My name is Isabella Snowbird. I am Ojibwe and Comanche, and I was born and raised in Colorado Springs. Growing up in the K-Land neighborhood, I learned early that being Native in an urban community meant finding ways to stay connected to culture, even when we were far from our homelands.
Much of my childhood was shaped by the School District 11 Title VI Indian Education Program and the Native American Youth Leadership Alliance (NAYLA). Those programs taught me that our cultures are living, that our voices matter, and that Native youth can be leaders. They gave me a community where I felt seen and reminded me that my identity was something to be proud of.
At home, my family believed that culture is something you practice every day. We gardened, harvested traditional plants, fished, kayaked, and learned to care for the land that cared for us. Food sovereignty wasn’t just an idea but was how we lived. We raised livestock in the middle of the city because we believed Native families should have access to healthy, traditional foods wherever they live.
When I was eleven years old, I spoke before the Colorado Springs City Council in support of the “No Goats, No Glory” campaign, helping pass an ordinance that allowed families to keep dairy goats within city limits. Our story was shared nationally when I was featured in Indian Country Today and Native Peoples Magazine, sharing how urban Native families can reconnect with traditional food systems. One video even showed me butchering our backyard chickens, a skill that many generations before me considered a normal part of providing for family.
As a child, my family regularly traveled to Pueblo for the Indigenous Peoples Day “Take It Down” rallies. Those experiences taught me that advocacy isn’t just about changing laws but is also about changing the way our communities are represented and respected. They planted the seeds for the work I would later do as an adult.
Over the years, I have testified at the Colorado State Capitol on legislation affecting Native communities. I have advocated to remove Native American mascots from schools, protect the right of Native students to wear traditional regalia at graduation, strengthen protections for Missing and Murdered Indigenous Relatives, and expand access to traditional healing for Native victims of crime. Each testimony has been rooted in the belief that Native people deserve to be treated with dignity and that our traditions belong in our future, not only in our past.
Not all of my childhood memories are easy. My mother survived domestic violence, and as a child I witnessed the effects that violence has on an entire family. Those experiences taught me both the pain that trauma can cause and the strength it takes to heal. They also inspired my career.
Today, I work as a domestic violence advocate. I am certified as a Sexual Assault Tribal Advocate through the National Tribal Training Institute and facilitate Wellbriety curriculum through White Bison, helping Native people find healing through culturally grounded approaches. I also serve on the Native Advisory Council for El Pomar Foundation’s Elevating Leadership Development Program and with the Pikes Peak Indigenous Women’s Alliance.
An issue that has remained close to my heart throughout my life is Missing and Murdered Indigenous Relatives. My family has organized the Colorado Springs MMIR Awareness Rally for the past eight years because every Native person deserves to be found, remembered, and protected. This work became deeply personal when my own brother went missing and a Missing Indigenous Person Alert was issued by the Colorado Springs Police Department. That is the very alert system I had testified to help create. In that moment, advocacy became more than policy. It became my family’s reality.
Today, I am also a mother. Every step I’ve taken, from speaking before City Council as a child to advocating at the State Capitol as an adult, has led me to this moment. I want my daughter to grow up knowing her culture is valued, her community is safe, and her voice has power. I hope she inherits not only our traditions but also the responsibility to care for our people, our lands, and one another.
My story is only one story, but it reflects something much larger: the resilience of urban Native families who continue to preserve culture, protect community, and create change for future generations. I carry the teachings of my ancestors with me, and I hope that the path I leave behind makes the journey a little easier for those who come next.