Changing the narrative, one photo at a time

Indigenous photographer Eunice Straight Head showcases unique perspectives through their work

Sitting in a photography course at Black Hills State University, Eunice Straight Head was the only Indigenous person in the room.

Being the only Indigenous student was intimidating, but Black Hills State University photography professor Steve Babbitt sat the Cheyenne River Lakota woman and encouraged them to keep going.

“I was the only Indigenous person in the program for a long time,” Straight Head said. “He told me he saw a lot of potential in me and my viewpoint.”

Straight Head, who is non-binary and uses she and they pronouns, said Babbitt’s support was what kept them going. Having a mentor who encouraged them to sharpen their skills and showcase their culture was what they needed to continue. 

According to census records, less than one percent of professional photographers in the United States are Native American. Straight Head hopes that through their work they can empower Native youth to step into the field.

“A lot is happening in terms of representation,” Straight Head said. “We have Lily Gladstone and so many others coming up and creating new pathways for representation in the media. They’ve paved the way for people like me and other artists to go in that direction. I want to pave the way for other Indigenous photographers, especially queer-identifying Indigenous photographers.”

Straight Head’s work has been featured in The New Yorker and the Minneapolis Institute of Art, and she has worked alongside Shane Balkowitsch, a Bismarck-based wet plate photographer.

“Wherever I’m able, I want to give everyone a spot to shine,” Straight Head said.

For Straight Head, photography is more than just a hobby, it’s a way of showing the beauty of Indigenous culture and the resilience of Indigenous people. 

“It’s a window into not only my life but our culture and our people,” Straight Head said. “(Photography) provides an inside look rather than just what you see online or on Instagram. We’re trying to take back representation in this world, step by step.”

Often, the image of Indigenous people portrayed through photography is of black and white photos of nameless Indigenous people, some even wearing improper regalia. While an icon in the photography scene, Edward S. Curtis was infamous for using his photos of Indigenous people to portray a “vanishing race.” Curtis often staged subjects, mixed tribal artifacts and traditions to portray a romanticized version of his subjects. 

As an Indigenous photographer, Straight Head wants to combat that narrative and bring life back to Indigenous photography.

“I want to be able to give names. So many of those (historic) photos have no name or no tribal affiliation,” Straight Head said. “They (photographers) didn’t know where the subjects came from or how to say their names. I don’t want there to be any more no-named Indians.”

When taking photos, Straight Head works with the subject to tell a story. When taking portraits, Straight Head will help paint the subject’s nails, help them style their hair and set up the scene to make the subject more comfortable. 

“I have to be my own creative director,” Straight Head said. “I’m a very hands-on person because this is really a window into a narrative. We’re trying to take back our narrative step by step, so I have to slow down and take my time with everything.”

One of Straight Head’s largest projects was capturing the 50th Wounded Knee Liberation Day anniversary in 2023 on the Pine Ridge Reservation. 

It was a freezing cold day in February, the ground was caked in thick mud and Straight Head’s car broke down while on assignment. Despite all the challenges, they pushed forward wanting to capture every moment and tell the full story.

While taking photos, Straight Head ran into Cheyenne Lakota matriarch Madonna Thunder Hawk, an American Indian Movement activist who participated in the occupation of Alcatraz island and the occupation of Wounded Knee. Oddly enough, Thunder Hawk knew Straight Head’s namesake, her great-grandmother Eunice Larabee. Despite being on opposite sides in the 1970s, the two had been great friends all their lives.

Straight Head never met her great-grandmother, but through talking to Thunder Hawk they were able to feel closer to her namesake. They were also able to take Thunder Hawk’s portrait out in Wounded Knee.

“In that time and moment I felt like I was supposed to be there,” Straight Head said. “Everything that could have gone wrong did, but I think I was supposed to be there and meet these people and help tell the story. I got to be a part of this and I’m so thankful for the images and the opportunity.”

A majority of the photos taken that day were featured in The New Yorker alongside a story about the day’s events. The event was jam-packed with dozens of other journalists and photographers from national news outlets aiming to capture the event. 

“I had a conversation with one of the people there and he said, ‘All of these other people are here just to document what they want you to see, but you’re here with your one camera to capture something with your heart,’” Straight Head said. “I kept that in mind while trying to convey that this was more than just a news story. Even though it was just me and three feet of mud that day, I did what I could.”

That summer, one of Straight Head’s photos taken during the 50th anniversary celebration won the best in photography during the 2023 Native Pop celebration in Rapid City. 

Since then, they have focused on commercial photography for their clothing brand AltarxNatives with Caitlin Hein, Sicangu Lakota, and Ryia LeBeau, Mnicouju Lakota, as well as portrait and documentary photography. 

“I love documentary photography. I try and challenge myself with that when I can,” Straight Head said. “But I also love portraits, they allow me to share stories with others, get to meet new people and learn about their lives. People are my number one favorite thing to take photos of.”

In 2023, Straight Head re-entered the powwow circle dancing women’s traditional. Participating more in the powwow circuit has allowed them to travel to various regional powwows such as He Sapa Wacipi Na Oskate (Black Hills Powwow) and the Denver March Powwow.

Days spent photographing powwows are hectic, they said. As a dancer, photographer and spectator powwow days become 13-hour days. 

“I’m so happy I’m in a position where I can experience all roles,” Straight Head said. “The community is really what makes a powwow, what makes these dancers shine,” they said. “That’s what I’m focused on whenever I take photos of powwows.”

At the Denver March Powwow, Straight Head was one of a few Indigenous photographers. A majority were male and non-Native, they said. In order to make room and uplift more Indigenous photographers, Straight Head said, more work needs to be done to create uplifting spaces for Indigenous artists, especially in academia.

“I think things would have been different if I went to AIAI (American Indian Arts Institute) or Haskell,” Straight Head said. “Being the only Indigenous person was a little hard, I felt that people didn’t want to give me valid critiques because they were worried about being insensitive since my work revolved around my culture. I think engaging more with Indigenous photographers would be really good. We need more positive spaces.”

To any Indigenous person wanting to jump into photography, Straight Head said their best advice would be to be patient with yourself.

“I can’t wait to see what happens in the next five years to me and other artists around me,” they said.

Dateline:

RAPID CITY, S.D.