A Community of All My Relations
One Engineer’s Perspective
By Tsali Cross

In 2004, I marched in the opening procession of the National Museum of the American Indian alongside my mother and adopted grandpa Jacob Ahtone. During the procession I, like many others present on that historic day, was mesmerized by the beauty and pride of our nations. Through the colors, drumming, singing and dancing, I imagined how glorious our past once was and reveled in the continued beauty of our traditions.
As I watched my 80-year-old grandfather, a former Kiowa chief who recently passed on, shake his rattle and dance, dressed in his finest regalia alongside so many others, I felt a powerful connection to those around me. It was a connection to past, present and future, to the family with me and also to all my relations present that day. In that moment, I felt the power of community.
In the years since, I’ve found myself reflecting upon the need for and the power of community among Indian people. As a Native engineer, it has been an interesting journey to seek out and draw strength from my community, but a vital journey nonetheless.
Last year, after 12 long, challenging and ultimately rewarding years as a student at the University of Colorado at Boulder (CU-Boulder), I received my Ph.D. in mechanical engineering. How I attained my educational goal is a testament to the network of support I enjoyed, my own personal ambition and hard work, with a little good luck thrown in for good measure. As an undergraduate, I had discovered my real passion for engineering lay within research and development (R&D). I decided to pursue an advanced degree when presented with the opportunity by my adviser, hoping it could lay the foundation for a future career in R&D. With a small but supportive Native network of friends and colleagues, I made it through.
Throughout my education, I attended schools that lacked a Native presence. I have come to discover that, in this respect, my academic experience prepared and trained me very well for my professional career. To put this in perspective, according to the report The Status of Native Americans in Science and Engineering (2003), only 1,369 Native Americans graduated with bachelor’s degrees in the sciences and engineering (excluding the social sciences and psychology), 176 with master’s degrees, and 34 with doctoral degrees. Contrast this to the number of bachelor’s degrees conferred the same year in science and engineering to the population as a whole: 223,898. It is no wonder the path I have chosen for myself has often seemed an isolated one.
Not surprisingly, the low number of Native students in post-secondary institutions is also reflected in the workplace. Before graduation, I peered over the horizon and did not see many Indian faces waiting to welcome me on the other side. In 1999, the year I graduated with my bachelor’s degree, only 0.3% of the 3.4 million scientists and engineers who were employed in science and engineering occupations were Native Americans.
Then, these numbers were not easy for me to put in context, but I soon experienced their practical implications firsthand. At Intel Corporation, my current employer, I have met only one other Indian, who also happens to be AISES’ 2006 Professional of the Year, Frank Martinez, a member of the Navajo Nation. Although Intel is an enormous organization, replete with many Indian members of the Intel Native Americans Network, in California we do not currently have a chapter. It is familiar territory for me yet again.
What does this mean for Native scientists like myself? Throughout our lifetime, we will find ourselves increasingly bearing the load to help other Natives walk the same path we have before them. Anticipating this, we should embrace every opportunity to network with one another and to reach out to those considering following in our footsteps. As such, there is no better time for organizations such as AISES to be growing and positioning themselves as influential organizations amongst our people and also across multiple industries.
Beyond AISES, we must continue to grow our quiet revolution. Quite simply, this can begin just by reaching out to the community around us. In doing so, I have found both solace and support from my Native peers. For example, while interning at Sandia National Laboratories in Albuquerque, I made sure to introduce myself to Sandia’s very strong Native American support network. I instantly felt welcomed. I was able to be an active part of a community dedicated to giving back, and in doing so, was nurtured myself. I was able to help recruit college students, introduce the world of microelectro mechanical systems to K-12 students, play basketball for the intramural Indian squad, and thoroughly appreciate the distinctive, light and crispy, yet fluffy style of Marie Brown’s fry bread. I was connected and felt part of an important movement.
It was always clear to me how fortunate I was to benefit from the quality, dedication and stability of the leadership at Sandia. Someone had once envisioned a Sandia community where Native people could thrive and had pushed up their sleeves to do the hard work to make it a reality. I had the good fortune to reap the rewards of their endeavors.
In light of the fact that Native people both studying and working in technology are few and far between, sometimes we encounter the call to provide the leadership ourselves. I first experienced this as “the elder” graduate student at the University of Colorado at Boulder. Because CU-Boulder currently has no Native science or engineering faculty, I was asked to be the AISES adviser, providing leadership and advice to fellow students, some not much younger than me.
It was by no means an easy task to finish a doctoral dissertation in engineering while serving in an academic advising role typically reserved for a paid professional. But I knew there was a need, and I felt I could provide some direction. Soon, I was heavily involved with AISES and even became involved in leading an initiative to establish a Native American program on campus.
My role in this initiative has taught me the value in finding allies and community from those outside of Indian Country. James and Elsie Abrams, whose vision and generosity have been the impetus behind revitalized efforts to establish a Native American program at CU-Boulder have a sincere interest in the recruitment and retention of Native Americans in engineering. In fact, they attended CU-Boulder’s Multicultural Engineering Program’s banquet this year, at which only one Indian student marched proudly to the podium to stand with the other graduates to receive his well-deserved moment in the spotlight.
The Abramss are personally involved in our lives, and caringly remind us of a core value from our own traditions: give back. The Abramses are living proof that one need not be an Indian to be my relative. One day I hope to return and see that all of the Abrams’ efforts and my small contribution to growing the community at CU-Boulder have multiplied. I hope to return to find a Native student community thriving. I hope to one day sit at our own packed graduation banquet just for the multitude of Native students marching to the stage.
This is the future that I work toward. I believe the future of tribal sovereignty and infrastructure will be built upon scientists, engineers, educators, accountants, philosophers, artists, business owners, administrators and good citizens. It is essential that we build a pipeline from high schools to the professional world so the students and future engineers of tomorrow won’t need to search for their community. Rather, they will see the world as I did on that day I stood alongside my beloved grandfather at the National Museum of the American Indian, surrounded by a flourishing and proud community of all our relations.

Dr. Tsali Cross, Cherokee/Caddo, lives in Santa Clara, California, and is a wet etch process engineer for Intel Corporation.