announcer: This program was made possible in part by a grant from Margaret A. Cargill Philanthropies.

Cara Romero: I am infatuated with indigenous science and traditional ecological knowledge.

Traditional ecological knowledge are the old sciences that exist from different bio regions that are so sophisticated and so undervalued in modern society, and Golga's work has really sophisticated traditional ecological knowledge techniques and I really wanted to highlight those to just really elevate the visibility and the status of, you know, something that I think in society is undervalued, the ways that they're engaging in cultural revitalization in the north around preparing hides, something that's been around for thousands of years, and they're learning it again.

You know, they're making sure that it doesn't go by the wayside.

And those sciences are far more spiritual than just, you know, western science, these ideas of how everything's connected.

Those bold old techniques speak to the health of the environment, the health of the culture, and beauty.

♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ Diego Romero: Cara is a mover and a shaker.

Leah Mata Fragua: Her vision is broad.

Crickett Tiger: She's just very nice, driven, down to earth.

Bridget Sandate: So humble.

Leah: You feel like you're not going to be exploited.

Crickett: Such a beautiful person, like, inside and out.

Bridget: I don't know how she does it.

Diego: I just kind of follow her around like a puppy.

Crickett: She's everything.

Yeah.

All the good stuff.

♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ Cara: I grew up kind of straddled between cultures.

My dad's Native American and my mom is Anglo, and I had this experience after my parents split of going back and forth between the Chemehuevi Valley Indian Reservation and this urban epicenter of Houston, Texas.

And as I grew to mature as an artist, the art began to be a fusion of those two worlds.

♪♪♪ Cara: Sometimes you just have that one instructor that changes your life, and his name was Bill Thomas at the University of Houston.

And I had never picked up a camera before.

Coming into the dark room at the university at that age was really intimidating, and Bill emphasized content over technical ability.

And it took me a while for my craft to catch up to my mind, but it changed my life and I just had this really healthy compulsion that happens when you find your thing.

Always wanted to get better.

I always had more stories to tell, like, a never-ending wellspring of ideas.

Cara: I think that all artists that are in school begin by emulating what's out there, you know, who were the greats.

For native photography, that was really Edward Curtis.

So my early black and white photographs are sepia-toned.

They were often asking my friends to, you know, dress up in regalia and let's go do this figurative landscape piece.

And I'm really proud of the work, but at some point I was able to identify that that content was disingenuous.

They captured the world's imagination, but they also contributed to, like, this pause in time where I was like, "We don't even do this," you know.

Like, "Who does this in our native community?"

And so it kind of became, like, this funny examination of why are we continuing to represent ourselves in this, like, historic context.

♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ Cara: Native Americans, we often get framed as only living in our isolated parallel universe when we're actually thriving in urban epicenters and really astute in pop culture and then simultaneously we have a lot of tradition that's been around for a very long time.

Diego: Many times we tend to view culture or tradition as these stagnant paradigms, and I think really culture, it's more of a stream that flows through time.

As it hits a rock, which could be capitalism, manifest destiny, cultural appropriation, river has to flow around and over it and adjust itself.

Otherwise it shrinks and dries up and becomes nonexistent.

Cara really has her pulse on what's relevant in our culture today.

Cara: Pop culture is a really useful visual tool to help people understand the modernity of my community using iconic landscapes like the wind turbines of Palm Springs or the famous Abbey Road, the work with Marcus Amerman, with buffalo man and all of those pop cultural references.

I was like, "I'm going to make these photographs that show that we understand your culture."

Humor is medicine, but it does also have all of these unintended outcomes.

It really does keep us safe from exploitation and this need to, like, have insight into our cultural privacy or our ceremonies or traditions.

We're human.

Cara: I would say the way that Chemehuevi really comes through in my work is really about the cultural landscape and the people.

There's this kind of feeling when you're from a certain indigenous place that your bones are from there, that you know your DNA has emerged from this place for thousands of years.

And how do you portray the emotion of that in photography, the inseparability of Native Americans to their cultural landscape?

My work has political response to how our landscape has changed to development in our ancestral territory.

We believe our ancestors are all around us in the landscape.

And if people had a better understanding of that, would they be kinder to the landscape, would they see that the desert is not this big, empty space but really has this, like, incredible, rich history of indigenous peoples living and thriving there for thousands of years?

♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ Bridget: Most of us call this place a paradise.

We have our mountains.

We have our desert, the water, very prime real estate compared to most places.

Most people just see the desert as just this massive wasteland, and to us it's everything to us.

It's our church.

It's a food store.

It's where we belong.

Cara: A hundred and fifty years ago we were really known for our ability to traverse the Mojave Desert, knowing how to get from watering hole to watering hole, knowing where all of the cultural resources are, including shady areas, springs, all the different flora and fauna.

Bridget: We are known for basketry.

We didn't have fancy regalia, but our baskets were probably our most-prized possessions 'cause they were one of the few baskets made in the Americas that hold water.

Cara: We spoke a trade language, which is Uto-Aztecan.

So we were the people that were helping the southwest tribes get their items all the way from the coast of California.

Bridget: In 1860 there was 3.6 million acres taken away from both California and Arizona, and then with the creation of the Hoover Dam and Parker Dam we were officially moved out in about the early 1930s.

We all had to move to the Colorado River Indian Tribe where we were given land allotments.

There's gaps in our timeline that even we're still trying to figure out.

Because of the displacement, so much language and ceremony, so many things just don't exist anymore.

Cara: California has one of the most brutal colonial histories in the United States.

There were waves of genocidal war that came to California, starting with the Spanish and then there was the Mexican era and then there were the forty-niners, right?

The gold rush came through.

Boarding schools, loss of language, massive loss of land, slavery, indentured servitude.

I mean, the stories are really, really tragic.

And this didn't just go on, like, in the 1800s, this was all the way up past the turn of the century into the 1920s and the 1930s and the 1940s in California.

Our reservation reorganized and was re-established in the late '60s, which was really common for a lot of tribes post-termination era.

There's so much history involved, right?

Chemehuevis did gain their federal recognition, which is something that tribes along the coast are still trying to gain.

Federal recognition gives them access to land base, which is the whole land back movement that you're seeing happen.

Today we live on a pretty typical reservation with a pretty boilerplate constitution.

We have HUD houses along the river, which is now upon the Mesa, and we practice agriculture.

Our source of economy is fishing, boating, resort, gaming.

So really, like, a drastic change from 100 years ago.

Bridget: Despite everything that we've lost, even though we're kind of holding on by strings, we're still a very proud people.

We're very proud to just still be here and to have such beautiful land.

We hold onto it very, very dearly.

Cara: I really want my photographs for my community to have this feeling of celebration of who we are, of surviving, of the things that were kept safe for our generation.

♪♪♪ Cara: In modern times, people, they're like, "Why don't you speak your language?

Why don't you guys dress a certain way?"

And I think that there's, like, such a pushback and like such an exhaustion with, you know, California native peoples, it's like, "Because you forcefully took it all away."

Conversely, some of them exist against all odds, and I do like to examine that in my photographs.

If you look at the photograph of Naomi and the work of Leah Mata Fragua, it's all about that.

It's all about California culture that exists against all odds.

Leah: Most of my work centers around the invisibility of California Indian narratives and environmental impacts to California Indians.

It's a lot of intersectionality in my work of environment, activism, different cultures, and I just love how Cara can take that and then translate it even better into a different medium.

Cara: I always lean really heavily on friends and family to hone in on story, starting with a lot of interviews of other California native people.

One of the common themes that emerged was these areas of really sought-after real estate where the indigenous peoples had been displaced knowing that it was no coincidence that these areas were rich in both gold and oil.

Leah and I decided to work specifically on that story by outfitting our daughters in regalia of California peoples, one dipped in gold and the other dipped in oil, right there in front of a refinery in El Segundo.

We were working on poses to evoke this psychological story of, "Stop and look what you've done."

So it was a moment of pause for people.

I think it really speaks to native audience because they can see themselves in this really modern urban landscape, and it places us here in time.

♪♪♪ Leah: I am an adjunct professor at IAIA, and I had a few students that were involved in dance, and just hearing some of their stories I had thought about what is that experience for brown people or indigenous people to partake in classical arts, and I was thinking, "Well, what if we were to indigenize ballet and use the materials that we use for our dance regalias, but just put them in a classical design?"

And I was explaining the idea to Cara 'cause I knew she'd be the only person on earth that will understand it, and she's like, "Oh, Crickett's a dancer, and maybe we could shoot."

Leah: When you get the lead, it's called the principal.

And so I really wanted to create a dress for Crickett so that she could be that lead and have that visibility as an indigenous ballerina.

I always use cultural resources in my work to highlight the scarcity and limited access to them.

Most of the birds that we traditionally use are on the endangered species list.

So as we're losing access to a lot of materials, how do you not participate in that extinction process but still be able to carry on those art forms?

And so one of the things that I had to try and do is learn how to take other materials and craft them to look like traditional materials.

Every single one of those feathers was individually sewn on.

All those little tiny sequins of abalone shell I cut by hand.

It's so nice to be able to share with someone I know I won't have to explain because she gets it.

Crickett: The regalia is beautiful.

Like, I've of course done other fittings for dance, but this was just a whole different experience 'cause it was made for me.

I could relate to it way more than anything else.

Ballet has a very stereotypical person.

Growing up all I've seen were ballerinas that didn't look like me.

Being one of the only indigenous girls at my school, it was hard at times.

I wasn't chosen for swans or anything like that, and I think what Cara and what everybody was wanting to do on set was just try to break that mold.

♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ Crickett: Up there by the ocean and in the sand I did feel like a bird of my own that's just as beautiful as a swan.

♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ Cara: It's really important as a native person to adhere to strict cultural protocol, especially when you're in another people's indigenous landscape, and whether you're native or not it's really important to know whose land you're on.

Nobody can tell somebody's story as well as they can tell their own.

And as we talk about things like decolonization and doing things that are meaningful, I thought I would share the billboards with Tongva artists.

And so the final series of billboards was truly a collaboration between myself and the Tongva community.

Bridget: Her narrative is that we are still here.

There's indigenous people.

All around we have stories to tell, we have artwork to make, we have things to do.

Diego: It's endless, you know, once you start down the road of narrative.

And if you're in the zeitgeist of the time, then there's no shortage of narrative.

Cara: When I started out it was really just about, you know, I'm going to print this over gelatin and put it in a frame and that was the end of it, and now the applications of being a photographer are much bigger than I ever anticipated.

I love that Native American youth are able to see my photographs on their phone and public arts become a thing and be able to put them on billboards.

It's like this incredible adaptability of the medium to deliver that mission of creating visibility, creating awareness, creating these ideas of how contemporary, how diverse we are, and always combating that one-story narrative.

You know, you got two pages in your textbook, you know, starting in second or third grade about Native American history.

As we've become wealthier, gotten more education, gotten access to equipment and technology, crossed the digital divide, generations and generations of history that's been untold, all of those thousands of stories are coming out.

And while they may not have been known by, you know, dominant society or mainstream society, we've always known them.

Cara: I was always put together a little bit different.

Like a lot of people from the Native American community I come from a lot of trauma, alcoholism, and drug addiction and I had to overcome all of those things.

When all the chips were down and I had to really heal myself, photography and art were there for me.

We make art out of a need to connect, to communicate, to maybe not be lonely and introspective.

You're really trying to bury your soul in what's in your deepest places.

Those pieces that are the scariest for me are the ones that people connect with, feminine and vulnerable, and that way receives the most response from other women.

I would have never had those experiences to connect with strangers without photography.

I made a promise to myself in self-care and in healing that I would always pursue my art.

It was the one thing that made me whole.

It was all healthy compulsion that fed my spirit and my mind.

It was very apparent to me that that was the thing that I loved and that was the thing that I also during my time that I was drinking kept myself from, and never again.

The medium and the field and my life constantly tells me that I'm on the right path now.

Cara: When I started back into photography, at first I didn't make money at it, and then something changed.

The first image that I ever made that sold out was "Two Virgins."

I was, like, so touched that people were like, "I want this with me for the rest of my life."

I began to put together the puzzle pieces of what people were responding to, that humans love humans.

When I started to make a profit, I just invested everything back into it.

I bought the camera that I always wanted, got a studio.

I figured out how to write a business plan on my own.

My business plan was how am I going to center my entire career around making fine art photographs that are large, limited editions, and who am I going to market those to.

It was really important to me to not just cater to the rich.

I make 25 or less of a small version at an affordable price point that my own community can afford or I can trade people for.

I have had people say, "I don't think that you should make these smaller pieces."

You know, business advice from people that are not from my community, and I'll never do that.

Never forget where you come from.

Things have just kind of continued on this trajectory of continuing to learn how to be a woman small business owner.

An important part of being a female artist is learning to take care of yourself, invest in yourself.

Society dictates, you know, you're to be a certain way and you're to take care of your children, and we tend to be very selfless.

You have to carve out time to make your art.

Be strong and assertive about investing in your art.

It's not frivolous at all.

It's actually like a radical act of self-care.

As a mother if I'm caring for my soul and the things that make me happy emotionally, then I'm caring for my whole family better.

I think my stories year by year become more truthful and more brave.

Some of them will become more controversial.

People would be surprised to find out that many of the pieces have already created controversy, and now I'm really interested in that kind of pushing back.

♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ Diego: The art that makes us look at ourselves, that's the most powerful art.

If it makes you go home and question your reality or your preconceived notions and say, "Damn, maybe I am a racist, maybe I am misogynistic, maybe I need to ease up on my homophobia, maybe I am this person that I don't think I am or I don't want to be," then it's doing its job.

It's been an amazing adventure to watch Cara rise to the top of her fields and become a powerhouse, a heavyweight, the champ.

Bridget: She is the only person setting her own timelines, setting her own limits, but everyone knows that the sky's the limit.

Crickett: I feel like long term she's really going to be one of those faces that will pop up in our history.

People are going to do a search on Chemehuevi, they're going to see her face, they're going to know her story.

Bob Gresse: We have so many stories like Cara is telling.

Tragic stories, beautiful stories, happy stories, stories that are so insane they're unbelievable.

They're almost fiction, but they're true.

She's actually trying to tell the truth.

Here we are.

♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ Joy Harjo: Her work is magical, and, of course, the work is connected to her.

I mean, photography is about light and the ability to see light and following the light.

We exist in the mythological but we exist in the hardcore present, and she gets all of that in just one photograph.

Cannura Hanska Luger: Where Cara is going in photography, I think, is a secondary question.

What I'm most interested in is what photography becomes with Cara Romero.

♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ announcer: This program was made possible in part by a grant from Margaret A. Cargill Philanthropies.