This summer, I had the privilege of attending classes in Diné Bizaad (Navajo language) and Diné history at Diné College in Tsaile, Arizona, located within the Navajo Nation. My experience there reaffirmed the strength of Indigenous peoples — the dedicated, daily efforts of Native language and history educators, art instructors, staff, and students who nurture culture from within. Their unwavering dedication ensures that Indigenous languages, worldviews, and creative expressions are preserved for generations to come.
As Native Americans, we inherit a legacy of resilience from ancestors who faced various forms of erasure under colonial systems. On this Indigenous Peoples’ Day, we witness another chapter of this same tragic narrative unfolding in Palestine — a familiar act of genocide, broadcasted to the world in real-time. At the same time, the enduring American colonial project continues to encounter resistance, a sentiment I felt deeply while engaging with the learners at Diné College. My Diné grandparents, as children, were separated from their Diné Bizaad-speaking families to attend English-speaking Christian boarding schools established by the U.S. government. Shimásání (my grandmother) always motivated me to embrace Diné Bizaad and Diné history. The resilience of our ancestors lays a path for us, and it is our duty to honor it with similar bravery.
From tribal college classrooms to prestigious museum galleries, the tenacity of Indigenous people continues to influence art and culture. Contemporary Native artists, grounded in generations of perseverance, are asserting their presence boldly within various institutions. For instance, Jeffrey Gibson (Mississippi Choctaw/Cherokee) showcases his bronze animal sculptures adorning The Met’s facade, while his curated exhibition An Indigenous Present features works from 15 Indigenous artists spanning a century, now on view at the Institute of Contemporary Art, Boston. The late Jaune Quick-to-See Smith (Citizen of the Confederated Salish and Kootenai Nation) curated Indigenous Identities: Here, Now & Always at Rutgers University’s Zimmerli Art Museum, presenting 97 living Indigenous artists. Recently, Andrea Carlson (Grand Portage Ojibwe and European settler descent) debuted her first museum survey, A Constant Sky, at the Denver Art Museum. Kent Monkman (Fisher River Cree Nation) launched his largest solo exhibition, History is Painted by the Victors, at the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts. Dyani White Hawk’s (Sičáŋǧu Lakota) much-anticipated showcase, Love Language, opens October 18 at the Walker Art Center. This is a thrilling time for Native art, as Indigenous voices resonate within institutions and influence audiences globally.
This Indigenous Peoples’ Day, I urge readers to support Native-led, non-profit art organizations such as Ma’s House, the Institute of American Indian Arts (IAIA), the Aquinnah Cultural Center, the Tomaquag Museum, Forge Project, the Native Arts + Cultures Foundation (NACF), or your local tribal cultural center, museum, or college. These organizations nurture Indigenous artists, thinkers, and cultural custodians. Indigenous art and culture are not only surviving; they’re flourishing. Ensuring that this future is secure requires our support. Recognizing Indigenous Peoples’ Day and honoring Indigenous survivance is only a beginning; there is an essential need to translate awareness into concrete actions. The next Jeffrey Gibson may be in a classroom at IAIA right now. However, IAIA’s federal funding remains precarious, a result of budget decisions made during the Trump administration. This precariousness highlights a broader reality: after generations spent employing education to erase Native languages, arts, and knowledge systems, the current federal support for Indigenous-led tribal colleges — now framed as “DEI” initiatives — is not merely an act of goodwill; it is a legal and treaty-bound commitment. In times of violence and uncertainty, we need Native-led art and cultural spaces more than ever. Contributions of even $10 — about the price of an iced coffee in New York City — can make a significant impact. For those unable to donate, following these organizations on social media and advocating for their funding is another impactful way to engage.
Recently, at the Santa Fe Indian Market, I had the opportunity to volunteer with Forge Project, providing complimentary food and cold beverages to vendors. We distributed 1,000 burritos that day. It was an uplifting experience, rooted in care, community, and action. Much like the classrooms at Diné College, it reinforced my belief that Indigenous resilience is reflected in both grand achievements and small, collective gestures of kindness. Together, learning together, and acting collectively fortifies my hope. In Diné Bizaad, there’s a saying: “T’ááhózhǫ́ó,” which loosely translates to “it’s up to you,” serving as a reminder of our autonomy amidst the inherited challenges and the future we are shaping.
