ADRIENNE BENJAMIN RECEIVES CHAMPION OF CHANGE AWARD - March 2025

By Aabawaagiizhigookwe, Toya Stewart Downy

There’s a saying that encourages people to give others their f lowers while they live so they enjoy looking at them, smelling them, and savoring the feeling of being appreciated and honored when receiving the gift of a beautiful bouquet. Band member Adrienne Benjamin received her flowers in a big way when she was honored as one of the Champions of Change during the State of Minnesota’s annual Martin Luther King, Jr. celebration on Jan. 20.

The award, presented by Minnesota Governor Tim Walz, honors leaders who have demonstrated leadership and volunteerism and made significant contributions by promoting peace, building cross-cultural relationships and advancing civil and human rights. This year’s Champion of Change award went to eight individuals or organizations.

Benjamin said she was honored to be recognized for her many years of work in the community, but she was also surprised and humbled. Later in the day and after she had some time to reflect on the very public recognition, she wrote on her social media channels, “Today, on such a significant day for our country in so many ways. I was honored to be thought of for the work that I do and have done around truth and reconciliation with [Minnetonka] and raising the visibility of Anishinaabeg through my art. So often, change is thought to happen through an election, or a large public act. I will tell you this; it’s in the small and sometimes difficult conversations. It’s being brave enough to speak up.

“It’s calling out injustice, no matter how small: everywhere, every time," Benjamin said. "It’s being okay with being 'that bitch' for speaking your mind. It’s doing things when you’re scared of what others might think. Those are the moments that matter. Those are the breakthroughs. That is change, even if it just changes you.”

Indeed it does change a person and Benjamin is living proof. To know that, one almost has to go back to the beginning of her story as a youth growing up along the unpaved roads in Chiminising (Isle) back in the 1990’s. She attended high school in Isle and it was during the time of the very high-profile treaty rights case. That meant that she, her friends, and other Native American students were treated differently and the actions of those around her were filled with countless incidents of micro aggressions and bias.

It was more than once that she heard classmates say, “Shhh, the Indians are here,” she recalled.

There were slurs thrown around and it seemed that the Native American students were always thought to be guilty or the ones causing problems at the campus.

“You never saw anyone like you in a position of power and a model of success,” she said, noting the school mascot was the Isle “Indians.”

Besides her tight connections to other Native American students, the other thing that made school more bearable was playing basketball on the school team. She played on the varsity team beginning in 8th grade and four of the five starting players on the varsity team were also Native American. Basketball helped her survive high school up to her senior year. She made the decision to leave high school in her senior year and pursue her general educational development degree, commonly called “GED.”

Benjamin’s other sources of strength were her grandparents, Oliver Benjamin and Marie Sam Gudim. They were first language speakers, exposing her to Ojibwe at home, and her grandpa used flashcards to teach her. He also took her to Big Drum.

“That was a main factor of staying attached to the culture and having a connection to it,” she said referring to the time spent with her grandparents.

She moved to the Twin Cities when she was 17 and later moved to South Dakota with her boyfriend where the couple became pregnant with her oldest daughter, Isabella. Though all first time parents go through trials, the ones they faced exceed ed the norm. Her baby was born with Meconium Aspiration Syndrome. MAS is a condition that occurs when a newborn baby inhales meconium, the first stool passed by a baby, into their lungs during or before birth. This led to Isabella having a stroke due to lack of oxygen to her brain from the MAS at birth.

Long after Isabella’s birth, a surgeon finally identified the correct timeline of the issues leading to Bella's diagnosis of Cerebral Palsy.

This situation set a table for her to understand the world in a different way and how life doesn't always go the way you think it will. "This ignited a flame in me for making change hap pen in the world and wanting to do good things for other people.”

While all of this was happening, she moved to Onamia, but continued to struggle with the impact of being a young mom, having a child with special needs, dealing with mental health issues, and post-traumatic stress disorder, which resulted in debilitating panic attacks. Through therapy, she learned to coping skills and how to function in the world again.

Fast forward to when Bella was around five years old, Benjamin felt like she was ready to move forward in her life. She began working with Larry “Amik” Smallwood at the Immersion Grounds.

“That was a major turning point for me. He was my best friend, a father figure to me and I learned so much out there,” said Benjamin. “He brought me along to naming ceremonies with him, he took me ricing, and also brought me back to Big Drum — a key factor in my healing."

During that time, in 2009, Benjamin had a second child and just three weeks after her daughter, Taliya, was born, Benjamin got a flu shot. The result was that she developed an acute severe case of Guillain-Barre syndrome (GBS). GBS is a rare autoimmune disorder where the body's immune system mistakenly attacks the peripheral nerves, causing inflammation and damage. This left her temporarily paralyzed for about one week. She spent one month in rehab learning to walk and talk again. She was 27 years old at the time. "After everything that happened to Bella, and then this, I was really mad at the world. I didn’t tell anyone, not even Amik, what was going on."

Amik showed up at the rehab center and told her he didn’t want her to lose hope. He said, "The people who end up helping the most people — who Anishinaabeg need most on this Earth — end up going through really hard stuff." This led to another turning point in Benjamin’s life and when she regained her health she made another shift. Read more about Benjamin’s story when part two is published in the April issue of the Inaajimowin.