My First Portrait of a Navajo Woman in an Empowerment Series - at the Bisti Badlands

In the heart of the Bisti Badlands of New Mexico, where wind and time have carved stone into otherworldly shapes, Tiana stands as both presence and symbol. Her outstretched hand and rooted stance mirror the resilience of Navajo women—balancing strength, grace, and cultural legacy.

The golden light of evening softens the stark desert, illuminating her against the hoodoos that rise like guardians behind her. Here, land and identity are inseparable: the earth shapes the people, and the people honor the earth.

This portrait is not a staged myth but a lived truth—an image of empowerment, authenticity, and continuity carried through generations.

We began our one-mile trek into the unmarked trails of the Bisti Badlands of New Mexico under a soft, light rain, crossing a barbed-wire fence that marked the start of our journey. My husband, Jeff, graciously carried some of my equipment and captured behind-the-scenes footage while Tiana’s family—her five-month-old baby girl, two-year-old son, husband, mother, and sister—accompanied us.

It felt like more than just a photo session; it felt like we were stepping into a shared story.

The skies were dramatic, heavy with clouds but hinting at a clearing—a promise of clear skies. We crossed dried river ravines, noticing cow tracks and patties as we all scrambled down and up over the edges with our heavy loads. Every so often, we stopped to rest, to photograph, to take in the surreal hoodoos rising around us like ancient sentinels.

The sun came out, and the dramatic sky stayed. Those little stones you see on the ground are really petrified wood. Tiana shared with me that sheep are important to her culture, and she proudly wears her sheep skirt with her Squash Blossom Necklace.

Tiana had brought two outfits and different pieces of Navajo jewelry—each telling its own story. In my bag, I carried my Canon RF lenses 28-70 mm, 70-200 mm, and my Lensbaby Velvet 85, plus my beloved Profoto A10 for its portability. When the skies were still overcast, that light gave me the control I needed to illuminate Tiana properly without losing the mood of the landscape.

All along the way, I told her we could turn back at any time. Desert terrain with young children isn’t easy. But her family’s enthusiasm carried us forward, and we eventually reached the Batwing Hoodoos—towering, wing-like formations carved by time.

At first, the light was split and uneven. Then Tiana suggested climbing higher to the Batwings. As she rose above the ground, the scene shifted. I asked her to “be like the Batwings”—to take on their power and shape. She moved with grace and courage, and something clicked: her stance, the dramatic skies, the stone wings around her. Those frames became my favorites—images of not just a woman, but of empowerment rooted in land and legacy.

After being high up with the Batwings, Tiana safely came back down to walk this small river passage. We both love movement portraits.

Why I’m Doing This Project

This portrait is part of my ongoing Navajo Women Empowerment Project. As an award-winning brand photographer, my personal work has always centered on women’s stories and self-representation. When I learned that the Navajo Nation is matrilineal—meaning land and lineage are passed through women—I felt a deep resonance with my own mission to uplift women’s voices.

So many of us admire Indigenous culture from a distance but rarely engage. On past travels—such as my summer in the Black Hills of South Dakota—I noticed how visitors flocked to Mt. Rushmore but often skipped the privately funded Crazy Horse Memorial, even though it was awe-inspiring. That avoidance of Indigenous narratives stuck with me. This project is my way of leaning in—listening, learning, and honoring rather than turning away.

I learned last spring, during my time in Gallup, NM, that the Pendleton Blankets are an integral part of Navajo culture. The women get the fringed blankets, and the men’s blankets are not fringed. The blankets are part of their marriage and burial ceremonies.

In my artist statement for this series, I wrote:

“Where others have staged myth, I aim to amplify lived truth—portraits of Navajo women in landscapes that hold their stories, capturing dignity, strength, and the quiet power of continuity.”

Personal projects like this are always challenging. They require planning, travel, self-funding (with the hope of acquiring grant funding), and a willingness to step into new cultural contexts with respect. But the rewards—the chance to create something meaningful, to collaborate with women like Tiana, and to potentially bring these images into museums and galleries for the masses to lean in and learn—are exhilarating.

This is just the beginning of a four-part series. Next stop: Monument Valley.