Yaaw Koo.éex’: Honoring Tradition, Building Community, and Celebrating Renewal

Herring eggs — small, crisp, and soft yellow — are the lifeblood of Southeast Alaska. Each year, in the slush and sleet of early spring, the herring spawn on the branches of hemlock trees placed by tribal members in the waterways of Sheet’ká Kwáan (Baranof Island, AK). This small forage fish is how the Herring Protectors, a Tlingit matriarch-led non-profit, are showing their neighbors paths forward through Tlingit traditional knowledge.

Tlingit people revere herring as a relative, a being with personhood: this relationship offers a blueprint of building more sustainably-minded communities. Herring are a cultural keystone species for in Southeast Alaska. They interwoven through Tlingit ceremonial names and oral histories. Kiks.ádi¹ women (also referred to as the Kaxatjaashaa, “the flipping ladies or herring ladies”),  were known for singing to the herring, welcoming them home and encouraging abundant spawn. Unfortunately, long-term mismanagement of fisheries have caused the once abundant herring to only spawn around Sheet’ká Kwáan. Creatures of all sizes from the land, water, and air depend on healthy herring populations for food, and Tlingit elders have been sounding the alarm bells for Southeast Alaskan herring since the 1970s. The Kaxatjaashaa continue their ancient responsibility of honoring and protecting the herring informed by traditional teachings–one action they take is their recurring Yaaw Koo.éex’ or “Herring Potlatch.”

In 2017,  the Herring Protectors felt a call to action. Alaska’s Board of Fisheries, who manage the Alaskan herring population, were preparing to have their next meeting in Sitka the following January, where they would hear public comment. Led by Louise K’asheechtlaa Brady (Kiks.ádi), the Herring Protectors decided to weave Tlingit cultural and ceremonial traditions into their political action. A small group of dedicated volunteers would prepare for the koo.éex’ — making gifts, coordinating space, finding cooks and culture bearers. They would also rally concerned citizens of all ages and backgrounds to speak at the Board of Fish meeting, finding ways to support local participation in public comment through arranging travel and coordinating speaking schedules.

The Herring Protectors hosted their inaugural Yaaw Koo.éex’ in 2018, and invited board members from the Board of Fisheries to learn about Tlingit cultural connection to the herring. This ceremony was the perfect place to highlight the significance of this fish to the original peoples of Southeast Alaska, and to model what it means to have reverence for other beings. K’asheechtlaa shared that this koo.éex’was a crucial time for elders to speak: they were not cut off by the strict, three-minute speaking time afforded to public commenters at the Board of Fisheries meeting. They finally had the space to explain what herring meant to them as Tlingit people.

The Herring Protectors continue to host the Yaaw Koo.éex’ to coincide with the Board of Fisheries meetings, inviting Tlingit people and non-Indigenous neighbors to participate in the ceremony. These Koo.éex’ have been open to anyone to volunteer and participate. Her reasoning was rooted in her experience: “Before herring protectors, I didn’t have a lot of non-Native friends. There’s still so much self-segregation. In today’s world, there are so few opportunities to come together.” The lack of curiosity about our neighbors perpetuates this self-segregation in Sheet’ká, leading many locals to be unfamiliar with Tlingit people, their culture, and values. “A lot of [the non-Natives] said, ‘we didn’t even know you guys still had ceremonies,’”shared K’asheechtlaa.

So, how do you facilitate cross-cultural learning and sharing to bridge this gap? The solution utilized by the Herring Protectors was to create space where people could come together to learn about one another in an inquisitive and  non-judgemental space. With an allyship agreement in place, the Herring Protectors became a place to speak openly about Tlingit history and clan stories of Sheet’ká Kwáan, reintegrating Tlingit knowledge in the ever-changing town of Sitka. 

This cross-cultural exchange between non-Natives and global Indigenous peoples makes the Yaaw Koo.éex’ unique. So does the fact that most koo.éex’² today are for memorial ceremonies while these Yaaw Koo.éex’ are happening to celebrate a return. The air is not heavy with grief, though grief is present. The destruction of the herring population is intrinsically tied to other losses–loss of traditional food, language, land, and culture. At the heart of these losses is colonialism. The forced attempts to assimilate Native peoples and sever ties to our other-than-human relatives has brought us to a need for remembering our responsibility to the land.  These koo.éex’ give us the tools to strengthen that memory, to push away our grief,  move forward, and re-ground ourselves in our communities.

I grew up going to koo.éex’. I have been a guest and a host. These ceremonies offer insight to Tlingit cultural teachings — as a guest, you learn what it means to be cared for and treasured by your community. They feed you the kind of food that only tastes right at a table full of people you know. They honor you for the work you do through story, song, and gifts. When you are a guest, you respond to the stories, speeches, and songs from your host. Host and guest balance out each act so that none of their words fall to the floor. It is a perpetual uplifting. As a host, you learn what it means to give freely and serve your community. You become a deep listener, curating thoughtful experiences with personalized gifts.

In my time at the 2025 Yaaw Koo.éex’, held in mid-May in my hometown of Sitka, Alaska, I felt this deep care by the hosts. In my hands I also held the communal grief and rage. The grief and rage was softened with each song and gift. There was an outpouring of giveaways: traditional foods like seaweed or smoked fish; ceramics and dishes, household goods; hand-crafted jewelry; traditional plant medicines, and so much more passed to guests by the caring hands of volunteers. The moment our hosts brought out bags and bags of frozen herring eggs, joy washed over the room. The Yaaw Koo.éex’ hosts were reminding us of what it means to be wealthy in the Tlingit way: how much you care, how much you can give away to others, how generous you can be, is to be truly wealthy. 

The Koo.éex’ brought together people of all backgrounds for cultural exchange, learning about the values of the original peoples of the land, and learning about the role they can play in protecting the place they live. Yaaw were revered in this space, teaching community members Yáa at Wooné — “respect for all things.” “All things” in this sense means all relatives, from the sea, to the land, to the air. This respect comes with a duty to ensure sustainable practices in your home, because it is not just about you and the wealth you may have to gain through exploitative harvest. It is about all of your relatives, human and non-human, that you now have a duty to. To keep your community happy, healthy, and thriving, you need to care for even the smallest of creatures that keep so many beings in the sea, land, and air, nourished. 

Aatlein gunalchéesh to Louise K’asheechtlaa Brady for sharing about the work of the Herring Protectors with me.