Walking With Intention: Aiyana on visibility, identity, and using fashion as resistance.
At first glance, Aiyana moves with the kind of presence that feels effortless. The kind that belongs on a runway, in front of a lens, under bright lights. But beyond the heels, the hair, the carefully styled moments, Aiyana is someone far more grounded than the industry often allows space for.
She’s an introvert at heart. Someone who prefers comfort over couture, softness over spectacle. And while she loves modeling, what matters most to her has never been the glamour itself; it’s the platform that comes with it. If given the chance to create the same impact through another lane, she says she would take it without hesitation.
That clarity of purpose is what makes her work resonate so deeply.
Identifying as an Afro-Indigenous model and activist, Aiyana moves through fashion with intention. Her presence alone disrupts expectations, but her work goes further than visibility for visibility’s sake. For her, activism means redirection. Using attention as a tool. Telling truths that are often ignored and opening doors for girls who rarely see themselves reflected back in the spaces they’re told they don’t belong.
Modeling entered her life early. She began as a child, appearing in Fisher-Price campaigns, long before she understood the weight an image could carry. It wasn’t until high school that everything shifted. For her senior prom, Aiyana wore a red dress and painted a handprint across her face to raise awareness for Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women. That moment marked the beginning of a deeper understanding; fashion could be more than aesthetics. It could be language.
As she learned more about MMIW, the intention behind her work grew clearer. Competing in the Miss Buffalo pageant wasn’t about winning a crown. It was about access. About stepping into a space where her voice could reach people who weren’t having these conversations at all. She didn’t leave with a title, but she left with something more lasting; validation that the message mattered. One judge, then a member of the county legislature, encouraged her to keep pushing the conversation forward, especially in places where silence had been the norm.
That encouragement became action. And action became Walk in Her Shoes.
The fashion show was born from pain, but also from responsibility. Aiyana speaks openly about the statistics because they are lived realities, not abstract numbers. Murder is the third leading cause of death for Native women. Rates of sexual assault, stalking, and domestic violence are disproportionately high. Her mother has experienced each of these. She herself recently survived a stalking incident. These stories aren’t distant; they’re personal. They follow Indigenous women every time they leave home.
Walk in Her Shoes was created to make that reality impossible to ignore.
Rather than relying on shock or sensationalism, Aiyana chose storytelling. Every element of the show is intentional; the garments, the music, the pacing, the narration. The runway becomes immersive, guided by facts, history, and lived experiences, while still celebrating Indigenous beauty, creativity, and resilience. It’s not about reducing Native women to victims, but about honoring their presence. Their survival. Their refusal to be erased.
For Aiyana, visibility means being truly seen. It’s about educating those outside Indigenous communities while also protecting the dignity of those within them. It’s about disrupting stereotypes and reclaiming identity in spaces that weren’t built with Indigenous women in mind.
Some moments stay with her more than others. After last year’s show, a young girl approached her, asking for a photo and a signature on the program. She shared that she hoped to do something important someday too. That moment, Aiyana says, is everything. It’s proof that the work reaches beyond awareness and into possibility. That young Black, Native, and mixed girls are seeing themselves reflected in leadership, in creativity, in impact.
Advocacy hasn’t come without resistance. As an Afro-Indigenous woman, Aiyana has faced criticism questioning whether she is “enough” of either identity to speak on MMIW. She’s been told to focus on her “primary” heritage, a statement that cuts deeply when your existence refuses to fit neatly into someone else’s categories. It’s taken time, thick skin, and grounding to continue forward. But the cause is bigger than perception. Protecting Native women means protecting all Native women, regardless of how others try to define them.
When people engage with her work, Aiyana hopes they leave with respect, not pity. An understanding that MMIW is not random, but rooted in colonialism, racism, and systemic erasure. She wants audiences to carry that awareness into conversations, classrooms, media spaces, and everyday life. The show isn’t only about loss; it’s about presence. About survival. About resistance.
For Indigenous creatives and activists who aren’t sure where to begin, her advice is simple; start. Change doesn’t have to arrive fully formed. It can begin with a post, a conversation, an event, a decision to show up as yourself. Movements are built from small, consistent choices.
Looking ahead, Aiyana is preparing for the next Walk in Her Shoes fashion show, scheduled for October 2026. She’s also set to present research on the lack of media attention surrounding MMIW this May at Buffalo State University. Her work continues to evolve, but the intention remains the same; visibility that leads to action, and storytelling that refuses to let Indigenous women disappear.
In a world that often prioritizes spectacle over substance, Aiyana reminds us that the most powerful statements are the ones rooted in truth. And that sometimes, walking with intention is the most radical thing you can do.
