A growing contingent of Southeast Alaskans are driving local economic transformation toward sustainability and Indigenous leadership. Traditional industries like logging and fishing are being supplemented by innovative fields including renewable energy, sustainable tourism, mariculture, the arts, and more. However, addressing challenges like housing shortages, childcare scarcity, high costs, and balancing economic growth with community needs remain prevalent.

For over a decade, the Sustainable Southeast Partnership — a collective impact network, has played a critical role in fostering this evolution. Rural Economic Development Catalyst Brooke Leslie of Shxʼat ḵwáan Wrangell hosted at Spruce Root focuses on holistic systems change. Outgoing Mariculture Catalyst Keolani Booth of Maxłaxaała Metlakatla hosted by Ecotrust, advocates for sustainability and local decision making in the growing mariculture sector.

Together their work underscores the interconnectedness of Southeast Alaska’s economic and cultural ecosystems, ensuring that development is guided by collaboration, stewardship and respect for community and Indigenous values.

Holistic systems change with Brooke Leslie

For Leslie, the future of economic development lies in systems change. This involves fundamentally transforming how we measure economic success, and ensure sustainability across ecological, economic and cultural dimensions while navigating an ever-evolving socio-political landscape.

“Sustainability means looking at things as a connected ecosystem, rather than individual issues, acknowledging how beautifully complex and interconnected this work is. To me, sustainability is stewarding our ecosystem,” Leslie says.

Rural Economic Development Catalyst Brooke Leslie at the Kake Culture Camp. (Photo by Ḵ aa Yahaayí Shkalneegi Muriel Reid)

Brooke carries the name Wooshkeeká. She is Haida, Yakjaanas, double fin killer whale, a grandchild of the L’uknax.adí, and from the Scottish clan Leslie. She was raised in Wrangell and went to the University of Idaho for music and business accounting. She grew up in a small family business while living a traditional way of life harvesting. Today, she is raising her daughter Lola with cultural practices, values and traditions.

Could you share your background and how you transitioned into your catalyst role?

My family owned a logging company, so I grew up during the timber industry boom. When the industry crashed in the ‘90s, my parents reinvested in tourism, an industry that took a long time to build. I began managing our family tour company in 2013 and stayed until after the pandemic. I also worked as an interim tour coordinator for our local tribe before joining Spruce Root in 2023.

What does the “rural economic development catalyst” role look like on the ground?

The way this role looks in practice is dynamic and responsive to the needs of our communities. Economic development is broad and encompasses many industries. When I joined Spruce Root, I dove right into serving as a liaison for mariculture in Southeast Alaska through a federal Build Back Better grant.

Some projects I helped support over this past year ranged from housing, cultural tourism, recreation on the Tongass, and lending policies and loan products based upon Indigenous values. I’m administering a heat pump grant that will install hundreds of heat pumps in tribally-owned homes on Prince of Wales Island this year. I’m supporting fisheries work taking a holistic approach empowering local fishermen and communities that depend on them to build a future of sustainable fisheries and equitable access.

I also host monthly Rural Economic Development (RED) calls, bringing people together across sectors to collaborate. It is open to everyone, reach out if interested in joining.

Ultimately, my role is all about community — uplifting Indigenous values and practices, and building healthy collaborative relationships. It’s about supporting economic development in areas that matter to our communities like tourism, fishing, outdoor recreation, energy — while maintaining a sense of place and culture.

What are some personal values that guide what you do in your role with SSP?

In 2018, I felt like a tangled-up fishing line. I was juggling too many roles functioning as the executive director of our tour company. Over time, I realized I was living a life outside my values. I stepped back, reevaluated, and began to understand the way modern society and the Western world works isn’t healthy for anyone — we’ve set ourselves up for burnout. I saw the need for balance and values-alignment in our workplaces.

Economic development is about supporting areas that matter to our communities like tourism, fishing, outdoor recreation, energy– while maintaining a sense of place and culture. Pictured is a visit to Denny Corbin’s fishing lodge near Lisianski Inlet. (Photo by Bethany Goodrich)

Spruce Root and SSP lead by example, putting people and values first to create a strong work culture. Like securing your own oxygen mask before helping others, we empower our team first then extend that to our work. This foundation strengthens all our work — from relationships to lending to development. Now I help spread these human-centered, sustainable business practices to other industries and entrepreneurs.

What are some trends or challenges you’ve been seeing in Southeast rural economic development?

Housing, childcare, and the high costs of energy and transportation have all been cited as some of the most significant barriers to economic sustainability in rural Southeast Alaska. If you dig into the six RISE reports that were prepared for the SSP by Rain Coast Data, that is what you see in all seven communities.

Both newcomers and local/Indigenous residents with generational history to their community struggle to stay due to housing costs. This past year, through my role at Spruce Root I was able to help facilitate a housing summit in Sitka that brought together organizations from different aspects of housing to ideate creative solutions. This work, when implemented, can help provide a model for other communities to draw from.

With childcare, there’s not enough of it, and what exists is often unaffordable and/or limited. These issues create barriers to economic growth because you can’t build a workforce without addressing them.

How do you envision the future of SSP?

Collective impact networks are increasingly vital in an increasingly polarized world and SSP’s model in particular inspires others in Alaska and beyond. By telling our story and sharing what we’ve accomplished, we can foster innovative, cross-agency solutions.

Sustainability is key. We need to redefine economic success beyond GDP and profit, measuring how it benefits people, place and industry while honoring cultural values. Everything interconnects — fishing affects housing affects childcare. Past boom-and-bust cycles show how mismanagement creates ripple effects. Moving forward, we need to focus on long-term solutions that honor interconnection while leveraging funding and partnerships to reduce redundant and often competing efforts and rather complement each other’s work.

We are also doing great work with the Seacoast Trust, envisioning a new economic model for Southeast Alaska, where access to capital and a strong foundation of Indigenous values is the basis for healthy communities. Less reliance on directly grant tied funding allows for more autonomy in building a future that honors our future and heritage.

Barnacle Foods harvests wild bull kelp in Southeast Alaska in 2020. (Photo by Bethany Goodrich)

How can interested Southeast Alaskans get involved?

Sign up for our SSP newsletters, join our regional Workforce Development or RED group call. Share resources. Practice these concepts of sustainability as an individual. Model them for the next generation.

Responsibly Growing the Blue Economy with Keolani Booth

Over the last decade, interest in Southeast Alaska’s coastline for mariculture development grew considerably, backed by over $54 million dollars in state and federal investments. This raises questions about the impact of “the blue economy,” kelp, seaweed and shellfish farming, may have on traditional, ecological and economic livelihoods. For Booth, the future of mariculture hinges on a fundamental principle: Indigenous leadership.

“We’re bringing our culture to the forefront. Not just a footnote, but the whole story,” Booth says.

Growing up in Maxłaxaała Metlakatla, Booth’s connection to the ocean has always been a guiding force in his career. Having been a councilman, fisherman, commercial diver, and subsistence harvester, Booth brought a multifaceted perspective to mariculture — one that integrates traditional values and practices — that he will continue in a new capacity.

How did you find yourself working to support Indigenous representation in mariculture?

For six years, I’ve worked to bring mariculture opportunities to Metlakatla. I’ve also advocated for Indigenous Peoples’ inclusion in the environmental conservation space working with local and international non-government organizations. We’re from the places these companies are concerned with. It only makes sense that Indigenous people are looked to as leaders in sustainable development of these resources.

There’s a big race to get folks out on local waters because a small percentage of each bay can be used. Eventually, those permits will run out, and in times of hardship, Indigenous people holding those permits may have to sell. We don’t want a repeat of what we’ve seen with commercial fishing where quota and permits leave Indigenous and rural hands. We need to set these communities up so they have control and that foundation needs to be built now.

What are some of the entry barriers for Indigenous and rural community members in mariculture? What’s at stake and how are you addressing it?

There’s a lot of curiosity and Alaska has huge potential — 19-foot tides in winter, nutrient-rich, clean water — but startup costs are high. Lease fees alone for a 10-year permit can be $15,000. It can be very difficult for locals to afford those leases and compete with the large companies pursuing them from all over the world.

Keolani Booth gives a presentation at the third annual Mariculture Conference of Alaska in Sitka in 2024. (Photo provided by Sustainable Southeast Partnership)

The governor’s new bill extends leases to 20 years, with an option for another 20. That’s 40 years! That means that for the rest of my life someone will have a permit for a very large swath of water in my backyard, and if we don’t get involved that “someone” could have very little familiarity with, or connection to, the lands, waters and values of Southeast Alaska.

To address this, Alaska Mariculture Cluster and Spruce Root developed a revolving loan fund to help locals get started. This is just scratching the surface, without support, creativity and policy, large companies from around the world will dominate this industry that has very real implications to rural and Indigenous people who depend on the ocean. It’s all connected, and collectively we can source so much more inspiration and resources from each other and address these needs holistically.

How do you envision mariculture supporting local economies and Indigenous communities?

Indigenous communities have carefully harvested, observed, traded and depended on resources from the water forever. To many, the prospect of outsiders with less knowledge or connection to this place coming in and exploiting our waters is scary.

I believe mariculture can, however, complement our way of life through job creation, diversifying local economies, and sustainable food production. It can also be complementary to community harvest. Black seaweed, for example, is hugely important to us. It needs to stay wild and plentiful. With increased investments in mariculture, we have more data, tools and access to scientific support to ensure black seaweed continues to thrive. The trick is ensuring mariculture development is done responsibly.

What does responsible mariculture look like?

It begins with truly engaging with our Indigenous communities. Before even thinking about profit, outside companies need to recognize community concerns, needs and understand that working in a community means being part of that community. If they want these products, it’s our people who should be out on the water.

We also need to see Indigenous and community leadership as the business owners and entrepreneurs themselves. That’s where the revolving loan fund, workshops, trainings and other resource sharing comes in.

Indigenous people have stewarded these lands and waters for millennia so people today can have these opportunities. Our values need to be seen in regulation and in policy — not just this situation of talking to us and then choosing to do whatever you want — we need to be included to ensure ocean health for generations.

What are some upcoming resources or ways for interested folks to get involved?

Partners at Barnacle Foods released a report that helps break down barriers for rural communities who are interested in growing, selling and drying kelp. Recognizing the high energy costs of kelp drying and limited capacity in rural Southeast, this report helps provide insights and next steps. Spruce Root has resources and programs including personalized business coaching and the mariculture revolving loan fund. Folks interested in staying up-to-date on the emerging industry can sign up for newsletters and updates from the Alaska Mariculture Alliance and Alaska Sea Grant.

• “Woven Peoples and Place” is the monthly column of the Sustainable Southeast Partnership (SSP). SSP is a dynamic collective impact network uniting diverse skills and perspectives to strengthen cultural, ecological, and economic resilience across Southeast Alaska. Follow along at sustainablesoutheast.net; on Linkedin, Instagram and Facebook at @sustainablesoutheast; and on YouTube @SustainableSoutheastAK.