Preservance: Bringing Tlingit Spruce Root Patterns Into New Spaces
/This August, I'm excited to share a project that has been quietly taking shape for some time.
Coming from a lineage of Tlingit spruce root weavers, I've often found myself asking a simple question:
Where else can these patterns live?
For generations, spruce root baskets were part of everyday life. They carried food, gathered berries, stored belongings, and reflected the landscapes and stories of the people who made them. Today, while the baskets remain treasured works of art, the tradition itself is becoming increasingly rare.
My mother is one of the few people still teaching the art of gathering, preparing, and weaving spruce roots to the next generation. Watching her dedication inspired me to think differently—not about changing the tradition, but about finding new ways for these patterns to continue living in our daily lives.
That question became the beginning of Preservance. For me, the name represents two ideas that cannot be separated: the perseverance it takes to keep cultural traditions alive, and the preservation of the knowledge, stories, and memories they carry.
“The waves. The sandy shoreline. Ferns beneath the forest canopy. Spruce trees reaching into the sky. Wild strawberry patches.
These woven patterns are more than decoration—they are visual memories of home.”
Studying the Stories Within the Patterns
Creating this collection began with studying historical spruce root basket patterns of Yakutat, Alaska, from many preserved in museum collections and archival books.
There are countless traditional designs, each carrying its own story. The patterns I chose are deeply personal because they remind me of the place where I grew up.
As a child, I explored Yakutat's beaches, played in the surf, wandered beneath towering spruce trees, and picked wild strawberries with my siblings and cousins in the old-growth rainforest.
Those memories became the foundation of this collection.
The waves. The sandy shoreline. Ferns beneath the forest canopy. Spruce trees reaching into the sky. Wild strawberry patches.
These woven patterns are more than decoration—they are visual memories of home.
Many people don't realize that traditional Tlingit basket patterns often tell stories about the land itself. They reflect the places that shaped the people who wove them and continue to carry those memories across generations.
An Endangered Art
Spruce root basketry is considered an endangered art throughout Southeast Alaska.
Learning the craft requires far more than simply weaving. A weaver must know how to find suitable spruce roots, harvest them responsibly, burn them correctly, remove the bark, split each root into weaving strands, and prepare every material by hand before the weaving even begins.
Each step is knowledge passed from one generation to the next.
Today, one of the greatest challenges is access—not only to quality spruce roots, but to master weavers willing and able to teach.
Like many Indigenous art forms, spruce root basketry also suffered through generations of cultural suppression. When Indigenous children were taken from their families and placed in boarding schools and institutions, they were often prevented from speaking their languages or practicing their traditions. Knowledge that had once been shared naturally between generations was interrupted, leaving many communities working to reclaim what was nearly lost.
I began wondering whether these patterns could once again become part of everyday life. Rather than remaining something we admire occasionally, what if they could become something we live with?
My work in metal jewelry has always been guided by a sense of strength, permanence, and endurance. Preservance: The Living Pattern extends that artistic language into a new medium, exploring how ancestral Tlingit pattern designs can continue to evolve while remaining connected to their origins.
Metal is valued for its ability to endure across generations. In the same way, American Dakota’s rugs are created with longevity in mind—objects designed to be lived with, cared for, and passed down.
Rather than remaining something we admire occasionally, I wanted these patterns to become part of the spaces we gather in, the stories we share, and the memories we create.
This collection creates a bridge between ancestral pattern language and contemporary life. As these designs enter new homes, they continue gathering meaning—becoming part of new stories, new traditions, and future generations.Years ago, woven baskets and drinking cups were everyday objects.
Today, those practical purposes have largely disappeared, replaced by modern materials like plastic and metal. Many historic baskets now live behind museum glass or on display shelves.
I began wondering whether these patterns could once again become part of everyday life. Rather than remaining something we admire occasionally, what if they could become something we live with?
This collaboration with American Dakota offered that opportunity. Together, we've translated traditional spruce root basket patterns into heirloom-quality rugs that honour their origins while finding a place within contemporary homes.
For me, this isn't about replacing basketry. Nothing can replace the beauty or significance of handwoven spruce root baskets. It's about allowing these designs—and the stories they carry—to continue reaching new audiences and becoming part of everyday life once again.
Story Teller weaves together traditional Tlingit spruce root basket patterns that reflect the landscape of Jennifer Younger’s childhood in Yakutat, Alaska.
Featuring the Strawberry Weave, Waves, Bear Tracks, and Sand Hills patterns, the design honors family walks along Yakutat’s beaches, where towering spruce trees meet the shoreline and patches of wild strawberries flourish beneath the forest canopy.
Bears have long shared these lands, their tracks serving as reminders of the deep connection between people, place, and wildlife. Each pattern tells part of that story, preserving memories of the landscape while celebrating the enduring artistry and language of Tlingit basket weaving.
The Value of Collaboration
If you know me, you know I love collaboration.
Art grows stronger when people work together, sharing ideas, knowledge, and creativity. This project reflects that belief.
Authentic collaboration means more than creating something "Native-inspired." It means working directly with Indigenous artists, respecting the cultural origins of the designs, and ensuring the stories remain connected to the people they come from.
That respect is what makes collaborations like this meaningful.
Appreciation Through Understanding
People often ask about the difference between appreciation and appropriation.
I understand why many people hesitate when purchasing Indigenous artwork—they want to be respectful.
My hope is that people know there's a meaningful difference between copying Indigenous designs and supporting Indigenous artists.
When you choose work created by Native artists, you're supporting living cultures, contemporary creators, and traditions that continue to evolve. Indigenous artists don't sell cultural items that shouldn't be shared. Purchasing authentic Indigenous artwork from Indigenous makers is a way of appreciating both the art and the people behind it.
Carrying the Pattern Forward
Preservance is about more than rugs.
It is about finding new ways for ancient patterns to continue telling their stories–The Living Patterns.
It is about honouring the generations who preserved this knowledge despite tremendous hardship.
Most of all, it is about ensuring these designs remain living expressions of Tlingit culture—not only in museums or books, but in the homes and lives of people who value the stories they carry.
Every pattern begins with a place.
My hope is that, through this collection, those memories will be known for generations to come—along with those of your own.
The quiet moments of everyday life. Children growing up. A dog curled up on the rug. Morning coffee by the fire or evenings spent together after a long day. Or even making an office space feel like home.
Like the spruce root baskets that inspired them, these rugs are meant to be lived with. To age gracefully. To witness the moments that become family stories.
My hope is that they grow old with you, carrying both the memories they inherit and the memories you create.
JENNIFER YOUNGER 2026
