Meet Dyana DeCoteau-Dyess

We’re excited to introduce you to the always interesting and insightful Dyana DeCoteau-Dyess. We hope you’ll enjoy our conversation with Dyana below.

Dyana, thanks so much for taking the time to share your insights and lessons with us today. We’re particularly interested in hearing about how you became such a resilient person. Where do you get your resilience from?

I draw my resilience from my family and the community on the reservation where I was raised. Like many of my siblings and younger cousins, I grew up surrounded by generational trauma and harmful cycles. However, one positive aspect I noticed—both in my family and the larger community, which faced similar struggles—was how everyone responded when someone was in need. People showed up without hesitation if someone needed help, food, or support. Even while dealing with their battles with addiction and pain, they demonstrated strength and compassion. That’s what I took away from my childhood.

My grandmother and my mom were incredibly resilient individuals. They faced their traumas, and I genuinely believe that if they had access to mental health support, like therapy, they could have gained the tools to break those cycles. Nevertheless, I witnessed moments when their strength and resilience shone through. We grew up poor, but somehow we always found a way to raise money for birthdays and Christmas. I hold onto those small but powerful memories.

I carried that resilience with me while raising my brothers. I ensured that our bills were paid, that they were fed, and that I could do little things—like taking them on day trips or to the movies—to bring them joy, even while I was working through my trauma. My youngest brother lived with me at 16 when I had my first child. During that time, our town, Minot, suffered a devastating flood, and rent skyrocketed due to the oil boom. I worked over 52 hours a week for two years to ensure my daughter and brother had a safe place to call home. I did this because I knew my grandmother and mom would have done the same.

Despite battling my struggles, I remembered how they persevered and worked hard. I passed that work ethic down to my brothers, who are now incredibly hardworking and always willing to help others in the community, even strangers. I am also trying to instill those values in my children.

It was hard for me to ask for help for a long time. I grew up feeling like no one was there for me, so I learned to do everything independently. However, as an adult, I have learned to set aside my ego and ask for support when needed. My community shows up for me, and I have a partner who does the same. These examples of strength, asking for help, and giving back continue through the next generation.

Great, so let’s take a few minutes and cover your story. What should folks know about you and what you do?

Becoming a first-generation college graduate is something I never imagined would be part of my story—and even now, saying it out loud feels surreal. This journey has been deeply personal, but it is also bigger than me. I’ve pursued this path for my growth, to show my children that they can reach their goals at any stage in life, and to inspire my siblings to chase their dreams. Art has always been at the heart of who I am, and through education, I’ve found a way to turn that passion into purpose.
Since childhood, art has been my escape. Drawing came naturally, offering me comfort and a way to process the challenges around me. Like many artists, I didn’t initially believe a creative path was something I could build a life around. That belief began to change through photography—something that’s always had a place in my life thanks to my Kookum, my grandmother.
When I stayed with her, we had a cherished tradition: sitting together and going through boxes, suitcases, and albums filled with family photos. Each image had a story; through those moments—laughing, crying, and listening. Even then, I dreamed of having boxes of photographs of my own. Without knowing it, I was becoming the memory keeper in our family—the one behind the camera, capturing our lives. Now, I hold photos of loved ones who have passed into the spirit world, and I understand how sacred that role truly is.
In 2020, during the pandemic, my Kookum passed away in a retirement home. The grief was heavy, so was the guilt. One of my lifelong goals had been to care for her myself, and losing her without being by her side shattered me. That loss pushed me to begin therapy, where I also began confronting childhood trauma I had long buried. Out of that healing came a renewed sense of direction: I would return to school and finish what I started.
I enrolled at Dakota College at Bottineau and rediscovered my love for art through two electives—Smartphone Photography and Visual Arts. A professor, Clint Saunders, saw something in me and encouraged me to pursue photography more seriously. He told me I had a strong eye and a unique perspective. With his support and that of my partner, I transferred to Minot State University, determined to make the most of my second chance.
This time, I immersed myself fully. I wanted to be present on campus, to build a foundation in the arts, and to be part of a creative community. I fell in love with every class, even those that challenged me. There were moments I broke down, wondering if I was doing the right thing, but I always got back up and kept going.
Now, I proudly identify as an interdisciplinary artist. Every medium I’ve explored—darkroom photography, printmaking, alternative processes, ceramics, and sculpture—has shaped my voice and deepened my practice. My work is deeply rooted in memory, family, and Ojibwe heritage. As a reconnecting Native person, I wasn’t raised with my culture or language. My grandmother and mother both attended boarding schools, and the generational trauma from that loss of culture has rippled through our family. But through art, I’ve found a way back. I’m healing, reclaiming, and learning who I am.
When I was younger, the only Indigenous art I saw was filtered through the settler’s gaze, romanticized the stoic, sage Native American from the past, frozen in time. Today, I’m proud to be part of a growing movement of contemporary Native artists who reclaim our narratives and challenge outdated stereotypes. It’s powerful to be part of that shift.
Art has become more than expression—it’s become healing. When people encounter my work, I hope they feel curiosity, connection, or the quiet comfort of recognition.
Recently, I was accepted into the MFA Photography program at the University of South Dakota. My partner, our children, and I are preparing to move together this fall, and I’m excited to begin this next chapter.
Looking ahead, my dream is to give back. I want to teach at the college level or bring workshops to reservations and underserved communities, mainly focused on alternative photography and healing through creative expression. So many communities like mine lack access to these kinds of spaces. I want to help change that. I want to share what I’ve learned, uplift others, and use art to foster healing, growth, and reconnection.

Looking back, what do you think were the three qualities, skills, or areas of knowledge that were most impactful in your journey? What advice do you have for folks who are early in their journey in terms of how they can best develop or improve on these?

1. Resilience and adaptability
Growing up with a lot of uncertainty taught me how to endure hard times. Whether it was balancing school, work, parenting, or grief, I had to adapt and push forward. That resilience helped me stay focused when things got overwhelming.

Advice: Life won’t always go as planned—and that’s okay. Be flexible, allow yourself to pivot, and keep moving forward. When one path closes, look for the next one. Progress doesn’t have to be perfect—it just has to continue.

2. Willingness to seek healing and support
One of the most significant turning points for me was going to therapy. It helped me deal with grief, childhood trauma, and the guilt I had carried for years. I also had to unlearn the idea that I had to take everything alone. Learning to ask for help and receiving it made me stronger—, ot weaker.

Advice: Healing is part of the journey. You don’t need to wait until you’re “better” to begin. Whether it’s therapy, creative outlets, or trusted people to talk to, make space for emotional growth. You deserve that.

3. A strong and supportive community
Having a tight-knit support system—whether it’s friends, classmates, mentors, or family—has kept me grounded. My partner and I work together through the highs and lows, and that open communication has helped us grow. I’ve also leaned on my community and found strength in showing up for each other.

Advice: Build or find a circle where you feel safe and supported. That could be your school program, therapy group, or a couple of good friends. Choose relationships that help you grow, not ones that drain you. If you have a partner, ensure you’re helping each other level up, not just getting through the day.

4. Embracing mistakes as part of the process
Mistakes will happen. They’re where the biggest lessons come from. What matters is whether we grow from them. If we keep making the same mistake, it usually means there’s still something we haven’t faced or learned.

Advice: Don’t let failure stop you. Let it teach you. Every misstep is a lesson, and every lesson is an opportunity to level up. The key is not just getting through challenges, but understanding what they’re trying to show you.

What is the number one obstacle or challenge you are currently facing and what are you doing to try to resolve or overcome this challenge?

The biggest challenge I’m currently facing is time. I started my art career later in life and still want to accomplish so much. At 44, I just earned my BFA, while many of my peers from school and those my age have been in their careers for over a decade. Sometimes, this makes me feel a bit behind and sad. I wonder if I had been nurtured more as a child and surrounded by adults who advocated for me, would I have started my career earlier?

However, I remind myself that everything I’ve lived through has shaped who I am today. My experiences, the resilience I’ve built, my values, and even my artistic voice have all come from my life, not despite it. My children are blessings; had I taken a different path, I might not have had them. So, even though I sometimes reflect on the “what ifs,” I always return to this essential truth: I’m here now.

What helps me is staying focused on my goals. After graduate school, I want to be a significant part of the art world—I aspire to exhibit in New York and teach and give back. I often wonder how many strong years I have left to build all that. Yes, I do wonder. But I plan to keep creating work, showing up, and striving for my goals well into my 80s, if possible. The only way to overcome this obstacle is to keep moving forward, stay present, and remind myself that it’s never too late to embrace the person I was always meant to become.

Contact Info:

• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/birdiedyess/

Image Credits

Headshot: Rick Heit, Social Media Specialist, Minot State University