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Sondra Simone Segundo (Alaskan Haida) is on a writing roll.

Having just published her first children's picture book, the 2012 First Peoples Fund Artist in Business Leadership fellow has two more in the works and plans to keep writing after that.

"I feel like I'm dreaming," said Segundo, who is Alaskan Haida and born and raised in Seattle, Washington. "My book is finally published. It took a long time and maybe that's why it means so much."

The book, "Killer Whale Eyes," was published by Sealaska Heritage Institute (SHI). Segundo wrote the story to teach Southeast Alaska Native culture to young people. The story was inspired by Haida stories and beliefs that were passed down to Segundo from her maternal Haida grandparents and other Elders.

"These are stories that are passed down through the years from my family."

She dedicated the book to her uncle, the late Claude Morrison, a well-known fluent Haida speaker, and her aunt Viola Burgess. Both helped her translate some of the words to Haida. She also included a dedication to Louise (Morrison) Arrington, who supported her work on the book.

Segundo wrote a song for the book and sought help from Elders in her tribe to help her translate it so she could record it and include it with the book. Segundo said the picture book has been a way for her to continue to teach others about her culture, which her grandparents encouraged her to practice through music, language, eating traditional foods, visiting tribal lands and honoring Native art.

Segundo also paints traditional Haida designs on contemporary shoes and clothing and makes traditional regalia with her family to wear in performances for the Haida Heritage Foundation, of which she is a drum and dance leader.

Her next goal is to publish an art instruction book, which she was able to write with the support of First Peoples Fund. The book, "Form Line Drawing Made Easy," gives instructions on Haida art.

"It's the art of my people and it's drawn shape by shape," she said.

After that, it's on to a second children's picture book about her grandparents called "Love Birds."

Segundo said she still carries with her the lessons she learned while working with First Peoples Fund.

"It gave me confidence to approach people," she said. "It built my confidence as a Native entrepreneur. It's hard to switch from my art mind to my business mind, but I'm still using the tools they taught me."

Segundo teaches special education students at a public school in Seattle, where she is also raising her three children. She said she's enjoying the moment, but is now even more focused on accomplishing her next goals.

"This has been a lifelong dream," she said. "I have been wanting to write children's books since I was a child myself. I'm excited and motivated to get these other ones finished and out there."

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It's hard not to notice the changes in Darrell Norman's (Blackfeet) Browning, Montana art studio and gallery at the Lodgepole Gallery and Tipi Village.

Where there once was bad lighting, uncomfortable chairs and cluttered floor space is now an organized studio with a fresh coat of paint, shelving units, a workbench and comfortable seating.

"It is a great new studio and it is functioning beautifully," said Norman, who was able to make the changes this year through a First Peoples Fund Artist in Business Leadership Fellowship.

Norman, a Native artist from the Blackfeet tribe in Montana, has been creating contemporary and traditional art based on the Blackfeet design for 35 years. A past First Peoples Fund Community Spirit Award honoree, Norman makes and sells a wide variety of mixed media art forms, including drums, shields, hides and wood, stone, and bone sculptures.

Norman is a three-time Artist in Business Leadership fellow, a former Cultural Capital fellow, an honoree of the Montana Circle of American Masters, and an Outstanding Alumnus at North Seattle Community College.

"I needed this update to my studio," he said. Prior to the changes, some of his work sat on the floor because of the lack of space. "It was out of control."

The support from First Peoples Fund has changed the trajectory of his career, Norman said.

"My partnership with them is tremendously important, not only the funding, but the support they give you. It takes you to another step, up another level. It helps you with your productivity."

Being connected with the organization is a source of strength and pride, he added.

"Being associated with First Peoples Fund helps," he said. "It does a lot for your reputation."

Norman said he has greatly benefited from one of the organization's main goals—to bring Native artists together to encourage and share with each other.

"It's one of the greatest things," he said, because it is inspiring to meet with other Native artists who share the same passions. "Native artists are doing incredible things."

Norman said his work with First Peoples Fund has also given him a stronger voice in his community.

"The things they do to inspire people in their communities prolongs our traditional art forms," he said. "It contributes to the longevity of our culture."

Norman is now preparing for the busy summer tourist season—his gallery is just 15 miles from Glacier National Park. "My studio is right off the gallery, so people can come see me work," he said. "They see that it's nice and organized and it really does influence them."

To read more about Norman, visit his website at ww.blackfeetculturecamp.com.

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Our Nation’s Spaces Program brings artist and presenter together in Washington, D.C.

As soon as Carla Perlo saw a video of Rosy Simas dancing, her mind was made up.

"She's exquisite," said Perlo, who is the founding director of Dance Place in Washington, D.C. and was immediately convinced to apply for a First Peoples Fund Our Nation's Spaces grant so Simas could complete a residency at the studio.

For more than a year now, First Peoples Fund has partnered with The Ford Foundation to offer grants up to $20,000 to Diverse Arts Spaces grantees through the Our Nation's Spaces Program, and this new pairing of cultural institution and artist is one of the most recent recipients.

Simas said she approached Dance Place with the hope of a multiple-week residency.

"I think this program provides an incredible opportunity to both artists and presenters, as well as their audiences," said Simas, who is Seneca from the Cattaraugus Reservation in New York.

Simas will spend a week in D.C. early next year touring the area, spending time at the dance studio, making connections around the city and building support and awareness for her second residency, which will take place a couple months later and will include workshops and a production.

Simas said she was pleasantly surprised that First Peoples Fund selected a contemporary Native artist like herself to include in the program.

"There are not very many Natives in contemporary dance today," she said, "and it seems sometimes that traditional art forms are more often funded and supported. I was encouraged by First Peoples Fund to work with an organization and apply, but it was hard to find an arts center that would be a great fit. Then I found Dance Place."

Traditional artwork by Natives "is not static," Simas said. "This is part of a greater interest of mine. Having the non-Native community exposed to work by a contemporary Native artist is beneficial in changing the minds of what Native people make."

Perlo said the production, which includes Simas dancing in front of a film, will be stunning.

"The film makes it feel like we are on her homeland, it's just beautiful. It transports us to a different place. We're no longer in the theater... I was so taken by the juxtaposition of her against the film. I thought, 'Wow, that will be so beautiful and powerful."

Perlo said she also looks forward to introducing something new. Very few Native dancers approach the studio for shows.

"We have a 33-year history of presenting a wide variety of dance forms," she said. "In the city, performing arts can really help people understand cultures they don't understand. That's the biggest challenge—unfamiliarity. We get to confront that challenge head-on with this program."

At Dance Place, she said, audience members take in productions in the theater or the plaza.

"You're sitting there and you care less about where the person is from because you're just reacting to the power of art," she said. "You see people from very different cultures. You're inspired and moved and applauding. That never would have happened if just having a dialogue."

Race and ethnicity are removed, she said.

"Everybody gets chills, and says the artist is really talented," she said. "We drop that preface of where they're from, the color of the skin, the cultural background. Really, that's what bringing artists and performances to our space is about for me."

Simas said her work is not political or historical, though it does touch on themes of her ancestors.

It's the sense of being a part of something that is both a personal and a universal story," she said.

Perlo is grateful for the grant and hopes to work with more Native artists in the future.

"First Peoples Fund is such a great vehicle that helps us think about and identify artists to work with, and gives us the support we need to bring them to Washington because it's so expensive," she said. "In this funding climate, it's great that First Peoples stepped up and said we think this work is important."

Natives having a forum to have their voice heard will have an impact on society, she said.

"Otherwise, they're left out of the story," she said. "First Peoples Fund is a fantastic resource to say, 'Let's not let these voices be silent and let it be part of the American fabric.'"

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Former Ralph Lauren designer returns to her roots

Jhane Myers is trying to not only recreate a dress from her ancestors, but also to offer a glimpse of a time period.

Myers, who is from the Comanche/Blackfeet tribes of Santa Fe, New Mexico, is a doll maker, jeweler, regalia maker and designer, and a traditional buckskin dancer. And she's also one of this year's First Peoples Fund Artist in Business Leadership grantees.

Having made her mark in the fashion world—she studied fashion at The Art Institute of Dallas, and worked for designer Ralph Lauren—Myers plans to recreate a traditional Native recession dress.

"It was a symbol," she said. "It was war time; things were scarce. My grandparents talked to me about ration cards."

While the men were out to war, she said, there was no one back home to hunt and skin animals. Missionaries provided canvasses that were used for the tents during church meetings, and the Natives cut up the canvass and made dresses.

Myers wants to recreate one of the dresses, which by now have all but disappeared.

The project will also include a DVD that teaches about the time period and dress making, and include memories from the time period.

"This will be a big challenge for me," Myers said of the film, but it will add another important element and is another way for a Native artist to harness the tool of technology and media in their art. She will draw from the experience of others by using Comanche filmmakers, providing them with a stipend for their work on the film.

Her work provides work for other Native artists, who will spend part of their time filming stories by elders.

"It's blending the old with the new," she said. "It's just exciting."

Myers has been making dresses since the 1990s and is a fourth generation dressmaker, but this project will push her as an artist, she said.

"I just have this drive to complete this project," said Myers, who has started her research for the project by visiting the National Museum of American Indian at The Smithsonian.

"I worked in the collection for a day and it was amazing," she said.

Finding dresses from that time is an important, but difficult, part of her research. There is not a recession dress to view in any Southern Plains collection. There is one in Oklahoma on an army base, she said, but she hasn't been able to view it.

"For me, it's the first time in my career that I've done a statement piece. I'm so happy and pleased First Peoples Fund funded me."

The opportunity to capture the stories of her ancestors, and work with her hands to recreate a part of history is important in passing down the history and traditions to the next generation, she added.

"It's funding a legacy," she said. "It's something I can leave my children and grandchildren."

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It was far more than Charlie Hill’s ability to get an entire room laughing that made the stand-up comedian so influential, says longtime friend Jennifer Kreisberg.

“Nobody was doing what he did,” Kreisberg said from her home in Connecticut. “He took it way past fry bread and ‘booze’ jokes. He was so cutting-edge and always had a message in his humor.”

Those messages, along with his legacy, will be remembered and honored, say family and friends. Charlie Hill passed away December 30, 2013, at the age of 62 after a courageous battle with cancer.

“The Creator called Charlie back to the spirit world early this morning,” his family wrote on Facebook. “This is a sad and hard time for all of us.”

Hill, a member of the Oneida Tribe of Wisconsin, was a stand-up comedian, writer and actor who found success in mainstream media through shows including “Roseanne” and “The Jay Leno Show.” He made his national television debut on the “Richard Pryor Show” in 1977, and was the first Native American on the “Tonight Show with Johnny Carson.”

Two weeks before his death, Leno and Roseanne Barr helped host a fundraiser for Hill and his family to help cover medical expenses.

In 2012, First Peoples Fund honored Hill with a Community Spirit Award.

“Charlie’s story is one of hard work, persistence and following your passion in life, he was truly a pioneer for Native artists and his legacy will not be forgotten. It was an honor for me to have known him.”

- First Peoples Fund President Lori Pourier.

Hill raised four kids with his wife Leonora. It was through his family life, as much as his work, that Hill demonstrated integrity and commitment, said Kreisberg, a singer who met Hill while performing more than 15 years ago.

“He was really, really smart, very supportive and always respectful,” she said. “He was always respectful of women, really professional… and really ‘rez’ at the same time.”

Hill traveled from his home in Wisconsin to Los Angeles to work. Kreisberg said she has applied much of what he taught her, particularly his lessons about putting family first.

“He was good about mentoring,” she said. “When I was younger, he gave me advice on being a good parent.”

Though he was able to cross over into mainstream media, Hill was careful not to “sell out,” Kreisberg added.

“He had a really high bar that he set for himself,” she said. “He would not compromise his art for a buck. He opened doors for all of us.”

Mostly, Kreisberg added, she will miss him for the man he was.

“He was funny and kind,” she said. “Because of him, I will continue to carry myself in a certain way. I will put family first. And I will continue to remind people about him—especially all the smiles and laughs he gave.”

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If there was a message Phillip Whiteman Jr. and Lynette Two Bulls could impart to fellow Native Americans, it would be to remind them of their worth.

"We are teaching them that they're sacred and valuable," Whiteman said recently, following a Rapid City workshop the couple hosted to train leaders for their Medicine Wheel Model. They reside in Lame Deer, Montana.

The model, Whiteman said, is the original guide for life according to Native people.

"We believe in the circle of life and the seasons of life and that there is a reason and a season and a purpose for everything," he said.

The colors of the wheel—red, white, yellow and black—represent Mother Earth, he added, and everything is connected. The philosophy teaches that the energy people put out to the universe is reflected back to them.

The couple, who have received several First Peoples Fund grants, including a 2005 Cultural Capital Grant and a 2007 Artist in Business Leadership Fellowship, travel the country and world presenting the philosophy of the medicine wheel and how it can be used in organizations and in everyday life.

Their most recent work has included the training in Rapid City, one in Las Vegas and work on a new storytelling CD.

"People come together to learn how we're connected to everything—how we use our Indigenous life in ways to help others in the area of wellness," Two Bulls said.

Whiteman said the Rapid City workshop was a "huge success," and drew people from around the country as well as Canada. The workshop is attractive, he said, because it offers people a holistic approach to being.

"This work is a life model, not just a wellness model," he said. "We focus on the spirit—reconnecting and reclaiming it."

Lori Pourier, president of First Peoples Fund, said that Whiteman and Two Bulls are incredible examples of artists who are fulfilling the mission and vision of First Peoples Fund today.

"We feel very privileged to have had the opportunity to partner with them through our grant and fellowship programs so many years ago, and it has been wonderful to watch them develop their business and serve artists all across the country," she said.

The couple said First Peoples Fund has been a great supporter of their goals.

"They have helped us to protect our work, and to make sure that it is shared with others," Two Bulls said. She said First Peoples Fund guided them as they released their first CD. Today, the couple is starting their own certification program to help others teach the medicine wheel philosophy they teach.

"We both teach a holistic way of life," she said. "First Peoples Fund sees the value of family and working together. So do we."

Whiteman said that through the Medicine Wheel Model, they are passing on an important message for others.

"There are seeds being planted," he said. "We're not teachers, but we're a vessel to carry the message. Native Americans can't afford to think within a box—in lines and corners. That would be devastating to our culture, to our people."

To learn more, visit http://www.medicinewheelmodel.com/.

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Last month, First Peoples Fund learned about the passing of 2008 Community Spirit Award recipient Margaret Hill. This month, e-Spirit spoke with artists impacted by Hill to talk about how her legacy still lives on today.

There are moments—like when she is working late at night beading a dress or altering a pattern—that the voice of mentor Margaret Hill echoes in Sandra Blake's head.

"I keep hearing her say, 'Rip it... do it again,'" Blake said, laughing. "If something wasn't perfect, she would have made me take the seams out and do it again. I think about that quite often."

Hill's persistence, quality work and deep commitment to her tribe and culture have not been forgotten with her passing. Hill passed away May 27, 2009, at the age of 80.

She was a member of the Mille Lacs Band of Ojibwe in Minnesota, and was a First Peoples Fund Community Spirit Award honoree in 2008.

"She touched many people in the community and larger statewide area with her artwork and knowledge," Blake said. "It was a great loss for the community when she passed."

Her traditional artwork included birchbark/sweetgrass, beading and leather, but Blake said she was skilled at so many things, including sewing and tanning. Storytelling was also a skill she had honed over the years through her work with children in tribal schools. Hill also taught traditional crafts for the Minnesota Historical Society's Mille Lacs Indian Museum and Trading Post.

A year before her passing, Hill said she was humbled and honored to continue the traditions of her ancestors:

"Creating quality art reflects directly back onto my people and community as well as myself," she wrote in her application for the Community Spirit Award. "I am happy that my work helps to represent my people in a quality way."

Blake said spending time with Hill always meant gaining a deeper understanding of tradition.

"She was my mother's cousin and we both learned a lot from her," she said.

Hill had a way of weaving history and traditional lessons into her work with the community, Blake said.

"Very casually and unexpectedly, her teachings of sacredness and value would come out in her words and actions while making different pieces," Blake added. "She may be tracing out a pattern on birchbark and talking about keeping the edges off of the knots in the bark and she will go into a story about the Old People. You knew you were always going to come away with more than just the knowledge of how to make an item."

Blake said she hopes to honor Hill by continuing to learn from other elders in the community, and by practicing the traditions passed on by Hill, which was one of the lessons she always embodied.

"I learned a lot of stuff, but when you don't practice it, you forget it," she said.

Jodell Meyer, who also nominated Hill for the Community Spirit Award, said she was a teacher, mentor, best friend and co-worker.

"She was open and honest," Meyer said. "She filled me with knowledge and never gave up on me."

Meyer said she too is determined to continue the traditions and skills Hill taught her. Her warmth and generosity is missed, she added.

"She was a self reliant person who understood the values of being strong and independent. She never asked for anything and was always extremely generous with what she had."

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It was a dream that first settled into Juliana Clifford's mind that led to the vivid and poignant scene in Scatter Their Own's newest music video.

Juliana, a lyricist, bass and acoustic guitar player for the band, makes up half of the South Dakota duo Scatter Their Own. Her husband, Scotti Clifford, is a singer/songwriter and guitar player in the band, which hails from the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation.

The band has just come off a six-concert promotional tour in California, and recently released a music video for their "Taste the Time" song.

Scotti said he wrote the song to remind people to be aware of their environment.

"We can't drink from the streams, rivers or lakes anymore," he said. "It's been that way for 60 or 70 years. Those are the times we live in. We live in an unhealthy world."

The band was formed almost three years ago and, through a First Peoples Fund Artist in Business Leadership Fellowship, was able to purchase instruments and work on an album.

After Scotti wrote "Taste the Time," Juliana had a dream. In it, she was very thirsty and approached a table of people who offered her cups of water. When she drank, the liquid turned into oil and she had to spit it out.

"We were able to bring that dream to life with the music video," Scotti said.

The video was shot in August and was directed by Juliana and William White II.

"We shot it in three days," Scotti said, who also said it went smoothly because of the generous support of friends and family who came out to offer food and serve as extras in the video.

They are not the only ones feeling grateful for the local support—and the partnership with First Peoples Fund. Native hip hop artist Frank Waln recently released a music video for his song "AbOriginal." Waln, a 2012 Artist in Business Leadership Fellow, lives in Chicago where he attends Columbia College and writes and performs Lakota hip hop music.

Waln received a technical assistance grant through First Peoples Fund and hired director Eli Vasquez to work with him.

"It was a perfect fit," Waln said, as Vasquez is also an activist and interested in working on projects with a message. Vasquez was also onboard with the idea that the video, a five-minute "theatrical short story," should focus on the positive aspects of the reservation.

"I wanted to show the beauty of home—the side I see... the side we see," he said. "It's the side you don't see in mainstream media today."

The song is focused on Waln's experience moving from the reservation to the big city, a place where he felt isolated as he met so many people with incorrect stereotypes of Native Americans.

"It made me angry," he said.

But it didn't take long for him to realize that anger wasn't healthy.

"Love. Love for my music, love for people, love for family, love for my culture," he said, was the way to move on. "Being fueled by foolish things like anger can be very poisonous."

Waln's music video can be seen on YouTube here. It was also recently featured on "mtvU," a show Waln said he used to sit and watch.

"It's surreal," he said.

Scatter Their Own's new music video can also be found on YouTube here and their music is available on iTunes.

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David Boxley is giving his students the one thing he never had—a devoted teacher.

Boxley, a First Peoples Fund 2013 Cultural Capital grantee, 2012 Community Spirit Award recipient and Tsimshian carver from Metlakatla, Alaska, spent two months this summer guiding students through a hands-on workshop to learn the Native Northwest Coast design techniques.

The workshop, which ran six hours a day once a week for eight weeks, was held in Washington, where Boxley resides and creates art, including boxes, rattles, masks and prints bearing the traditional Northwest Coast design.

It’s an opportunity he never had growing up.

“I’m basically self-taught,” he said.

Boxley was raised by his grandparents, who passed along the culture and language of the tribe. After graduating from college, Boxley became a teacher and spent lots of time researching the traditional carving methods of his ancestors through museum collections.

In 1986, Boxley decided to work on the art form full time, and left his teaching job. He has since become an established, nationally recognized Native artist, as well as a voice in his community for the resurgence of the Sm'algyax language and the Tsimshian culture.

“There’s a lot of awareness now about the art, culture and language. It’s really important to me. I would very much like to be remembered as a culture bearer, not just an artist.”

He also hopes to teach more—and learn more.

“I’m always excited to look at museums and collections,” he said. “I’ve never lost my enthusiasm for creating art in our tribe. I’m still young enough to learn.”

One of the dangers for artists is ceasing the desire to be challenged, he said. “The problem is once people start selling, they don’t try to improve,” he said.

The Northwest Coast design, in particular, is complicated and takes years to learn, he added. “The rules we follow are pretty specific,” he said. “You have to learn the style so that knowledge of the art is perpetuated.”

Boxley, who said it does get lonely sometimes as a working artist, has been encouraged by the First Peoples Fund.

“It is good to know there is a Native-based organization wanting to further strengthen the aspirations of guys like me,” he said.

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It wasn’t only technical skills that Wade Fernandez gained during his time at a recent master recording workshop.

“It gave me permission to be me,” he said, an epiphany he experienced when one of the professors complimented his work.

Fernandez, an enrolled member of the Menominee Tribe in Wisconsin and an accomplished musician, music and video producer, completed several music classes as a fellow of the First Peoples Fund Artist in Business Leadership program and a recipient of the Rural Business Enterprise grant.

Fernandez, who was a 2010 Community Spirit Award recipient and 2011 Cultural Capital grantee, has spent several years working to preserve the Menominee language by incorporating it in his music. The classes he took—lyric writing, master recording and music marketing—were insightful and exciting, Fernandez said, and especially helpful for a boost of confidence.

The recording class gave him an opportunity to work directly with producers who have worked alongside musicians including Sting, Steely Dan, and Vince Gill. He was familiar with several of the skills the producers taught.

“It’s helped me to not be so critical of myself. Perfectionism has slowed me down. You get more critical as your ear becomes better and the vision of what you want becomes clearer.”

During the lyric writing class, Fernandez worked on strengthening his skills in the side of music production that challenges him.

“My strength has always been the melodies,” he said. “Marrying that with writing has always been a mystery. It was nice to focus on the lyrics.”

Fernandez draws inspiration not only from his culture, but also from his family. Raising five children between the ages of six and 13 keeps him busy—and focused.

“Kids have given me inspiration and made me more grounded,” he said. One of his most recent music videos includes his son. The production was completed as a result of the classes he took.

“First Peoples Fund has helped support my music and my art and helps me support my community,” he said.

In addition to the classes supported by First Peoples Fund, Fernandez has been able to purchase equipment that he has used to create documentaries for his community about health, nutrition, pollution and diabetes.

“It’s been a great, and important, part of my work,” he said.    

Visit www.wadefernandez.com to learn more about Fernandez or hear his music.

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For Duane Goodwin, there is no better way to start a day of rock sculpting than very early in the morning—in the cool of the shade.

"It is messy and it is hard work," said Goodwin, who is a renowned Native artist and one of this year's First Peoples Fund Cultural Capital grantees. "But it is wonderful work—a wonderful challenge to see something in the rock, and bring the spirit out of the rock."

Goodwin shared his passion and expertise with community members this summer as part of the Cultural Capital program, first conducting a birch bark basketmaking workshop in June and then a stone carving workshop in July.

Goodwin, who is a full-time professor at Leech Lake Tribal College in Minnesota and also received a Community Spirit Award from First Peoples Fund last year, said the grant program has encouraged him to continue with his art.

"I've been teaching since 1973," he said, and it is a challenge to find the time and energy to do his sculpting on the side. After more than 40 years of sculpting rock, he said, the workshops reminded him of his passion for the art form.

"It's given me more inspiration to do it fulltime," he said, which is a possibility with retirement in the future.

The birch bark workshop taught students the traditional strategy of gathering materials from the woods.

"Today they are using more synthetic fibers to sew baskets," he said. "My objective was to get them to use all natural materials again."

Students were also taught about one of the best ways to make a sturdy, attractive basket, which involves stripping and steaming ash bark to form hoops for the basket frame.

"There's a lot of preparation, but the end result is a very sturdy basket. The old style is more authentic, stronger and has more aesthetic value."

During the stone carving workshop, Goodwin elected to only work with four students, who he described as "motivated and interested."

"They were easy to connect with, they listened and they were familiar with the tools," he said, which made it easy for him to share his private collection of resources and tools with them. The students learned about the geology of rocks, selected a rock from Goodwin's collection and spent three hours a day for two weeks carving.

Working hand-in-hand with students who have a desire to learn is inspirational, he said.

"I couldn't have done it without the grant," he said. "It was a good experience to share what I know and it is an opportunity to build an appreciation for the arts."

He carried that new energy with him recently as he worked on a new sculpture carved out of a rare piece of rock.

"The source of the rock is exhausted and I got one last piece," he said. "It is a beautiful, yellow golden color."

After studying it for several days, his idea emerged. He is carving two eagles, a crow, and a crane out of the 80-pound rock. And when he is done, he will turn to another project.

"I don't take breaks," he said. "I just want to keep producing sculpture after sculpture after sculpture."

There was no better way for First Peoples Fund to honor Susan Malutin than to take the time to travel to the very place where she is having such an impact.

Malutin was honored recently in a Jennifer Easton Community Spirit Award ceremony at the Native Village of Afognak's Dig Afognak Camp Site in Alaska.

"They had to fly to Kodiak Island and then take a skiff across the bay into the Afognak camp," said Malutin. "It made me feel so good that they would put that effort in to come all that way."

Malutin was not the only award recipient to experience an honoring ceremony close to home.

Community Spirit Award ceremonies were also held in North Dakota, in honor of Georgianna Houle, and in Maine, in honor of Watie Akins, over the past two months. They joined fellow honorees Denise Lajimodiere, Cyril Lani Pahinui, Vicky Takamine, who were honored in Hawaii this summer.

The awards are given to recognize the exceptional passion, wisdom and purpose the recipients bring to their art and the communities they serve.

"The resolve and determination shown by each of the individuals to pass down Native traditions touches us in ways that are often difficult to express," said Lori Pourier, president. "It was a joy to meet each of these recipients personally and to be among them in their communities."

Akins, a member of the Abenaki in the Northeast, has focused much of his life's recent work on restoring and passing along the Penobscot Nation's traditional songs through research, recordings, apprenticeship programs and work with local school students. Some of his family was able to attend the ceremony, which at times brought tears to his eyes.

"I thought the whole ceremony was good, every part was a touching experience."

The star quilt blanket, which is given to each CSA honoree, was a special gift, Akins said. He hopes that the attendees of the ceremony—particularly young people in his community—were inspired by the energy and resources available to them to move forward with cultural revitalization.

"I hope they get into it," he said.

The ceremony to honor Georgianna Houle was held in her hometown of Belcourt, North Dakota. Houle, who is a member of the Turtle Mountain Band of Chippewa, first learned to weave red willow baskets at the age of nine while watching her mother and grandmother. She has spent several years visiting local schools and community colleges, teaching children and adults how to weave the baskets.

She hopes to continue teaching and selling the baskets and is one of several artists who will teach at the Turtle Mountain Tribal Arts Association's new location in Belcourt.

Malutin, who has spent the last 30 years mastering the lost art of traditional skin sewing, has been credited with helping revitalize the Native culture and art of the Alutiiq people—a movement that that has rejuvenated elders and prompted the building of a Native museum.

She has traveled to countries all over the world to research Native pieces of clothing and artifacts from the island and spends time working with village schools to teach skin sewing and other Native traditions. She also spends time at the Afognak site several times a year to help teach at Native educational camps.

The honoring ceremony for her was intimate and beautiful, Malutin said.

"The whole camp was there and it was an amazing experience," she said.

Because the ceremony was at the camp, and not in town, the students were able to attend and felt comfortable to speak.

"These are normally shy kids," Malutin said. "But you become like a family here, and they were brave enough to talk about how I interacted in their lives. That was the greatest reward for me."

Malutin also felt a validation for her work, and a resurgence of energy to continue.

"I felt that yes, I am leaving my footprint in the culture," she said.

Uncertainty and self-doubt about whether she was teaching the traditions correctly, or instructing the students in a way that would encourage and challenge them, have always been in the back of her mind, she said.

"We have so few elders who remember how to do the parkas or how to sew skins," she said, and it was always her fear that she wasn't demonstrating it correctly, or making a difference in the lives of the people in her community.

The ceremony changed that, she said, especially after hearing from the students.

"It was such a family-oriented ceremony and I could see that we do have a really vibrant Native community here, and we are passing it down to the next generations."

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