Author Archives: S. M. Williams

Children run and play outside the entrance to the Carlson Center–one child slips on the slick ice and mud, but gets up with a smile, saved by her thick winter garb. Seated, vendors smile and wave, calling attention to their glimmering stone and bone carved into hunting tools and crafts. Their chatter with hovering patrons of their art is drowned by the sound of a thousand feet. The air is cool–the sharp sting of an Continue reading Native Crafts, Convention Politics, and a Chance to be Heard→