When it comes to Indigenous representation, Ashley Callingbull is a force to be reckoned with.
Ashley Callingbull is more than just a pretty face. Hailing from Enoch Cree Nation in Alberta, Canada, the 34-year-old is a survivor, model, actress, activist, pageant queen, motivational speaker, in-game host, brand ambassador, soon-to-be published author, dedicated wife, dog lover, and inspiration to Native women and girls everywhere. She has amassed an impressive list of firsts, including being the first Indigenous woman to hold a Miss Canada title, to win Mrs. Universe, and to be featured in the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue.
Sure, Callingbull is certainly proud of these achievements, but her motivation isn’t racking up accolades. Rather, it’s showing Native youth that they can overcome any odds and pursue their dreams — just like she did.
“I didn’t let living through childhood trauma, poverty, and sexual abuse define me,” she says. “When you’re going through that, you feel like you can’t dare to dream. But when my mom and I eventually made our escape, I had to decide: Do I let my life spiral downward or do I take this second chance and prove to myself that my life is valuable, that I’m worth something?”
Growing up, Callingbull experienced sexual, physical, and emotional abuse by her mom’s then boyfriend for six years. To make ends meet, she and her mom, who was also battling cancer at the time, collected bottles and exchanged them for money at the recycling depot. They broke free one day when their abuser was away, packing up their belongings and fleeing to Enoch to seek refuge with Callingbull’s grandparents.
Being submerged in her Cree culture helped her heal. “My kokum (grandmother) was a medicine woman, and my mossum (grandfather) was a medicine man, and they saved my life,” she shares. “They were both residential school survivors, which made it easier to talk about what happened because they had been through it, too. My kokum explained that everyone can be a healer in their own way and that helping others heal is how she pieced her heart back together.”
Callingbull did sweat lodge ceremonies with her mossum. She prayed. She cried. She gave herself pep talks in the mirror, reciting these words time and again: “Love and live fearlessly, Ashley.”
“It sounds cheesy, but it has a deeper meaning —to love yourself the way you are because Creator made you this way and to not let fear stop you from chasing your dreams,” she says, adding that she returns to that mantra during tough times. “When my abuser told me over and over again that I was worthless, I believed it. But eventually I realized that the only opinion that truly matters is mine, and I decided to create a better life for myself.”
Instead of turning to drugs, alcohol, and other vices while processing her trauma, she turned to her culture. “After what happened, I felt like I didn’t want to live anymore,” Callingbull reveals. “Sadly, what I went through is a very common story in Indian Country, but it’s all about how you grow from it. My kokum told me it was important to stay on the red road, meaning to stay away from drugs and alcohol. I had a lot of relatives who took the other route, and they weren’t around for long. I just didn’t want to be that stereotype.”
It’s safe to say she has defied expectations of what she might become. After starting over as a preteen, Callingbull pushed herself in school, skipping two grades and graduating at age 16. Her ailing kokum dismissed doctor’s orders and snuck into her graduation ceremony to watch Callingbull perform her mossum’s round dance song. Before passing away days later, she imparted this wisdom upon her granddaughter: Always dream big and show the world what you’re made of.
All the while, Callingbull spent her free time volunteering at the children’s hospital where her infant sister, Ambee, passed away from a chromosomal disorder. She realized charitable work was her way of helping others heal and was hooked. That philanthropy continued into her college years at Northern Alberta Institute of Technology, where she earned a film and television degree that she then put to use on the APTN show Blackstone and as an Amazing Race Canada contestant. Looking to do even more good, she became curious about pageantry.
“Before I got involved with pageantry, I had assumptions about beauty queens — I thought they just waved and smiled,” she admits. “But I didn’t want to be the stereotypical beauty queen. I wanted to change the narrative and use my voice to get people to listen to what I have to say.”
Although Callingbull has earned crowns aplenty, it hasn’t always been easy. She has faced racism and other pushback along the way. Before her first pageant in 2010, for instance, a Canadian newspaper highlighted that she was the only First Nations competitor and joked that her talent would be “drinking Lysol or signing welfare checks with my toes,” as she recalls. Then when she became Mrs. Universe in 2015, Callingbull was criticized for being too political, to which she retorted: “Did you really think I was going to just sit there and look pretty?”
“So many times in my life, people have told me I didn’t belong in a space because I’m Native,” she says. “I had to tell myself that I belong wherever I want to belong.” As it turns out, she belongs everywhere — from powwows to fundraisers to movie theater screens to Fashion Week runways to National Hockey League, Canadian Football League, and National Lacrosse League games. Professional sports is yet another arena where she is breaking down barriers.
“I never would have imagined myself even being in those spaces, because when I was a little girl, I was so insecure and never wanted to speak out loud,” she shares. “Now, I’m in stadiums getting everyone screaming. The sports world is pretty hard for women to get into period, let alone an Indigenous woman. I hope this opens up the doors for more Native women to join in, because taking up space is pretty damn awesome.”
These days, she has far fewer naysayers and instead countless cheerleaders, including her mom; her husband, Blackfoot retired professional hockey player and Western Hockey League coach Wacey Rabbit; and her millions of social media followers. (Sadly, her mossum passed away earlier this year.) She uses her platform to bring attention to important issues affecting Indigenous communities, particularly at-risk women and children.
“When I meet with these women and kids, they feel seen and heard,” Callingbull says. “I didn’t feel that when I was younger; I felt like I had the weight of the world on me. But when you don’t feel alone, you start to feel more capable. When I’m doing this work, I’m opening people’s eyes to who they can become. It’s not just about giving them inspiration — it’s about giving them a second chance at life.”
Beyond her extensive philanthropic efforts, Callingbull has plenty on her plate professionally. This spring, she starred in her first feature film, The Great Salish Heist, a comedy about rez misfits on a mission to reclaim sacred tribal artifacts. She makes her author debut later this year with a HarperCollins memoir detailing her triumph over adversity. And she returns to the pageant stage in July to compete in Miss Universe Canada (if she wins, she’ll once again make history as the first Indigenous woman to do so).
Her ambitions don’t stop there. She wants to eventually create a foundation for women and children escaping domestic violence like she and her mom once did, including developing a shelter and secondary housing. As for a dream acting role? She’d love to portray renowned Osage dancer Maria Tallchief, the first Indigenous prima ballerina. (With more than 15 years of dance training under her belt, Callingbull would be a no-brainer casting for the part.) “Because of her, I’m a Native ballerina,” she says. “I’m all about sharing stories of women paving the way.”
Of course, Callingbull is no stranger to trailblazing, and chances are she’ll be the subject of an inspiring film of her own one day. But even with all her extraordinary achievements and exciting developments, she hasn’t lost sight of who she is.
“I’m still the same little girl from the rez on the inside,” she affirms. “My culture keeps me grounded, humble, and thankful. My mossum didn’t talk much about it, but he was really proud of keeping his language. The first time he spoke his language at the residential school, they threw boiling water all over him. Seeing his scars lit a fire in me and reminded me that nothing can take our culture away.”
Callingbull also understands her role in breaking the cycle of intergenerational trauma and passing something else down to future generations of Indigenous women. “When you break glass ceilings, you’re opening the door for a younger version of yourself to come through,” she concludes. “Regardless of what I achieve, I’m always thinking about the ripple effect. My proudest accomplishment is being a role model to my sisters out there and creating a positive legacy to leave behind.”
Just as her kokum urged years ago, Callingbull is indeed showing the world what she’s made of.
From our May/June 2024 issue.
Callingbull wears clothing from the Sky Eagle Collection (skyeaglecollection.com); red earrings from Stephanie Peltier (@deliaestelledesigns) and pink earrings from Katelyn Ward (@beadworkbykatelynward); a George Strait Collection hat; and Ariat boots.
PHOTOGRAPHY: Erin Crooks
