Beadwork is a longstanding artistic tradition of the Ojibwe people. Our love of style and flair goes back a long time. Before the Pale People (European colonizers) brought glass beads across the Sour Water (Atlantic Ocean), our people were already known among the Nations of Turtle Island (“North America”) for decorating garments and bags with intricate porcupine quillwork.

The Ojibwe people have long shared an alliance with our younger siblings, the Odawa and Potawatomi of the Great Lakes, which was known as the Council of Three Fires. The Potawatomi were trusted mediators who maintained relations with other tribes and had such a reputation for fairness that even tribes warring with the Potawatomi deferred to them to set the terms of their surrenders, truces, and agreements. The Odawa were the traders among the Three Fires, facilitating barter and the exchange of goods with other Indigenous Nations and peoples. We Ojibwe kept the Midewiwin—our Medicine Lodge and spiritual tradition—and spent more than six months of the year indoors, sharing stories and decorating our clothing and belongings with care and beauty.

Most Indigenous people learn to bead from their Elder family members, such as grandmothers, aunties, and other relatives. My Ojibwe family connection was broken due to my father growing up in a white foster home, so my path was a little different. I first learned to bead from Elders who taught an after-school program at Spotted Eagle Elementary School in “Duluth, Minnesota,” an all-Native school.

In that program, we learned a lot of traditional lifeways. For instance, I learned to brain-tan a hide. I was sick and missed the day we smoked our hides to bleach and soften them, so my deerskin did not turn out very usable, sadly. I loved the food-related practices like tapping maple trees and boiling down the sap to make syrup—pouring out a little into the snow to make candies—and harvesting, parching, thrashing, and winnowing wild rice.

Of all the traditional activities we did at Spotted Eagle, my favorites were birchbark basket weaving, quillwork, and, above all, beading. Quillwork and beading were winter crafts, practiced indoors during the cold months or on bad-weather days, just as our ancestors had done for centuries. The only difference was that we gathered in a cinderblock building on the school grounds instead of a wigwam.

I didn’t stay in all-Native schools. I spent 4^th grade there, but I was bullied badly for being a mixed-race “city Indian” and for being a bespectacled tomboy nerd. They called me a “he-she” and a lesbian, and the old classic four-eyes. I returned to public school seeking safety and greater opportunities. I dreamed of traveling the world, and being a nerd and an artist, I wanted to learn how to create art for video games and Magic: The Gathering.

As I grew older, I spent several years away from home, working and learning how to make my way in the wider world. Eventually, I found an atelier in the old European masters’ tradition to develop a solid foundation in art skills and built a portfolio to begin a career in video game and illustration art. But for years I looked for a way to bring beadwork back into my art. I tried sewing beads through canvas, although that was too labor-intensive and hard on my hands to continue. Finally, a few years ago I realized I could combine a couple of surface preparation techniques: I could mount watercolor paper to cotton fabric using acrylic adhesive, then stretch the still-wet surface over canvas stretcher bars. Once dry, this process created a surface that held paint well and could be pierced easily with a sewing needle, while remaining strong enough to support the countless holes needed for beadwork.

Finally, I had a way to combine my multiple art traditions. I had a contract with the publisher Simon & Schuster to illustrate a picture book by Cherokee author Art Coulson, and I pitched the idea of doing the book with watercolor and beads. I sent a test patch as a proof of concept, and they loved the idea and let me take the time needed to illustrate the entire book using this technique. The book, All The Stars In The Sky, went on to win the 2026 Minnesota Book Award for Children’s Literature.