Living in Baraga County—on the edge of Lake Superior, nestled within the Keweenaw Bay Indian Community—means we’re surrounded by deep-rooted Native American culture. It’s in the powwow songs that carry through the air, in the language spoken at community events, and in the beadwork passed lovingly from hand to hand. Nearly half of the students at our local school are members of the KBIC. This culture isn’t something we simply witness—it’s a living, breathing part of everyday life here.
And yet, in a world that moves fast and pulls younger generations in many directions, these traditions are at risk of being lost. That’s why I reached out to the Connor family with an idea that I presented to the KBIC. I envisioned creating a series of dramatic, deeply respected portraits—images that showcase the beauty and power of Native regalia. I hoped to collaborate in a way that honored their story and, one day, to see portraits like these proudly displayed throughout the KBIC—in the clinic, in the community center, maybe even the schools. Just imagine a child walking through the clinic and seeing their mother in full regalia, beautifully photographed. That kind of visibility can inspire pride. That kind of representation matters and can be powerful and highly impactful.



The Connor family—local to our area—generously agreed to bring this vision to life. Dressed in their regalia, they stepped into the studio (my tiny basement/children's play room) and created magic. Every detail of their clothing told a story.
Demery is from the Spirit Lake Tribe of North Dakota; her husband is from Bois Forte and the Keweenaw Bay Indian Community. She began making regalia when she was just 10 years old, learning by watching her mother. Some regalia in their family has been passed down for generations, and each piece—every stitch, every feather, every bead—carries cultural and personal significance.



As Demery shared, some of her designs come to her in dreams—visions gifted by the Creator. Others are inspired by the patterns passed down from her mother and mother-in-law. Sometimes, it takes years to collect the right materials and envision how everything will come together. A single full set of regalia can take up to a year to complete.
Traditional techniques are deeply important to their process. Leather, otters, feathers, quills—these aren’t just materials; they’re sacred links to the past. Demery beads with her daughter, while her husband works with feathers and leather to craft moccasins. Their son contributes ribbon work. It’s a full family effort, and it’s that kind of hands-on participation that keeps these traditions alive and their family close.

Here’s a closer look at each child’s regalia and the meaning behind their garments:
- Devin – A fancy war dancer wearing a set beaded by Demery's father and step-mother, and was passed down from her nephew. His head roach was his grandfather's and has been passed down, on its 3rd generation now.
- Dalanna – A graceful jingle dress dancer. Her dress was lovingly made by her grandmother for Christmas. When she dances, it’s smooth, majestic. Her fan, too, is a family heirloom passed down from her grandfather, Lester Drift Jr.
- Dalin – A woodland dancer, Dalin wears an outfit handed down from his older brother Adrien, a continuation of strength and tradition.
- Demery “Bear” – The family’s beautiful butterfly, Bear is a fancy shawl dancer. Her outfit was passed down from her aunt Jasmine and features Dakota-style beadwork, full of motion and color.
- Desiree – Wearing exquisite Ojibwe-style beadwork made by her grandmother, Francis Drift. Her accessories speak volumes of heritage and heart.
- Dayhaun – His regalia, passed down from his big brother Devin, carries both legacy and pride into the next generation.




When I asked Demery what it feels like to see her children wearing the regalia she’s made for them, she said it’s a blessing. “It’s my accomplishment,” she told me. Her kids aren’t just wearing regalia—they’re championship dancers, bringing her work to life in arenas across the region. Through their movement, her dreams—and those of generations before—are realized.
For Demery, gatherings and language are her favorite parts of Native culture. They influence her work deeply, and she treasures sharing her creations: jingle dresses, moccasins, beaded earrings, necklaces. It’s her way of keeping traditions alive—and of planting the seeds for them to grow.
“I feel honored, blessed, and thankful,” she told me.
This session wasn’t just about photographs. It was about heritage. About visibility. About pride.
My hope is that these portraits inspire younger generations to not only see their culture, but to embrace it. The preservation of tradition rests in the hands of those coming next—and it starts with showing them just how beautiful, powerful, and sacred that tradition truly is.


