Please use the following link to download the October 17, 2026 issue of the syəcəb
Still here. Still thriving.
By Micheal Rios, Tulalip News
The heartbeat of Indigeneity echoed throughout Seattle as Native communities from across the Pacific Northwest gathered to celebrate Indigenous Peoples’ Day. From a newly raised flag soaring above City Hall to the unmistakable rhythm of Coast Salish drums and the vibrant sight of Powwow dancers, the Emerald City was treated to an unmistakable expression of Indigenous identity.
Monday, October 12, marked the twelfth anniversary of Indigenous Peoples’ Day in Seattle. What began as a movement to challenge historical narratives and recognize the original inhabitants of this land has blossomed into an annual celebration of Native excellence, community and traditions that remain very much alive.
This year’s festivities were highlighted by a historic flag raising ceremony at Seattle City Hall on Friday, October 9. For the first time, a specially designed Indigenous Peoples’ Day flag was raised above the municipal building, carrying with it a message of recognition and optimism for the future.
“It’s great to be here and to celebrate a new flag for the city. It’s a momentous way to kick off Indigenous Peoples’ Day,” said Seattle Mayor Katie Wilson. “I’m honored to be the mayor of a city that takes such pride in acknowledging the rich history, culture, and contributions of the Indigenous peoples of this land. We ensure that the voices of Native communities and tribal governments are heard, respected, and included in the decisions that shape our city.”
The flag’s imagery was created by renowned Nooksack artist Louie Gong, who originally gifted the artwork to the community over a decade ago. His design, a thoughtful combination of Coast Salish artistic symbolism, speaks to the potential for positive transformation when communities work together.
Louie described the design as his love note to Seattle, explaining how its elements represent different experiences within the same city. “If you look at the wings of this design, then you’ll see an eagle,” he explained. “Eagles are free and magnificent and are symbols of power because they are capable of flying so high above the city, which means they also have the best views of the city.”
At the top of the artwork, incorporated into a shape resembling Seattle’s iconic Space Needle, are two coyotes representing those who struggle daily for life’s basic necessities. “So if you step back and really look at the design, you may consider how the most privileged among us and the most disenfranchised among us come together to create a symbol of positive transformation, a butterfly.”
That transformation begins with recognizing Indigenous peoples as essential voices in shaping the region’s future. “What I want the takeaway to be is that if we are to work together to create a physical place where everybody can feel safe and have opportunity, then Indigenous people, Indigenous values, and Indigenous excellence have to ground and guide that process,” Louie declared before stepping away from the mic.
While the flag represented a public acknowledgment of Indigenous presence, the following Monday gave Native communities an opportunity to celebrate that presence through the songs and traditions that best define them.
Across Seattle, Native-led gatherings welcomed community members and visitors to participate in the holiday. Among the most anticipated was an extraordinary remix between a Coast Salish Coastal Jam and an intertribal Powwow at North Seattle College. Coordinated by Mazaska Talks co-founder and Marysville School District Native Program Coordinator Matt Remle, the gathering brought together Indigenous peoples from throughout Coast Salish Territory, relatives from farther away, and non-Native neighbors eager to experience the cultural festivities.
Beginning at 3:00 p.m., the college’s spacious Ray Flores Wellness Center transformed into a gathering place overflowing with community spirit. Tulalip Councilmember Theresa Sheldon offered welcoming words that perfectly captured the occasion’s celebratory atmosphere.
“Welcome everyone to the traditional homelands of the Coast Salish people. We have relatives here from so many tribes and I just want to say a huge thank you for being here,” she began.
Then, with a combination of heartfelt encouragement and good humor, she reminded everyone that Indigenous Peoples’ Day can mean something different to each individual.
“There is no wrong way to celebrate Indigenous Peoples’ Day. Some of us burn things down. Some of us make new laws. Some of us march. Some of us protest. And some of us stay in bed and just rest. No matter how you choose to celebrate, I say keep living. Keep thriving. Keep being amazing. Keep doing what your heart needs. And if your heart needs those $200 pair of beaded earrings, then buy them!”
Her words were met with an appreciative audience ready to do exactly that. Celebrate. Moments later, the first drumbeats reverberated throughout the 44,000-square-foot facility, awakening the expansive wellness center with an unmistakable, Indigenous heartbeat.
Several Canoe Families had gathered, their drummers standing ready to share the songs that have connected Coast Salish peoples across generations. As one song gave way to another, dancers filled the floor, moving to familiar rhythms in a beautiful display of living culture. Among those keeping the beat was one of the gathering’s youngest participants, 3-year-old Jackson Booth. With drum in hand and a smile that could brighten the entire building, Jackson enthusiastically joined the older boys and grown men in sharing the music he has known his entire life.
“He’s heard the drum since the womb,” said his mother, Kristen Booth (Haida/Tsimshian). “I do my best to attend jams and powwows, even when I was pregnant. One of his first baby toys was a mini drum and he took right to it.”
Watching her little boy participate alongside experienced drummers was a moment of immense pride. “Watching how excited he is to drum with the older boys, it’s hard to describe other than to say I love it,” she said proudly. “Music is his happy place. I love seeing him involved in his culture and there was no place we’d rather be on a day like today than surrounded by our people and culture.”
Jackson’s enthusiasm embodied one of the day’s most meaningful sights: Native children learning by doing, surrounded by relatives and community members eager to encourage their participation.
Upstairs, the wellness center’s upper deck offered another cultural experience. Native artists and entrepreneurs showcased handmade jewelry, beadwork and an assortment of other creations, providing opportunities for attendees to support Indigenous businesses while admiring the craftsmanship of talented artisans.
The elevated walkway also served as prime viewing real estate for spectators hoping to take in all the action unfolding below. And what action it was!
At approximately 4:30 p.m., the Coastal Jam took a competitive turn with the announcement of an Iron Man and Iron Woman dance contest. An estimated 60 dancers answered the challenge, filling the floor with determined competitors ready to test their endurance. The premise was simple enough. Keep dancing as the Canoe Families continue singing. Stop moving, and your chance at victory disappears.
One song became two. Two became five. The minutes continued to pile up while exhausted dancers gradually stepped aside. As the field dwindled, spectators cheered on those still moving, recognizing the extraordinary stamina required to continue dancing without surrendering.
By 5:10 p.m., a whopping 40 minutes after the contest began, only the final male and female dancers remained victorious. Each received $300 for their incredible efforts.
For Tulalip families in attendance, the men’s contest featured an especially memorable finish. The final two competitors were brothers Josh Fryberg Jr. and Daniel Fryberg, both representing the Salish Spirit Canoe Family. With their father, mother and sisters watching in eager anticipation, the brothers found themselves locked in a good old-fashioned sibling showdown. Only this time, family bragging rights came with a cash prize and the coveted Iron Man title.
When the contest ended, 12-year-old Josh Jr. emerged victorious. “When it got down to just me and my brother, all I kept thinking about was ‘you gotta win, you gotta win’,” Josh recalled while wiping sweat from his brow.
The young Tulalip dancer credited his stamina, in part, to regularly participating in traditional sweats alongside his father. “I do sweats with my dad whenever I can. I feel like that helps me dance longer. It was a good battle. I’m happy I won and have the bragging rights over my brother.”
At just 12 years old, outlasting a field of older and more experienced dancers was an impressive accomplishment. Doing so against his own brother in the final moments made the victory that much sweeter. Meanwhile, the Iron Woman contest featured an equally determined competitor in 21-year-old Baby Clarissa Morninggun (Yakama).
Representing the Sacred Water Canoe Family while dancing Coastal, Clarissa is also an avid jingle dress dancer who embraces opportunities to participate in Powwows. Her passion for both traditions made the day’s unique combination of Coastal Jam and Powwow particularly meaningful.
Adding to the occasion was the presence of family members who had traveled from Montana to support her. “I have family who traveled from Browning, Montana to watch me dance,” she shared. “Every time I circled pass them, I could hear them cheering for me, and that helped fuel me. There was no way I was going to stop dancing.”
In fact, Clarissa was prepared to keep dancing even longer. “I actually thought we were going to keep going, that it was last man standing, and I was determined to beat not just the women, but the men, too,” she admitted.
Her competitive spirit was matched by a deep appreciation for the opportunity to gather with fellow Native people. After taking a few moments to understandably rehydrate with a bottle of water, she said, “Every day is Indigenous Peoples’ Day, I would say, but yeah this entire experience has been amazing.”
As the afternoon transitioned into evening, the celebration continued with the Powwow portion of the gathering. Coast Salish songs and dances shared the spotlight with intertribal Powwow traditions, creating an opportunity for participants and spectators to appreciate the diversity of Native cultural expression.
The gathering offered a striking contrast to the stereotypes and historical narratives that Indigenous Peoples’ Day was created to challenge. Here were Native peoples not confined to history books or museum exhibits, but dancing, singing, laughing, creating and celebrating in the present day. From Jackson Booth finding happiness in every beat of his drum to Josh Fryberg Jr. outlasting dozens of dancers, and Clarissa Morninggun drawing strength from the cheers of her relatives, the festivities illustrated how Indigenous culture continues to thrive.
Twelve years after Seattle officially began recognizing Indigenous Peoples’ Day, this year’s celebration demonstrated how far public recognition has come. A Coast Salish artist’s vision now flies above City Hall, Native voices are increasingly present in civic conversations, and community celebrations continue introducing new generations to the beauty of their traditions.
But perhaps the greatest testament to Indigenous resilience wasn’t found in a government proclamation or symbolic flag. It was found in the countless moments shared between generations. In the tiny hands of a 3-year-old drummer. In two Tulalip brothers dancing their hearts out. In the joyful cheers of relatives who traveled hundreds of miles to celebrate together.
And in a college wellness center that, for one unforgettable October afternoon and evening, resonated with the heartbeat of pure Indigeneity.
Breaking the silence: Tulalip gathers for domestic violence awareness
By Wade Sheldon, Tulalip News
Domestic violence can take many forms, from physical harm to emotional manipulation, intimidation, and controlling behavior. Recognizing the signs, understanding the challenges survivors face, and knowing where to seek assistance were central messages during the Tulalip Tribes’ Domestic Violence Awareness Month Coastal Jam and Dinner.
On Wednesday, October 7, families and community members gathered at the Tulalip Gathering Hall for an evening dedicated to raising awareness, supporting survivors, and connecting individuals with available resources. Hosted by the Tulalip Tribes Family Advocacy Division, the event featured dinner, informational tables, children’s activities, a survivor’s testimony, and a Coastal Jam.
Throughout the gathering, purple ribbons and decorations raised awareness of domestic violence. Attendees had opportunities to learn about advocacy programs, participate in activities, and connect with those working to support individuals and families affected by abuse.
A central part of the evening was a personal testimony from Tulalip Tribal member Thomas Monger, who shared his experience of surviving domestic violence and rebuilding his life. His speech, titled I Found My Voice: A Story of Survival, Support, and Reclaiming My Life, addressed the difficulties of recognizing abuse, leaving an unhealthy relationship, and finding the support necessary to move forward.
Monger began by challenging common perceptions of domestic violence. While physical injuries are often associated with abuse, he explained that emotional manipulation and controlling behavior can develop gradually, making it difficult for someone to recognize what is happening.
“You learn how to avoid conflict. You learn to question yourself. You learn to make excuses for things you don’t understand. And eventually, you can become so focused on keeping the peace that you forget what peace actually feels like,” he said.
Reflecting on his own experience, Monger described how he initially struggled to recognize the unhealthy patterns developing within his relationship. He had entered the relationship hoping to build a future and raise a family, never imagining that he would eventually have to fight to reclaim his independence.
Following the death of his father in June 2022, Monger began questioning the direction of his life and what he wanted his children to understand about love and relationships. He eventually made the difficult decision to leave, but explained that separation brought additional challenges, including time away from his children and navigating the legal system.
His experience highlighted an important reality for survivors: leaving an abusive relationship does not necessarily mean the difficulties immediately end. For some, rebuilding their lives involves lengthy court proceedings, custody concerns, financial uncertainty, and emotional recovery.
Throughout those challenges, Monger credited several Tulalip programs with helping him navigate unfamiliar circumstances and regain stability. He specifically recognized Legacy of Healing, the Children’s Advocacy Center, beda? chelh and the Tulalip Tribes for connecting him with resources and providing guidance.
“I don’t know where I would be today without those services. And honestly… I don’t know if I would have my children today without the support I received,” Monger said.
His testimony reinforced one of the evening’s primary messages: assistance is available, but people experiencing domestic violence may not know where to find it. Advocacy programs can help individuals understand their options, develop safety plans, navigate legal proceedings, and access additional services.
Monger also encouraged community members to reconsider how they respond when someone discloses abuse. Rather than questioning why a person remained in a relationship or pressuring them to make immediate decisions, he emphasized the importance of listening and offering support.
“Don’t ask: ‘Why didn’t you leave?’” He said. “Ask: ‘How can I help?’”
He explained that survivors who have experienced prolonged control may need encouragement to recognize that they still have choices. Offering support without judgment can help individuals begin making decisions about their safety and future.
Beyond the evening’s testimony, the gathering offered families opportunities to participate in activities and learn about services provided by Tulalip’s Family Advocacy programs. Informational tables displayed resources, while children participated in hands-on weaving activities. The event also included door prizes and opportunities for attendees to connect with program representatives.
The Coastal Jam brought traditional singing and drumming into the evening, with singers gathering around their drums as community members joined in the cultural gathering. The songs provided another way for attendees to participate in an event centered on supporting survivors and strengthening awareness of domestic violence.
For Monger, the opportunity to share his experience represented another step in reclaiming his confidence and independence. He spoke about wanting his children to grow up understanding that healthy relationships should be built on safety, respect, and personal boundaries.
Although he acknowledged that he cannot change the difficult experiences his family endured, he emphasized that he can influence what happens next by creating a different example for his children.
“What happened to me is part of my story. It is not my entire story,” Monger said.
His message encouraged survivors to recognize that healing and rebuilding are possible, even when the process is difficult. He concluded by emphasizing the importance of reclaiming the ability to make decisions about one’s own life.
“I didn’t choose what happened to me. But I do get to choose what happens next.”
The Domestic Violence Awareness Month gathering served as an opportunity to recognize survivors, increase awareness of available assistance, and encourage conversations about preventing abuse. Through education, advocacy, and cultural participation, the evening highlighted the importance of ensuring individuals and families know where to turn when they need support.
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Resources and contact information
Individuals and families experiencing domestic violence, child abuse, or other forms of family violence can contact the following Tulalip Tribes programs for assistance.
Legacy of Healing Advocacy Center (LOH) provides confidential advocacy, safety planning, emotional support, assistance with navigating legal processes, and connections to additional resources for adult victims and survivors of crime. Phone: 360-716-4100. Address: 7720 Waterworks Road, Tulalip, WA 98271. Hours: Monday through Friday, 8 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. Email: loh@tulaliptribes-nsn.gov
Children’s Advocacy Center (CAC) provides advocacy and coordinated support for children who have experienced or witnessed abuse or other crimes, helping children and their families navigate investigations and access services. Phone: 360-716-5437. Address: 2321 Marine Drive NE, Tulalip, WA 98271
beda? chelh Tulalip’s child welfare program works to protect children, support families, and address child safety concerns through culturally informed services. Phone: 360-716-3284. Address: 2828 Mission Hill Road, Tulalip, WA 98271
For immediate danger, call 911.
Additional confidential assistance is available through the StrongHearts Native Helpline at 844-762-8483 and the Domestic Violence Services of Snohomish County at 425-252-2873, available 24 hours a day.
Know your ride: E-bike and motorized vehicle safety on Tulalip
By Wade Sheldon, Tulalip News
With more e-bikes, mini-bikes, and other small motorized vehicles being seen across the Tulalip Reservation, riders and families are encouraged to know what they are riding and understand the rules before taking them onto public roads and sidewalks.
Not everything that looks like an e-bike is legally considered one. The vehicle’s speed, the power of its motor, and whether it has working pedals can determine how it is classified and where it can legally be operated.
Washington State separates electric-assisted bicycles into three classes. Class 1 e-bikes provide pedal assistance and have a maximum assisted speed of 20 mph. Class 2 e-bikes may use a throttle and have a maximum motor-powered speed of 20 mph. Class 3 e-bikes provide pedal assistance and can reach an assisted speed of 28 mph.
An electric-assisted bicycle must have working pedals and an electric motor of no more than 750 watts. A vehicle with a motor greater than 750 watts, no working pedals, or capable of exceeding the limits established for an electric-assisted bicycle may instead fall under other motor-vehicle requirements.
That distinction is particularly important now that mini-bikes and similar vehicles are being ridden around the reservation. Tulalip Police Chief Shawn Ledford said mini-bikes without pedals are being seen on the reservation and are illegal for use on public roads unless they meet applicable licensing requirements.
Where riders can travel also depends on the type of e-bike. According to information provided by Ledford, Class 1 and Class 2 e-bikes are allowed on sidewalks, while Class 3 e-bikes are not allowed on sidewalks unless there is no alternative. Riders should also pay attention to restrictions that may apply to particular trails, paths, or other areas.
For vehicles that do not meet the requirements of an electric-assisted bicycle, additional rules can apply. Depending on the vehicle’s classification, a driver’s license, vehicle registration, insurance, proper lighting and signals, and a helmet may be required. Certain motorized vehicles are also prohibited from sidewalks, shared-use paths, bike lanes, public trails, and public parks.
Knowing those differences is important for both safety and legality. A small motorized vehicle can reach significant speeds while offering riders far less protection than a passenger vehicle. Riders should wear appropriate protective equipment, remain alert around pedestrians and traffic, obey traffic laws, and make sure motorists can see them.
Parents and guardians should also check the specifications of an e-bike or motorized vehicle before allowing a child to ride it. A vehicle marketed or commonly referred to as an “e-bike” may not necessarily meet Washington’s legal definition of one.
As the number of e-bikes and motorized vehicles continues to grow around Tulalip, knowing what you are riding, where you can operate it, and which rules apply can help keep riders, pedestrians, and motorists safe.
Know your ride. Know the rules. Ride safely.
Cory Sage Pablo
Cory Sage Pablo was born on June 22, 1985 and went to rest with Jesus on October 2, 2026 after saying his final goodbyes to his children and wife.
He was a wonderful father to his children, Max, Emma and Lincoln. Being a father and husband was the light of his life. The love he had for his family could be seen by everyone who knew him. When he wasn’t at home with his family he was on the water providing for them. Family became his core and what drove him to be the best version of himself that he could be.
From the time Cory was a young boy he always wanted to go to work with his dad, whether this was construction, fishing, carpentry or woodworking he was eager to learn. He took the skills he learned and excelled to being a well-respected fisherman in the community and was well known for his dedication to the water.
Cory met his wife Sammy and became a family man. Together they raised 3 wonderful kids, Max, Emma and Lincoln. Much of his time outside of fishing was spent attending sporting events and helping coach his kids to be the most successful athletes they could be. If he was not watching them play, then he was at his nieces and nephews sporting events. He loved to golf with his brother and nephews. So much so that he got Max and Emma a set of golf clubs at 3 years old.
Cory’s presence was steady and quiet, but his impact was anything but small. He will be remembered for his love of family, his dedication to the water, his generosity toward others, and the wisdom he shared in his own quiet way.
His memory will live on through his children, his family , his friends, and the community that had the privilege of knowing him . He will be greatly missed and never forgotten.
Cory is survived by his wife Samantha. Children Max, Emma and Lincoln Pablo. His parents Dan Pablo Sr.(Stephanie) and Tami Dugan. His siblings Dan Pablo Jr.(Kelsie) Stan Rude ( Shandra) and Nikki Pablo and his many nieces and nephews.
Cory was preceded in death by beloved family dog Bella, Grandparents Louis Pablo Sr and Leota Pablo, Waynetta Brown and William Rude. Brother Michael Pablo Sr. Uncle Eddy Pablo Sr and special cousins Desmond Pablo and Ami Pablo.
Services will be held at the Tulalip Gathering Hall on October 9, 2026 at 11:00 am.
October 10, 2026 syəcəb
Please use the following link to download the October 10, 2026 issue of the syəcəb
Carrying their stories forward
By Wade Sheldon, Tulalip News
Orange shirts filled the Gathering Hall on Wednesday, September 30, as Tulalip community members came together for a Remembrance Dinner and Coastal Jam honoring boarding school survivors and remembering the children who never returned home.
Families filled tables throughout the hall for an evening of reflection and culture. Children could be heard throughout the room as speakers shared family histories, discussed the lasting effects of the boarding school system, and reflected on what it means for generations to gather together today.
Tulalip historian Tessa Campbell began by explaining the meaning carried by the orange shirts worn throughout the hall. She shared the story of Phyllis Webstad, whose experience at St. Joseph Mission Residential School in British Columbia inspired Orange Shirt Day. At six years old, Webstad arrived for her first day wearing a new orange shirt given to her by her grandmother. The shirt was taken from her along with the rest of her clothing and was never returned.
For Webstad, Campbell explained, the orange shirt eventually came to represent much more than a piece of clothing. “It represented what the residential schools told Indigenous children about themselves,” she said. “It represented that belongings did not matter, that feelings did not matter, that her family no longer mattered.”
Webstad publicly shared her experience years later, and her story became the foundation for Orange Shirt Day and its message that Every Child Matters. Campbell said the history represented by the shirts cannot be separated from what Native families continue to experience. “The story of residential schools is not simply a story about something that happened in the past,” she said. “It is also a story about what happened to our families, our communities, our relationships, and what we are still carrying today.”
Campbell said removing children from their communities disrupted relationships with parents, grandparents, language, culture, and the ways knowledge moved between generations. “When you punish a child for speaking their language, you are not simply taking away words,” she said. “You are disrupting a relationship and connection to their grandparents and ancestors.”
Healing those disruptions, Campbell said, also happens through relationships. She pointed to family, elders, cultural teachings, traditional foods, language, land, and water, as well as the behavioral health, cultural, language, and educational resources available within Tulalip. “We cannot heal only as individuals,” Campbell said. “We need to heal through our families, through our elders, and through our teachings.”
Tribal member Summer Hammons spoke about how knowledge of the boarding school system was carried by Native families long before it received broader institutional recognition. “For a long time, the history of our Indian boarding schools was known by Native families and communities, but it wasn’t fully recognized by the institutions that created and operated them,” Hammons said.
She pointed to the Federal Indian Boarding School Initiative launched in 2021 as a shift in that recognition, while emphasizing that Native people and organizations are also driving efforts to document the history and create opportunities for healing. “Washington, D.C, does not just lead this work. Native people and Native communities lead it,” Hammons said.
Tulalip Vice Chair Deborah Parker brought the history directly home, speaking about boarding schools that operated at Tulalip and the children who were separated from their families. Pointing to historic photographs displayed at the Gathering Hall, Parker described what happened to children after they entered the schools. “Our children’s hair was cut. They were forced not to speak their language,” she said.
Parker also shared her own family connection through her grandmother, Harriette Shelton Dover, who found ways to hold on to her language before eventually being sent to boarding school herself. Parker said many children endured separation from the people who cared for them, and she encouraged parents in the room to recognize that the ability to raise their children at home is something previous generations were denied. “So for your parents here today, hang on to your children,” she said. “Love them as much as you can because now you have a choice.”
Tulalip Board of Directors Chair Hazen Shopbell spoke about the effects that continued after children returned home and how those experiences have carried into later generations. He said confronting that history requires conversations that may be difficult but are necessary. “We gotta have these tough conversations,” Shopbell said.
Shopbell then asked those gathered to look around the room at what remained despite that history. “All the things we went through, all the suffering, and then everybody looks at this room,” he said. “All our kids, and all our relatives, and all our family, and that’s what it’s about.”
The sounds of those children also stood out to Tulalip Board of Directors member Theresa Sheldon, whose own family history includes multiple generations who attended boarding schools. Sheldon shared that her great-great-grandmother Ruth and great-grandmother Teresa attended boarding schools, and all 10 of Ruth’s children were sent to boarding school.
“We’re here to honor those that we don’t even have a picture of, those whose names we don’t know, and those who have survived so we can stand here today,” Sheldon said.
As children continued to make their presence known throughout the Gathering Hall, Sheldon drew a connection between their freedom today and the generations being remembered. “What a blessed moment we are to stand here today to hear the children be loud, because loud children mean they’re safe,” she said. “What a gift that is in 2026 that we stand here in our Gathering Hall together.”
Sheldon also spoke about community members who did not grow up with access to cultural teachings and may be learning songs, dances, and other traditions later in life. Rather than feeling judged for what they were not taught, she said reconnecting should be welcomed. “So many of us didn’t have a cultural upbringing. So many of us are walking onto the dance floor for the first time. There should be no shame or blame. That should be a celebration.”
That invitation helped move the evening from speeches and dinner into the Coastal Jam. Sheldon encouraged everyone to participate. For elders unable to stand or walk onto the floor, she offered to bring out chairs so they could still take part while others danced around them.
Before the dancing began, Parker reminded those gathered of who they were carrying with them onto the floor. “This room is filled with our relatives near and far, and I just hope and pray that we dance and remember those before us, those who didn’t make it, those who are buried in unmarked graves,” she said.
The Coastal Jam filled the Gathering Hall with drums, songs, and dancing, bringing generations together in the same space. On an evening dedicated to children who were once separated from their families, elders, parents, and children now gathered openly to practice those traditions together.
That continuation reflected a message Campbell shared earlier in the evening. While the orange shirt represents what Native children endured, she said it can also represent what Native communities continue to restore. “We have inherited trauma, but we have also inherited resilience,” Campbell said. “When I see the orange shirt, I don’t only see what was taken away, I also see what we are reclaiming.”
A story told in metal
By Micheal Rios
Towering outside a brand-new center dedicated to imagination and design, three metal orcas now carry a Coast Salish story into the heart of a college campus.
In late September, Tulalip artist James Madison unveiled Snoqualmie Pass. It’s a large-scale metal installation permanently situated in the courtyard of Lake Washington Institute of Technology’s (LWTech) newly opened Center for Design and Event Center in Kirkland. More than 300 guests attended the grand opening celebration, which began with the dedication of the 13-foot sculpture.
“There are three panels fused together that make up this sculpture. If you look carefully, then you’ll see Thunderbird inside Blackfish’s dorsal fin,” explained James, the now 52-year-old artist. “The reason there are three panels is to represent myself and my two boys, Jayden and Jevin. In a lot of my work, you’ll see three whale fins. Each time it’s to represent my family. I raised them as a single father, coached them both from biddy ball to high school, and am extremely proud to be their father. I want them to always know that no matter what, they are a part of me and a part of my work.”
For the proud father and Tulalip culture bearer, his latest metal installation also represents something far older than the new building surrounding it. Snoqualmie Pass brings to life a Coast Salish story passed down to him by his grandfather, Frank. At its center are Blackfish and Thunderbird, two powerful beings who once argued over whose way of life was better. Blackfish championed swimming through the water. Thunderbird favored soaring through the sky.
Their disagreement became a struggle. As the story was passed down, Blackfish and Thunderbird wrestled high above the Earth before falling from the mountains toward the water below. Their journey across the landscape formed the passage now known as Snoqualmie Pass.
James translated that story into three imposing metal orcas, transforming oral history into something students, faculty and visitors can physically encounter each time they enter the Center for Design.
The placement is especially fitting. The Cascade Mountains sit less than an hour from LWTech’s Kirkland campus, and Snoqualmie is among the communities within the college’s service area. LWTech directly serves communities throughout King and Snohomish counties, stretching from Bellevue and Kirkland east toward North Bend, Snoqualmie and the foothills of the Cascades.
In that setting, Snoqualmie Pass serves as a stark reminder that the mountains, waterways and familiar place names surrounding the modern Eastside existed within Coast Salish stories and knowledge systems long before highways, cities and college campuses were constructed.
The artwork also carries Tulalip culture into a space built specifically for the next generation of creators. LWTech’s new Center for Design brings the college’s Art, Design, Illustration, Architecture and Gaming programs together under one roof. College officials describe the facility as a hub for creativity, collaboration and innovation.
Founded in 1949, LWTech is Washington State’s only public institute of technology. Today it offers 12 bachelor’s degrees, 42 associate degrees and 70 professional certificates across 41 areas of study, including programs in design, engineering, manufacturing, health sciences, information technology and transportation technology.
James’s work was selected by community members through a public-art process managed by the Washington State Arts Commission in partnership with LWTech. Its permanent presence also complements a campus where artwork is intentionally placed beyond traditional gallery walls. LWTech maintains sculptures, murals, photography and other works throughout its buildings and grounds, many of them part of Washington’s public art collection.
James is hopeful that future Tulalip college students attending LWTech will eventually stand beneath those metal Blackfish and know that they belong. Following the grand opening ceremony, he spoke about wanting more young people from Tulalip to consider LWTech when thinking about college, especially those interested in careers built around creativity, technology, design and making things with their hands.
“After learning about all the programs and certifications the Institute offers, I think it would be an amazing option for our Tulalip graduates to consider,” shared the renowned master carver. “Especially for those who are interested in learning a trade or in search of creative outlets that can turn into careers. From diesel mechanics and welders to metal fabricators and video game designers, there’s so much opportunity for our current and future generations of young people.”
For a Tulalip student arriving on an unfamiliar campus, seeing Coast Salish imagery standing prominently outside one of the college’s newest buildings could offer an immediate point of connection. A familiar form. A familiar story. A reminder that Native identity does not have to be left at home when pursuing higher education.
That message carries added significance at an institution whose current strategic plan begins by recognizing the Coast Salish peoples who have inhabited the land where LWTech now stands and acknowledges their relationship with that land since time immemorial. Snoqualmie Pass gives that acknowledgment physical form.
With the 2026-2027 school year in full swing, students are shuffling in LWTech’s classroom on a daily basis. There, designers sketch, architects draft,
artists experiment, and gamers build digital worlds. And outside the Center for Design, there is a Coast Salish story told in metal.
Spot Reservation: Permit Yourself to Laugh
Swinomish artist Daniel R. Smith to transform a UW parking garage into Indigenous celebratory “occupation,” costume party, and environmental protest
What: Spot Reservation is a public art project featuring photo portraits with costumes and wearable taxidermy in a tiny post-apocalyptic forest, fry bread tacos, live birds of prey, and an open mic; free and open to all, Native and non-Native alike
When: October 30th, 2026
Where: University of Washington Seattle, Padelford Parking Garage Lot N21
SEATTLE —October 5, 2026— Why build a tiny forest of native plants in a brutalist concrete parking garage? And give away free Indian tacos next to a demonstration of live birds of prey being hand-fed mice? “Spot Reservation,” the brainchild of Swinomish artist Daniel R. Smith, is a free public event which he describes as an “Indigenous, celebratory occupation of the University of Washington.”
The event draws inspiration from numerous influences, including Smith’s upbringing on the Tulalip Indian Reservation, the climate crisis, and pop culture like Twin Peaks. Smith’s past projects include “Slapstick Indians,” an augmented reality installation in downtown Seattle; “The Salish Sea Anti Space Symposium,” a day long event protesting the 50th anniversary of the moon landing; “The Seattle-Havana-Tehran Poster Show (aka The SHT Show),” a three-city international poster show launched at Bumbershoot in 2015.
Happening the day before Halloween, Friday, October 30th, 11:00am – 3:00pm, Spot Reservation features free, costumed photo portraits in a tiny forest (aka “nanoforest”) installed in the depths of the Padelford Parking Garage, Level N21, on the east side of campus. Smith’s collaborator, Iranian born photographer Saina Heshmati, co-founder of Antipode Gallery in Pioneer Square, will capture and distribute professional portraits of participants in a tiny forest, or “nanoforest,” of native plants growing out of industrial oil barrels. Costume elements, including “wearable taxidermy” will be provided by Smith, but the public is also encouraged to come dressed in costumes of their own making.
Joe Seymour (Squaxin/Pueblo Acoma) will emcee the event and host an open mic for singing, drumming, and reading, including an appearance by poet Mateo Quispe (Red River Métis/Little Shell Chippewa). Seattle’s Off the Rez food truck will provide free fry bread tacos to the first 120 people. The Falconer, who works with raptors, will demonstrate live hawks, falcons, and a vulture named “Mr. Peebles,” and offer opportunities to hold birds for photos. “Aunty Cedar Log Lady,” a Lynchian character devised by Tessa Rose Campbell (Tulalip/Tlingit), will be a wandering channeler of the forest.
Spot Reservation is free and open to the public, and designed to highlight Indigenous concerns about environmental degradation, climate change, colonization, land ownership using humor and entertainment. Conceived of as an “off kilter pow wow” and “a protest disguised as a party,” Smith invites any and all who are curious about art making and community building through shared experience
Hope in recovery
By Wade Sheldon, Tulalip News
The gym at Greg Williams Court was filled with resources, activities, and conversations about recovery on Wednesday, September 23, as the Tulalip Wellness Court held its second annual Alumni Recovery Resource Fair.
Community members moved among resource tables set up throughout the gym, connecting with programs and services while food and games gave families a chance to spend time together. A bounce house and dunk tank were added to the afternoon as organizations shared information about services available to people in recovery and their families.
Wellness Court provides an alternative path for participants dealing with substance use and involvement in the justice system, emphasizing recovery, accountability, and addressing the issues that contributed to their circumstances. Participants work through a court-supervised program while connecting with treatment and other services intended to support long-term recovery.
The alum fair brought those resources together while also giving graduates and others in recovery a chance to reconnect with the programs and people who have been part of their journeys.
After the resource fair concluded, attendees gathered for dinner at 4 p.m. The evening portion gave those in recovery an opportunity to share their experiences, including Summer Lee Blankenship, an author of two books and one of the first graduates of Tulalip Wellness Court. With a clean date of June 18, 2022, Blankenship reflected on a time when she was unsure whether she would survive. “I experienced a life of heartache, pain, and agony,” she said. “I reached a point where I did not think I was going to make it out.”
Blankenship said she first used drugs at 13 years old. Over the years, she witnessed overdoses and experienced several herself. “I’ve witnessed people overdose. I’ve held people’s hands as they’ve taken their last breath,” she said. “I’ve had a heart attack. I’ve overdosed so many times, and nothing ever stopped me. I just continued deeper and deeper and deeper.”
She also spoke about the hold addiction continued to have over her after becoming a mother. “I love my son more than anything, and even if it wasn’t enough to make me quit,” Blankenship said. “It really, truly is a disease.”
Blankenship began going to treatment in 2011 and said she went through treatment 18 times, spent time in and out of jail, and participated in two drug court programs, including Tulalip Wellness Court. After joining Wellness Court, she said she eventually went on the run for several years during what became one of the darkest periods of her life. Looking back on that time, she said, “I don’t know how I am alive today. I’m so thankful that I am.”
Years later, Blankenship said she is thankful for the work that came with Wellness Court and for a life that once seemed beyond her reach. She pointed to her family, including her son, sister, and grandmother, who she said has never missed one of her events. “Today my life is just full of so many things that at one point seemed so impossible,” she said. “I’m super thankful for that.”
Speaking directly to current Wellness Court participants, Blankenship acknowledged how difficult the program can be, having experienced it herself. “If you are in Wellness Court, my hands go up to you,” she said. “I know the work. I know how hard it is. It’s just not easy. Never give up.”
She encouraged those listening to continue showing up, face the difficult parts of their lives, and believe that change remains possible. “You are the creator of your life, and nothing is out of reach,” Blankenship said. “You just have to believe in yourself and just keep showing up and doing the hard thing.”
For Blankenship, that work also means returning to ceremony, taking care of oneself, and learning to live with integrity. “Always go back to ceremonies and take care of yourself in a good, gentle way,” she said. “Keeping our promises, showing up when we say we’re going to show up, being a person of integrity and dignity and respect. It’s never too late for anybody.”
Now in its second year, the Wellness Court Alumni Recovery Resource Fair brought community members, service providers, and Wellness Court alums together in one space. From connecting people with resources during the afternoon to sharing a meal and stories of recovery later in the day, the gathering provided a place to recognize progress while showing those still working toward recovery the support available around them.