fund Community Spirit Awards recipient, agreed on one condition — that Kamaliikupono receive blessing from his family.

Kamaliikupono’s father said no.

“My dad doesn’t have tattoos himself,” Kamaliikupono says. “He and my grandfather were part of the lost generation of Hawaiians who were beaten for speaking the language. Just being Hawaiian was frowned upon.”

But Kamaliikupono diligently asked his father every month for four years. When his father realized that Kamaliikupono was serious and did understand what he was committing to, he gave his blessing.

Keone tattooed Kamaliikupono and, a year later, took him in for a traditional apprenticeship, one that will last a lifetime. Keone brought him into his home to sit and observe the work, learning by watching. Over time, Kamaliikupono received blessings to do the work himself.

The protocol for tap tattooing involves time; it’s a spiritual journey. The person receiving the tattoo undergoes a rigorous time of physical restrictions. When all is prepared, family is often a part of the ceremony when the tattooing takes place.

Creating the traditional tattoo tools Kamaliikupono uses is as significant as each step in the process. A mōlī is made of albatross bone, turtle shell, and wood harvested from Hawai‘i (big) Island that requires him to travel at least once a year. Kamaliikupono uses a hitting stick to strike the tool and create the pattern.

By Sarah Elisabeth Sawyer (Choctaw Nation), Artist in Business Leadership Fellow 2015

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Margaret Jacobs (St. Regis Mohawk Tribe) studied Studio Art at Dartmouth College in Hanover, New Hampshire, graduated with high honors for her thesis work, and received the prestigious Perspectives on Design award.

She works full-time in her art business, traveling throughout the U.S. for juried art markets, residencies, and shows. She currently acts as the secretary on the Board of Directors for the Native American Alumni Association at Dartmouth, and the Treasurer on the board of directors for CATV (Community Access Television).

Margaret’s 2019 First Peoples Fund Artist in Business Leadership program is funding a custom-built oven and spray booth in her home studio she shares with her husband in Enfield, New Hampshire.

Culture and family ties often sink into Margaret’s subconscious and come out through her sculptures and jewelry. She explores the tension between natural and synthetic objects and colors and how objects hold cultural and personal importance. The Mohawk Ironworkers went out from their communities into the world to build iconic structures, and their work, lives, and culture inspires Margaret in her own metal work.

“I’m influenced by this layered history of iconic buildings like the Empire State Building, the World Trade Center and the George Washington Bridge,” Margaret says. “These quintessential ‘American’ buildings are so familiar to many people and also integral to daily life, but contain this complex and unique Indigenous narrative.”

Her work is infused with colors she applies through powder-coating. “It’s a process where pigment is applied as a dry powder electrostatically to an object then cured under heat,” she explains

Powder-coated brass jewelry is a newer venture for Margaret, a different medium to explore branches of the same concepts.

“Sometimes when I’m working with a natural object, I don’t quite know where I’m going with it,” she says, “but I like to see what the material or what the object that I’m using can inspire. I’m very much about using a material or process in an organic matter to see how and what it can lend to the work and add to my story.”

One of her pieces, “Steel Medicine,” speaks of adaptation and cultural identity. The forms in the piece allude to the spud wrench holders that Mohawk Ironworkers used to hold their tools, along with the imagery of cedar branches and eagle feathers.

“I see my family’s lineage built into my work,” Margaret says. “The concepts in my work stem from a fusion of ideas that I’m exploring: Mohawk Ironworkers and their relationship to steel as a material; the fragility and cyclical complexity of decay and growth in nature; and storytelling elements from traditional Mohawk stories.”

By Sarah Elisabeth Sawyer (Choctaw Nation), Artist in Business Leadership Fellow 2015

Cover Image by Bryan Parker (White Mountain Apache, Muscogee Creek, Mississippi Choctaw)  

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Kristina Iron Cloud (Oglala Lakota) arrived at the colorful, one-of-a-kind bus rolling across the Pine Ridge Reservation. She was there to sell her star quilts during a Buying Day hosted on First Peoples Fund’s Rolling Rez Arts bus, made possible through a partnership with the Heritage Center Gift Shop at the Red Cloud Indian School. While she had sold to the Heritage Center before, on that day she was introduced to the Rolling Rez Arts bus that is making waves on the Reservation and across the country.

“The bus is bigger than life,” says Bryan Parker (White Mountain Apache, Muscogee Creek, Mississippi Choctaw). He is the First Peoples Fund Rolling Rez Arts bus coordinator. “A project that was focused on our local arts community has grown into a national personality.”

Wherever it goes, the bus brings people together — a vehicle for community and creativity.

Through the Rolling Rez Arts program’s annual series of art classes, Kristina held a two-day workshop in the garage space at Racing Magpie in Rapid City, South Dakota. The participants completed their own satin baby star quilt. Kristina is widely recognized in the community as a well-known star quilt maker, so having her instruct the course helped people feel confident in the process. Those with little experience were helped along by Kristina and some of the more experienced quilters in the class, allowing them to overcome the intimidation of quilt patterns.

Bryan also invited Kristina’s husband, Jozee Campos (Kiowa), to teach some of his art mediums — moccasin-making, regalia, parfleche-making, and painting — on the Rolling Rez Arts bus.

“That’s basically what we do,” Kristina says. “We take this art and spread it to other parts of our Native community. The bus has made it more convenient.”

When the Rolling Rez Arts bus first started roaming the Reservation, few people knew what to make of the sky blue bus with its floating white clouds and herd of brightly painted buffalo.

Gradually, people learned what the Rolling Rez Arts (RRA) bus was about, and now climb inside whenever it comes through their area. They conduct online banking through the Lakota Federal Credit Union, take classes, and sell art at the monthly buying days like Kristina did when she discovered the bus.

Now in its fourth season, the bus has become a place where community gathers. Beginner artists climb on board during classes, learning and receiving feedback on their work. Bryan loves watching the results of those interactions.

“They’re taking those skills and applying them to their professional life –– entering art shows and winning awards, using the banking services with the Lakota Federal Credit Union or selling art to the Heritage Center,” he says. “Some apply for First Peoples Fund fellowships or become a trainer to facilitate the Native Artist Professional Development Training. They’re getting involved in some way, and the bus has a role in that.”

The celebrity status of the bus has come to the attention of outlets such as PBS News Hour, the National Endowment for the Arts, the New York Times, and in the 2019 Rural Action Guide for Governors and States.

Organizations across the country are learning about this model and how it can break barriers that nonprofits face when it comes to developing and nurturing their artists and economies. The bus reaches people in the community otherwise isolated from one another, unable to access resources like banking, markets, and training.

“They can go back to their own communities and add to what they’re already doing in a creative way that will help other people,” Bryan added.

By Sarah Elisabeth Sawyer (Choctaw Nation), Artist in Business Leadership Fellow 2015

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“I am not alone as an artist.” This was a key takeaway for Denise McKay (Standing Rock Sioux Tribe) at the First Peoples Fund Indigenous Arts Ecology convening this past February. An artist and culture bearer from Fort Yates, North Dakota, Denise makes traditional art and regalia for her family and the community. She has taught more than 20 traditional art classes at Sitting Bull College on the Standing Rock Indian Reservation. Denise attended the convening as a community artist with Sitting Bull College, a 2019 Indigenous Arts Ecology grantee.  

Jennifer Martel (Cheyenne River Sioux Tribe) is the Sitting Bull Visitor Center Coordinator and was able to observe Denise’s interaction with fellow Native artists at the convening. Jennifer is passionate about bringing traditional arts and culture back at the community level.

“Just being with the artists at the convening, and getting ideas, engaging, and seeing a connection with them really opened my eyes,”

Jennifer says. “It made me ask myself questions, like how do I continue to help the artists? How do I encourage them, how do I make resources available for them? Understanding their needs and wants to be an artist was critical.”  

Jennifer took the experience home to contemplate along with ideas and proposals that Sitting Bull College had initially put forth in their Indigenous Arts Ecology (IAE) grant. Guided by Lakota/Dakota culture, values, and language, Sitting Bull College is committed to building intellectual capital through academic, career and technical education, and promoting economic and social development. The college is located on the Standing Rock Indian Reservation which spans 2.3 million acres across southern North Dakota and northern South Dakota.

They offer cultural classes and workshops in making star quilts, shawls, horse masks, ledger art, parfleche, painting, pottery, regalia, skirts, ribbon shirts, baby moccasins, beading, and quilling. The college believes artists give life to a creative community by thinking outside the box and teaching traditions important to Lakota/Dakota lifeways.  

Through work in the community, Sitting Bull College meets and offers resources to artists. In classes for traditional arts, students come to understand how the traditional community works with the value system of helping one another. Students gain an appreciation not only for art and culture, but community. Art and culture provide students with a sense of now, and motivates them to envision where they want to be. In turn, they become skilled in traditional art or craft and use those to teach others in the community. This has generated a revitalization of traditional Lakota/Dakota art in the surrounding communities who have started art classes.

The college’s focus with the Indigenous Arts Ecology (IAE) grant was on developing an arts organization. Now, Jennifer is taking conversations she’s had with artists like Denise, and reconsidering the urgent need to facilitate them traveling to markets outside their community and generating revenue. While the Sitting Bull Visitor Center and Sitting Bull College Bookstore are steady markets for many of their artists, Denise made an observation in Phoenix during the IAE convening: While people may not buy her art within her own community, off the reservation her work could sell.

The college recently hosted an FPF Native Artist Professional Development Training (NAPD) and community meeting to hear from local artists about their needs. Jennifer attended her first NAPD training in Oklahoma four years ago as part of her work with Sitting Bull College. She realized the potential it had to impact artists within the community of Standing Rock.

“There was good communication that was brought forth by the artists, who were engaged at the training,” she says. “They talked about things they would like to see as well as things that they are dealing with, offering ideas and making connections.”