Leica publishes thought-provoking winning photos of 2021 Women Foto Project Award

Anna Boyiazis

© Matika Wilbur
Welana Fields Queton (Osage, Muscogee, Cherokee) & P’haw Ah Tahlee Queton

© Matika Wilbur
. Wilson Mungnak Hoogendorn and Oilver Tusagvik, Inupiaq brothers from Nome Alaska, were the first to summit North America’s highest peak, Mount Denali, in the 2019 climbing season. I asked them how they prepared: “Doing hard things,” Wilson chuckles. “If you’re just constantly doing hard things, it’s a blip upward if you want to go. Do something crazy,” Oliver explains. Wilson agrees, “Just doing hard things makes everything easier.” They recall walking into the ranger station to register to climb and being met with sideways glances, “Are you sure?”, the ranger asked. “Probably because we didn’t look fancy”… Wilson mentions that most of the people that climb have really expensive equipment and many even have sponsorship. Despite doubt, they proceeded to break trail for the 2019 season at the third most prominent and isolated peak on Earth, after Mount Everest and Aconcagua. Denali, a kuyokon word that means “high”, “tall”, or “great one” is the highest mountain in North American at 20,310 feet above sea level.

“Running has been my absolute passion and my stability. When I transferred schools, I felt as if no one wanted me to succeed. My teacher told me it was in my genetics to be an alcoholic, my basketball coach would drug test only me on the team, and my track coach told me I would just be another stupid Indian runner with no chance in the real running world. I let those words motivate and push me until I earned the fastest times in the school, but she still wouldn’t let me race. My dad gave me these words “You can either be a quitter or come back a success story. Your choice.” That summer I trained harder than ever and came back strong. I made it to State. I made first team and placed in the Nike meet in Boise and Footlocker in California. I was Mead High School’s #1 runner. My story isn’t over. I will keep working hard to reach my goals. I will go to college so I can continue my success story that will inspire my fellow Native youth. I want to let them know that although the odds might not be in our favor, we come from a strong people. We are strong and will rise!” –
Hannah Tomeo (Colville, Yakima, Nez Perce, Sioux and Samoan Nations), Northwest Indian Youth Princess

© Matika Wilbur
“The canoe is more than just a vessel to carry our bodies; it carries the hope and resiliency of our people. We are living in a time of cultural resurrection, The Coast Salish sea beckons our bodies to commune with the ocean in our traditional way— to provide the lifestyle needed to feed our people. The elders say that our spirit gets hungry. Our spirit isn’t just hungry for food. It needs to be nourished by the sound of water pulling and drum beats pounding; it yearns for traditional Salish seafood that burns over open fires and emerges
from beneath the smoldering ground; our spirit grows hungry for the feelings that can only be sensed in those spaces. Traveling these ancestral waterways reinstates our wholeness as a people. These spiritual voyages embody the resilience of indigenous sovereignty. This is a revolution.”

© Matika Wilbur
Ethan Petticrew, Unangax. “We have a huge suicide epidemic up here with young people; I mean it happens all the time. It’s an epidemic in our villages; we have one, and then five more will follow suit…. I’m sick of it; it’s a product of a colonization. I remember being suicidal over it in my teenage years. At one point I tried pills because I thought, ‘Who am I? I don’t fit in anybody’s world. There’s too much white in me, and in the white world I have too much Native in me.’ We get lost sometimes, but the ones that love us the most are our own. I
can’t stand to see any more of our young people die this way; so I’ve committed myself to working with teenagers and young people in the dance group, that’s my contribution to keeping our kids safe. I know it won’t provide every single one of them with the tools they need but it’s my small contribution; to ground them in who they are. Hopefully that will help them with resilience and moving forward.”

© Matika Wilbur
Richard Ray Whitman and Binishi Albert (father and daughter), Yuchi. Both Richard and Benshi attended the Institute of American Indian Arts (IAIA), Santa Fe. Richard started as a painter and expanded to become an acclaimed multidisciplinary visual artist, poet, and actor. Benishi attended as a playwright and actor focusing on the modern complexities of Indian Country. Richard introduced himself and his rebellious nature saying, “I’m an artist, I’m also a horse thief. My first juvenile crime, in sixth grade, was borrowing a hose.”

© Matika Wilbur
Travis Goldtooth, Buffalo Barbie, Diné. Travis Goldtooth belongs to the Diné people from Navajo Nation and their Two-Spirit drag name is Buffalo Barbie. We met in San Francisco at the largest Two Spirit Pow Wow in the nation. This photo was taken before the powwow in the hostel as we were bustling about, doing our makeup, excited to be gathering with friends and relatives. That morning we walked along San Francisco’s bay while drinking coffee and chatting. I was moved by Travis’ loving nature and forgiving spirit: “I was pretty much
raised by my grandmother and she instilled all this cultural knowledge. In the Navajo culture, it’s a matriarchal society. And with the matriarch, which is my grandmother, once she passes, the next holder is a Two Spirit individual; it’s usually a male/female, an individual like me. When I moved back home five years ago, I fell into that role, and I guess I never looked back. My brothers and sisters look up to me. I have to do all the family event gathering and when is somebody’s in the hospital or something like that, I’m the first to be informed. It falls on me to give the news because they say, if it comes from me, it has more of a subtle warmth feeling; it’s not as a tragic news as if my brother gave it. They don’t freak out because they think I’m handling it. My cousins and sisters said, I couldn’t have done it without you. I don’t know what you did but everything smoothed out itself. I didn’t think of it, without knowing I’ve fell into that responsibility. I’m just talking to them and I give them advice as much as like, we were talking here, kind of like the cultural advices that we have.

© Karen Zusman
Kris, age 8, lives in Sheepshead Bay with his two brothers, mother and stepfather.

© Karen Zusman
Elena, age 9, lives in Harlem with her mother and grandmother.

© Karen Zusman
Bubba and his nephew, William. Ages 9 and 3. Bubba lives in Brownsville with his mother, sister and 3 year old brother, Legacy.

© Karen Zusman
David, age 10, recent immigrant from Russia, lives in Brighton Beach with his mother.

© Karen Zusman
McKenzie, age 9, lives with her mother in Harlem

© Karen Zusman
Nginga, age 12, lives with her brothers Legacy and Bubba and mother in Brownsville

© Karen Zusman
Kamalo, age 20, recently immigrated from Uzbekistan, lives in Midwood.

© Karen Zusman
Kalin, age 9, brother of Kris, lives in Sheepshead Bay.

© Karen Zusman
Paige, age 6, lives with her mother, Ebony and siblings in Sheepshead Bay.

© Anna Boyiazis
Swim instructor Siti, 24, helps a girl float on Nov. 17, 2016 in the Indian Ocean off of Nungwi, Zanzibar.

© Anna Boyiazis
Primary School students learn to float, swim, and perform rescues on Oct. 25, 2016 in the Indian Ocean off of Muyuni, Zanzibar

© Anna Boyiazis
Swim instructor Chema snaps her fingers as she disappears underwater on Dec. 28, 2016 in Nungwi, Zanzibar

© Anna Boyiazis
A young woman learns to float on Nov. 24, 2016 in the Indian Ocean off of Nungwi, Zanzibar.