Danielle Stickman grew up intrinsically tied to the land, traveling the Lake Clark region with her family by boat in the summer and by snowmachine in the winter. Raised in Nondalton in the Lake Clark region, she spent her childhood in a log cabin that her parents built by hand. Her family was deeply ingrained in subsistence activities like fishing and trapping, and the remote nature of her home encouraged time spent outdoors. Dena’ina and Koyukon, Stickman’s deep connection to her ancestral homelands shaped a future career in environmental and cultural advocacy — she now runs an Indigenous non-profit in the Lake Clark region grounded in Dena’ina culture.
“We were always outside — I loved it,” Stickman says of her childhood. Her father trapped, and she remembers pelts and furs hanging around the cabin. Together, her family harvested fish, moose, and caribou and traveled the lakes and rivers in the Lake Clark region. “Both of my parents wanted to make sure that we grew up knowing the land and knowing certain types of aspects of traveling on the land,” she said. In winter, they learned to navigate the frozen lake system safely. In the summer, they learned to read the wind and the subsequent waves that whipped up on the water’s surface.
By middle school, Stickman knew she wanted to work to protect the lands she grew up on. “In middle school, I wanted to be a wildlife biologist, and I wanted to protect the environment,” she says. That early instinct turned into a 14-year career in conservation. She interned with the Alaska Department of Fish and Game in high school, majored in environmental science at the University of Hawai‘i at Hilo, and returned to Alaska to work with Indigenous nonprofits and national NGOs, advocating for subsistence rights and land protections in Alaska and the Arctic.
“Part of our health as a society is reliant on the health of the environment, and if the environment is sick or in pain that really directly impacts us,” she says. Her connection to conservation has always been grounded in her lived experience outdoors. “I think my career is like a hike, you know, there’s been some uphills and then there’s been some easier downhills and flat spaces,” she said. “But each step in my career in conservation has led me to where I am now.”
And hiking is one of Stickman’s favorite ways of connecting to a landscape. She has completed long-distance treks in Nepal, Spain, and Japan, and has hiked extensively across Alaska, but the Lake Clark region always calls her back. “Hiking gives me time and space to experience the land… and how unique and special what we have in our region is,” she says. “Time outside, it’s just time in life when you’re back there,” she adds.
Stickman’s mother, Karen Evanoff, helped found a culture camp for young people in the Lake Clark region 12 years ago. Launched in partnership with other community leaders, the camp centers Dena’ina language, cultural preservation, and time on the land — including visiting a traditional village site and blending cultural teachings with kayaking, water safety, and survival skills. Stickman serves as the camp’s coordinator, helping carry the program forward as youth who once attended as children return as mentors. “That’s the goal that these young people are the next generation of leaders,” she said.
Stickman also serves as executive director of a Dena’ina-led nonprofit, Qizhej Vena, which she founded alongside her mother and other Indigenous women from the region. Qizhej Vena means “a place where people gather” in the Dena’ina language, and the group is working to establish a gathering and cultural center on a property they recently secured in Lake Clark. “We’re hoping to create a world-class gathering center, inspired by Dena’ina values and culture,” Stickman says of the venture. “We’re wanting to nurture the next generation of leaders and educators and individuals within the Dena’ina community and beyond.”
The organization centers language revitalization, cultural preservation, and outdoor leadership. Since securing their property, the nonprofit has focused on stabilizing and upgrading the existing infrastructure. The board is taking time to ground its vision with community input while beginning repairs and improvements on site. Looking ahead, one of their goals is to build a traditional Dena’ina house on the property, incorporating architectural elements that reflect the historic village site at Kijik and create a space that honors how their ancestors lived.
Community members might spend their days there harvesting fish, tending high tunnels, paddling to nearby village sites, or gathering for language lessons and shared meals on the land. Stickman hopes to lead young people on hikes through traditional trading routes in the region, developing outdoor leadership skills and deepening cultural connection to the land. “Being outside develops leadership,” Stickman says. “Like survival and navigation and collective cooperation when you’re with a group.” After years working across the conservation field, she’s looking forward to spending more time at the center itself—especially now, as a new parent. She says that early exposure to traditional lifeways is important for her son, who is not yet a year old. “What I’m looking forward to is just really being back out at the center,” she says from her home in Anchorage. “I’m so excited to get back on the land.”
Emily Sullivan is a photographer and writer focused on outdoor recreation, environmental wellness, and community empowerment. She is based on Dena’ina lands, where she can usually be found skiing, packrafting, or berry picking.
