Reciprocity Over Exploitation: How Indigenous Creatives Can Demand More from Running Brands

One of the first questions I asked myself three years ago remains relevant and pressing today: “Is it possible for a brand to have a truly authentic partnership when, above all else, their mission is to profit?”

I’ve always seen running as a beautiful give and take process—something that challenges my mind to stay still and active at the same time. One healthy breath in, one downstep crunch into the dirt at my feet, completely in sync and reciprocal in movement. Running has afforded me a lifetime of direct connection with the land in a world where we’re all increasingly disconnected from the outdoors and our surroundings. I’m Diné (Navajo) and I’ve always grounded my work in K’é—kinship, balance, solidarity, and reciprocity–with the land, people, and movement. K’é is who I am, where I come from, and also how I approach podcast production, writing, or any other content I create. I offer a piece of myself with the understanding that it will help someone on the other side of that interaction.

Three years ago, I had no idea the breadth and depth of the online running community, nor did I understand the gigantic impact running brands would have on my own success, mental health, and podcast audience.

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Brands are the ones responsible for making, promoting, and selling everything from running gear to fueling-related beverages to race experiences. It’s these same entities that are also often responsible for providing crucial sponsorship and financial opportunities to professional athletes, podcasters, content creators, and major race organizations. It’s no secret that they’re typically the ones calling the shots industry-wide.

My first personal experience with a running brand was in the fall of 2020. I applied to (and received) a small creative fellowship from a running apparel brand and dove headfirst into the world of podcasting. The project start-up funds were less than $5,000, but it also promised exposure, mentorship, and a cohort experience that I felt I couldn’t make up for myself. Those early funds gave me just enough to purchase the equipment (including a laptop) that I needed to start creating content more seriously. I set out to interview Native athletes, specifically, so I could help bring more voices from my own community to an audio storytelling platform. While I was grateful that a brand took my idea seriously enough to offer any funding at all, I knew what entering a partnership often entailed for Indigenous people and I was nervous about the attention (and expectation) that would likely follow.

This anxiety has become routine for me at this point in my life, just a standard burden I carry anytime I’m asked to collaborate with a non-BIPOC owned entity. I’m aware that my photograph, my physical image—that of a larger-bodied, Native, woman of color—is going to excite any marketing team and help any brand garner clicks, high-fives, and applause for “diversity” while remaining hollow in experience for me. Inevitably, in these spaces I will be asked to teach about my identity and culture, like it’s something I owe to others as a public experience, in exchange for money or the opportunity to simply highlight other Native runners, athletes, and coaches. This feeling is a give and take that feels less symbiotic than running, one that leaves me feeling empty, misunderstood, and sometimes traumatized.

I can’t help but reflect on the lack of trust and respect between myself and the brand that laid the foundation of my own creative project. They didn’t share my core values, carry my size in clothing, or offer any meaningful collaboration around Native/Indigenous representation past my singular string of promotional photos. I learned a very difficult lesson in that time: my identity and culture are not for sale.

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I choose brand partnerships differently nowadays, making sure I speak up when I feel discomfort and outline my non-negotiable terms first. I share any valuable information I have with other BIPOC creatives in the space and try to ask myself what value the brand can provide me, an Indigenous woman, rather than the other way around. Brands can be fickle and there is no cookie-cutter solution to establishing sponsorships, partnerships or collaborations. I’m going to do my best to provide a few tips, especially for Indigenous women, in this space:

1. Define Objectives, Goals, and Partnership Expectations: Clearly outline the goals and objectives of the partnership. I felt like this was something I struggled with at the beginning of my podcast career. I didn’t know I could ask to revise contracts or take out things I wasn’t fully comfortable with. Read the details thoroughly and consider seeking a legal advisor to make sure you aren’t agreeing to anything you don’t feel good about. Don’t be afraid to speak up when negotiating. A true partnership shouldn’t feel exploitative, so follow your gut instinct!

2. Establish Consent Around Cultural Knowledge: As an Indigenous woman, my culture is inherent in everything I do. I don’t ever intend to hide it, but we deserve true consent regarding cultural knowledge and representation at every step of a partnership. You should be consulted and have final say on how your culture is represented in all marketing materials.

3. Demand Fair Compensation and Support: Native American women have one of the largest wage gaps in the country, earning approximately 51 cents per dollar paid to the average white man.¹  Understand the value of your skills, expertise, and perspective and again, don’t be afraid to negotiate a higher pay. Make sure you have a good understanding of how your image will be used and how much time (and emotional labor) a project will require.

Of course, I am only one voice and experience and not all creators will have the same journey. I don’t know if we’ll ever find a perfectly reciprocal partnership model in the running space, but in writing this I’m offering a piece of myself, some sense of reciprocal understanding to my fellow Indigenous women and women of color.

Don’t be afraid to demand more from running brands. Our voices and experiences matter. Continue creating, dreaming, and imagining, on your own terms.

¹“Combatting the Wage Gap on Native Women’s Equal Pay Day,” Johnson, Emily McKay. EqualRightsAdvocates.org. November 29, 2022.

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