October 27, 2010

Resilience

Written by: Katie Cueva, CITC Science Teacher/PE Teacher, West High School

As I danced, her laughter echoed throughout the room. An occasional guest instructor in the Community Health Aide trainings, I teach, listen, and learn from the amazing people who provide health in their Alaskan communities. In this particular class, I met a woman with a deep belly laugh that often rang out during our learning activities.

However, when she shared stories of the domestic violence she had been through, I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I saw the scars on her arm where a partner had attacked her with a hatchet, and I felt my stomach turn. How could this woman have been subjected to something that I find unfathomable, yet continue to laugh? I am in awe of her capacity for kindness and the power of resilience.

This is a story about resilience as I experienced it in Anchorage, Alaska.

October 26, 2010

Resilience

Written by: Ellen Kennedy, CITC Language Arts Teacher, Bartlett High School

I’m always looking for new, interesting books to challenge my students, so when I saw a new book by Sherman Alexie, I bought it right away. What a charming, poignant and humorous read! Reviewers in major newspapers and magazines sang its praises, and I began to see the possibility of using it in Language Arts 9, since Alexie was the same age in the text. Since the school year was about complete, I decided to use it with summer school students—the original curriculum had not worked for them so this new story might.

I handed out the books, we looked at the book jacket and read the kind words on the back; we read the blurb about Alexie on the back flap. Kids wanted to know if he was the writer responsible for “Smoke Signals,” now a cult favorite among young Indian/Native students. Yes, he is, I answered.

We began reading aloud—to get the kids interested. Wow! It is funny and heartbreaking, and surprising all at the same time. The students in my class LOVED it! Because the story is so engaging, they read on to see what was going to happen. They stuck with it; they found success; they passed—not just because of that story, but because they came, worked, and saw success.

Alexie shows resilience in his story. He might be isolated, alienated, alone, but he is loved at home, he triumphs over adversity by sticking with it. Our students learn these things while they read the book. Many of them come to believe that if they stick with it, they too, can be successful.

I hope all our students will be resilient in Anchorage in the Twenty-first Century.

October 25, 2010

Resilience

The Two Wolves: A Cherokee Legend

Written by: Tara Chamberlain, CITC Language Arts Teacher, Romig Middle School

An old Cherokee was teaching his grandchildren about life. He said, “A battle is raging inside me…it is a terrible fight between two wolves. One wolf represents fear, anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority and ego. The other stands for joy, peace, love, hope, sharing, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, friendship, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion and faith.”

The old man looked at the children with a firm stare. “This same fight is going on inside you, and inside every other person, too.” They thought about it for a minute, and then one child asked his grandfather, “Which wolf will win?” The old Cherokee replied, “The one you feed.”

Resilience means feeding the wolf that stands for joy, peace, love, hope, sharing, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, friendship, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion and faith. Resilience is not something we are born with; it is something that we continue to learn and master as we go through the journey that is life. As a teacher, I am presented with many opportunities to teach our students the skills they need to become resilient people. Recently I had the opportunity to read how my students viewed themselves as resilient people.

I was touched by their honesty and self-awareness; many of them shared personal reflections on difficult experiences they have had to overcome. I feel blessed and honored to be able to work with such resilient and reflective young adults.

October 22, 2010

(Editor’s note: A special thanks goes out to Ms. Ruth Tong for submitting two very well written, passionate and powerful stories around the value of Interdependence. Thank you for your contributions to our writing project!!!)

Interdependence, Part II

Written by: Ruth Tong, Intake Specialist, Child and Family Services

My father, Gabriel Okitkon of Koyuk, was a wonderful provider, a great hunter and fisherman. He was a very gentle, quiet person married to my outgoing mother. They were a great pair, and wonderful parents.

I always knew Dad provided for myself and six brothers and sisters, and also another family in Koyuk, a divorced mother and her four children. They’d come with us to our fish and berry camp down the coast from Koyuk every summer. What I didn’t know until much later was that he helped raise his four nephews and one niece after his brother and sister-in-law died of the epidemics that hit the coastal villages in mid-20th century.

In addition, my sister, Lois, who moved to the town of Unalakleet in the early 1980s, told me about one of our older cousins from Unalakleet, Laura. Laura would give Lois and her family Native food regularly – berries, dried fish, seal oil, greens, etc. Lois was very appreciative, but after a while, she told Laura she was getting embarrassed for taking so much. Laura told Lois, “I’m just trying to repay your father.”

Laura explained that both her parents died of illness when Laura was about 16, in the 1940s. She had four or five younger brothers and sisters. My father would trap various animals outside Koyuk and take the furs to the Unalakleet trading post. From the proceeds, he’d buy 50-pound bags of flour and sugar and cases of evaporated milk for Laura and her family. Laura said our father enabled her to keep her brothers and sisters with her, and Laura raised them.

Another of my older cousins, also named Laura, told me that my father was a “crack shot,” able to shoot a target with great accuracy. She said that he was one of the first hunters to kill a moose when moose first started appearing in the Seward Peninsula area. Dad was on a bluff near Koyuk when there was ice in the bay, and he shot a moose in the ear from 100 yards with a .22; it fell over, dead. I told my son, Kenneth, he got his shooting ability from my father. Kenny was on the University of Nevada Reno rifle team his first two years of college, on a rifle team scholarship. He used to enter adult rifle matches in the state of Hawaii starting at age 15, and win them against Marine and Army snipers. The snipers would ask me, how old is your son? When I’d say 15, they’d stalk off in disgust at having lost to a teenager.

An elder from Unalakleet, Gilbert, told me a few months ago that Dad was a fast runner too. When Gilbert was a boy, he and some other children were watching Dad approach by dog team from Koyuk. Dad’s sled got caught on a chunk of ice, so dad got off his sled to free it. The dogs bolted off, Dad ran after them, and caught the team. Gilbert said he never saw anyone run so fast. He exclaimed, “This was in the 1930s. We never heard of the Olympics in our part of the country. He could have beaten Jesse Owens!”

So, you can see the attributes that made my father a great hunter, provider, and how he was able to care for a great many others besides his immediate family. I think he was the epitome of the Native value of sharing and interdependence.

October 21, 2010

Interdependence

The Messenger Feast

Written by: Chris Meier, Director, CITC Educational Services System

Spring festivals are still an important part of life in the Yukon-Kuskokwim Delta. The festivals are a way for villagers to share their resources and the goodness of life. Here is my memory of one of the first I attended in 1993 in Newtok, Alaska.

The temperature had not been above zero for more than a month, and as I walked to the community house, I looked in amazement at two large seals frozen solid and flat on one side where they had been laid after the hunt. One of the seals had been turned over on its round belly and the whole top side was flat and looked like a crew cut running the length of its long body.

About two full cords of frozen lush fish had been stacked like wood into wooden sleds. These sleds resembled Santa Sleighs with their nicely curved sides, only narrower, longer, and generally more rugged then a sled that Santa would use. Seals and lush fish are abundant near this traditional village, and the people there are known to be experts at gathering all that the tundra and the vast waters of their area have to offer. This harvest was only part of what was to be given away at the upcoming festival.

It was at the end of the festival, after the dancing, feasting, and general communion, that I watched as many items where distributed to the visitors from other villages. With a sequence and purposefulness that I did not understand waves of items where given away. Socks and gloves, soap and wash cloths, buckets and mops, furs, a gun, boots and coats both handmade and store bought, and the seals and lush fish outside were all systematically handed out.

An elder told me that this was the modern version of the messenger feast. In the old days they would send a messenger with a good memory to the villages that they would want to invite to their festival. The messenger would bring back requests from the invited groups as to what they needed, and what they hoped the hosts might be able to provide. In this way an item that was abundant in one area could be shared with a group of people where that item was scarce. The giving was reciprocated in future feasts. It seems that community interdependence was and still is an important part of the society.

October 20, 2010

Interdependence

Written by: Ruth Tong, Intake Specialist, Child and Family Services

Interdependence is a way of life in a village. Most of us are probably aware of how a whaling crew hunts a huge humpback whale and the whole village helps take it to shore, butchers it, and shares with the whole village, thus aiding in the village’s survival.

In my small, northwest Alaska village of Koyuk, we get belugas, usually, the smaller whale. Those are shared with elders and other village members. When I was in Koyuk in 1996 for my mother’s funeral, my sister, Lois, and I were getting ready to catch the plane in late morning to return to Anchorage and Hawaii, where I lived. My cousin, Roy “Peachie” Otton, had just gotten a beluga and was cutting it up on the beach. He gave a chunk of muktuk to Lois. She took it to my brothers’ house and cut it up in very small pieces so it would cook fast. We quickly relished it – my first time eating muktuk for years – then we went up the hill to catch our plane.

After my oldest brother, Billy, passed away in 2005, I learned some things I had not heard while he was living. He used to give money for gas to the children of a man, Sanky Charles, who had lost his wife to an accident, whenever they would go caribou or seal hunting, or berry picking. Billy was always able to get seasonal work in the village, and probably unemployment benefits as well. The Charles children would share the meat or berries with Billy and my brother’s family.

My sister, Lois, was eleven years old and I was five when we left Koyuk to move to Nome. She remembers a lot more than I do about village life. She told me about a woman named Nellie Cook who had come from the states to mine gold near Koyuk. Mrs. Cook lived alone out in the country near our berry and fish camp. As she aged, her arthritis got so bad that she couldn’t pick berries anymore, and she rigged up a stick to her comb so she could groom her hair. There were seven of us kids in my family, so in summer we’d all pick berries for Mrs. Cook. In turn, she’d make up a big batch of doughnuts for us, and let us eat as many as we wanted. That was a real treat! I can imagine my dad and brothers would also help her by chopping wood and hauling water, and very likely fixing any small mechanical item she might have.

Mrs. Cook also taught my mother and some of my aunts how to cook some “western” foods. My mother learned very well, because she was an excellent cook! She may have gotten our sourdough starter from Mrs. Cook, the one she used all through my childhood. After all of us children grew up and finished school in Nome, my parents moved back to Koyuk. Two of my cousins, pilots in Nome, would visit my mother in Koyuk early in the morning about once a month to have her sourdough pancakes and good ole Hills Brothers coffee, the village favorite.

From these few instances, one can see how interdependence is a way of life in Alaska’s villages and even more remote areas.

October 19, 2010

Interdependence

Written by: Clarice Uttke, MEDIAK Magazine Layout Designer, Education Resource Center

I started out at MEDIAK as a participant. Not knowing the ins and outs of things, I depended on the staff to teach me. I am now able to use my skills I learned to gain employment and venture out for new opportunities. Interdependence can be applied to almost anything. The skills I learned from MEDIAK and their staff is now being applied to my new life.

There’s this saying it takes a village to raise a child. After thinking about this, it proves true in every aspect. Interdependence is closely related with raising kids. Who you choose your kids to be surrounded with and what they watch, results in how they’ll act when they’re older. I depend on many friends and family to watch my son so I don’t have to pay for child care. I also trust them to use their best judgment in what they expose to my child.

I’ve never been to a village or any part of rural Alaska but I can only imagine how it would work. Alaska Natives depend on nature to continue blessing them with food to eat. The same way I depend on friends and family to watch my son.

This is how I experienced the value of interdependence being a new mom and reaching my full potential in 2010.

October 18, 2010

Interdependence

Written by: Juliana Crandall, CITC Academic Advocate, Begich Middle School

Interdependence in the Native community is something unique. Look at any gathering, funeral, wedding or village. You will see laughter, live, tears, a vibrant community, and individuals relying on each other to live a full life. A tradition that has been carried in our Native communities for generations.

One of the joys of my job is planning and hosting gatherings in the schools. The last gathering I helped with, I saw our interdependence shine. Transitioning from one school to a new one this year, gave me an opportunity to connect with new faces and new smiles.

Our first pipeline gathering was held at Begich Middle School and all four schools were invited, those being Bartlett, Begich, and Susitna & Scenic Park elementary. It took time and manpower to make the basic part of the gathering happen, a collegial effort amongst staff and partners. Our community made the real magic happen, though. Food was shared, dancers and drummers played to fill our hearts and laughter was flowing throughout. In the end, I felt like we all left with something. Although it may have been different for everyone, I felt like something more was shared.

This is my story of interdependence as I saw it at the beginning of the 2010-2011 school year.

October 15, 2010

Trust

Written by: Dora Boyscout, CITC Academic Advocate, Romig Middle School

Bill was brought to an office across from mine and he sat there quietly. The assistant principal came to my office to inform me that his mom was in his office quite upset. He asked if Bill could sit in my office while he brought mom back to talk with her son.

Things didn’t go too well between the two but I passed no judgment towards the mother as I sat and listened. After a few words spoken to Bill by mom, we sent Bill out to the other office as I listened to mom. Mom was quite upset as she sat and told me about her family and her life. I sat there and listened to her. Once she vented, things settled down with her and I let her know that I would do everything I can to support her and her endeavor to raise her son.

So, my connection with mom began. She put so much trust in me that whatever I said or did, she went with. When speaking with teachers, I was there too, because I was the one who understood her and I could explain to the teachers what was going on.

Several years passed and I was moved to another school. As the school year began, the principal brought me to his office to speak to me about a parent who was just irate. They had a hard time understanding why this parent was so angry with everyone. When he gave me the name, I told him that I knew this parent and that I would advocate to both the parent and the school. The look on his face was of much relief. From there on, I was the main person to contact from both sides. When meetings were in order, I explained and advocated for the parent. When setting up meetings I advocated for the teachers as well. I made sure to tell both sides that I would be there to support both sides.

When trust is established between the school and the community, things go well between the two. This story is an example of how two communities, a parent who wants to be understood and a school who couldn’t understand, came together when trust was put on one person. Trust is one of the most important values a person can bring. We should all strive to give trust to those around us.

October 14, 2010

Trust

Written by: Judy Voisine, CITC Reading Teacher, Willow Crest Elementary School

“I don’t want to do this!” yelled Gabe. It was November and I had just assigned a regrouping worksheet to my Alakanuk 2nd grade classroom. I realized that what Gabe lacked was even more crucial to our relationship than his non-ability to rename tens and ones. Gabe did not trust that I would ensure a successful outcome for his journey through learning regrouping! Unfortunately, Gabe was used to people getting frustrated with his academic struggles and giving up on him. I did a quick “mental rewind.” Had I also been guilty?

I approached Gabe’s desk and knelt to bring my face to his eye level. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest and his scowl was profound. Keeping my voice low, I reminded him about the science experiment on evaporation he’d struggled with. Did he remember how his ice cubes had melted before beginning the experiment and how we’d gone out on the school porch and chipped ice to use instead? The scowl lessened. I reminded him of last week’s story that had seemed impossible to read on Monday, but that he breezed through on Friday. He smiled. He had really liked that story.

“Gabe,” I said, “I know this is really hard right now, but I know you can learn to do this. Lots and lots of kids have had trouble with this before. They’ve all learned how, and you will too. I won’t stop helping you until you do. I promise!” Over the next few days I worked with Gabe on this concept whenever time allowed. Eventually, Gabe did learn, and became so proficient that I asked him to help his peers learn how also. Explaining the process to others cemented his learning, but even more importantly, boosted his self-esteem. “I’ll help you. I promise!” I heard him proudly proclaim on occasion.

Eventually, Gabe’s outbursts became less frequent and vehement. He still demonstrated frustration, but trusted that I would support him and wouldn’t let him fail.

I hope this story demonstrates how I gained the trust of a youngster on the Yukon Delta!

October 13, 2010

Trust

Written by: Carolyn Crosby, CITC Reading Teacher, Susitna Elementary School

(The names and Native Group have been changed or eliminated to respect the privacy of the individual in this story).

I heard the noise in the hallway as Jay came charging into our CITC Learning Center. He threw his coat on the floor, stomped his feet on his way across the room, and slammed himself into a chair screaming, “I hate that teacher; I’m never going back to that classroom again; I want to stay here forever!

There was more stomping with disturbing sounds, hitting the table and grumbling while I cautiously observed from the other side of the room – the only person with him.

Jay and I had a long history – I met him as a third grader who loved coming to CITC from the beginning! He was a sweet, compliant child who spent his younger years in a small village. His Mother and Papa were frustrated because Jay was falling behind in school, but his absences were keeping him from being referred for Special assistance.

Though very far behind his classmates, Jay loved to read and looked forward to reading all manner of word lists, playing learning games, and having me read to him. By the end of third grade he qualified for Special Education assistance and he thrived during this extra “special” time with people he trusted.

In fourth grade, Jay’s life fell apart. Three cherished relatives passed away in close succession and he spent the beginning of quite a few days in our room sobbing uncontrollably. When he wanted a hug for comfort, he hovered over me as a very tall, lanky boy – dwarfing me!

Fourth grade was also when he was not treated with respect by his classroom teacher. He retreated to our room more frequently and his attitude would change as he walked through the door. His trust was in the “arms” of our CITC staff.

Jay’s “blow-up” was in fifth grade – Jay was intelligent with processing problems; he knew what he didn’t know, and was frustrated by the time spent in his homeroom. The second week of school is when the big incident occurred and he continued to escalate over the next few weeks.

We resolved some of his issues with collaboration between the classroom teacher and the principal. When Jay felt he was going to “lose it,” he would ask to come to CITC and he usually just sat and defused himself. He would let us know when he was ready to talk, then we would send him back to his classroom with a smile when the crisis was over.

After Christmas, Jay went back to his village because he felt he no longer had friends and he needed to get away.

In sixth grade, Jay returned as if he were a different child. His family had gotten medical attention for him and he came back from Middle School to visit us often. He would always leave with a hug saying “This is my safe place – sometimes you are the only friends I trust.”

His People assisted him with getting the assistance he needed; Jay’s family worked in Partnership with the school; and, Jay is now realizing the Potential he has after many false starts.

This is my story of the way it happened to me when one student learned to Trust because of help and support from his family and his school.

October 12, 2010

Trust

Written by: Misty Mosquito, CITC Language Arts Teacher, Begich Middle School

It was a slow afternoon at the mall as I was working my second job at the Santa set. I sat under-stimulated at the cash register with my little elf hat on, staring blankly at the blinking lights on Santa’s sleigh. Santa waving in the background did not even wake me from my daze of deep thought about the holidays and how tired I was. Suddenly, from behind, I heard “Mrs. Mosquito?” Darn! Another student knows I work at the Santa booth. When I turned smiling, I was surprised to see not just one of my most brilliant (yet underachieving) students, but his mom as well. “This is my mom Mrs. Mosquito,” John said to me, as proud as could be. I introduced myself and shook her hand. She asked if I was exhausted working two jobs, and I tried my best not to sound whiny and dismissed it with a chuckle as “doing what I have to do to keep the mouths at home fed”.

She confided in me that she also worked two jobs and as she was the only parent at home, she rarely got to see her boys. She explained that because she wasn’t home in the evenings, her son was not getting his homework done (and therefore failing) and she didn’t know what to do about it. I reassured her that I was not passing judgment at all, and we could definitely meet to talk about it if she would just come in to meet with the team at school, as Santa’s set was probably not the best spot. After all, this was a parent we had tried to call and invite in for months. She agreed on the following week.

The next week, I began preparing for the afternoon John’s mom was coming in to meet. I looked at John’s history of test scores and grades. He was (as I already new) brilliant, with highly gifted test scores. However, he just showed no effort at school. This was the best possible scenario. This meeting would be great, and how happy the team would be that I found a way to get mom in. Everything was perfect! Until mom dropped by a day earlier than we’d planned. She said that she couldn’t keep our original meeting date and just thought she’d drop by to talk to me. Stunned, I was able to be the flexible teacher I was taught to be and continue with the meeting as planned, hoping that my disappointment that the team wasn’t there wouldn’t show.

I showed her the test scores, explained what they meant, suggested reasons that I thought John might not be performing to his ability and suggested resources to help. It was standard formula stuff. Mom was elated! She said that she had thought no one could see how bright her boy was because she only got calls for complaint. She immediately turned to her son to inform him that negligence on his behalf would no longer be accepted now that she had proof he could do better.

I almost teared up as she explained to him in front of me how she didn’t want him to ever have to work as hard or have as limited options as she had in her adult life. She warned that all of her suffering had been a direct result of not going to school. It was surreal to see the look on his face, as I knew he was listening to her in a way he never heard me or any other teacher. She then thanked me for the meeting and the great news, and as she walked toward the door she said, “I knew when I met you at the mall, you would not tell me only bad things about my boy. That is why I only wanted to meet with you and not the other teachers. Thank you.”

And that is my experience with trust and working with the students for CITC.

October 11, 2010

Trust
Written by: Missy Gumlickpuk, Student Support Advocate, Education Resource Center/Begich Middle School

I grew up in a small remote village on the Nushagak River. The population was always around 500 or so, and everyone knew everyone. I remember a girl, and her name was Jenny. She achieved both academically and athletically. In junior high she was golden; captain of the Jr. High basketball team and a straight A student. She got a lot of praise, which boosted her ego even more. High school came, she was a freshman and was excited to travel and participate even more in sports. Her basketball and volleyball coach was not only her mentor but also her role model. Jenny was fascinated that her coach played college volleyball and wanted the same dream only it was for basketball. She had a great year! The year ended with her receiving awards such as “Female Athlete of the Year” and “Outstanding Student.”

Summer came and she vowed to herself and her coach that she would stay in shape. Midway through the summer, she met a girl that was a total opposite. The girl’s name was Kathy. She was older and bossy. They would hangout and stay up late, and Jenny would sleep all day waking up with no energy to exercise. At that point she totally stopped! Her coach came back for another school year and was excited to begin volleyball. At the practices she noticed that Jenny wasn’t giving her best, stopped talking to her and would not show up every once in a while. So she decided to have a serious chat with Jenny after practice one day.

The coach reinforced how much talent and drive Jenny had, how she can dominate not only in school but also on the court, how she can be a great role model for all the little girls, and that she believed in her. At that moment, Jenny saw in her coach’s eyes, trust. After that day, Jenny remembered to always trust herself. She realized the truth, that if she pushed herself and believed in herself she can be anything she wanted.

Trust is a very important Alaska Native value. Always trust yourself, family, community, and never let anyone or anything come into your way of achieving your goals.

October 8, 2010

Roots

Written by: Ruth Tong, Intake Specialist, Child & Family Services

I grew up thinking I was full Iñupiaq. I knew my maternal grandmother spoke Unaliq, a dialect of Yup’ik from the village of Elim, to the west of Koyuk, where I was born. My father told me he was Malemuit, part of an Iñupiat contingent from the Kotzebue area who had migrated to the southern Seward Peninsula. I always heard my mother speak fluent Unaliq with her first cousin, Elsie Nelson Ball, who was half Norwegian and half “Eskimo.” I later learned Elsie grew up with her grandparents in Elim. My mother would switch to speaking Iñupiaq with my father. She spent five months in the Kotzebue hospital when I was a baby, so she picked up the Kotzebue or “up north” Iñupiaq dialect as well.

About 2007, my cousin, Iris Magnell, a niece of Elsie Ball, completed a very thorough and impressive family tree of our great-grandparents forward. My older sister also told me our maternal grandmother was Yup’ik from the St. Michael area. From Iris’ family tree, I learned that our great-grandmother, Aukbayuk, was Iñupiaq from the Kotzebue area, and she married Otton, who was Yup’ik.

So, recently I figured I am 3/8 Yup’ik and 5/8 Iñupiaq – still mostly Iñupiaq, but not at all full!

In regard to languages, I remember listening to a documentary made in northern Canada when I was in my early 20s, and I could understand most of the Inuit. And, one year, some Greenlanders came to Anchorage to speak to us in their language, and I understood them too. That was such a revelation to me.

In 2004, I traveled to Kodiak and looked at one of their tourist booklets. On one page, they listed 16 Aleut words, and 11 of them were familiar to me from my Iñupiaq and Yup’ik background. Later still, I looked up an internet site of the Aliotors, indigenous people from the Siberian side close to the Aleutian Islands. One of their publications was called “Wankuta Maani,” which in Yup’ik means “we here.” Because of my Yup’ik/Iñupiaq background, I also understand some of the Siberian Yup’ik spoken on St. Lawrence Island and their relatives in Siberia.

It’s all been a very exciting journey in understanding myself, my forebears, and the larger world of the Northern peoples.

My mother used to say, “I’m not just bi-lingual, I’m multi-lingual!” On a lighter note, I once played internet Scrabble with a lady from the United Kingdom. When we chatted, I asked if she spoke other languages besides English; she said no. I told her I knew a little Iñupiaq, Yup’ik, and a few Aleut words, and that I also mastered the English language. When I beat her in the Scrabble game, I told her to tell people she was beaten by an Eskimo.

October 7, 2010

Roots

Written by: Joe Wilson, CITC Biology Teacher, Bartlett High School

As I recall the trip was going very well. We had made great progress on the shelter in the first two days. The first day of fishing was fun for the boys but in my mind, it was incomplete. We had gotten a variety of cod and rockfish but not many Halibut. I had tried to get them to a great spot but the weather and tide conspired to keep us away. We decided to make a push to try to get to there for the last day but there was a lot of work to do. There were a lot of logistics to make it there by the 10 am slack tide. There was also the problem of weather. It would probably get rough at that spot right after the tide, too rough to be comfortable or with enough safety margin.

The boys working on the gravel pad and shelter

AJ and Devin cleaning the first day's catch

The next problem was that for a while I was the only one doing the work for getting ready. I could understand, we were all tired and it was already getting late. It wasn’t until I called a fireside chat to explain that our fishing success was connected to perhaps unexpected things. Wind, time, tides and the many chores of preparation the night before would be important. It was also very important that we work together to get this all done, otherwise the whole thing would fall apart.

While I was trying to illustrate connections for the boys I was impressed by the connections and questions that I was seeing as a teacher. Wasn’t this the skill that they needed to keep from being stuck in school and therefore shouldn’t we be doing more of this kind of thing at school? Was Devin’s understanding of time and tide better because of his cultural roots in Kodiak? Was AJ’s understanding of cooperation sharp because of his connections to the Kuskokwim? Would this experience help in school-related goals and objectives? The most immediate question was would the boys pull it together enough to allow for the journey in the morning? Would we then find the Halibut?

Answer:

We did make it to that hot fishing spot and the boys caught the limit in about 6 minutes.

AJ is shown above with his largest fish and right after we got the last fish aboard the weather got bad and we had to leave. On the four hour drive to go home, they related this experience to their experience of life in the village and it seemed that everyone that hears the story could relate to the values of hard work and cooperation. The next year in school both boys reported that the experience helped, in fact Devin took Chemistry the next year and did very well.

Both young men did such a good job and had so much fun, that they proposed to continue by forming a club. The idea would for a group of students to work hard on their schoolwork and to plan a larger trip. This is an idea we are still working on here at Bartlett.

October 6, 2010

Roots

Written by: Dick Thompson, Assistant Program Manager, Educational Services

The colors of the Kenai were shades of green and the wind was blowing upstream. The sun was shining and so was I as I finally got to take my granddaughter fishing on my river and share stories and memories of how much fun our family has had camping, fishing, and enjoying nature in Alaska.

The fish struck, Emily yelled, and the fight was on. The most beautiful rainbow jumped and splashed and Emily hung on for her life. After what seemed like an eternity, she landed the fish with grandpa’s help. Leaving the fish in the water, we took pictures and quietly released the fish. Emily wanted to keep her catch but grandpa says, “Put them back for future generations and let your children enjoy the art and joy of fly fishing.”

This is a true cultural value of Alaskans and especially Alaska Native people, as well as environmentalists who love nature. Emily released her next catch, turned and gave me a wonderful smile…a lesson well learned.

October 5, 2010

Roots

Written by: Stephanie Rogers, Data & Grants Compliance, Educational Services

We moved quietly through the house not turning on any lights. We grabbed our clothes, coffee and toast. There were no complaints even though it was 3:30 a.m. It was time to fish. It was summer in Naknek, AK.

We loaded the truck and the four wheelers and headed towards the beach. Traveling down the road each and every time was a treat for me. Everyone waved! Everyone knew who we were, where we were from and what family we fished with. This wasn’t odd. It is quite normal for other families and community members to know more about you than yourself. I was still a bit of an outsider, but accepted nonetheless as part of the Monsen family. I kind of giggle now thinking back; it almost felt like being famous.

I loved the summers I spent in Naknek. In the village, heritage seemed more revered than it did in the city. Every person in the village was important and had a purpose no matter how young or old. Everyone originated from Naknek, or from somewhere very near. In the city, it seemed that everyone originated from somewhere else.

Don’t get me wrong. I had a family with history, culture and lineage, but it wasn’t the same. Here I could smell the sea, touch the sandy beach and see what others had seen decades before. In Anchorage, I had family. Naknek’s families, had roots. I have carried this important lesson with me since the summer of 1985.

October 4, 2010

Roots

Written by: William Wallner, Operations Coordinator, Educational Services

Born and raised in Anchorage, I always felt that I was truly diverse. Knowing at a young age and being proud of the fact that I was Alaska Native and having roots to the wider world gave me a bigger perspective on life. My mother from Barrow who was raised in the Iñupiaq culture, and my father from Anchorage, I always thought that I had the best of both worlds. Raised in a close-knit family, you come to appreciate the smaller things in life you share with your family. Whether it be a small BBQ, birthday party or a bicycle trip to an aunt’s house, I was always taught to be appreciative of the family I had.

As I grew older, I discovered more and more where my family hailed from. A fun fact I learned through my own research and speaking to family members was that my paternal great great-grandfather was originally from Bavaria, Germany and had sailed to Ellis Island with his family to start a new life in America. Another paternal great great-grandfather from Moscow and another from Ireland added to my interest in knowing where my roots originated. A worldly view grew even larger than the state of Alaska from which my parents lived all their lives.

Now, having two nephews adds to sharing such a proud value. Having pride in family and where you come from, can be one of the best gifts you can share. If it wasn’t for having a close-knit family and appreciating being together, I don’t believe this value could have become what it has flourished into today: A sense of belonging and respect for diversity and love for family.

This is a story about my roots and how they play a big role in my life growing up in Anchorage, Alaska.