Stanford is home to 450 Indigenous and Native-identifying students. They represent tribes and communities from across the country and around the world. Many have found community at the university’s Native American Cultural Center and through shared experiences.
This November, Stanford recognized Native American Heritage Month in honor of its Native students, staff and faculty as well as the university’s storied history and connection with the land upon which it sits.
“The Stanford Indigenous footprint is diverse within its diversity,” said Karen Biestman, director of the Stanford Native American Cultural Center. “It’s a rich Indigenous tapestry.”
Below, five Native American students talk about their paths to Stanford, finding community, and what they hope others will learn from their experiences.
Shayna Naranjo
Santa Clara Pueblo
Senior, Comparative Studies in Race and Ethnicity
Kendra Becenti
Diné Nation
Senior, Psychology and Native American Studies
Keoni Rodriguez
Hawaiian/Filipino
Coterm Senior, History and Earth Systems
Jarita Greyeyes
Nēhiyaw of the Muskeg Lake and Red Pheasant Bands of the Cree Nation
PhD Student, Race, Inequality and Language in Education
Ely Jay Nez
Diné Nation
Senior, Biology
Shayna Naranjo
“Stanford wasn’t really on my radar until my college counselor told me the Native community there was abundant and very active compared to a lot of other colleges. I’d gone to an all Native or Indigenous high school in New Mexico, so I needed to find a similar type of community in determining where I would go to college. The Indigenous community at Stanford is growing and seeing more national and international Indigenous groups represented, which demonstrates how Stanford’s Native community calls and is gaining a well-respected reputation for supporting its students. But we need more resources to support that growth and the diversity of students.
“Coming into Stanford, I had known that I wanted to pursue a major or career where my ethnic identity was really at the center of it and would really allow me to explore things that I hadn’t in high school. Through classes, groups and spaces like the Native American Cultural Center, I’ve connected with other students in discussions about colonialism and trying to combat colonialism in our lives, our mentalities and throughout Stanford.
“At times, tension arises at the intersection of being a Native person and a Stanford student. Stanford’s legacy rests on the displacement and disenfranchisement of Native tribes. It can be hard to reconcile that history while being on this campus. … I’ve tried to focus instead on how I exist more broadly as an Indigenous person on campus.
“Celebrating Indigeneity is not easy; it’s contingent on what we know – in our spirit – and that’s been disrupted. Historically, the United States has tried to disconnect us from our Indigeneity. I think the thing that really helps at the end of the day to help students come to terms with their Indigeneity is community support. We all recognize that we exist on this continuum of colonialism. To ensure we’re all well and creating a bright future for Indigenous students to come to Stanford, we’ve defaulted back to community love and care. We’re a community that cares, and we’ll be there for each other through thick and thin because we’ve all been there.”
Shayna Naranjo
“Stanford wasn’t really on my radar until my college counselor told me the Native community there was abundant and very active compared to a lot of other colleges. I’d gone to an all Native or Indigenous high school in New Mexico, so I needed to find a similar type of community in determining where I would go to college. The Indigenous community at Stanford is growing and seeing more national and international Indigenous groups represented, which demonstrates how Stanford’s Native community calls and is gaining a well-respected reputation for supporting its students. But we need more resources to support that growth and the diversity of students.
“Coming into Stanford, I had known that I wanted to pursue a major or career where my ethnic identity was really at the center of it and would really allow me to explore things that I hadn’t in high school. Through classes, groups and spaces like the Native American Cultural Center, I’ve connected with other students in discussions about colonialism and trying to combat colonialism in our lives, our mentalities and throughout Stanford.
“At times, tension arises at the intersection of being a Native person and a Stanford student. Stanford’s legacy rests on the displacement and disenfranchisement of Native tribes. It can be hard to reconcile that history while being on this campus. … I’ve tried to focus instead on how I exist more broadly as an Indigenous person on campus.
“Celebrating Indigeneity is not easy; it’s contingent on what we know – in our spirit – and that’s been disrupted. Historically, the United States has tried to disconnect us from our Indigeneity. I think the thing that really helps at the end of the day to help students come to terms with their Indigeneity is community support. We all recognize that we exist on this continuum of colonialism. To ensure we’re all well and creating a bright future for Indigenous students to come to Stanford, we’ve defaulted back to community love and care. We’re a community that cares, and we’ll be there for each other through thick and thin because we’ve all been there.”
Kendra Becenti
“I’m from New Mexico and grew up for a little bit on the reservation before my family moved to Albuquerque. I was very much in a place where I sat in classes and spaces where I didn’t see myself represented in the curriculum, in the demographics at the schools I went to or in my friend groups. It felt like I didn’t have a strong sense of self in that way.
“Something I struggled with was being in those spaces and being a spokesperson for Native people everywhere. When it came to the few units where we saw a very skewed history being taught of the Indigenous people of New Mexico, it felt like I had a responsibility that was put upon me. Coming into and releasing feelings of shame and coming to it from a place of pride and embracing all of what makes me an Indigenous woman showed up for me in a lot of ways, mostly around creating spaces for community on my high school campus. That was when I started to identify myself visually, wearing Native jewelry and being more vocal about my identity and thoughts about the exclusion of Indigenous folks in these spaces.
“When I came to Stanford for Admit Weekend, I saw the Native community on campus, and it was cool to see the family that was here. It felt like something that I had been missing in my experience growing up in Albuquerque and very white spaces.
“When I think about the intersection of being a student and an Indigenous woman, I don’t want my identity to be defined by this place. I exist here as an Indigenous woman, and long after I exist here, I will continue to exist as an Indigenous woman in many beautiful and sacred ways.
“Stanford gives a lot of space for Indigenous and marginalized folks, but at the same time, there’s so much more the university could be doing. We need more Indigenous faculty here, and we need more spaces where we can be in community. We need a land acknowledgment in front of the campus in big, bold letters. We need to think about the structures we have in place that have put Indigenous folks, especially women, in the position of laborers having to teach about what it means to be Indigenous. These are things we are not being compensated for but are expected to do. I feel a great responsibility not to Stanford, but to the Indigenous folks that I have been in relationship with and community with being here, and that has been the highlight of my Stanford experience.”
Kendra Becenti
“I’m from New Mexico and grew up for a little bit on the reservation before my family moved to Albuquerque. I was very much in a place where I sat in classes and spaces where I didn’t see myself represented in the curriculum, in the demographics at the schools I went to or in my friend groups. It felt like I didn’t have a strong sense of self in that way.
“Something I struggled with was being in those spaces and being a spokesperson for Native people everywhere. When it came to the few units where we saw a very skewed history being taught of the Indigenous people of New Mexico, it felt like I had a responsibility that was put upon me. Coming into and releasing feelings of shame and coming to it from a place of pride and embracing all of what makes me an Indigenous woman showed up for me in a lot of ways, mostly around creating spaces for community on my high school campus. That was when I started to identify myself visually, wearing Native jewelry and being more vocal about my identity and thoughts about the exclusion of Indigenous folks in these spaces.
“When I came to Stanford for Admit Weekend, I saw the Native community on campus, and it was cool to see the family that was here. It felt like something that I had been missing in my experience growing up in Albuquerque and very white spaces.
“When I think about the intersection of being a student and an Indigenous woman, I don’t want my identity to be defined by this place. I exist here as an Indigenous woman, and long after I exist here, I will continue to exist as an Indigenous woman in many beautiful and sacred ways.
“Stanford gives a lot of space for Indigenous and marginalized folks, but at the same time, there’s so much more the university could be doing. We need more Indigenous faculty here, and we need more spaces where we can be in community. We need a land acknowledgment in front of the campus in big, bold letters. We need to think about the structures we have in place that have put Indigenous folks, especially women, in the position of laborers having to teach about what it means to be Indigenous. These are things we are not being compensated for but are expected to do. I feel a great responsibility not to Stanford, but to the Indigenous folks that I have been in relationship with and community with being here, and that has been the highlight of my Stanford experience.”
Keoni Rodriguez
“Both of my parents were engineers, so my academic interests ran the whole gamut while I was growing up. I’d fall in love with a new thing every other month, but history was one of the constants. When I was a kid, I didn’t have the words to describe it … but something about knowing about the world and the people who live in it really spoke to me.
“I grew up in a community of immigrants, and everyone had a really concentrated sense of what I call ‘the somewhere else.’ This sense of where they came from. We would constantly talk about it on the playground, even as children, teaching each other bad words in our family’s language or bonding over similarities like being really family-oriented.
“For me, being mixed, I have a lot of places that I come from. I would feel a sense of pride in the very sparse moments where I would see myself in textbooks. I wanted to hear my people’s stories because I saw us everywhere in the real world, but I didn’t see us in textbooks.
“Freshman year, I was very tentative. I didn’t understand my Hawaiianess as Indigenous until I got here. I remember going to the pancake breakfast at the NACC and seeing it included ‘Native Hawaiian’ on the door, and I blurted out, ‘I don’t know if I belong here.’ But I was told that we are here for Indigenous folks of all sorts. But it still took a long time for me to feel comfortable taking up space. Which I think is a paradox that a lot of Native students feel here.
“If I could tell the Stanford community one thing, it would be to listen to what Native people are saying about ourselves. Native students and faculty really shoulder a lot in terms of making Stanford a place for us. We have to go beyond land acknowledgment. Even though that’s a great first step, there are a thousand more steps in this journey.
“We need to increase the number of Native faculty we have here. We need to think about how we’re institutionalizing support for the Muwekma Ohlone. There’s so much more we can do in building this reciprocal relationship and to think about how we can allow the Muwekma to have sovereignty. We hold a lot of privilege as Stanford, we need to be thinking about how we use that. ”
Keoni Rodriguez
“Both of my parents were engineers, so my academic interests ran the whole gamut while I was growing up. I’d fall in love with a new thing every other month, but history was one of the constants. When I was a kid, I didn’t have the words to describe it … but something about knowing about the world and the people who live in it really spoke to me.
“I grew up in a community of immigrants, and everyone had a really concentrated sense of what I call ‘the somewhere else.’ This sense of where they came from. We would constantly talk about it on the playground, even as children, teaching each other bad words in our family’s language or bonding over similarities like being really family-oriented.
“For me, being mixed, I have a lot of places that I come from. I would feel a sense of pride in the very sparse moments where I would see myself in textbooks. I wanted to hear my people’s stories because I saw us everywhere in the real world, but I didn’t see us in textbooks.
“Freshman year, I was very tentative. I didn’t understand my Hawaiianess as Indigenous until I got here. I remember going to the pancake breakfast at the NACC and seeing it included ‘Native Hawaiian’ on the door, and I blurted out, ‘I don’t know if I belong here.’ But I was told that we are here for Indigenous folks of all sorts. But it still took a long time for me to feel comfortable taking up space. Which I think is a paradox that a lot of Native students feel here.
“If I could tell the Stanford community one thing, it would be to listen to what Native people are saying about ourselves. Native students and faculty really shoulder a lot in terms of making Stanford a place for us. We have to go beyond land acknowledgment. Even though that’s a great first step, there are a thousand more steps in this journey.
“We need to increase the number of Native faculty we have here. We need to think about how we’re institutionalizing support for the Muwekma Ohlone. There’s so much more we can do in building this reciprocal relationship and to think about how we can allow the Muwekma to have sovereignty. We hold a lot of privilege as Stanford, we need to be thinking about how we use that. ”
Jarita Greyeyes
“I grew up in Canada, and before I came to do my PhD, I was the acting associate vice president of Indigenous Affairs at the University of Winnipeg. During my time there, I was doing a lot of the work that led me to the research questions I wanted to explore through a doctorate.
“This drive to come to university to do a doctorate came from my experience as an intergenerational survivor of residential schools. My grandparents attended residential schools and the impacts of that whole generation of people who went through this very harmful schooling experience really impacted how our family saw education and, for me, showed that school isn’t a neutral place, certainly not for Indigenous people. If we want Indigenous people to go to higher education, there should be places where they are reflected in the curriculum and the faculty.
“It’s lonely being an Indigenous PhD student. We have less than 1 percent of doctoral students who identify as Indigenous and very few faculty members who are Indigenous. I came to Stanford because I wanted the best education to serve the communities I am a part of, but it hasn’t been easy. Of course, I have found a wonderful home through the NACC and I think the connections with other Native graduate students really help ground you and push you forward.
“I want to make sure students who are coming here are making those connections beyond the Stanford campus. The relationships we build extend way beyond the life cycle of the program that we were introduced through. It’s not enough for one Native person to get a PhD at Stanford if it is not about fundamentally transforming the experiences of students who come after me.
“We all have a responsibility to understand where we live and work and the Indigenous people of those places. If you do not see Indigenous people reflected where you’re working or going to school, then it’s on all of us to ask questions because questions prompt people to start thinking about how we will start engaging with Indigenous education and all the things we do.”
Jarita Greyeyes
“I grew up in Canada, and before I came to do my PhD, I was the acting associate vice president of Indigenous Affairs at the University of Winnipeg. During my time there, I was doing a lot of the work that led me to the research questions I wanted to explore through a doctorate.
“This drive to come to university to do a doctorate came from my experience as an intergenerational survivor of residential schools. My grandparents attended residential schools and the impacts of that whole generation of people who went through this very harmful schooling experience really impacted how our family saw education and, for me, showed that school isn’t a neutral place, certainly not for Indigenous people. If we want Indigenous people to go to higher education, there should be places where they are reflected in the curriculum and the faculty.
“It’s lonely being an Indigenous PhD student. We have less than 1 percent of doctoral students who identify as Indigenous and very few faculty members who are Indigenous. I came to Stanford because I wanted the best education to serve the communities I am a part of, but it hasn’t been easy. Of course, I have found a wonderful home through the NACC and I think the connections with other Native graduate students really help ground you and push you forward.
“I want to make sure students who are coming here are making those connections beyond the Stanford campus. The relationships we build extend way beyond the life cycle of the program that we were introduced through. It’s not enough for one Native person to get a PhD at Stanford if it is not about fundamentally transforming the experiences of students who come after me.
“We all have a responsibility to understand where we live and work and the Indigenous people of those places. If you do not see Indigenous people reflected where you’re working or going to school, then it’s on all of us to ask questions because questions prompt people to start thinking about how we will start engaging with Indigenous education and all the things we do.”
Ely Jay Nez
“Originally, I honestly was not trying to go to a big school like Stanford. Being a first-generation student, I was trying to find something sustainable to support my family and myself.
“Coming here as a freshman, I experienced a lot of culture shock. I had never lived outside of the reservation or traveled out of the four nearby states. I had a very rigorous attitude and wanted to join everything and do everything. So, I did. And it was a big mistake. After a year of doing the maximum, I burned out.
“But, I wasn’t socially active in the Native community until that happened. So in a way, I’m thankful for my burnout because that led me to the Native community. I lived at Muwekma, and Muwekma led me to the NACC, which led me to more people in the Native community, and I started making friends. I was recharging my battery.
“Honestly, my identity as a Navajo person and a Stanford student doesn’t really intersect. Being a student on the Stanford campus doesn’t provide me with space to practice my traditions or culture. The closest thing I’ve gotten is the Navajo language class, and while that was great for my spiritual well-being, those two identities are different. Now I am focused on connecting with my Native identity as a way to stay healthy. I see being a Stanford student as my job. My identity as a student enables me to take what I learn back to my reservation to help my people. But my Native identity here helps me through my classes and allows me to take care of myself.
“I want to tell the community something I’ve learned about resilience as a first-generation Indigenous student. I want people to realize that resilience is awesome, but you also have to learn to take care of yourself, learn to heal, learn to grow and learn to thrive. Native communities and FLI communities have no choice but to be resilient … but we need to learn how to take a break. And know that if we heal through this, we will be the generation that doesn’t have to tell our kids that we have to be tough to grow into this world. We have to learn how to heal in love.”
Ely Jay Nez
“Originally, I honestly was not trying to go to a big school like Stanford. Being a first-generation student, I was trying to find something sustainable to support my family and myself.
“Coming here as a freshman, I experienced a lot of culture shock. I had never lived outside of the reservation or traveled out of the four nearby states. I had a very rigorous attitude and wanted to join everything and do everything. So, I did. And it was a big mistake. After a year of doing the maximum, I burned out.
“But, I wasn’t socially active in the Native community until that happened. So in a way, I’m thankful for my burnout because that led me to the Native community. I lived at Muwekma, and Muwekma led me to the NACC, which led me to more people in the Native community, and I started making friends. I was recharging my battery.
“Honestly, my identity as a Navajo person and a Stanford student doesn’t really intersect. Being a student on the Stanford campus doesn’t provide me with space to practice my traditions or culture. The closest thing I’ve gotten is the Navajo language class, and while that was great for my spiritual well-being, those two identities are different. Now I am focused on connecting with my Native identity as a way to stay healthy. I see being a Stanford student as my job. My identity as a student enables me to take what I learn back to my reservation to help my people. But my Native identity here helps me through my classes and allows me to take care of myself.
“I want to tell the community something I’ve learned about resilience as a first-generation Indigenous student. I want people to realize that resilience is awesome, but you also have to learn to take care of yourself, learn to heal, learn to grow and learn to thrive. Native communities and FLI communities have no choice but to be resilient … but we need to learn how to take a break. And know that if we heal through this, we will be the generation that doesn’t have to tell our kids that we have to be tough to grow into this world. We have to learn how to heal in love.”