Leadership in the World of Stem and Beyond
First named “Navajo” by a Spanish priest in 1630, the tribe probably acquired the Americanized variant spelling “Navaho” because people unfamiliar with Spanish mispronounced “Navajo” as “Na-va-joe.” Today, many members prefer the traditional tribal name, Diné.
In Oak Springs, Ariz., in the Carrizo Mountains, there’s a spectacular view in every direction. Look south and there sits Red Valley with the Chuska Mountains as a backdrop. You’re surrounded by red sandstone, evergreen trees, and blue sky that together present the full color spectrum. Most mornings you wake up to the sounds of all kinds of birds, as their singing echoes between rocks and trees.
Onri Jay Benally, Navajo, calls Oak Springs home. When he was 16, his Grandmother Nancy, who had raised him since birth, was killed by a drunk driver. It had always been just the two of them together in their mountain home. Benally’s grandmother imbued him with a love of learning and always told him that homework is the priority. So there was no way Benally was giving up on school after her death. Living on his own, he graduated from Red Valley High School with valedictorian and leadership awards, as well as college plans.
A self-described honor-roll-kind-of-guy, Benally had many school options. The biggest obstacles in his path to college were his impressions that he was too young and that all the “cool places” were too far away. He chose Utah State and attended two campuses at different times (one an eight-hour drive from his Arizona home), recognizing that after being on his own for two years he could figure out the logistics.
Always drawn to science, Benally’s interest was heightened by what his grandmother taught him about mathematics, blueprinting, farming, silversmithing, and carpentry. His love of music dovetailed into science. By age nine, he had learned the Yamaha keyboard, playing by ear with no sheet music, and then taught himself to play a Hammond organ and the harmonica. Benally still loves to play music to lift up others and himself. Then there is the science of it, how waveforms are produced, how the motor makes organs work. “It’s important to know how your instruments work, down to the internal components,” Benally says.
That desire to know how things work even at the smallest level focused him toward physics. In 2016, Benally earned his associate of science degree from Utah State, where he worked in the university’s science lab and was named a Presidential Scholar. Additionally, he served as vice president of the Blanding campus AISES College Chapter. “That experience helped me to reach out more to the public,” he says. “And I have more confidence when it comes to teaching because of it.”
The desire to know how things work even at the smallest level focused Benally toward physics.
A fellowship from the Materials Research Science and Engineering Centers and the National Science Foundation led Benally to the University of Minnesota Twin Cities in 2017. He is completing coursework for a multidisciplinary studies degree and working as a scientific researcher in the field of quantum spintronics. “Currently I’m part of a team building and testing super tiny devices, called perpendicular magnetic tunneling junctions (p-MTJs), at the Minnesota Nano Center,” Benally explains. “Building these near-atomic-scale devices and seeing them function as intended is always exciting, as they are used for non-volatile memory, nuclear spin-logic, quantum computing, neuromorphic computing, and much more.”
Equally satisfying to Benally is exposure to world-class research and collaborating with experts in the field from around the world. “The techniques they teach me can make a big difference in my experiment results,” he says.
Researchers and postdoctoral associates serve as mentors for Benally. Learning from them, he says, is like obtaining tricks of the trade in science and engineering. Most of the opportunities he has taken resulted from suggestions and recommendations made by his senior colleagues and professors.
Benally thinks his ability to converse with a diversity of people helps him succeed in school and his career. He has a special advantage in communicating. In addition to Navajo and English, he speaks Russian and some Serbian. He plans to learn Chinese next because it is tonal, like Navajo, and many of his fellow researchers speak Chinese. “Knowing other languages helps me connect with new people — it makes discussions lively,” Benally says.
Looking ahead, Benally will continue doing research and learning all he can in quantum spintronics in order to apply it to other useful technologies he plans to develop in the future. And he remains guided by his grandmother’s wisdom and passes it on to others: always do your homework first.
— Ann S. Boor
The Ojibwe, Odawa, and Potawatomi are Anishinaabeg peoples, related linguistically and culturally, with expansive traditional lands that include the Great Lakes and stretch on both sides of the border between the U.S. and Canada.
Kaella-Marie Earle can’t remember a time she wasn’t interested in engineering. Even as a child she would visit factories with her father, an electrical engineer, and he would show her various industrial processes. She was fascinated and knew she would follow her father into engineering. As a current engineering major with a focus on industrial processes, Earle is well on her way to that goal.
Born in Sudbury, Ontario, as a child Earle experienced several moves to follow her father’s career. Indigenous residents were few in number in the family’s new hometowns and Earle often found it hard to fit in. In one rural town, Earle and her brother even faced severe racism; in another, she recalls anti-Indigenous sentiments at her elementary school.
As a refuge, Earle developed her own interests, including exploring the world of engineering with her father. “He came back from every business trip with hundreds of pictures of nuts, bolts, and wires, and he’d sit us down for multihour presentations in front of various types of electrical equipment,” she says. “I knew I needed to model my career after this kind of sheer fascination with something.”
Entering high school, Earle had a clear objective: to do well enough to get into a university engineering program. She found help in an unexpected place: a world religion course made her realize it’s OK to follow her own spiritual path. “It was the beginning of my search for my Anishinaabe cultural identity,” says Earle, “which has played an important role in managing my mental and physical health.”
Both were tested when she entered Laurentian University in Sudbury in 2010 and struggled to find her footing. “I ended up failing a bunch of courses due to depression, PTSD from an abusive relationship, and thoughts of suicide,” says Earle. She found little support on campus, and eventually dropped out.
As she moves closer to her goal of advancing Indigenous ethics in engineering operations, Earle wants others to take care of themselves.
She leaned on her family, and decided to go back to school. At Cambrian College in Sudbury, Earle found the support she’d been seeking. “The advisor saw my old transcript and all my failing grades,” says Earle. But instead of berating her as previous advisors had done, he told Earle how much he believed in her ability to succeed. “I was so shocked that someone had this confidence in me, I actually cried,” she recalls. “I was shown kindness and humanity by an academic advisor, and it changed my life.”
With her boosted confidence, Earle completed her college coursework. She set her sights on engineering at Laurentian University — a different path was never an option. “I know I belong in engineering,” says Earle. But her return to Laurentian was a difficult journey.
Despite her good grades from Cambrian, the university rejected Earle’s application for readmission and her subsequent appeal. But when Laurentian did offer her a place in the liberal arts program, Earle was angry. “It’s racist to push Indigenous students into arts when they want to be in science and engineering,” she says. After persistently arguing her case, Earle was able to enter the engineering program.
Even now that she is doing well, Earle finds her university experience challenging in a variety of ways. “The basic recognition that Indigenous students have unique issues that require unique resources is a critical piece,” she notes. In addition, Earle has an autoimmune disease that creates a physical disability. “Trying to provide enough proof for the university to accommodate my disability has been difficult,” she says.
Still, Earle has persevered. She is currently involved in a variety of programs both on and off campus that support Indigenous people: she is the president and founder of the Laurentian University Project Engineering Society and the founder and director of Maamiwi Gibeshiwin — an annual Anishinaabe camp designed to provide a safe place for young Anishinaabeg to reclaim their cultural identity through teachings and experiential learning on the land.
Earle credits her family and access to appropriate health resources for her success. “I have a supportive family and access to cultural knowledge and methods of health and well-being,” she says. Her current internship at Enbridge Gas Distribution has taught her the importance of caring collaboration. “It’s easy to feel good about the work you do as long as it’s done in the spirit of taking care of each other,” she adds.
As she moves closer to her goal of advancing Indigenous ethics in engineering operations, Earle wants others to take care of themselves. “Especially as an Indigenous person, it’s an ongoing battle to recognize that you are worthy of love and success, and to exist the way you want in a place you want,” she says. But she believes everyone can succeed. “You really are worthy,” Earle continues. “It’s OK to be Indigenous and be in college; to be Indigenous and working in oil, gas, and mining industries; to be Indigenous and an engineer or a scientist. Recognize the strength it took to get where you are, and congratulate yourself often.” Every step is a victory; Earle has taken several steps, and is savoring each victory along the way.
— Alexa Panza
Known for its strong cultural identity, the Crow Tribe, or Apsáalooke (people of the large-beaked bird), attracts some 10,000 people to the Crow Fair held every August on tribal lands near the Little Bighorn River of Montana.
The first Native American to complete a doctoral engineering degree at Cornell University, Dr. Grace Bulltail is as committed to building bridges between students and potential mentors as she is to promoting education. Then again, strengthening relationships and advancing education are part of her heritage. Dr. Bulltail, Crow, Mandan, Hidatsa, and Arikara Nations, was raised on the Crow Reservation in Montana by her paternal grandparents. In this close-knit community, traditional ways and the Crow language are commonplace.
“My Crow heritage is central to my identity and my values, including a strong sense of the importance of education,” says Dr. Bulltail, who returns to the reservation every summer and for the Crow Fair. “It’s a weeklong reunion of family members and friends and helps me maintain my connection to my people.” Her current postdoctoral field research also brings her back to portions of reservation lands.
Dr. Bulltail’s affinity and talent for STEM fields were evident early. As a seventh-grader, she started attending AISES summer camps and learned the importance of mentors. She still keeps in touch with one of her early mentors, Dr. Freda Porter. Dr. Bulltail’s family has also been crucial to her success. One of nine children, she recalls her grandmother visiting her while she was at a boarding school in New Hampshire. “I couldn’t have done it without my family’s support,” Dr. Bulltail says.
Her subsequent academic path led to her current role as a California Alliance postdoctoral scholar in the department of Earth System Science at Stanford University. Along the way she chalked up an impressive list of accomplishments: a National GEM Consortium Fellowship; Sloan Indigenous Graduate Partnership Fellowship; National Science Foundation Integrative Graduate Education and Research Traineeship Fellowship; and Cornell Colman Fellowship. What’s more, Dr. Bulltail says her experience as an engineering instructor at United Tribes Technical College in Bismarck, N.D., helped her realize how important it is to build academic programs and achieve the foundational credentials to be an effective faculty member.
“I am the first in my family to receive a doctorate. You have to have the resolve and maturity to complete the research work you started.”
Dr. Bulltail earned her undergraduate degree in civil and environmental engineering from Stanford University. She went on to receive two master’s degrees, in project engineering management and earth resources engineering, from Montana Tech and Columbia University, respectively. Although it was outside her academic area, the Federal Indian Law course Dr. Bulltail took in grad school played an important role in sharpening her focus. “I was curious about how policy affects tribes’ management of water resources,” she says. “This course gave me an advantage for pursuits involving tribal self-determination and sovereignty.”
Dr. Bulltail earned that Native American “first” — a PhD in biological and environmental engineering from the College of Agriculture and Life Sciences at Cornell University — with dissertation research on the impact of natural resource development on water quality in tribal communities. “Cornell Engineering has great scholarship resources and programs in addition to dedicated program directors,” she points out.
The road to these academic achievements was not always smooth. Dr. Bulltail explains that doctoral programs are especially challenging because they require students to forge new pathways in their fields, which can make students second-guess themselves. “Working in uncharted territory can be daunting, not only academically but also personally,” she says. “I am the first in my family to receive a doctorate. You have to have the resolve and maturity to complete the research work you started.”
Impostor syndrome — a pervasive self-doubt that can strike smart, successful individuals — is another potential pitfall. “I’ve had impostor syndrome along all phases of my schooling,” says Dr. Bulltail. “It’s especially true of those in marginalized groups, such as Natives, to feel they aren’t supposed to be where they are, regardless of their accomplishments. I don’t think that feeling ever really goes away.” One solution, she believes, is to ensure that students have a strong support network of mentors.
Dr. Bulltail is finding ways to further support students as a member of the AISES Board of Directors (she also serves on the Winds of Change Editorial Advisory Council, which helps plan future issues). In addition, events like the AISES Leadership Summit provide opportunities to increase support for students. “The summit is also a great way to build AISES within academic communities,” Dr. Bulltail notes. “These events can boost the academic pipeline up to the level of postdoctorate STEM students while enhancing the organization.”
She also had a hand in helping plan and lead this year’s AISES Region 2 Conference at Stanford, where students had the chance to network with professional members and share research. “Building connections is beneficial to all involved on many levels,” she says.
— Kimberly Durment Locke