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Global Engagement

FW de Klerk accepts O’Connor Justice Prize

Downtown Phoenix campus
February 17, 2019

Former South African president recognized for helping countries improve governance, bolster democracy and resolve conflicts

The former South African president who ended apartheid said Saturday that statesmen have the power to change the world and positively alter the course of history, but a rule of law must be established before real change can happen.  

“It is the notion that the affairs of mankind do not take precedent over the tastes of the day or the wishes of the majority but by clear objective and inherently clear, immutable laws,” said FW de Klerk shortly after accepting the O’Connor Justice Prize administered by the Sandra Day O'Connor College of Law at Arizona State University.

“It is grounded on the principle that everyone, however rich or powerful, however grieved or grievous, however popular or unpopular, should be equal before and subject to the rule of law administered by independent, impartial and competent courts.” 

De Klerk, 82, visited Phoenix to accept the honor for dismantling apartheid and ushering in a new era of civil rights in his country. He was also recognized for the work of his nonprofit, Global Leadership Foundation, in which he continues to play a constructive role in the promotion of peace, democracy and development in countries across the world.

“Each year we recognize extraordinary individuals who have dedicated their lives to advancing the rule of law, justice and human rights. This year we are honored to award the fifth annual O’Connor Justice Prize to FW de Klerk,” said ASU Law Dean Douglas Sylvester. “President De Klerk is one in a long line of truly worthy recipients including the Honorable Mrs. Anson Chan, President Jimmy Carter, Minister Ana Palacio and Dr. Navanethem Pillay.”

About 200 people attended the award ceremony at the Arizona Biltmore. Some of the attendees included Christine Todd Whitman, former New Jersey governor; Arizona Congressman Greg Stanton; Arizona Chief Justice Scott Bales; and several members of the O’Connor familyThe 88-year-old O’Connor was not present for the ceremony. She announced her withdrawal from public life due to illness in October 2018..

The O’Connor Justice Prize was established in 2014 to raise visibility for rule-of-law initiatives; recognize people who have made extraordinary contributions to advancing the rule of law, justice and human rights; and to honor Justice Sandra Day O’Connor’s legacy.

O’Connor Justice Prize co-chairs Barbara Barrett, former ambassador of the United States to the Republic of Finland and with her husband the namesake of ASU's honorsIn the winter of 2000, Craig and Barbara Barrett gave $10 million to endow the University Honors College, the largest gift received by ASU and a U.S. honors college at that time. In the spring of 2001, the University Honors College was named for the Barretts and later became known as Barrett, The Honors College. college, and retired Arizona Supreme Court Justice Ruth McGregor presented the award. 

“Simply put, in my lifetime in all the world no one has done more to advance human rights than President De Klerk,” Barrett said. “His heroic decision to end apartheid and reach a peaceful transition to a full democracy in South Africa may have upset some of his countrymen, but it also inspired democracy and human rights as a movement across the African continent and around the globe. Decades after his presidency, his global leadership foundation continues to advance freedoms in scores of other countries.”

Barbara Barrett

Former Ambassador Barbara Barrett introduces former South African President FW de Klerk before awarding him the 2019 O’Connor Justice Prize on Saturday in Phoenix. Photo by Charlie Leight/ASU Now

De Klerk briefly recounted for attendees the years-long process to establish a new government system in South Africa after he took office in 1989. He said the apartheid system was riddled with corruption, violence, segregation and economic discrimination.

Shortly after assuming office, he astounded his countrymen by announcing his intention to establish equal rights for all South African citizens and release Nelson Mandela from his 27-year imprisonment.

He said the U.S. Constitution provided the blueprint for his nation's new constitution, which was adopted in October 1996.

“The process by which the United States drafted and adopted the Constitution in 1787 is one that we South Africans followed some 200 years later,” De Klerk said. “You were most fortunate to have some of the greatest minds of the 18th century involved in the drafting of your Constitution. Men of the stature of Thomas Jefferson, James Madison and Alexander Hamilton.”

De Klerk said the U.S. Constitution arose from deliberations steeped in the intellectual provisions of the essays in the Federalist Papers. He said the United States' founding fathers wrestled with the time-old challenges of limiting the power of the executive and of the majority, finding the best balance between the rights of states on one hand and the federal government on the other.

“In our case, we had to build bridges across the great divide in our society that had been clouded by centuries of colonialism and apartheid,” De Klerk said. “We had to find a balance between the fears of minorities that had much to lose and the formerly disenfranchised majority that had much to gain.”

He said negotiations for a new constitution, which lasted for several years, were marred by “faceless violence executed by extremists on all sides” who were opposed to a constitutional settlement.

Against all odds, De Klerk succeeded in dismantling the country’s long-standing apartheid system and initiated and presided over the inclusive negotiations that led to the adoption of South Africa’s first fully democratic constitution.

“We succeeded despite all the crises, the walkouts, the violence. We all had to make painful concessions and compromises. Our achievement, I believe, was regarded by the whole world as one of the crowning glories of the latter part of the 20th century,” De Klerk said. “It was seen everywhere as an example to all of the violent societies of what could be achieved by rational debate, compromise, constructive dialogue and goodwill. I believed that whatever party we belonged to, it was our finest hour.”

De Klerk’s thoughts concluded with a summation of the United States and the esteem in which it is held by the world.

“Let me end by saying America needn’t be made great again … America is great. What we in the outside world, the free world, want to see in America, is that it does not look too inward, that on the basis of the values which made it great, that it continues to provide greatness through the leadership of the free world.

“We want America to remain great.”

Top photo: Former South African President FW de Klerk accepts the 2019 O’Connor Justice Prize on Saturday at the Arizona Biltmore in Phoenix. The1993 co-recipient of the Nobel Peace Prize addressed more than 200 attendees, speaking about repealing apartheid laws. Photo by Charlie Leight/ASU Now

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ASU and MacArthur ‘genius' poet Natalie Diaz shows the power of language, humanities

February 14, 2019

“What is the language we need to live right now?”

That’s the question Arizona State University poet Natalie Diaz posed to an audience of some 250 students, faculty and community members during a presentation of her works at Old Main on the Tempe campus this week. ASU poet Natalie Diaz reads a selection of newer works for an audience at Old Main. ASU poet, professor and 2018 MacArthur fellow Natalie Diaz reads newer works to a group of some 250 students, faculty and community members at Old Main. Photo by Bruce Matsunaga Download Full Image

Diaz, who is the current Maxine and Jonathan Marshall Chair in Modern and Contemporary Poetry and an associate professor in the Department of English, was one of 25 John D. and Catherine T. MacArthur Foundation “genius grant” fellows in 2018. Drawing on her experiences growing up on the Fort Mojave Indian Village in Needles, California, and navigating indigenous, Latinx and queer identities, her work challenges the belief systems of contemporary American culture.

A collaboration between the College of Liberal Arts and Sciences, the Department of English and the Virginia G. Piper Center for Creative Writing, the event marked her first reading at ASU.

Dean of Humanities Jeffrey Cohen said it celebrated Diaz’s work on its own and its influence on the college.

“When the news came of her ‘genius’ award, we felt like the world was catching up with something we at ASU have always known,” he said. “Natalie has been doing important teaching and work here for several years that has enabled our students to thrive along with her.”

Even without last year’s MacArthur award, that impact is evident. Diaz’s work has amassed far-reaching acclaim over the last decade and since the release of her first collection, "When My Brother Was an Aztec," by Copper Canyon Press in 2012. But in that first question at Old Main, she invited audience members to think beyond the written word.

“Poetry for me, the least of it is what is happening on my page,” she said. “That is only where it begins.”

Language as a three-dimensional force is a concept Diaz has explored a lot. As a former professional basketball player, she has compared writing to the physical force of playing the sport. In addition to her own writing, she has worked with ASU’s Center for Indian Education to preserve the Mojave language by documenting stories and transcribing conversations with elders.

It is within that cross-boundary lens that Diaz encouraged people at the reading to think of poetry. As society continues to shift, she said, language is a tool to redefine the world.

“Our young people learning languages are now charged with creating new words to describe the things in their life,” she said. “That’s why I think poetry is so important — it is concerned with every single word, and that’s why the humanities are also so important.”

Likewise, Cohen said Diaz’s forward-thinking outlook on language helped usher in a new era of learners.

“One of the many things I admire about Professor Diaz is that she is student-centered,” he said. “Much of what she does here is ensuring that the next generation has every opportunity to flourish.”

In order to stay relevant, Cohen said, humanities studies must resonate with students themselves. Scholars like Diaz exemplify the potential.

“Many of our ASU students are first-generation, and often students of color, and sometimes lacking in models for the various kinds of futures they can make,” he said. “When they look at her, many will see what is possible for themselves.”

That was the case for Laramie Kisto, a Chandler-Gilbert Community College student and member of the Gila River Indian Community, to which Diaz also belongs.

“I’m studying social work, and being able to express my past through poetry is an outlet I’m interested in,” said Kisto, who plans to attend ASU after completing courses at Chandler-Gilbert. “Coming here and seeing someone from my community showed me that there could be an entry for me, too.”

Diaz read a handful of newer works that touched on everything from basketball and family crises to police violence against Native Americans and the very physical sensation of moving one’s hips.

Napoleon Marrietta, a graduate student in the College of Liberal Arts and Sciences’ American Indian Studies program, said the breadth of Diaz’s selection spoke to the power of language in activism.

“My thesis is focused on indigenous activism in the Phoenix area and how we implement different voices to fight for a cause,” he said. “I think poetry can shed some light on a lot of the things we deal with at home.”

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Alumna uses justice studies degree to tackle local politics

Ellie Perez recently attended the State of the Union as congressman's guest

February 13, 2019

Ellie Perez, an alumna of the College of Liberal Arts and Sciences at Arizona State University, was born in Veracruz, Mexico. But since moving to Phoenix with her parents as a toddler, you could say she has had a lifetime of firsts in Arizona.

After getting a work permit through the Obama-era Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) program in 2013, she became the first undocumented person to be employed by the city of Phoenix, working as an aide to Councilwoman Kate Gallego. ASU alumna Ellie Perez with Arizona Congressman Greg Stanton before the State of the Union address in Washington D.C. February 2019. ASU alumna Ellie Perez attended the State of the Union address in February as the guest of Arizona Congressman Greg Stanton. Photo courtesy of Ellie Perez Download Full Image

In 2017, she completed an undergraduate degree in justice studies from the college’s School of Social Transformation and a minor in political science to become the first in her family to graduate from a four-year university. Last year, she cast her ballot as the first-ever DACA superdelegate for the Democratic National Convention. 

Perez attended the State of the Union address earlier this month in Washington, D.C., as the guest of Arizona Congressman and former Phoenix mayor Greg Stanton. Being at the event wasn't a culmination for Perez; it was just the beginning.

“I’ve worked so hard to get to where I am today, and there are people who believe in me,” she said. “Being there, I kind of looked back on everything I’ve done, but I also really looked forward, because there are still so many things to do.”

Her immigration status prohibits Perez from voting herself, but that hasn’t stopped her from taking part in the process. She has been a political organizer for city council races in Phoenix and congressional campaigns for state representatives like Stanton.

Perez answered a few questions about her journey to the Capitol, how her studies at ASU helped shape her and where she's headed next.

Question: You have worked on a number of city council campaigns and tenures in Phoenix. What to you is important about participating in local government?

Answer: You’ve got to start with your own backyard. I grew up in Phoenix’s Sunnyslope neighborhood, and there are still areas within our district that are underserved. There are places with debris on the streets, overgrown bushes and streetlights that are out. Growing up there makes you feel like you have no hope. When my mom moved us to 32nd Street and Cactus Street (another area in Phoenix), I realized people call their council people all the time to fix things like that. City council may not be sexy, but they are some of the most important jobs. They fund the public library where I used to do my homework and the parks I used to go to. They fund the Head Start and after-school programs I used to benefit from. Getting involved was about representation, but it was also about having a voice. It was about giving back to the community that has given so much to me.

Q: What initially attracted you to majoring in justice studies and minoring in political science at the College of Liberal Arts and Sciences? How did it shape what you do today?

A: I was originally a criminal justice major. I always knew political science was what I wanted to do, but … I went to my adviser and was told justice studies might be a better fit for what I was really interested in. At first, I was skeptical, but then I realized these classes talked about protesting, creating a change locally and defining people by who they are. … It was as if the major was tailor-made for me. I was also able to take all these humanities classes that made you ask questions and opened up a space for hard conversations. I learned from professors like Madelaine Adelman, Gray Cavander and Kathryn Nakagawa, and others. 

Q: How would you describe your Sun Devil story?

A: I remember being a little girl and looking at that black shirt with the fork on it. I didn’t know what it meant, I just knew that that’s where everyone went and I wanted to go there, too. Finding out I was undocumented and seeing that may not be an option was a crushing moment. But I also remember my teachers always telling me that education is something no one can take from you, and I used that to keep pushing forward.

Finding out I was admitted to ASU is a moment I won’t forget. It sounds silly, but I made a point of not going to football games, not hiking "A" Mountain, even avoiding Tempe altogether before that happened. It meant something to wait to do all those things until officially becoming a student because it was the epitome of everything that I’d worked for. None of it would have been possible without an entire community behind me, but it was also made possible because of an institution that believes in the potential of people who may not have been born in this country, but love it as if they were.

Q: How did your program and the university help prepare you for success in your field?

A: I walked away from my classes (within the college) with a better understanding that there is intersectionality everywhere — that really helped me talk to constituents. That was something I hadn’t had before. Doing more work in Phoenix is my way of giving back to the institution that allowed me to thrive.

I think ASU created an environment where students feel like it’s OK to ask questions and it’s OK to make mistakes. Those are things that I don’t think any other university could offer me, so it’s not that it’s the only school I applied to, it’s the only one I want to go to. I think it also opened up a door for undocumented students when others did not; sometimes people forget that.

Q: What has been your biggest motivation to succeed professionally?

A: My family. I’m the first person to speak up and tell those of my family members who can vote to do so, because I can’t. I believe it’s up to me to make sure my nephews and nieces have it better than I did, but also that my city is a better place 10 years from now.

Phoenix is where my mother chose to bring me to. Out of all 50 states, she chose Arizona. I want my own children to grow up saying that their mother had a role in making things better for other people. When I go back to a voter’s door and get remembered, that’s huge because people know you are here supporting them. I think that’s the ultimate motivation — being able to help others.

Q: On that note, what is next on your agenda? Where do you see yourself in 10 years?

A: Right now I’m working as a campaign adviser for a city council candidate in south Phoenix and am planning to take the LSAT in June. Without comprehensive immigration reform, there really is no pathway to citizenship for me, but if possible I would like to one day run for public office in the same district I grew up in.

At the same time, I have teachers who played an integral role in my success by believing in me. So I’ve also considered teaching. I remember not having a computer and going to the library to do my homework. If I didn’t have options like that growing up, I might not be where I am now. So no matter what, I want to make sure I give back by doing what I can to improve this city for young people today.

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Music alums selected for national arts leadership and artistic development programs

February 12, 2019

Two Arizona State University School of Music alumni have been selected to participate in the Sphinx Organization’s national arts leadership and artistic development programs dedicated to transforming lives through the power of diversity in the arts.

Tehvon Fowler-Chapman (Bachelor of Music ’15) has been selected to participate in the inaugural SphinxLEAD’s two-year fellowship program aimed at empowering arts administrators and leaders of color to transform the landscape of leadership in the arts. Tehvon Fowler-Chapman Tehvon Fowler-Chapman. Download Full Image

Chaz Salazar (Bachelor of Music ’15, Master of Music ’17) is the recipient of the Sphinx Organization’s National Alliance for Audition Support, an artistic development initiative to provide audition support for artists of color.

The Sphinx Organization was founded by Aaron Dworkin, an appointed member of the National Council on the Arts who, as a young black violinist, was acutely aware of the lack of diversity both on stage and in the audience in concert halls.

“Now that I have shifted into a more administrative role within music, I am looking more than ever for support that will make me effective as an arts administrator, and more importantly, as a leader,” said Fowler-Chapman. “I have a great deal of respect for the work Sphinx has done promoting diversity, equity and inclusion in classical music, and it felt as though the SphinxLEAD program was made for me. I am looking forward to building on my network, learning new ways to look at the arts and learning from other members of the cohort and some of the finest institutions of music in the country.”

Launched in January 2019, SphinxLEAD (Leaders in Excellence, Arts and Diversity) is a new initiative of the Sphinx Organization to inspire and cultivate minority arts leaders. It will “empower arts leaders of color” who are looking to advance their personal and professional growth in order to produce impact in their communities and in the arts field.

The Sphinx Organization’s National Alliance for Audition Support, an unprecedented national initiative funded by the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation, offers black and Latinx musicians audition support through a customized combination of mentoring, audition preparation and financial support. Aimed at increasing diversity in American orchestras, NAAS partners include the New World Symphony and the League of American Orchestras, representing 700 orchestras.

Chaz Salazar

“These grants assist musicians of color by providing the funding for travel and accommodations to auditions as well as audition training,” said Salazar. “These opportunities are invaluable as we work towards more diversity, inclusion and equity in our orchestras.”

Salazar earned both his bachelor’s and master’s degrees in flute performance. He is presently a flute instructor with the Harmony Project Phoenix, an evidence-based, after-school mentoring program that uses music as a means for positive youth development and social inclusion in low-income communities.

Fowler-Chapman earned his bachelor’s degree in instrumental music education and holds a master’s degree in arts administration from Indiana University. He is currently an arts administrator who works at the Wolf Trap Foundation for the Performing Arts in Vienna, Virginia, supporting Wolf Trap’s chamber music programming and Wolf Trap Opera, a leading national residency program for young operatic artists.

“My experience at ASU’s School of Music taught me that there are so many different, amazing ways that people engage in music and art in general, and all of them have a place in our society,” said Fowler-Chapman. “I had so many amazing experiences as a performer, educator and student at ASU, and I’m incredibly thankful that I was able to go to a school that offered so many opportunities both within and outside the School of Music. Those experiences varied greatly while all contributing to the larger picture of who I am now.”

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Discoveries

Study finds lack of mental health interventions for ethnic minority youth in the US

Tempe campus
February 12, 2019

Hispanic and Latino youth are more likely to drink alcohol at a younger age than their African-American and non-Hispanic Caucasian peers, but they are less likely to receive treatment for substance abuse.

African-American youth show more symptoms of attention deficit hyperactivity disorder than their Caucasian peers, but they are less likely to receive appropriate treatment for disruptive behaviors.

The suicide rate among Native Americans has been outpacing the rest of the country since 2003. Suicide is the second-leading cause of death among Native American adolescents, and there are very few effective interventions.

A research team of experts from Arizona State University, DePaul University and the University of Southern California has evaluated the effectiveness of interventions for mental health problems like substance use, disruptive behaviors and suicide prevention in ethnic minority American youth. The study, which was commissioned by Division 53 of the American Psychological Association, will be published Feb. 12 in the Journal of Clinical Child and Adolescent Psychology.

“This careful study provides a benchmark for evidence-based interventions in minority youth, which is central to providing effective care to the diverse youth population and will be very useful to funders of research, payers of health care and family members,” said Margarita Alegria, professor of psychiatry at Harvard Medical School and chief of the Disparities Research Unit at Massachusetts General Hospital. Alegria was not involved in the study. “This evaluation also sets the groundwork for the future, by identifying the need to focus on the development and evaluation of more interventions for minority groups that have not yet been addressed, like Asian-Americans, Native Americans and youth who do not speak English.”

Ten years ago, there were zero evidence-based interventions for American ethnic minority youth that met the strongest criteria and were considered well-established.

Now there are four.

Well-established and evidence-based

To evaluate the effectiveness of mental health interventions for ethnic minority youth, ASU’s Armando Pina, associate professor of psychology, worked with Antonio Polo, associate professor of clinical psychology at DePaul University, and Stanley Huey, associate professor of psychology and American studies and ethnicity at the University of Southern California. The trio rated evidence-based interventions designed to target problems like anxiety, depression, disruptive behavior, substance use, trauma and stress reactions and self-harm or suicide. In total, the team evaluated 65 interventions that had either analyzed the impact on ethnic minority participants or been tested on a participant group that was at least 75 percent ethnic minority youth.

The highest rating was “well-established” and included interventions that were tested using randomized controlled experimental designs, had been replicated by more than one research group and demonstrated benefits to the youth that were statistically significant.

The four interventions that met the well-established criteria were designed to treat anxiety, disruptive behaviors and substance use in ethnic minority youth.

The team found cognitive behavioral interventions were effective at helping Hispanic and Latino youths experiencing anxiety. These interventions teach strategies to change problem thinking patterns and behaviors and often include social skills training.

Interventions that involved parents, called family therapy, helped African-American youth struggling with disruptive behaviors and Hispanic and Latino youth with drug- or alcohol-use problems. Including the family, school system or peer networks in therapy to address disruptive behaviors was also effective in helping African-American youth.

“Parents and caregivers need to know that for some of the most common problems children and adolescents face, there are well-established treatments that have been systematically tested,” said Pina, who was the lead author on the study. “They should demand children get these empirically supported treatments and interventions.”

From bench to bedside

On top of the four well-established interventions, the researchers identified other treatment programs that met less-stringent rating criteria and could be considered best practices in the future.

The analysis also determined which mental health problems did not yet have effective interventions for ethnic minority youth and which minority groups were underrepresented. There were no well-established interventions for depression, trauma and stress reactions, self-harm, suicide or the co-occurrence of more than one problem, like anxiety and disruptive behaviors. And, none of the 65 studies analyzed by the research team included enough Asian-American or Native American participants to evaluate whether any of the interventions were robust for these populations.

Related: Book provides a new framework for making sense of mental illness

“Including Native American youth in research studies is important and requires working directly with tribal nations because they regulate research within their communities. Researchers must invest considerable time to build relationships and establish trust to gain tribal approval for a research study,” said Monica Tsethlikai, assistant professor in ASU’s T. Denny Sanford School of Social and Family Dynamics and an affiliate faculty member of the university’s American Indian Studies program. Tsethlikai was not involved in the study. “Native Americans also have a unique worldview that includes a metaphysical perspective of health and well-being that does not fit within Western interventions, so effective interventions would need to originate from a foundation of respect and reciprocity and would have to be congruent with the lived experiences of Native American youth.”

The team advocated for more research that includes underrepresented ethnic minority populations. Because the trajectory of an evidence-based treatment program from a research setting into the real world takes 17 years on average, the researchers also suggested future work should focus on the development of streamlined methods to develop interventions and test how well they work.

“Research should move outside of the lab and into the community,” Pina said. “Intervention scientists need to increase collaborations with established systems of care and real-world providers, who are under real-world constraints.”

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Top photo: A research team of experts from Arizona State University, DePaul University and the University of Southern California has evaluated the effectiveness of interventions for mental health problems like substance use, disruptive behaviors and suicide prevention in ethnic minority American youth. Photo by Devin Avery on Unsplash

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Global Engagement

Sport continues to drive social change

February 11, 2019

Two former Olympians spoke as part of a Global Sport Institute event about the role athletes play in changing culture

The dominating performances by nine African-American male track athletes in the 1936 Olympics was an inspiration for those who followed them, according to two former Olympians who spoke at Arizona State University on Monday.

The nine black men won 13 total medals in the Olympics in Berlin, under the nose of Adolf Hitler. Of the 15 gold medals won by the U.S. team at those games, eight were won by those nine athletes. 

Their success opened the door for other African-American athletes, including Herbert Douglas, the oldest living African-American Olympic medalist, and Harrison Dillard, the oldest living American gold medalist. Both earned medals in the 1948 Olympics in London; Dillard added two more in 1952. They spoke at an event sponsored by the Global Sport Institute at ASU at the Downtown Phoenix campus. 

The event included a screening of the documentary, “The Renaissance Period of the African-American Athlete in Sports,” which highlights the achievements of those athletes at the 1936 Berlin Olympic Games. The nine were Jesse Owens, one of the greatest Olympians of all time, who won four gold medals; Cornelius Johnson, who won gold for the high jump; John Woodruff, who won gold for the 800-meter; Ralph Metcalfe, who won gold for the 4x100-meter relay and silver for the 100-meter; Archie Williams, who won gold for the 400-meter; David Albritton, who won silver for the high jump; Mack Robinson, who won silver for the 200-meter; James LuValle, who won bronze for the 400-meter; and Frederick “Fritz” Pollard Jr., who won bronze for the 100-meter hurdles.

Douglas, who will be 97 in early March, co-produced the film with Bob Lott and said he was motivated by what happened to Owens, who faced discrimination after he returned from the 1936 Olympics.

“Jesse Owens was the greatest athlete during my time in the 1930s and '40s, when I competed,” said Douglas, who won a bronze medal in the long jump.

“He never won the Sullivan Award, the award for being the greatest amateur athlete in the U.S., even after he electrified the world.”

Years later, Owens told Douglas that the slight stung him.

“I carried that with me, and that’s why I told Bob we had to do something and make this film,” Douglas said.

The documentary described the personal and professional success of the nine men after their Olympic years. Pollard earned a law degree and had a long career in the Foreign Service. Metcalfe earned a master’s degree from the University of Southern California and went on to become a U.S congressman.

The discussion was moderated by Victoria Jackson, a sports historian and lecturer of history in the School of Historical, Philosophical and Religious Studies at ASU. 

“If we look at African-American athletes in the country, they are the best and brightest because they always had to be better,” she said.

“When we say that sport is just a pastime, and this stuff doesn’t really matter, and we want to step away from the reality of the world and have fun — it’s simply not the case. 

“Every type of system at work in the broader society is in sport as well.”

After the successes of 1936, discrimination persisted. Dillard, 95, described how during the 1948 Olympics, the black athletes were segregated.

“The African-American athletes intentionally, or accidentally perhaps, all lived together in one area of the village. That’s all I ever say about it. We were in a section that was just us,” he said.

Dillard won gold medals in the 100-meter and the 4x100 relay in London, and two more gold medals in the 1952 Olympics in Helsinki, in the 110-meter hurdles and 4x100 relay.

Douglas was asked about the current activism of current athletes, including Colin Kaepernick, a former player in NFL who protested police killings of black people by kneeling during the national anthem.

“If I had done that when I was playing football for Pitt, I wouldn’t be here today,” Douglas said. “Through the years I watched the progress. How many African-Americans play football today? Seventy percent. It’s the first time we have had the leverage to do that.”

Dillard said that sports has always driven social change.

“I think that athletes have become more apparent in making America live up to its dream that all men are created equal,” he said.

“There is no doubt that sports has played an immensely great part in that story.”

Dillard then addressed Douglas, his friend:

“Herb, maybe we’ll live long enough to see it get a little bit better. Let’s hope so.”

Top photo: (From left) Victoria Jackson, sports historian and lecturer of history, with Harrison Dillard, the oldest-living American gold medalist, and Herbert Douglas, the oldest-living African-American Olympic medalist, after the screening of "The Renaissance of the African-American Athlete." Photo by Marcus Chormicle/ASU Now

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Arizona Impact

Turning trauma into hope for Arizona’s DACA recipients

February 7, 2019

How College of Liberal Arts and Sciences alumna Reyna Montoya is helping undocumented students find their voice

When Reyna Montoya first moved to Mesa, Arizona, in 2003, it was hard to feel at home.

Violence had forced her family from Tijuana, Mexico, when she was 10 years old, and they’d been making 4 a.m. car trips from the Arizona border to her Phoenix-area school ever since. Now living in Mesa full time, talking about that part of her life felt like a taboo.

“It was very much a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ kind of thing — growing up undocumented,” she said. “I didn’t really understand how policies impacted my life until I went to apply to college or get a driver’s license and seeing that I wasn’t able.”

Montoya is one of tens of thousands of undocumented young people across the country to receive protection under the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) program since its inception in 2012. But the program wasn’t available when Montoya was growing up.  

Instead, she navigated the labyrinth of barriers on her own and enrolled at Arizona State University out of high school. In her sophomore year, an immigration and economic policy class through the School of Transborder Studies made her realize she wasn’t alone.

“A lot of my own stories were connected to those policies,” she said. “It was like, ‘OK, there are others like me; I’m not the only one who is being affected.”

Montoya completed a Bachelor of Arts in political science and another in transborder studies, both from the College of Liberal Arts and Sciences, along with a minor in dance in 2012. Today she also holds a master’s degree in secondary education from Grand Canyon University.

Learning about the policies affecting her own life empowered Montoya to help spur change. Now, less than a decade since she graduated, her advocacy network AlientoThe Spanish word "aliento" translates as both "breath" and "encouragement." is giving new DACA generations the support to do the same.

Student leaders from Aliento's youth fellowship program in a meeting at the group's Mesa office.

Student participants of Aliento's youth fellowship program meet with Montoya and other staffers ahead of the group's Education Day event. Aliento currently has five fellows from Phoenix-area high schools, community colleges and universities advocating for access to higher education and relief from other barriers of being undocumented. 

Photo by Alisa Reznick
A t-shirt donning Aliento's mission of "transforming trauma into hope and action" and material for the group's latest campaign pushing for in-state tuition for DACA recipients is displayed at their office in Mesa.

A T-shirt spotlighting Aliento's mission of "transforming trauma into hope and action" is presented with other promotional materials during an informational event at the group's Mesa office. 

Photo by Alisa Reznick
Student participants from schools around Arizona take part in Aliento's Education Day event, where activists lobbied state and local representatives to support affordable in-state tuition for DACA recipients in Arizona. Photo by Diego Lozaro at Aliento.

Student participants from schools around Arizona take part in Aliento's Education Day event, where activists lobbied state and local representatives to support affordable in-state tuition for DACA recipients in Arizona. 

Photo by Diego Lozaro/Aliento
Aliento founder Reyna Montoya leads an informational meeting at the group's office in Mesa, Arizona.

Through a combination of youth leadership initiatives, art and music events and educational outreach programs, Montoya's Aliento aims to create a multifaceted space where undocumented students and families can advocate for themselves.

Photo by Alisa Reznick
Students meet with Arizona Senate representative Frank Pratt during Aliento's Education Day event in January.

Students meet with Arizona state Sen. Frank Pratt during Aliento's Education Day event in January. 

Photo by Diego Lozaro/Aliento
Student fellows meet with Montoya and other staffers at Aliento's office in Mesa ahead of Education Day.
A t-shirt donning Aliento's mission of "transforming trauma into hope and action," is presented with other promotional materials during an informational event at the group's Mesa office.
Student participants from schools around Arizona take part in Aliento's Education Day event, where activists lobbied state and local representatives to support affordable in-state tuition for DACA recipients in Arizona.
Aliento founder Reyna Monoya leads a group of participants during an informational meeting at the group's office in Mesa, Arizona.

The birth of Aliento

After leaving ASU, she was eager to join the fight to help undocumented people like her. But working in national advocacy groups, she felt disillusioned by how much was going into what felt like few discernible results. The feeling worsened when, a year after graduation, her father’s deportation proceedings sent the family tumbling into crisis.

“I didn’t really know how to process the idea of not having my dad,” she said. “During that time my refuge was dance — it was my escape.”

After a nine-month legal battle, Montoya’s father was granted the right to stay in the United States. By then, she was working as a high school teacher in south Phoenix and hearing from students whose experiences with immigration policy mirrored her own. Getting DACA protection didn’t always mean the end of their problems, and the national aid groups she’d started out working for still seemed to be having little impact on the ground. Montoya started to think that if she’d found solace in expression and education, maybe others could too.

“I wanted a place where young people could go to process these feelings, while also trying to change the policies and structures causing the trauma in the first place,” she said.

Joining forces with Ileana Salinas, an alumna of the ASU Department of Psychology, Montoya invited families across Maricopa County to talk about their concerns. In 2016, a packed forum addressing DACA, deportation and immigration marked the birth of Aliento.

Over two years later, the group hosts regular art and music workshops, community organizing initiatives and informational sessions. A fellowship program also pulls younger students into the leadership fold, including some from ASU and community colleges across the Valley. The venture has also earned Montoya a spot on the Forbes 30 Under 30 list and a Spirituality Award from the Muhammad Ali Humanitarian Awards.

A new era of activism

Montoya says her diverse studies within the college provided an interdisciplinary framework for the holistic approach she employs today.

“I was learning about my own identity within current policies while at the same time thinking about the role of government in society in my political science classes, and then really making sense of it all through dance,” she said. “It really allowed me to find my own voice and create something entirely my own.”

Going forward, she sees Aliento giving the next generation of leaders the space to do the same.

That vision was showcased this January at Aliento’s Education Day. In 2018, an Arizona Supreme Court ruling disallowed in-state tuition rates for DACA recipients, shooting costs up as much as 200 percent.

Almost a year later, the Aliento event gathered some 250 undocumented students and allies from around Arizona to tell state and local lawmakers how they’d been affected. Dressed in business attire, they headed to the Capitol to make their case to representatives.

For Montoya, the event demonstrated her group’s impact.

“It was really beautiful getting to witness all the leadership development we’ve been doing with youth get put into action,” she said. “There were kids as young as 14 leading meetings with legislators and telling their stories.”

These days, Montoya wears a necklace in the shape of Arizona around her neck. She says it’s hard to imagine being anywhere else. Even as the future of DACA remains uncertain, Aliento is a chance to give back.

“Going to ASU and meeting other ‘Dreamers,’ it really made me feel less alone,” she said. “There is so much hope and resilience in young people, I want this to be the place they’re reminded they have the power to change the things they don’t like.”

Top photo: College of Liberal Arts and Sciences alumna Reyna Montoya is the founder of Aliento, a support network for undocumented students and families that aims to foster the next generation of community leaders. Photo by Alisa Reznick

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ASU New College professor receives 2019 AAAS Mentor Award

February 7, 2019

Erika Camacho, an associate professor in the School of Mathematical and Natural Sciences at Arizona State University’s New College of Interdisciplinary Arts and Sciences, is the winner of the 2019 Mentor Award, presented by the American Association for the Advancement of Science.

The award honors midcareer academics who have mentored a significant number of underrepresented PhD students and have otherwise played an important role in building a science, technology, engineering and mathematics community that includes women, minorities and people with disabilities. The hundreds of underrepresented students whom Camacho has guided through graduate school include the first Native Hawaiian to receive a PhD in applied mathematics and one of the few African-American women to graduate from Cornell University with a PhD in applied mathematics. Dr. Erika Camacho working with students in her classroom Erika Camacho mentors applied mathematics students Roberto Alvarez and Danielle Brager at ASU's New College of Interdisciplinary Arts and Sciences. The AAAS award recognizes her work assisting hundreds of underrepresented students in STEM fields. Photo by Richard Holland Download Full Image

“It is critical to the health and excellence of the STEM fields that we build a diverse and inclusive community,” said Shirley Malcom, senior adviser to AAAS. “We can only accomplish this through the commitment, belief and dedication of individual mentors who embrace the difficult and rewarding work of supporting the development of the next generation of scholars, future faculty and innovators. Erika Camacho exemplifies this drive and these ideals.”

Camacho was born in Guadalajara, Mexico, and grew up in Los Angeles. She became the first in her family to receive a high school diploma when she graduated from James A. Garfield High School. There, she had studied calculus under Jaime Escalante, the beloved Bolivian-American educator who was the subject of the 1988 film "Stand and Deliver."

“I got to where I am today because I had incredible mentors and individuals who believed in me,” Camacho said when the youth development organization Kids at Hope named her honorary dean of its 2018 National Youth Development Master’s Institute. “One of the first people who believed in me was my high school teacher Jaime Escalante.”

Camacho continued to look to Escalante for support during her years as an undergraduate.

“When people would tell me that I was just there to fulfill a quota, when I just wanted to pack my bags and go home, I would call him,” she told Kids at Hope. She graduated from Wellesley College cum laude in 1997, with degrees in mathematics and economics.

In 2003, Camacho earned her PhD in applied mathematics from Cornell University. In 2007, after a year as a postdoctoral researcher at Los Alamos National Laboratory and three years on the faculty of Loyola Marymount University, she joined ASU. Her research focuses on mathematical modeling for use in biology and sociology. She is best known for publishing the first set of mechanistic models to study degenerative disease of the retina.

As a mentor, Camacho works to pass along the inspiration she received from Escalante and others. Her guidance has often made the difference between underrepresented students dropping out and earning their PhD. She founded the Applied Mathematical Sciences Summer Institute and co-directed the Mathematical and Theoretical Biology Institute, providing mentorship to 138 students, of whom 76 were women and 76 were underrepresented minority students. More than 100 of these students have completed doctorate degrees. Camacho has also mentored more than 600 undergraduates and reaches wider audiences by telling her story in keynote addresses and plenary presentations.

In 2018, Camacho received the Presidential Award for Excellence in Science, Mathematics and Engineering Mentoring. Administered by the National Science Foundation on behalf of the White House Office of Science and Technology Policy, the award is the highest honor bestowed upon mentors who work to expand talent in the STEM fields.

The AAAS Mentor Award was established in 1993 and is directed toward individuals in the middle stage of their careers, defined by 25 years or less of mentoring experience. Camacho will receive the award during the 185th AAAS annual meeting in Washington, D.C., on Feb. 17.

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Discoveries

Afrofuturism explores science fiction but is rooted in the past

Downtown Phoenix campus Tempe campus
February 7, 2019

ASU hosts Afrofuturist film screening and lecture to examine themes of equity and inclusion in alternate science fiction for Black History Month

AfrofuturismAfrofuturism has also been called the Black Speculative Arts Movement. is a long-emerging art and cultural movement that views music, literature, films and television through a black lens.

Somewhat controversial, the term — an intersection of sci-fi, art and black pride — was coined by a white writer a quarter-century ago but has roots in the work of sociologist W.E.B. Du Bois. Since then, Afrofuturism has gone from strength to strength and has entered the mainstream realm.

It can be seen in blockbuster movies such as "Black Panther," the music videos of Janelle Monae and in the literature of Sheree Renée Thomas.

In celebration of Black History Month, Arizona State University will host two events on Afrofuturism:

• 7 p.m. Feb. 12 — ASU’s Center for Science and the Imagination is partnering with FilmBar in Phoenix for a screening of "Blade." Based on a Marvel comics character, the 1998 action-horror flick is a groundbreaking Afrofuturist work that led to paradigm-shifting genre films like "Black Panther." Buy tickets.

• 2 p.m. Feb. 13 — ASU’s Center for Science and the Imagination, the Institute for Humanities Research and the School for the Future of Innovation in Society will co-host an event on the ASU Tempe campus with film critic and philosopher Steven Shaviro, who will lecture on Afrofuturism and “cyborg feminism,” using popular media as the lens to examine themes of equity and inclusion in alternate science fiction. The event is free, but seating is limited. RSVP.

ASU Now spoke with Michael Bennett, an associate research professor and assistant director in ASU’s School for the Future of Innovation in Society, the Center for Science and the Imagination and the Risk Innovation Lab, as well as a lecturer in the Sandra Day O’Connor College of Law. Bennett took time to answer a few questions about Afrofuturism before he hosts the vampire-themed screening and discussion of "Blade" on Feb. 12 at FilmBar.

African American man in blue jacket

Michael Bennett

Question: Can you define Afrofuturism, and why is it important to African-American art? 

Answer: Any attempt define Afrofuturism is akin to efforts to define other rich domains of artistic and art-inspired activity — say, a subfield of modern English-language poetry or punk rock. Can you generate a definition? Sure. But having that definition express anything vital about Afrofuturism is virtually impossible.

Like those subfields of poetry and punk rock, Afrofuturism is dynamic: more like a conversation than cement.

Nevertheless, if the work foregrounds both black people and technoscience, if it explores one or more ways to convert catastrophe into an energy source for more and better living on the part of black people, and if it presents concepts of time — past, alternate pasts' presents, alternate presents, futures — as intrinsically political, then the odds are good you’re being confronted by an Afrofuturist work.

Q: Afrofuturist ideas seem to go beyond cinema and can be seen in music, television and other art forms. When did this genre begin, and how did it develop over the years?

A: Pursuit of a meaningful origin story and birth date for Afrofuturism are also quixotic and bound to disappoint. Certainly Afrofuturism gains considerable momentum in the early 2000s as institutional and independent scholars like Alondra Nelson and Sheree Thomas start exploring the domain. It’s noteworthy that women have always occupied the center of gravity of Afrofuturism.

However, as far as the musical, textual and visual fodder go, Afrofuturists lay claim to works stretching back to the mid-20th century, like the works of Sun Ra and Nichelle Nichols' depiction of Uhura in "Star Trek," and even earlier to W.E.B. Du Bois' speculative fiction. Some Afrofuturists stretch back to the 19th century, even, and claim Martin Delany, the progenitor of black nationalist thought, and his fictional writings as kindred.

However, Afrofuturism had expanded, helium-like, to encompass a wide scope of mostly artworks, but also philosophical perspectives, and increasingly political projects focused on black culture, technoscience and futurity.

Q: On Feb. 12 you’ll be hosting a screening of "Blade" starring Wesley Snipes. You have credited this movie as a “groundbreaking Afrofuturist work," saying it provides the foundation for the paradigm-shifting films we’re seeing today. Why do you believe this to be true?

A: When "Blade" was released in 1998, Marvel Studios was nearly on its deathbed. "Blade" was essentially a Hail Mary effort on the part of the studio. Wesley Snipes had dreamed of doing a "Black Panther" movie at that time, but the project failed to launch. Snipes took his thoughts about how "Black Panther" should be presented onscreen and used them to fashion "Blade."

"Blade" turned into a financial success for Marvel. But, importantly, it also served as proof of concept for both Marvel superhero films writ large and, importantly, the viability of such films centering on a black character and aesthetic. In that sense, "Blade" paved the way for "Black Panther," but only after "Black Panther" paved the way for "Blade."

Q: What are some other Afrofuturist movies or roles you can point to in cinema and television?

A: In addition to "Blade" and "Black Panther," there's "Sorry to Bother You," "Get Out," "The Matrix," "Brother from Another Planet," "They Live," "Born in Flames" and "A Wrinkle in Time." Much of the music and music videos of Janelle Monae, "Hidden Figures," Uhura/"Star Trek," Dualla/"Battlestar Galactica" reboot, Colonel Tigh/"Battlestar Galactica" [1978-79 series], and original Lando and Finn in the Star Wars films.

Q: Where do you see Afrofuturism going from here?

A: I see three different future directions of Afrofuturism: In one, Afrofuturism fizzles after another five to 10 years, say around 2030. A new phase of black cultural production becomes fashionable, attractively edgy or politically necessary and obsolesces Afrofuturism.

In a second, Afrofuturism calcifies into a hegemonic mode of art accounting for the majority of the work produced by members of the African diaspora.

It's also possible, perhaps even probable, that Afrofuturism becomes the fuel for a genuine political movement, or perhaps a political party. 

Top photo: Cover art by John Jennings from "Afrofuturism: The World of Black Sci Fi & Fantasy Culture" by Ytasha Womack.

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Arizona Impact

Adding a new perspective to the editor's desk

Downtown Phoenix campus Tempe campus
February 4, 2019

2 Native American students at the helm of ASU-sponsored publications

Journalism, a profession with few minorities — and even fewer Native Americans — is now starting to see change.

Taylor Notah, a graduate of the Walter Cronkite School of Journalism and Mass Communication, and Joseph Perez, a journalism sophomore at Cronkite, are editors of two Arizona State University-sponsored publications this semester.

Both come from indigenous backgrounds.

Notah hails from the Navajo Nation and is the current editor of Turning Points, a first-of-its-kind magazine geared specifically for Native American students written by an all indigenous staff.

Perez is a member of the Quinalt tribe from northwestern Washington and is a community editor for The State Press, which was founded in 1906.

Both love telling stories. And both have their own stories to tell.

ASU Now spoke with Notah and Perez about their struggles in the newsroom, overcoming the cultural challenges of the job and how they picked up leadership skills along the way.

Question: Historically it’s been tough getting minorities into the newsroom, despite initiatives and efforts from schools, universities and newspapers from across the country. What was it like for you at the Cronkite School being the only Native American in the classroom?

Taylor Notah: It was challenging but I loved gaining the experience. Knowing to go out and report, learning how to shoot video, things like that. Gaining those skill sets was fun for me. I think being in the newsroom was a challenge because I was the only Native American in Cronkite News, and I didn’t see myself amid all of these young budding professionals who had these really great stories and great backgrounds. In the beginning I felt disconnected with my peers and I didn’t see myself among them.

Joseph Perez: Sitting in a room full of talented journalists every day is intimidating for me, no matter my lineage or theirs. However, when I do take the time to notice, as I often do, that I am typically the only Native American in that room full of talent, the intimidation I feel is magnified greatly. It’s never comforting to be the only person of your kind — whatever that "kind" may be — and even less comforting during these vastly important years in college, where we’re all doing our best to find ourselves, to define who we’ll be in the world. That’s why I did my best to cover Native American affairs as a reporter, to talk to more indigenous students, to incorporate the culture into my work and ultimately to serve as a voice for a people that I think isn’t loud enough in the media today.

Q: Were there any cultural hurdles you had to get over because of the nature of the profession?

TN: I grew up very shy, and so approaching people was the biggest hurdle. On the Navajo Nation, we often tease each other for being shy, and being off of the Navajo Nation being shy is something different. It’s something I still encounter and struggle with when I initially reach out to people even though I love connecting with people to hear their stories. I think a cultural disconnect can be the person I’m interviewing may not understand where I come from. Being in the newsroom you’re being put under the spotlight because they want to hear your stories and they want to hear your ideas. It was very jarring and in the beginning, it was a completely different experience for me.

JP: It was a bit difficult for me to come out of my shell at first, but the newsroom I work in has been beyond accepting of my indigenous roots, and they’ve even encouraged me to use that piece of me and share it with our readership. I have had the best mentors at the State Press that have taught me that who I am and where I come from gives me something worth writing about, not something to overcome. They’ve shown me that my Native American identity is a leg up rather than a hurdle to climb over.

Q: So what made you ultimately stick with journalism?

TN: Because I had story ideas: No one in the newsroom knew what was going on in the community that I came from. My first story for Cronkite was about language revitalization among the Navajo Nation … I would hear from back home the language was declining at a very fast rate. I wanted to report on that because stories about Native Americans aren’t always negative. Yes, our language is declining but there are so many amazing things that are happening by our people who are trying to make the language come back. So I wanted to show that … and that stems from the mission in my work to show the beauty and the resilience and the strengths that Native Americans have. What people in mainstream media always see are stereotypes and misconceptions, and I wanted to turn that around.

JP: Journalism is what I love. I’ve been a writer for a good chunk of my life, and finding this niche where I can write, but write something worth reading is all I could ever ask for. I’ve never once doubted whether this is what I want to do, and the fact that I can do this incredibly important job while offering a voice to my people is a dream come true.

Q: Any major turning point for you?

TN: We did this intermediate reporting class, taught by Maureen West. I actually took that class two times. The first time I tried reporting how I thought they wanted me to report — I’d go to these council meetings in Mesa or cover an event, and I didn’t really connect with it. I just bombed because I was trying to step into a world where I didn’t feel connected. So I retook the class with Maureen West and she really pushed and encouraged me. She told me that I had good story ideas and that I should pursue them. So I began seeking stories in Native communities where I felt comfortable reporting. I first got published through the Gila River Indian Community, and the editor said they had a story I could write. I had to have six stories to pass the class. So with GRIC, they realized that both of us are helping each other if we tell our stories together.

JP: A major turning point in my journalistic endeavors was when I began writing for the State Press. I had a job doing what I loved, and I felt like a shark that had smelled blood. I got a taste for reporting as a job, and walking into that newsroom every Thursday night only assured me that this is what I was meant to do. I believe that everybody has a purpose, and as soon as I started writing for this student-run publication, I knew that I had found mine. Writing and now editing for the State Press has made me sure that there’s nothing else in the world I’d rather do than this.

Q: How did the opportunity come up for your current position?

TN: I was on the Navajo reservation one summer and I got an email from Rebecca Blatt, my director at Cronkite News, who mentioned a possible podcast opportunity. She connected me with Dr. Amanda Tachine at the Center for Indian Education who was looking for someone to do a podcast, and I had experience in that from Cronkite. So we connected and I found out about “Turning Points,” and heard they needed someone to finish a few stories. That was my reconnection to Native communities and stories on campus. That’s where it all came back for me and where I find myself now. I’m honored with all of these connections that brought me to my current path now.

JP: This past fall was my second semester writing for the State Press and I had decided to take on a full-time reporting position. It was arduous. I had a really hard time, but I was always proud of the work I did, and it seemed that my editors were as well. It came up in conversation with my editors and leadership that editor applications were opening and I decided I would apply. Friends of mine told me that I’d undoubtedly get the job, but I was extremely nervous to apply nonetheless. Of course, I filled out an application the very day they were open and interviewed for the spot on the very first day I was available to do so. Needless to say, I got the position and I couldn’t be happier with where I am.

Q: Why do you think that historically many young Native Americans have not pursued a career in journalism? And how can this trend be reversed? 

TN: Maybe it’s because they don’t see themselves in this role. I certainly didn’t. All of my other friends pursued other careers and I was the only one in my group who gravitated toward the Cronkite program.

To reverse this, I would say we come from a long line of strong indigenous people and that we can do it. We may be in places that weren’t originally designed for us, but if we think of the need of our community and family, we can achieve anything. That’s where our strength comes from. We face so many obstacles, but in the end we have the teachings from our culture to persist and keep going.

JP: I think it’s hard for Native Americans to pursue a career in journalism because we already feel so underrepresented. Journalism has been a white man’s business for so long and I think it’s hard for any minority to go out on a limb and try to make something of themselves in a field where almost nobody shares their ethnic roots. It’s intimidating. That’s not to say that Native Americans aren’t bold or brave, because that’s so far from the truth. It’s to say how intensely horrifying it is to be the only indigenous person in any field, especially one as important and daunting as the journalistic field. A lack of representation can be a huge hurdle to overcome, and I think it’s a vicious cycle: Natives don’t pursue careers in journalism because there are no Natives in journalism.

The key to changing this is to see our aloneness the way my peers at the State Press taught me to: as an advantage. Newsrooms everywhere are trying to diversify their staff and with so few indigenous people in the field now, the few will stand out to publications. We need to see ourselves not as unwelcome, but as unique. We need to see ourselves as special, because that’s what we are.

I also think that we need to see how important it is that our voice is heard. Without Native American journalists, our voice will never be heard and I think that we, as a people, need to recognize our duty to ourselves to make sure that we are heard — and heard loud and clear.

Top photo: Taylor Notah (left) and Joseph Perez are Native Americans and editors of two Arizona State University-sponsored publications this semester. Notah graduated from Cronkite School of Journalism and Mass Communication and is the senior editor at "Turning Points, A Guide to Native Student Success." Perez is a sophomore at Cronkite and is the community editor at "The State Press." Photo by Charlie Leight/ASU Now

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