Woven Peoples and Place: Hold onto the rope when the wind blows hard

Published 1:30 am Wednesday, May 27, 2026

Themed after a Shm’algyack phrase borrowed humbly from the Dictionary of Shm’algyack by Donna May Roberts, “Shguu mdm dackya’wa hagwilhoo dsihla ‘dsuu baashg.” “You have to hold on to the rope when the wind blows hard.”

Woven: Peoples & Place is the annual magazine of the Sustainable Southeast Partnership (SSP). Built by storytellers across the SSP, the third edition of Woven brings together 12 writers, more than 30 partner organizations, and voices from 11 communities, and is launched annually at the SSP Spring Retreat, where more than 60 regional organizations gather.

This year, the retreat was grounded in the theme provided by SSP Regional Healing Catalyst Hana’ackm Ggoadm ‘Tsoal / Naomi Leask: g̱a̱tgyeda g̱agoodism dm la aam wil yaa g̱atg̱oydiksism — “Make your heart strong so that your thoughts will be right.” In collaboration with Haa Tóoch Lichéesh, each day was shaped by the voices of distinct people and moments of time in our partnership.

The SSP is a dynamic collective uniting Tribal governments, Alaska Native Corporations, community nonprofits, and individuals in service of cultural, ecological, and economic abundance across Southeast Alaska. Read Woven now.

About the Third Issue:

It’s been windy.

Locally, a stormy winter with gusts of 65 knots knocked trees down, rattled our windows, and kept us in tight orbit to our fireplaces. Globally, we find ourselves bombarded by big blows, seemingly hour to hour. Communities choose: do we let storms fracture us, or, do they knit us together. In Southeast Alaska, we almost always choose the latter.

When a wind is hitting you in the face, it’s hard to focus on anything else. Between gusts, it’s natural to take cover and focus on urgent needs. It’s hard to think generationally. But the work of the Sustainable Southeast Partnership is generational. Stories help us see how the incremental steps we take day-to-day add up over time. In this issue, you’ll read about Moby, a little mobile greenhouse constructed 10 years ago by students using sustainable local wood, wheeled onto the Alaska ferry, and shipped off on a regional journey with a lofty goal: to help local leaders realize big dreams in food sovereignty. A decade later, you’ll meet three community champions, whose local food movements have since blossomed.

In this issue, summer storytelling interns also offer recipes and remind us how self care is community care. You’ll read how when faced with budget cuts and shifted federal priorities, Partners got creative in their support for one another. With increased suicide and drug abuse tearing through communities, Partners orchestrated a healing camp. Tired of a forest management regime defined by conflict, Partners are trailblazing a young growth timber industry that puts community and long-term forest health first. Through culture camps, innovative curricula in schools, and even a fly-fishing academy, Partners are ensuring that the next generation inherits the skills, relationships, humor, and resilience to navigate windy weather, and build brighter, stronger communities.

Stories are part of the rope we weave and grip together. They are an anchor that keeps us connected and grounded to place. When the winds are blowing, it can be hard to remember that all storms pass, the sea settles, the windsock will rest, the clouds always clear. Now, spring is here, it’s time to pull anchor, and paddle forward. Wie Wa! Wiedsadup mun she’eka gga-deelpg (Listen up, let’s pull the anchor!)

Happy Reading,

Bethany Sonsini Goodrich, Regional SSP Storytelling Catalyst

Looking Ahead in the Sustainable Southeast Partnership:

The winds may be blowing. But this house has a solid foundation.

For the past several years, I’ve been slowly building a house in Haines, Alaska. Not hiring it out. Not rushing it. Learning as I go.

Truthfully, a project like this could not happen without community. A neighbor lending a tool I didn’t know I needed. A friend stopping by after work to help lift a beam into place. Someone I don’t always agree with offering a different approach that ultimately makes the structure stronger. Here, houses rise because people show up.

The more time I spend working on that home, the more I realize it is not so different from building a partnership like ours. The Sustainable Southeast Partnership has never been the product of one organization, one leader, or one funding stream. It is a collective effort with hands offering resources, ingenuity, time, and heart to realize something complex and deeply rooted in place. Like a house, this network stands because of the relationships that hold it together.

We stand rooted in our foundation: relationships first. Trust built through patience. Reciprocity practiced over time. A commitment to showing up as our honest, complex selves.

We often use the Lingít word wooch.éen: working together in harmony and balance. The SSP recognizes that none of us builds alone, and that our strength comes from moving in rhythm with one another and with the lands and waters that sustain us.

Shguu mdm dockdocka hagwilhoo dsihla ‘dsuu baashg is Sm’algya̱x for “You have to hold on to the rope when the wind blows hard”. Right now it feels like these winds are blowing 60. Funding landscapes are shifting. Programs across our region have felt uncertainty. And yet, what I have noticed is not fragmentation, but people leaning closer and holding one another tightly. Partners finding new ways to support workforce pathways, food systems, youth leadership, language revitalization, regenerative tourism, and community-driven stewardship.

Our network is growing. New partners are coming into the fold who may not have seen themselves reflected in this work before. Others have shifted roles yet remain integral threads in this ecosystem. We have welcomed a new community catalyst in Kasaan to bring youth and Elders together through harvesting traditional foods. We have welcomed a regional regenerative tourism catalyst to explore a visitor industry shaped by community priorities. And now, we welcome a new SSP director: Cody Angerman from Wrangell, who has a diverse background in operations, leadership, and community engagement through his previous role as a general manager of Wrangell Pacific Seafoods and as head coach of the Wrangell High School basketball program since 2017.

The strength of this Partnership has always been about inclusivity and alignment. If you share our values, you are a part of this work. You belong here. What you carry — your experience, your culture, your perspective — is essential.

As we expand, we are also returning to the basics that made this Partnership strong from the beginning: trust, humility, patience, and a willingness to listen. We continue to learn from communities across Alaska and First Nations who are advancing community-driven models and place-based systems change. The work unfolding in Hoonah, Prince of Wales, and Kake now informs what is possible elsewhere. We learn. We share. We adapt.

When I look at the house I am building, I see every hand that helped shape it. Every conversation that altered its design. Every moment of doubt weathered, because someone else believed it was worth continuing. This partnership is no different. The winds may be blowing. But this house has a solid foundation.

Thank you for continuing to build, offer, reciprocate, share, and shape.

Shannon Stevens, SSP Deputy Director