Liberation is an Active Practice
My fourth interview is with…
Alfred Walking Bull (he/they), a Queer Sioux storyteller and culture-changing communications professional. Read on to learn how their work is rooted in their values of equity, sovreignty, recovery, autonomy, and liberation.
“So when I say stories and culture: the stories we tell ourselves and each other impact the culture we get to have, and the other way around, too. When you’re in a group dynamic, you have to inventory the stories you’re being told and telling, and start to pull that apart, and THEN you get to see how they relate to the culture that’s being built. ”
CVs, descriptions of our work, elevator pitches, longer pitches, and much more, all trying to tell a cohesive and engaging story about our who, what, and why. Often, we update these stories multiple times, changing them to fit the needs of different audiences.
Tell me about yourself, and if possible, please tell me a story of yourself beyond the work you do.
“One of the biggest parts of who I am goes back to where I was raised- a small tribal community called Upper Cut Meat on the Rosebud reservation in South Dakota, in this community mostly made up of family and people who’ve been related longer than you can remember. And there’s one highway that goes through- US Hwy 18. The way I was brought into the world was in as close to a valley as you can get on the prairie. One creek runs through. My reckoning of the world is rooted in that place.
When I orient myself, I orient to that place, and consider north, south, east, west out of that orientation. When I talk to people and ask where they are from, and they answer- you know, California, whatever- I always think about myself facing those directions from where I grew up in that community. It’s the most descriptive way I can think of to talk about myself, as orienting to that culture.
There was nothing harmful or traumatic about the way I grew up. It’s just how I grew up. My mom told me, ‘English is your second language, Lakota is your first. We taught you English because we had to get you ready to go to school.’ And I thought- that’s why things don’t make sense!
We had ceremonies at certain times of year, lots of ways of interacting throughout the year that shape how I orient. My centering is rooted in that, in those ways. That’s why when I talk about things like my relationship with time, it’s weird. My relationship with time is generational. We would talk about what had to get done and how that takes priority. What the priorities were are not always connected to clock or calendar time. When you grow up with stories of your ancestors handed down, and you ask [of a story], ‘When was this?’ And are told, ‘Oh, that was your great, great, great grandfather, that was back in the early 1800s.’ When I think about the way I grew up, it was rooted in that.
I don’t always fit in in places. I think that’s why, because of my upbringing. After my upbringing as I was a young adult, I thought about going east, going eastward to the Twin Cities from my home. That’s how I think about myself- I’m a kid from the rez, I’m a rez kid. Most things I do are exciting to me, sometimes terrifying, and I think as long as I keep orienting to that movement, and I track my movement, then I know who I am.”
Another part of your story is what you do. I’ll bet you’re often asked that question so people can learn about the work you do through your business.
Please tell me about your work, including how long you’ve been doing it and where you offer it, and what the germinating seed of your idea was that caused you to start creating this work.
“So my LLC is called Walking Bull Story & Culture- that was the nicest way I could think of when I started it in 2016 to encapsulate all the things I do. I was working at PFund when I started this [business] and as the communications person I was tasked with telling the story of the scholars (those who consented) of their journey with PFund. We would give the scholars their stories afterward; it was one of our ethical guidelines.
I started holding storytelling sessions. It started off as me using my campaign training. When I was a field organizer, we were taught, and we in turn taught other volunteers, how to tell their stories. That was with Barack Obama’s campaign, and his stories were centered on hope, change and had all that iconography. The field is where we built the groundswell of support, and that’s because we were trained to tell our stories and relate.
There were three elements that went into this storytelling- who you are, one challenge you’re facing now, and how supporting this candidate is a solution to your challenges, how that’s helping you or others to organize about these challenges. It was a solutions-based narrative. And I thought- we (at PFund) could use this for scholars who are getting education to start their business or whatever work they were going into. I did this with one class of scholars.
Then in the foundation (PFund) we started to really shift what we were doing in philanthropy. In 2016, philanthropy thought LGBTQIA+ people were fine because we had marriage- what more could we need? So at PFund we worked with a marketing consultant to find out how what we were saying was ineffective. We were using a lot of -isms (racism, sexism, etc.) to describe all the oppressions we were facing as LGBTQ+ people. That was an overload for a lot of people in philanthropy. They’d say gay people- what do you really need?! A colleague said, ‘You can’t feed steak to a baby.’ So we were speaking to our [LGBTQ+] community for fundraising and that was going well, but when we talked to other foundations and funders using the language that we used with community, they were like- well, that’s systemic, so what’s different about you?
In working with another consultant, I worked on framework methodology- how to talk about the isms without naming the oppressions [directly]. Start talking about what it is. That’s when I got into messaging hardcore. We all went to college and did our capstone and went on to comms jobs etc., but, you know, how are we actually talking about the issues in our jobs in a way that’s unique? So we [at PFund] started talking about it using information. As in, queer youth are more likely to be homeless or unhoused; this issue impacts LGBTQ+ youth at a higher rate. Funders were then like, ‘What?! Tell me more!’
You can give people lots of info and data and statistics but that doesn’t help. We used the intercultural development inventory (IDI), and that helped us move from the details and information to being able to tell stories that helped us and people we were trying to get funding from not get stuck in information overload, in analysis paralysis.
You know, talking about pronouns happened in 2017-18, and we started to talk about that within philanthropy. We designed a course for other philanthropists that was five months long, and at the end of that, the action they were willing to take was putting pronouns in email sigs. And we were like, how do we get them to actually fund this work?!
And through all of that, I was like, oooohh, this is useful for Indigenous folk, for BIPOC folk; I get to use this too. So when I say stories and culture: the stories we tell ourselves and each other impact the culture we get to have, and the other way around, too. When you’re in a group dynamic, you have to inventory the stories you’re being told and telling, and start to pull that apart, and THEN you get to see how they relate to the culture that’s being built. You get to do it without being overt- this is how you talk about white supremacy. When I talk about the October 11 holiday, this is how I get to talk about that day as being about Indigenous identity and history. That is how I work on various issues, and little by little, I get to work with organizations, help retell stories, do SWOT analysis, and figure out culture change.”
“When we talk about liberation, it’s an active process. I didn’t come to it until probably six years ago. I don’t go around saying I’m liberated...if I believe in sovereignty and autonomy, that means people get to be free, get to decide what they want to do. That was when I began to understand the willingness to let go of control”
It’s one thing to explain what you do, but a whole different thing for you to convey the why behind your work.
What are your values that keep driving you to create this work?
“Equity, sovereignty, autonomy, liberation. Recovery is part of that for me. I talk about my recovery - oh, my god, it’s going to be 11 years! Maybe.It's been over a decade.
I think about all of this- and say I wouldn’t have been able to do any of this if I didn’t understand the process of doing something harmful, and saying why did I do this? Doing rigorous self-examination.
And regarding equity- different people get different things based on their different needs, that’s what equity means. And being able to say that. People ask me, “What would an actionable land back step for you?” I say, ‘What would be really nice,’ if I’m living in my liberation, ‘I really think it’s stupid for Indigenous people to pay for housing. We gave you this entire country and we still have to pay rent? There aren’t that many of us left so it wouldn’t do a number on your national budget. And I would like to park for free on my own land.’ People say, ‘But then everyone would have to do that!’ And I remind them, no- not everyone. That’s what equity is.
And for Black people who are descendents of [enslaved people]- I experience racism but what they experience is a totally different form of inequity. And the way my Black colleagues have to interact with the world is a totally different experience. It’s where I get so angry and sad at the same time- I just want to hit something- but then I remind myself they’ve been experiencing this their whole life, and they’re dealing with it. So I don’t have to hit something. I can learn how to deal with it, too. And work for equity.
Sovereignty, to me, means people can do what they please without a lot of scrutiny.
Autonomy is the right to do what you want with your body, especially for women and trans folks, without being told what to do with it. I got really angry about this back in 2017, and I said to a woman friend, Trina, ‘How do you deal with this?!’ and she said, ‘We deal with it, we figure out how to deal with it.’ When I was going on PrEP in 2017, I had to educate the nurse about the medication, and she got weird. She started asking me if I have a lot of sex, and if I wanted to talk with someone about that, to be connected with a mental health professional. That was just a little sprinkle [of what others have to deal with].
No, we’re for sovereignty, autonomy, equity, liberation and recovery.
That is all rooted in tribal sovereignty for me. The Marshall Trilogy [three U.S. Supreme Court cases] defined tribal nations as domestic dependent nations. What that meant was that we have the right to make our own laws and have self determination. This all started in Georgia, and with the Trail of Tears. The Cherokee nation was being rode roughshod by the Georgia government who wanted Cherokee lands. This case went to the [U.S.] Supreme Court, and the Court, Chief Justice Marshall in the 1830’s, said essentially, nope, Cherokee people get to do what they want. Andrew Jackson made this decision, now let him enforce it. And he took the land anyhow.
When we talk about liberation, it’s an active process. I didn’t come to it until probably six years ago. I don’t go around saying I’m liberated. I talk about it like this: I remember when I used to have big feelings about the way other brown folks listened to their music in public, and my thing was I don’t want the cops to come get you, I don’t want the cops to come get you, you need to turn it down. Now I think about it as, oh, that was before I understood that if I believe in sovereignty and autonomy, that means people get to be free, get to decide what they want to do. That was when I began to understand the willingness to let go of control. That’s rooted in recovery. It’s not that control isn’t good, but control of others- that’s when it’s not good. I learned to let go of controlling others. When I was in active addiction, I had a lot of opinions about the right and wrong way to do things. I had to learn that’s not about them, that’s about you (me). I ask myself, why did you have a big feeling about that? What expectations did you have? Now we’re going to write about that impact. Most of the time [I write] about how it made me feel, and ask, what was my part in it? That [process] really helped me to get clear. Now when I have an expectation where I think I need to control others, I think about it and realize I need to go through my process and ask, why did I have that expectation?
When I think about liberation…it’s not that no one's in charge, it’s not anarchy. It’s about interdependence, as in I’ll do for you, you do for me.
Sovereignty, autonomy, equity, liberation and recovery: these are why and where I’m rooted in the work that I do.”
We are creative entrepreneurs in a hard, hard world. It takes dedication and commitment to care for ourselves, and a practice of vulnerability to allow others to care for us, all in the effort to find some kind of peace in our lives while we go on doing what we love.
What are your practices of vulnerability that allow you to be cared for by others? What are some examples of how you care for yourself, and how you receive care from other people?
“One of [my] vulnerability practices comes from recovery, and means being rigorously honest with myself. I don’t need to do that- be rigorously honest with other people- but I do that with me.
I had a client at the end of last year, and they were fairly demanding. The circumstances weren’t great and the long-term contract had been renegotiated at least once. The client held the contract up as the guiding star, the guiding principle of our relationship. The executive director of the group went out of the country for an end of year vacation, and they hadn’t paid their bill- and it was a significant bill, it had been several months since they made a payment. I was like- they haven’t paid this month, they haven’t paid last month, they haven’t paid since…and they are also violating the terms of their own contract. [The contract] says they would pay these payments at a certain time, and they hadn’t done that. And this was an organization led by women of color.
I had to be calm- they would get to it when they get to it. Then, it was the end of the year and there was this gap, and I realized oh- I won’t have any money to pay my bills for like, 2 weeks. I had to threaten legal action, etc., and that was not a great place to be with this client. But I did a fundraiser, and without using names [of the client], I shared about the situation and asked my friends to send me $20, $15, $5, whatever they could, and I would be really grateful. Within a day I had more than enough to meet my needs. And they [who donated] were all indigenous women, queer people, people of color, and I had to remind myself- when we’re vulnerable and we say what we need, the universe of people around you are willing to help you, and you just have to put yourself in their care.
That was another act of liberation. I had to let go of the idea that I was self-sufficient, that I should have done better, etc. Nobody gave me advice, chastised me, etc. A lawyer friend even offered their services! Vulnerability as a continued act is tied to liberation. It was my willingness to accept what people had to offer. That vulnerability happens when I’m honest with myself. I could have [lied to myself], said I could do it on my own, and not been okay.
Vulnerability is part of recovery. When I’m going to meetings, and when I’m in my home group, and I can be able to say- like, my relationship with Catholicism is going to be an ongoing struggle, so I just have to honor some promises and deal with it. My family chose to bring me up that way. So I tell people, my Catholicism isn’t what I believe in, it’s not my religion, it is the place I go when I need the magic. So I do the thing, say the words, bring what I have to god and say: I can’t deal with this anymore. To the god of Abraham, god of my parents, I give it over- I can’t do this. You show me what to do with this. And within hours or days, it shows up, the answers show up. So I think about that vulnerability as being the place I go to get answers. It’s helpful.”
Another thing that we need to talk about are those fierce boundaries that we need to have in place in order to show up at our fullest and tap into our creativity.
What is an example of a boundary you’ve put in place, and how does that boundary allow you to create both work and hope in your life?
“Boundaries for me are always new- by the time I realize I need them I’ve probably gone out of practice. When my mom was going through Al Anon in the late [19]90s, the shift was- well, as a teenager, the bratty way I was, she had strong boundaries when I was getting bratty. I was like mom’s being mean. But that was her way of saying I’m not dealing with you today!
For me a boundary is usually about how another person behaves. That's the hardest thing to come to when you’re rooted in liberation, sovereignty and autonomy, that’s how I know that those values have edges. When they bump up against me I realize, okay, that’s the limit of your autonomy, when it’s causing me some strain that I have to work around.
So I think, for folks who came from family or cultural dynamics where it was considered rude or impolite to say something publicly, where confrontation was not valued, we have this mechanism, we can just grit our teeth, buckle down and we’ll figure it out eventually. I realized, oh, when I’m doing that, I”m not just buckling myself in, I’m confining myself. I have to behave in a certain way and I can’t move freely. When it comes to making room for other people and trying to accommodate them, accommodation only goes so far with me. And now it’s really constricting, so rather than you bumping up against me all the time, I’ll create the boundary- you over here, me over here- and that boundary can last a minute, an hour, a day, a lifetime, however long it needs to.
As a person of color I had to get comfortable in the work I do and with my clients, with not letting people have complete access to me. That was very, very hard. Most people, when they hire you for work or you have a contract [what’s in the contract is] the baseline, and they want you to go over and above. They’ll send an email at 9:00 AM and ask why I haven’t responded yet. I’ve had to get good at listening to them and saying, ‘I don’t think I’m a match for you. Here’s someone I think you would work with well.’ A colleague who is more flexible. These boundaries limit me in some ways. But I don’t do anymore the working all night and pretending I got up at 6:00 am and emailed them. I used to do that, but those [patterns] create a weird dynamic; the [client will] want you to then have a conversation at 6:00 am. So I don’t do those things anymore.
I had a really good, practically inseparable friend in early recovery. We were the best of friends. We fell into this pattern. I looked at my social media and realized, that happens every three months. This friend would take a week or two weeks off from our friendship, but it would be a really punitive week off. It became more of a point that this friend was trying to make at me. Like, you’re not an actual friend, I have other friends, better friends. They’d go to drag shows, concerts, etc., and post about their good time. And I would be in this two week gap [with them] and be like, oh, well I’m going to just keep going to work and doing what I have to do. And in the end it got really punitive, [where they were] blocking me on facebook, blocking calls, etc. At the end of those three months, I would get a gift- a dinner, etc., and the friend would apologize…say this is who I am, you know how I get. At the end I got a silver picture frame! I was like, this is nice!
When my parents were not doing well at the end of their lives- and they were wonderful parents! They probably should have been divorced but they were wonderful parents, but they sometimes didn't get along. This is how they would relate during those difficult times. They wouldn’t talk to each other. Then they would make up. And I really looked at this and was like, oh, this is codependency. And that really screwed me up. And so I started to say to this friend, “That’s mean. That doesn’t feel good,” when they would do or say things. And they started to block me. They kicked me out of the friend group.
Now, mutual friends will tell me they’re [this friend] doing great, etc. I’m glad [this person] has found the people and the things that work for [them] now. I truly am. You fake it until you make it- but now it’s real. It’s a boundary I’ve put in place for my health and well being. And I really can’t go back. You know sometimes you think you can go back- just like riding a bike! But this old shoe needed to be replaced. This was working my last nerve. This bike really needed to be replaced. I think of a boundary as something that is useful; hard, but something that can do something for me, as opposed to a punishment or isolation. Freedom!”
“It’s not a utopia, it’s a way to interrupt the way we currently try to do things for groups of people. The pithy [phrase] for it is deconstructing christian hegemony. That’s the root of it...When I think about this future, I think we’re willing to try something else...Something messy, and to see what works and what doesn’t.”
As a creative entrepreneur, I am working towards our collective future. I know that despite the immense number of challenges we are facing right now and in the coming years, we absolutely can join together to create a world where the earth, creatures, land, and people are resourced and thriving. I know my work fits into that future. You’ve got a big vision for the world and that is part of why you do what you do, too.
Please tell me some stories about the world you envision and how your work relates to creating those changes.
“The big things that we’re just now coming out of- the global pandemic, the uprising after George Floyd was murdered… You know, I gauge where other people are based on the memes they share on social media. One I’ve seen says, ‘I would like to not live through such historic times anymore- thank you.’
I think human beings are naturally optimistic creatures. As different cultures adapted we have a shared desire to look forward, whether in anxiety, hope or in a planning way. We always think there’s going to be a tomorrow. Statistically, given this world- that’s a really optimistic way to look at things!
We’ve inherited things, we’re dealing with things that got punted down the road. Genocide, war, climate change, murder of Black people, land back, all of these things that are impacting us. The can has been kicked to us and we’re opening it up and seeing what’s in there. Everything is escaping and it’s hard to have a sense of: what kind of world do we want?
For now, we have a kind of breathing room. I relate to politics; politics are a good thermometer of where, collectively, folks in this country are. When I think of things now, like going to the DNC, everyone’s really excited! There is a lot of energy in the room now! That tells me there is a lot of pent up energy that folks were keeping held. This is an inflection point.
What kind of world do I want to see? What kind of world for queer folks? Baseline- we would like to survive. For others, it’s a place of wonder, where we’re breaking down gender binaries and letting people live as they want, etc. For me, the trap that presents itself sometimes, when we’re in that visioning space, is that we think things are predicated on one particular circumstance or dynamic.
What I mean: [for instance] when we talk about healthcare, people say, ‘If we were more like Sweden, more like Norway, more like Scandinavian countries, we’d have better healthcare.’ That’s silver bullet thinking. An exceptionalist narrative, and it has existed as long as people have had the ability to flatten complex ideas. Scandinavian countries are usually 85% Christian, that’s why they agree on ideas. My friend Christina says in Norway you’re baptized into the church of Norway, whether you want to be or not.
In my middle age I go back to the garden analogy: when you have a good garden that interlocks with different crops and ecosystems, now that’s a really beautiful ecosystem. Some plants are big, some are small, some plants are there for the long-term or some are only blooming a few weeks.
I think about the world I want to create and I go back to the culture I was raised in. Part of it was insular and homogenous, but everybody has a place. Everyone has a role, something they can do, can contribute in different ways. Even the elders- they were our elders- they were taken care of. Not a burden. It is an honor to care for an elder. The disabled, or folks who weren’t able to contribute physically, they weren’t kicked out because of that. Ella [Cara] Deloria’s Waterlily [book]; I go back to it and end up crying by the third page. It’s all the culture I grew up in. People who had nothing had something. People who were elderly or disabled had their own needs met by the community because the community would make extra for them.
I think about that kind of world where the slogan is something-something-abolish capitalism. You know? Something really flippant and pithy. But the way I think about it is: my work really is going in and saying let’s take inventory of all the things you were taught about academics, business, nonprofits, philanthropy, etc., and ask ourselves, ‘How are these ideas rooted in exceptionalism?’ By the time people get to the point when they’re like, I can exist and don’t have to be the best in my field- this goes back to vulnerability- if you can exist and say I’m not the best, I need help here and there, then you can exist in vulnerability within our community. Then we have not a blueprint, but a new pattern of behavior.
When we see an encampment of homeless people in Minneapolis, we are slowly getting there in our understanding. [Such as] don’t call the cops right away. We are seeing even if we give [homeless folks] everything they need, that doesn’t take the place of being there with them. That they are human beings. In my perfect world it's not that we don’t have unsheltered folks, it’s that they have people there with them.
Downstairs, there is a person who is a neighbor, maybe an unsheltered neighbor, and who has arguments with people we can’t see. Sometimes it goes on until 3:00 am. I have to remind myself, he is a neighbor. I’m never going to call the cops on him, but I will call 311. I will call for a mental health crisis response. We’ve done that three times. Each time he comes back, it's not that he's better, it's that he understands that he is amongst neighbors who do care. And the thing is, he’s not panhandling, not bothering anyone. I walk by him almost every day. He just sits there, and now, when there’s no one there, when you’re a little past him, he has the argument and you can hear what he is saying. He knows there are boundaries to his being present. So when I think about the future, we have the places for him to exist when he chooses to exist in them, and when he's ready to try something a little more gentle with himself, those places exist, we have those places ready for him.
It’s not a utopia, it’s a way to interrupt the way we currently try to do things for groups of people. The pithy [phrase] for it is deconstructing christian hegemony. That’s the root of it. This country, in its puritanical Christian roots, believes if you’re not a certain way you’re worth being punished in the name of god. That’s gotten softer over centuries but there is still that root. A belief that if you’re not going to correct [yourself], we’ll get together and help you correct [yourself]. This is especially aimed at queer folks, trans people, people of color, Black people- any group of people who are not white, Christian, male.
When I think about this future, I think we’re willing to try something else aside from Deuteronomy, something besides Ephesians. Something messy, and to see what works and what doesn’t.”
“I have encouragement, I have relatives and ancestors who are making a big noise somewhere. When I need encouragement I think of that.”
On a tough day, who or what do you turn to for encouragement?
“I think about my mother. She would always say- when things were pretty bad, she’d make a meal and say, ‘And we’re survivors.’ Yes, that’s what we are!
But I also think about where I grew up. In the culture I grew up in, there are different kinds of songs and one, called the encouragement song. It’s sung for people usually when they’re at a memorial or have experienced a loss. In the culture I grew up in, in order to feel encouraged, people get really loud for you. They sing for you! It makes me tear up a little bit.
When my mom died- we had a funeral, we had a gathering- there were multiple things that happened. That’s the witness for my higher power- all of these things happen in these special moments. I’m a believer in something. My mom had four sisters, the oldest was 20 years older than her. So my oldest cousin was 50 when I was born. My second oldest cousin was there at the funeral, and she stopped me and said, ‘You know, if grandma were alive, you’d be her favorite grandchild. Everything you are doing is exactly the way she would want it done.’ Okay, thanks- I’m just doing what mom told me to do! Upholding my family traditions is really important. Would what I’m doing make my parents, my grandparents proud? I have this beautiful picture of my grandmother; she’s very elegant. My mother also [was elegant], and she knew how to encourage me. So I go back to those things. What would mom say? What would grandma say? Then I know. If they say I should do it differently, then I do, but when I hear them say you’re a survivor, you did everything you were supposed to do, then I know I’m good.
After the funeral, we go back to the hall and there’s a feed. People bring gifts to funerals. Like a blanket, or something that has a lot of utility. You display all the gifts you receive, and at the end you give the gifts away to people who have helped you. Then there’s a receiving line, you shake hands. [Through that] I learned never to say to someone, ‘Be strong!’ By the fourth cousin, I was like, ‘What if I don’t want to be strong? What if I want to break down?’ Then there was this niece of mine, SunRose Iron Shell, and she grabbed me by the hand- there’s something called trilling in Lakota culture, we call that lili [pronounced leelee], and she trilled loud in my face. And it was like, WOW! That’s what I needed!
I have encouragement, I have relatives and ancestors who are making a big noise somewhere. When I need encouragement I think of that.”
A lot of creative entrepreneurs started out early on, some even as early as childhood.
When did you start creating and testing out various business ideas? Please tell me the story of an early business idea you conceived of or tried, even if it’s very different from what you’re doing now.
“When I lived in Reno. Reno is a tough place, a hard place to live, though I’m sure it’s changed some. I was there just after the housing crisis, in the recession. There’s not a lot of art. I remember there was this point where there was this really cool warehouse space up for sale dirt cheap, like the price of a house, like $100,000 or something, and my friend Shawn was knowledgeable about property and he said what if we turn it into a business. We were trying to come up with a name, like Reno Art Center, or something like that. I did so many sketches of what it would look like. It would have a gallery space, a residency program, house artists… My friend took it to his dad and tried to do a business plan, but his dad was like, how are you going to make money? What are you going to sell? I was like, I don’t want to make money! I want to gather artists. I don’t want them to pay. We went through several iterations. Meanwhile the place had probably been bought and sold several times. I still have the sketches. I remember being influenced by the Bemis Center in Nebraska. They have a residency there. It would have been so cool to create that kind of space.
Now I have the tools and understand what I was trying to do, but then I was still in between organizing and finding regular work. I was in this dream space where I was trying to create a place for artists. I exclusively hung out with old democrats and artists in Reno. That was the space I wanted to create: an art center for artists to come, have their studio, have their shows, and have events- of course we’d have events in the space! I still go back to those ideas from time to time and think, well, I could move back to Reno, I could do this thing, It could be fun… But no. I love having had that experience and having that as part of who I am.”
Thank YOu, Alfred!
Where to find Alfred Walking Bull:
https://substack.com/@inmediarez
https://www.instagram.com/hoyekiyapi/
Post-Script: Project Background
I conceived of the summer long-form interviews project in early 2024 as a way to join my world-building communications work with my enjoyment of interviewing people.
Through these interviews, I’m amplifying the work of six creative entrepreneurs who I think are world building in beautiful ways. Please check out their websites, social media platforms and LinkedIn pages… follow them, share their work and engage with their content! Interviews are lightly edited for clarity.
The guiding values for this series include sharing the work, connecting with/building community, amplification of good world-building work done by creative entrepreneurs who are Queer, Trans, and/or Black, Indigenous, or people of color. These interviews are framed within queer & trans futurity & Black & Indigenous futurity.
This is a limited series- I’ll be publishing one interview a week for six weeks.
