aying for a college education is an investment. But for many students, the cost of in-state versus out-of-state tuition can determine where they enroll. This is especially true in Alaska, where cost and distance often determine whether out-of-state students can afford to matriculate to the 49th State.

UAS has met this challenge head-on by introducing the Alaska Unlocked initiative to make its campuses throughout Southeast financially accessible to students who aren’t Alaska residents. Beginning with the 2026 fall semester, out-of-state undergraduates will pay in-state tuition—a savings of approximately $14,472 per academic year.

“UAS has wanted to offer in-state tuition for all undergraduate students for some time,” says Vice Chancellor of Enrollment Management and Student Affairs Lori Klein. “It is a risk; it is a revenue loss. But we need to open up pathways to bring in students from other places.”

ver the past decade, I’ve worked with dozens of companies—mostly in Alaska—to scale from $10 million to $50 million and beyond. Several are approaching $100 million.

These aren’t tech startups. They don’t sell software. Most are in construction. Some are in healthcare. Others are in traditional markets. Many have doubled or tripled revenue in three to five years. Several grew their valuations by ten times.

None jumped on bandwagons or fads to do it. AI didn’t drive their growth. They didn’t “rise and grind” their way to financial success (and lose their health or family in the process).

bout half of all business owners are 55 or older, according to the US Census Bureau. As they approach retirement age, a significant financial transition looms on the horizon. However, a well-planned exit strategy can help owners protect, build, and harvest wealth when they transition, ensuring the efficient transfer of business value to their personal legacy.

Sadly, about 80 percent of business owners will not be prepared to make a successful exit from their company, according to Certified Exit Planning Advisor (CEPA) Wendy Claussen. But they can improve their chances by adopting a build-it-with-the-end-in-mind approach. “They should always be thinking about their exit,” says Anchorage-based Claussen, the owner of Horizon Trek. “Exit planning is present tense; it’s not something to do later. It’s a value multiplier.”

ny business that makes it to the forty year mark deserves a hand, and that is especially apropos as Alaska Hand Rehabilitation (AHR) celebrates its fourth decade in business this year. Established in 1985 by licensed occupational therapist and certified hand therapist Linda Glick, what started as a very small, one-person clinic in Anchorage grew to become a much-beloved employee-owned practice that recently moved into a new, larger location designed to serve more patients in the community.

oughly 850 miles separate Utqiaġvik, at the northernmost tip of the North American continent, from Old Harbor, a village south of Kodiak. In Lower 48 terms, that’s as far as Minneapolis, Minnesota, from Dallas, Texas—farther, even, because no year-round roads connect to Utqiaġvik, and Old Harbor is, of course, on an island. But that separation can’t prevent each community’s village corporations from working together.

Ukpeaġvik Inupiat Corporation (UIC) subsidiary UIC Nappairit completed work in March on the Nuniaq Community Center and Tsunami Shelter, fulfilling a long-held vision in Old Harbor for a gathering place during times of celebration and times of danger.

Known as “the people who build,” UIC Nappairit specializes in remote projects involving dynamic challenges of extreme climates, complicated logistics, and minimal resources. The Nuniaq Center fit the bill perfectly.

he Aleutian Islands have a rugged landscape. There are no trees, no roads, no large game animals, and not many resources.

“It’s barren, it has harsh weather,” describes Skoey Vergen, president and CEO of Aleut, the Alaska Native corporation (ANC) for the region west of Port Moller on the Alaska Peninsula, all the way to Attu Island. For thousands of years, he adds, the Unangax̂ people of the Aleutians lived out of scarcity; all energy and effort was put into survival.

“That mindset still persists. And when I got here, that mindset of scarcity included how we invested in and supported our subsidiaries,” Vergen says.

hen the Alaska Native Claims Settlement Act (ANCSA) established the scaffolding for regional and village corporations, it was with the intent that those corporations support the roughly 74,000 Alaska Native shareholders enrolled by 1973.

ANCSA set out guidelines about who could be shareholders: blood quantum requirements and a cut-off date for eligibility. Shareholders had to be born on or before 11:59 p.m. December 18, 1971—the day ANCSA was signed into law—to be eligible to hold shares.

The legislation left it up to corporations to figure out how to connect with shareholders, how to give them a voice in governing the new corporations, or what shareholder benefits should look like. Nearly 200 village and regional corporations operating today have developed a range of approaches to communication, often led by shifting demographics and evolving needs of their shareholder base.

epresenting peoples and cultures that long predate the Alaska Native Claims Settlement Act of 1971 (ANCSA) under which they were established, the twelve regional corporations are fundamentally unique in terms of environmental challenges, corporate purposes, and structures.

The twelve regional Alaska Native corporations (ANCs) are Ahtna; Aleut; Arctic Slope Regional Corporation; Doyon, Limited; NANA; Koniag; Sealaska; Bering Straits Native Corporation; Calista Corporation; Cook Inlet Region, Inc. (CIRI); Bristol Bay Native Corporation (BBNC); and Chugach Alaska Corporation.

The passage of ANCSA ushered in a new era for Alaska Native people, sorting them into commercial enterprises quite different from Indigenous societies. They would ascend to profitability through individual grit and cooperative aid.

nown as Alaska’s Emerald Isle, Kodiak—the state’s largest island—brings together great beauty, diverse wildlife, and the challenges of a remote archipelago with a significant military history.

Under the Alaska Native Claims Settlement Act of 1971 (ANCSA), Congress established both a regional corporation and several village or urban corporations for the Kodiak archipelago. These latter entities include Afognak Native Corporation, Akhiok-Kaguyak, Inc., Leisnoi, Natives of Kodiak (NOK), Old Harbor Native Corporation (OHNC), and Ouzinkie Native Corporation.

“One of the things that makes the Kodiak region very unique and a joy to work in is that the Native organizations across our region work in unity,” says Shauna Hegna, president of Koniag regional corporation. “We are constantly collaborating with the village corporations, the nonprofits, the tribal health organizations, and our tribes to improve the quality of life in our communities.”

laska Native corporations (ANCs) build stronger communities by creating jobs, investing in education and culture, and promoting sustainable growth. Their profits support dividends, scholarships, and local programs, helping preserve Alaska Native heritage for future generations. In this round-up, some of the twelve regional ANCs share recent news, projects, and the ongoing benefits for their communities.

fter seven decades as Alaska’s oldest and largest family-owned car rental company, Avis Alaska has made a decision that speaks volumes about its commitment to the Last Frontier. The company is now 100 percent employee owned through an employee stock ownership plan (ESOP).

It’s a move Andrew Halcro, the former co-owner who quarterbacked the transition alongside his two older sisters, describes as the perfect solution to a complex puzzle. “We had to meet the expectations of three different generations,” he explains. “How do you get the first and second generations their maximum value and provide the runway for the third generation to get their maximum value? That’s the math problem you have to solve.”

Taking the generations out of the equation puts the company to work for a different set of stakeholders.

asey “Maverick” Kubitz understands how difficult it is to get around area code 907. As a youth, Kubitz played hockey in Anchorage, which means a lot of road games in remote areas. Growing up, he learned about the difficulties of keeping Alaska’s supply chain secure and unimpeded.

The situation grew worse during the COVID-19 pandemic. “I saw firsthand the challenges of moving goods in and out of Alaska,” says Kubitz. “Local businesses, the people that keep our communities alive, were constantly squeezed by high costs, delays, and outside control of our supply lines.”

Kubitz decided to find a solution that would benefit Alaska. Launched in February 2020, 907 Logistics provides full truckload, less-than-truckload, refrigerated, flatbed, and heavy-haul freight. It also manages barge and port coordination to transport items into Alaska, and it offers government and military freight management through its parent company, Maverick Logistical Consulting.

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