How to Be a Respectful Visitor to Native Lands

I'm driving west across the Navajo Nation, marveling at the beauty of the rising sun's glow drenching the surrounding mesas, mountains, and other natural wonders in daylight.

At first glance, this vast open space reminds me of the Red River Valley of northwestern Minnesota where I grew up. As a child, I would gaze out upon the fertile prairie lands that seemingly stretched out in every direction as far as the eye could see. And yet, this place is so very different from those Ojibwe ancestral homelands.

The Navajo Nation is the largest Indian reservation in the United States, spanning some 27,000 square miles across Arizona, Utah, and New Mexico. Even so, it represents just a portion of Dinétah (meaning "land of the people"), the traditional ancestral homelands of the Navajo, or Diné. More than simply geography, this is a sacred place where this tribe's culture is actively being preserved for future generations.

It's also a sovereign nation within the greater United States. This means it's a self-governing entity with its own established laws. There are no giant billboards announcing when you've entered the Navajo Nation but rather blink-and-you-miss-them road signs, meaning it's entirely possible to stumble onto these tribal lands unknowingly.

Throughout my trip to Dinétah, I'm keenly aware of the fact that I'm here as a visitor. Sure, I have been invited to this tribal nation by friends who call this place home, and I'm an Alaska Native (Tlingit) journalist who has extensively covered the Native American community.

Even so, I don't assume that I have special access to ceremonies or sacred sites beyond what's readily available to the typical traveler. I understand that I'm a guest, and I'm taking my cues from my hosts as to their expectations for my visit.

I'm honored simply to be here.

It's an unfortunate reality that many travelers are often unaware they're on Indigenous homelands. Of course, that's not entirely surprising, given our nation's colonialism that attempted to erase the history of the first peoples of this place.

In lieu of proper education about Native American cultures, many of us gleaned our understanding of Indig­enous groups from movies, TV shows, and other media. Those depictions were, at best, misappropriations and misrepresentations; at worst, they were perpetuations of prejudiced stereotypes. In short, many people are misinformed about modern Native life.

What's more, a long-held misconception that Indigenous cultures are a monolith persists. Quite the contrary: There are 575 federally recognized tribes in the United States and more than 630 First Nations communities in Canada. In other words, there's no single travel guide for all of Native America; that'd be akin to having one pocket handbook covering the entirety of Asia.

Thankfully, though, there are common-sense guidelines for how to respectfully visit tribal lands.

"Once you open your mind
and open yourself up
to learning from
different people,
it changes the way that
you see the world."

Showing Respect

Learning about whose land you're visiting, from a historic and a con­temporary context, comes first. Much like a trip to a foreign country, an excursion to tribal nations and significant sites ideally starts with some research.

Native peoples experienced major displacement and dispossession due to colonialism, so it isn't always obvious which communities have ties to what places. Doing your pretrip due diligence is not only a great way to learn about our Indigenous cultures but also an important step in honoring and helping preserve them.

For more insight about this, I turned to Sherry L. Rupert (Paiute/Washoe), who is the CEO of the American Indigenous Tourism Association.

"Anywhere I go, I try to learn more about the culture and the people from that particular place," she says. "As visitors, we don't know every protocol. For example, when I went to New Zealand, I didn't know all of the protocols there, but I was open to learning. Once you open your mind and open yourself up to learning from different people, it changes the way that you see the world."

Those transformative experiences are a happy byproduct of the research and preparation we can all embrace when venturing beyond our home turf. This kind of conscientious consideration is especially crucial when visiting places like Mexico, where Indigenous communities account for nearly 20 percent of the population. These communities are often overshadowed by profit-driven tourism operations that promise "authentic" excursions and mementos that are typically rooted in tired tropes.

On top of that, Mexico is experiencing a major influx of U.S. travelers and expats, whose presence affects the very cultures that draw visitors. That influence is especially evident in places like Oaxaca, which has ­become a trending travel destination in recent years.

When I visited Oaxaca in 2024, I was seduced by its bustling food scene, rich arts community, and thriving Indigenous cultures. I was fortunate enough to travel alongside an Indigenous Mexican friend, so I was able to live like a local for a week. I sought counsel from him anytime I was in doubt about how to conduct myself in a respectful fashion - when I might be welcomed to participate in a ritual, where it was (and wasn't) appropriate to take photos, how best to thank someone for their gracious hospitality .

For those without a trusted local tie to tap, there are guides like Betsaida López Díaz (Zapotec) of Me Encanta Oaxaca Experiences. Born and raised in Oaxaca, she has dedicated herself to helping tourists experience the Indigenous sides of the city - but without the typical extractive tendencies and harmful commercialism .

"We're happy to welcome tourists to Mexico because, especially in Oaxaca, that's how we support our families," she says. "But we're also experiencing gentrification here. It's sad to see tourists trying to change our community rather than respecting our cultures."

It also troubles López Díaz to witness cultural appropriation supersede cultural appreciation, an all-too-common phenomenon. Specifically, she's referring to copies of the intricate Oaxacan embroidery designs that adorn many textiles, from dresses to rugs. This important Zapotec practice reflects a time-honored cultural tradition and requires hours of painstaking work.

"We invite people into our homes to see our design process and ­appreciate it," she says. "But when they return to their country, they start making our designs and selling them at more expensive prices. It's really awful when that happens, because we open our doors to show what we do, and we give everything with our hearts." (See " How Can I Best Support the Local Economy When Traveling?" for more.)

Buying knockoff wares is equally harmful to local communities. But because tourist trinkets are often presented with unclear Indigenous connections, even savvy travelers can be deceived.

So how do you know if you're truly supporting Native artisans and entrepreneurs with your travel dollars? Authentication initiatives like the Original Original certification from the Indigenous Tourism Association of Canada and the Alaska State Council on the Arts' Silver Hand program help consumers identify the real deal. (See " How Can I Best Support the Local Economy When Traveling?" for more.)

"The Indigenous worldview
has always centered
around sustainability.
That's who we are,
and that's how we live."

A Circle of Reciprocity

Of all my travels to tribal lands across this continent, perhaps no place embodies Indigenous resilience better than Iqaluit, Nunavut. Located just shy of the Arctic Circle, Canada's northernmost city is the capital of the country's first Indigenous self-­governing territory. Established in 1999 in response to major Inuit political activism, Nunavut is a shining example of Canada's efforts toward reconciliation with its first peoples.

In Iqaluit, it's impossible to overlook the Indigenous representation. The town's street and building signs are in the Inuktitut language first, English second.

Inuit culture is alive and well here, in part out of necessity. Centuries-old practices like subsistence hunting and fishing ensure families are nourished to this day. These ancestral traditions are juxtaposed with contemporary conveniences: shops, restaurants, art galleries, a movie theater, and more.

But the real attraction in Iqaluit? The vast, open stillness that surrounds it, and a palpable connection to place.

"The Indigenous worldview has always centered around sustainability," says Tamara Littlelight (Keeseekoose First Nation), director of marketing for the Indigenous Tourism Association of Canada. "That's who we are, and that's how we live. We have always respected the land and given back to the land. Our communities lead with their knowledge, and travel is such a great way to get to know us. Tourism breaks down barriers. It allows for our important stories to be heard and our beautiful cultural teachings to be shared with the world."

Throughout my travels to Indigenous lands, I've come to learn that ­intentional tourism isn't just about what we receive; it's also about what we give, in a beautiful circle of reciprocity.

Littlelight agrees. " Tourism creates a space for Indigenous people and a path toward healing," she says. "I come from a lineage of residential school survivors on both sides of my family. For me to be able to thrive in a space that allows me to just be myself - to be Indigenous - is so healing. It's not just about cultural appreciation; it's about cultural revitalization."

Back in the Navajo Nation, I thank my friends for showing me such caring hospitality and for welcoming me into their world. As I make the drive back east, I realize I'm a changed person because of this special sojourn.

I also understand that my greatest impact on this place is having no ^­apparent impact on it at all.

This article originally appeared as "On Native Soil" in the July/August 2026 issue of Experience Life. Image information: Lead - The Mittens and Merrick Buttes in Tse'Bii'Ndzisgaii (Monument Valley) Navajo Tribal Park in the Navajo Nation. Ruins - The ancient Zapotec capital of Monte Albán in Oaxaca, Mexico. Shoreline - Iqaluit, situated on Qikiqtaaluk (Baffin Island), Nunavut, Canada.