Alfred Walking Bull

AWB-on native land

Alfred Walking Bull | he/they pronouns
Hoyekiyapi | Calls for Them

Offering storyelling, media, facilitation, coaching, and professional navigation services.

Culture and policy change, adaptation to changing circumstances, and navigating interpersonal dynamics in a professional setting requires intention, patience, compassion, wisdom, fortitude, bravery, and generosity.

Alfred Walking Bull is an enrolled citizen of the Rosebud Sioux Tribe in South Dakota, based in Minneapolis, the ancestral homelands of the Dakota and Anishinaabe people. He has a 20-year background in journalism, communications, organizing, and facilitation.

His approach to facilitation, evaluation, and communications is rooted in the Intercultural Development Continuum, a concept of the Intercultural Development Inventory to tailor developmentally-appropriate curricula, exercise, reflection, and storytelling to meet the needs of his clients.

Alfred’s background also includes political organizing for elections, issues and community. He identifies as gay, queer, Two Spirit and a person of faith in recovery.

His hobbies include reading, designing and percolating the perfect cup of coffee.

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An Idea, not An Ideal

At the end of “The Madness of King George,” the previously-waylayed monarch regains his sanity (albeit briefly in the historical context) to deliver the last few lines: “The king is himself again. We must try to be more of a family. There are model farms now, model villages, even model factories. Well, we must be … Continue reading An Idea, not An Ideal


In my recovery program, one of my favorite adages is to let go and let god. As someone who grew up idolizing Bea Arthur, I replaced it with, “Let go and let Maude.” Sometimes, my higher power is a headstrong white woman from the 1970s, sometimes, she’s the god of Abraham, sometimes, she’s my mother, … Continue reading Move


The first time I heard my ina find a blond hair on her laundry, I thought a snake had come into our house. “Hun-hun-hi!” she cried as she sorted out the laundry. I asked her what happened and all she could do was stammer as she pulled the long, blond strand from her clothes. When … Continue reading Hair

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