November 29, 2010

Roots

Written by: Dustin Madden, CITC Integrated Science Teacher, Bartlett High School

I’m going home for Christmas break.

Back to Nome...

The mere thought of returning crumples my insides into a tangled knot. A flood of different emotions courses through my body; the warm feeling in my chest that comes from a lifetime of memories of family and friends tussles with the sickening ache in my liver that I get when I think about seeing my friends and acquaintances stumbling down Front Street, eyes glazed, struggling to greet me through a haze of fetid breath.

In the end, the warmth of connection and the grounded sense of place wins the match. I think back to the day I graduated high school, when one of the town’s unofficial genealogists congratulated me on being the fourth generation of my family to finish high school at Nome Beltz. It took me a moment, but I realized it was true: me, my father, my grandmother, and my great-grandmother Frances all received diplomas from this same place.

Frances was quite proud to have been the first Alaska Native woman to graduate from Nome Beltz High School-- I could see it in her face when I was little and we would stop by to drop off fish heads, or to eat dinner, or simply to chat. She was a strong woman who believed in the value of education, and managed to raise eight children into intelligent, articulate adults. While her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren are now scattered throughout the United States, they all share a common foundation created by Frances.

I say, “created” because although Frances was born in Nome, her mother died in the Spanish influenza epidemic, and so she was shipped to the Chemawa boarding school in Oregon. I never heard details about her time there, but I assume it wasn’t entirely pleasant, because even when asked by close family she would never share tales of her time there. When at last she returned to Nome at age 17, she plunged into life there, deepening her connection to her Iñupiaq culture, and then shared this bond to her heritage with her children. This is why to this day I am rooted not only to the physical location of Nome, but also to the story of heritage and education pioneered by my granny.

This is a tale of roots as I experienced it and as it was told to me by many of my family members throughout the course of my lifetime.

November 26, 2010

Humility

Written by: Shannon Keegan, CITC Science Teacher, Bartlett High School

When I was 16, I watched a news story about a company that guided bicycle tours all over the country. I loved to bicycle and always wanted to see mountains so I called the number and ordered a brochure. I picked out a trip that would take me 650 miles from Montana through the Canadian Rockies and sent in my deposit.

Then reality set in. Not just about the bike ride, but about the amount of money I would need to raise in order to make the trip happen. In addition to the tour price, I had to buy a road worthy bike, as my old Schwinn wouldn't make it to the end of the block.

I grew up in Michigan farm country where seed corn was the crop of choice. I had connections in the corn business and quickly signed a contract to weed the fields outside of town. At $4 an acre, I didn't think it wouldn't take long to have the cash in my pocket and a fancy new ride to cruise through the countryside.

Hoeing corn however, turned out to be a brutal experience. The fields were hot and humid. The sharp edged blades left me covered in red welts and scratches. It was not a job that too many teenagers endured for long. I would have quit but I knew the trip would never happen if I did.

My parents knew how strongly I felt about this trip. They would have just given me the money and sent me off to the mountains if they could have. They would have done anything to help me pursue my dreams. Instead, they did the one thing they could do. Every afternoon my Dad would drive straight from work to my field, pick up a hoe, and spend the rest of the day digging weeds out from between the rows. Sometimes, my mom would come too. What I remember, though, is my Dad, tired from a long day at a dreary job, quietly walking up and down the fields, enduring the 100+ heat. He never complained. He never said anything about not being able to give me with the one thing I wanted more than anything else in my life. He just hoed corn, day after day, week after week, until his hands calloused and his feet blistered.

We eventually hoed enough corn to pay for the trip and we bought the best bike my freshly cashed check would buy. Then I rode that bike over the high mountain passes and past the milky blue lakes I'd always wanted to see.

I consider that trip to be the single most pivotal experience of my life. Riding a bike through the Canadian Rockies when I was 16 changed everything for me. That in and of itself is a story to be told and one I often do tell.

I've never really told the story that lead up to this life changing event, though. I could have worked the corn fields by myself that summer and would have eventually made the money I needed. I know it was difficult for my parents to feel that they couldn't just provide everything for their kids. Rather than feel bad about it, they turned it into a memorable, shared summer. I have never forgotten what they were willing to do to help me.

November 25, 2010

Humility

Written by: Crystal Brown, CITC Reading Teacher, Lake Hood Elementary

As a society, most of us are continuously striving for success and achievement. Once achieved, we feel very proud of ourselves for our accomplishments. Humble people should be just as proud of their success, but are usually aware that they did not get where they are completely on their own. They know and acknowledge that others have helped them accomplish their goals and attain their success.

To be humble is to be selfless, sincere and thankful. One who is humble, does things not for credit or recognition, but simply because it is the right thing to do. Humble people often go unnoticed because they are not constantly trying to spotlight their ‘greatness’ in an effort to feel important. Becoming humble is not something that happens over night; like all other good habits, it should be worked on and practiced often.

It is far more impressive when others discover your good qualities without your help. ~Author Unknown

November 24, 2010

Humility

Written by: Rachel Nielsen, Human Resources Clerk, Cook Inlet Tribal Council, Inc.

My parents’ intent for a “big” family was for subsistence purposes. We had 14 kids in our family – 10 girls and 4 boys, 5 of which have passed on. Since there were more girls than boys, my father chose two girls to become hunters. Both had keen vision and were able to spot animals, people, boats, etc., at a far distance. Both were agile and excelled at shooting guns and hitting the target right on. The rest of us girls were the meat haulers, fish cutters, bakers, cooks, and cleaned house.

I was the baker. How I became the baker was when I was 10 years old, my father and mother awoke early one fall Saturday to fish for tomcods. Just before leaving the house, my mother glanced my way and said, “Make some bread.” Before I could reply, she was off and running. I cried for a few minutes feeling overwhelmed and inadequate. I sat watching my mother make bread every Saturday. With this knowledge, she knew I was ready to make bread on my own.

I got the bread pan (a light gray huge wash pan), flour, salt, sugar, yeast, canned milk and warm water. I put warm water in a small bowl and put some yeast in it. I mixed the floor, sugar and salt together. I placed the yeast mixture, shortening and more warm water and poured in the canned milk. I stirred it together and added the flour mixture little at a time making sure there were no flour lumps. I added floor until the dough was kneadable. I kneaded the dough using my whole body. It was a big “blob” over half my size. I rubbed shortening over the bread ball and placed a dishtowel over the dough. I placed the pan by the sun to make it rise faster.

When the dough doubled in size, running over the rim, I punched it down. I got a knife, cut a sizable piece, shaped it into a loaf, placed it into the bread pan, and rubbed shortening on it. When the bread doubled in size, I fired up the oven, and placed the bread in the hot oven. I baked the bread for 45 minutes, placed the bread on a rack and rubbed the tops with shortening.

When my mother and father came home, my mother was surprised that I made 13 loaves of bread. From then on, I was dubbed “the baker” of the family. So, with this said, I learned to embrace new and adventurous opportunities. My saying is, “Whenever an obstacle is in my way, I look at it as a challenge and I become stronger because of it.”

November 23, 2010

Humility

Written by: Stephanie Rogers, Special Programs Manager, Educational Services System

One day I helped a woman create her resume. She was coming back into the work force after 15 years of being a caregiver to her family. She was a bit apprehensive. I asked her to list the things she did every day. She was almost irritated that I thought this would help solve her writing block.

When she was done, she was rather skeptical. How in the world would her everyday non-working life turn into a professional resume? I began reading her rather lengthy list and was completely amazed. This single parent cared for three children and an ailing mother. She only had the bus for transportation, no income other than the monthly SSI check and no help at home except an occasional visit from a sibling. Her children were receiving high grades in school, she volunteered at her church, took care of the house and yard and cooked all of the meals for everyone. She made sure her mother received all her medications on time, and took her to doctor appointments. She even helped the elderly neighbor. This woman was amazing!

After the resume was complete, she was very grateful although still a bit perplexed. She had no idea what she did every day was far more than what she would do in any “job.” This in my opinion is true humility. People who do amazing things everyday without question or without being proud, just because it needs to be done.

This happened at Cook Inlet Tribal Council’s Hospitality and Tourism Department in 2003.

November 22, 2010

Humility

Written by: Eileen Jordan, CITC Math Teacher, Romig Middle School

One fall, the municipality at Russian Jack Chalet was offering a beading class. I had always wanted to learn how to bead. I mean just how difficult could it be? I signed up for the class and was so optimistic about creating some beautiful beading projects. I knew it would be slow, but had no idea just how slow it would be...for me. The instructor was kind and patient, but I had to do the work after she showed me how to get started. I had a flower pattern, perfect needles, perfect thread and perfect lighting.

After 2 hours of working on my first beading project, I think I had beaded one side of a leaf. Beads were rolling all over the place and I seemed to run out of thread right before I was to end the line or corner. My eyes were tired and my shoulders were tense from sitting for so long without moving around.

I went home a bit frustrated to say the least. I was determined to create at least one small (very small) project with the beads. My thoughts went back to some of the most beautiful beaded art work I have ever seen from all over Alaska. I thought about how the women would create this beadwork with items they used from natural resources such as bones, quills, and plants. How did they create such beautiful designs and patterns?

My appreciation and awe of their work changed a lot after that one class.

Now when I wander through our beautiful museum and see the beadwork, I cannot help but appreciate their patience and creativity on a completely different level.

November 19, 2010

Humor

Written by: Alice Metz, CITC Teacher/Tutor, Education Resource Center, ESS

This incident happened when my grandson was at the age of three. My daughter and grandson relocated to Alaska from Fort Riley, Kansas during the spring season.

One day during the summer season my husband, daughter, and grandson were at home. My daughter was getting her son ready for an afternoon nap. My husband wanted to talk to my daughter about something. They were discussing an issue for a while and then my husband realized the quietness of their surroundings. Both of them looked at each other and wondered where my grandson went. They both looked in all the rooms of the house and in the backyard. There was no sign of him.

They alerted our neighbors and they formed a search party right away. At the same time, my daughter called 911 and explained what was going on. Our next-door neighbor is a policeman, which he also noticed of the absence of my grandson.

The search party had started looking for my grandson. My daughter had weird thoughts about her son. “What if he had already been hit by a car or someone kidnapped him. If a vehicle had hit him, the search party would by now notify her. If a stranger kidnaps him, I have lost my only son and I will never see him again.”

My husband happened to go to the master bedroom and without any purpose flipped the covers from the bed. Underneath the covers was my grandson innocently sound asleep.

The search party was notified that my daughter’s son was found.

November 18, 2010

Humor

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

“Jack the Shaq O’Neill”

As an elementary basketball coach, I had a very good team one year, with the exception of a good center. The boys in 5^th grade suggested that Jack try out for the team. Please understand that Jack was a fifth grader, but measured in at 5’ 7” and 250 pounds! Immediately, Jack piped in that he couldn’t do it because he didn’t know how to play basketball. I answered that this was not a problem. “All you have to do is stand in the middle of the key, keep your arms up, and don’t let anyone through!” Still skeptical, Jack finally agreed.

Elementary basketball in the village draws a huge crowd. Parents and grandparents love to see the youngsters play basketball. The first game we were to play was against one of our arch rivals.

In order to get Jack into a uniform, my wife had to enlarge a size L elementary uniform with material scraps. Jack’s appearance on the basketball court caused quite a sensation – especially with the opposing team and their fans in attendance.

The opposing team got the ball first. Their players were usually quick and agile. One of their guards was rapidly dribbling down the court, so I hollered to Jack, “Just stand there and put your arms up!” The little guy dribbling had no idea where Jack was because his concentration was focused on dribbling the ball. Next thing we knew, we saw this young player look up ready to shoot, and confront the human wall that was Jack. Unable to stop his momentum, he collided with Jack and bounced back to the top of the key. Totally startled, he laid there and looked up Jack.

At first, a hush came over the crowd. Jack, being the “gentle giant” that he was, he went over and helped the youngster to his feet. Still wobbly from the collision, the youngster’s face sported a look of total confusion. The crowd erupted in applause and great laughter.

From that moment on, the opposing team stayed clear of Jack and the key.

This is how the people of the Yukon Delta displayed humor to me.

November 17, 2010

Humor

Written by: Katie Tunuchuk, CITC Reading Teacher, Scenic Park Elementary School

Humor, what does it mean? Why is it a Yup’ik value? As I was thinking of what to write for this piece, the one thing that kept popping into my head were my “uicung” (male to female cousin) and my “ilung” (female to female cousin) from another village. In other words, my teasing cousins. When I first met them, I was told by my dad and other relatives that I was supposed to tease them.

I didn’t know these two people very well and I didn’t feel comfortable enough to tease them. The teasing was very light in the beginning and didn’t happen all the time. As we got to know each other better, the teasing became more intense and happened more often.

When you have a teasing cousin, it is your job to tease that person as much as possible. There are some valuable things you can learn from teasing and being teased: self-control so you don’t go overboard in your teasing, patience so you don’t get angry when you are being teased, and endurance (if you can dish it, you need to be able to take it too). Another important aspect to teasing is the ties that strengthen the bonds between the cousins. Today, I have a close relationship with my two cousins and we continue to tease each other as much as possible.

November 16, 2010

Humor

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

We all have our own unique sense of humor. I am fortunate to be surrounded with people who I believe have the finest sense of humor. Through humor, I have learned to get through some of life’s rough patches and I would like share some stories about the people in my life that have contributed.

My Mom is one of the few people I know that uses humor in all that she does. Her humor is very unique and uplifting. She loves to make people laugh, which makes her one of the greatest people I know. There are times when her humor is very inappropriate but somehow still can make you laugh to the point where there are tears coming from your eyes.

One time in particular I can remember was when I was in high school. I got into trouble with my science teacher and was sent to the principal’s office. My mom was very angry. After we met with the principal she cracked a joke and said, “you get sent to the principal’s office more than your brothers combined (I have 4 brothers)!” She knew exactly what to say to make me laugh and help me forget about my troubles. To this day, we can laugh about anything, and those are truly memories I will never forget.

My best friend is another person in my life that has a great sense of humor. There is never a dull moment with her. I always tell her that she can be a great stand up comedian. She can turn any bad situation into a comic-laughing riot. I have gone through a lot this year and honestly, without her I don’t think I could have done it on my own. I know I can always count on her to make me smile and laugh when I need it most.

My cousin and I have the same type of sense of humor. Put us together and we laugh up a storm! We have found that when we are scared or nervous the great tool of laughter and humor can get us through just about anything!

These three people in my life have certainly put a lot of laughter in my life and a light into the reality of how humor can ease hardship and make your day go by just a little smother. I know I can always count on them whenever I need a good laugh. Good humor is a wonderful thing.

“Through humor, you can soften some of the worst blows that life delivers. And once you find laughter, no matter how painful your situation might be, you can survive it.” – Bill Cosby

November 15, 2010

Humor

Written by: Judy Voisine, CITC Intermediate Literacy/Math Teacher, Willow Crest Elementary

When I first met Theresa, she seemed to have not a care in the world! She could find humor in any situation, and got everyone and me around her to giggle or guffaw several times hourly. Spending any amount of time with Theresa left you feeling positive and energized for the rest of the day!

Theresa spent part of the day as the instructional aide in my classroom, so I was blessed with spending a lot of time with her. I soon learned that Theresa was a survivor. She had survived a failed marriage, diabetes, breast cancer, a brain tumor, and the suicide of a son and several nieces and nephews. She was the sole source of support for an ailing parent, was raising 2 granddaughters, and helped out a bedridden sibling. This she did with the ability to find humor in almost any situation, and to put a smile on almost any face.

To this day, when I feel overwhelmed or down in the dumps, I think, “What would Theresa have done?” I realize that Theresa probably made the conscious decision every morning to greet life with humor. Her strength of character makes her one of my foremost role models.

This is an example of the resilient Native value of humor I saw demonstrated in an Alaska Bush community on the Yukon River.

November 12, 2010

Respect

Written by: Richard Larochelle, CITC Math & Material Science Teacher, Bartlett High School

I grew up in Maine and spent summers helping my father, a lumberjack in the forests. It was hard work but satisfying. He trained me to stay alert, how to use a chain saw, cut at a certain angle to fall a tree and communicate with the other camp members. Lumberjack skills require concentration, math skills, good physical condition, constantly on the alert and awareness of surroundings. Reading the weather and watching the seasonal changes were also an important asset in decision-making.

Years later when my wife’s brothers took me out hunting on the Yukon Delta, the skills my father taught me helped me to assimilate to that region. Observing the coastal weather and reading tides were a little challenging, but I had good teachers. I found that although I lived in a different environment and culture, my upbringing proved that our values are similar. There is a need to pay attention, practice close observation; work hard and listen respectfully to name a few are universal standards.

Knowledge from the two diverse cultures who share the same principles gives me a good foundation in my teaching career.

November 11, 2010

Respect

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

Respect can be hard to come by in this day and age. Most often, we have to earn it. Within my culture, respect had to be. No matter the person, respect had to be shown. We were taught to respect those around us and their belongings, authority, and the rules of the community.

Growing up the village, back in the day, is a memory of carefree and fun filled days and rules that needed to be followed. I remember playing outside for long periods of time and it would get dark but we didn’t know how to tell time. The only way we knew it was time to head on home was the sound of the church bell. Without any questions asked, we all would head home. At times there would be a police officer walking around letting us know it was time to head home. He would just say, “good night”, and we would all stop playing and head home…no questions asked.

It just goes to show how much respect was taught to us while growing up. I am grateful for my parents and the elders of the community for teaching us respect in many different ways.

November 10, 2010

Respect

Written by: Cami Larochelle, CITC Reading Teacher, Scenic Park Elementary

I still can hear Ataataq’s, (my grandfather) voice speaking in his limited English. “When a person comes in the house, you ask: “You hungry? Thirsty? Feed them, no matter what they look like, handsome, pretty, ugly, Eskimo or not, rich or poor, set the table for them and feed them.”

We did not have electricity or running water back then. Our homes were heated by wood stove. Everyone participated in our subsistence way of living in St. Michael. Our travels via dog teams and walking throughout the cold winter days always made the offer of tea or food sound welcome. It wasn’t the gesture that was important, but the belief and value behind it.

My mother explained, “When you give, it’ll come back to you, never be stingy.” Another version of my grandfather and mother’s words is: Give and it will be given unto you, pressed down, shaken together and overflowing.

This value system is not a hand out, nor one of greed. It is a prosperous value of caring for one another with a grateful attitude for the One who provided.

November 9, 2010

Respect

Written by: Helen Ramondos, CITC Reading Teacher, Lake Hood Elementary

No one can make you feel inferior without your consent. Eleanor Roosevelt (Former First Lady)

When I was a child, my parents regularly admonished me to “respect others”. I grew to see the wisdom in their ways and always sought their counsel. They seemed so knowledgeable, as people in the community valued and respected them because they treated others equally. I now realize that what I have come to value in myself, I became because of my father and my mother.

As a teacher, I felt the need for my students to understand the concept of respect and evaluate their own beliefs regarding it. I wanted them to identify respectful behaviors and how the impact of their behaviors affected others. One of my lessons on respect was where my students’ would have a “Pair-Share” exchange. Each student would fill out a worksheet on sentence starters such as “The person I respect most is __; My parents taught me to respect ___; I demonstrate respect for my heritage when I ___; Respect means__; I show respect by__. The class would then be divided into pairs and share with the whole class the ideas they generated. The class discussions involved all to understand not only their own beliefs on respect, but others, as well.

The following are some of my students’ verbatim responses on “Respect”:

Respect is being kind.

Respect is listening to my teacher.

Respect is not to talk back to my parents or teachers.

Respect is to be polite and nice to my family and friends.

Respect is obeying my mommy and daddy and papa and gramma.

Respect means being good.

Respect means listen. I listen because I love my mom and I love baby Anthony.

Respect means be kind and be a good listener.

Respect means help others and be nice to them and be kind. Help teach them things they don’t know. Be respectful to them.

Respect means to listen to the teachers and the parents.

Respect means that you have to respect others and that you have to be nice to them. Respect your teachers and anyone in your classroom or at your house. You have to be nice to everyone even your brother and your sister and mom and dad and gramma and papa.

Respect means being good, liking people, not being mean, and be good. I talk like I am smart and good and I like myself and that is what respect means.

I show respect to my elders by listening to them and helping them babysit, also cleaning up and helping them with their stuff.

I show respect to my elders by listening to them. I like my grandpa and when I have company.

I show respect to my dad to be good and behave.

I show respect to my grandma and I show respect to others. I treat them nice and I treat my sister nice when she does that back to me. I even help my mom and dad.

I show respect to my elders by helping them walk by holding their hand, going to my grandma’s house to keep them company, listening to my grandma, and helping make my bed.

Respect means I help my Nana Sheila and Grandpa Bill clear off the table.

Respect means don’t talk when somebody else is. No kicking or hitting. Raise your hand instead of shouting.

I show respect to my grandma by finding her glasses.

I show respect to my grandma by cleaning up.

Respect means I’m being kind. I help others.

I have listed some books on respect that I have used in my classroom over the years,

and a brief synopsis on what they are about.

Morning on the Lake by J.B. Waboose—This is a story about how a Native American child and her grandmother spent the day in the wilderness. It promotes the familial love and respect for all living things that share the universe. A great book for all kids and adults too!

Summer of the Swans by B. Byars—A fictional story of a teenage girl who gains new insight and respect into herself and her family when her mentally handicapped brother gets lost. Intermediate

A Sign of the Beaver by E. Speare---A Newbery Honor fictional story of a boy named Matt, who ends up alone in the wilderness while his father returns south to get the rest of the family. He is faced with many challenges and meets a North American chief and his grandson who teaches them survival skills. A great book on respect and appreciation of another culture. Intermediate and older.

A Man Called Raven by Richard Van Camp---A Pacific Northwest folklore that teaches respect for life, both human and animal. Primary.

Anna’s Athabascan Summer by Arnold Griese---The book shows the intergenerational relationship of an Athabascan girl and her grandmother’s travels to a fish camp in interior Alaska. It includes traditional teaching by grandmother and respect and spirituality shown to salmon, the raven and other aspects of nature. A great self-image for children. Primary.

Wish by Roseanne Thong---The book shows respect for traditions around the world. Each custom provides insights into the cultures of lands far and near while reminding us of the similarities we all share. Primary to intermediate grades.

Wisdom Tales From Around The World by Heather Forest---A collection of 27 folktales from around the world with respect for diverse traditions. A great read aloud. Ideal for young adults.

Knots on a Counting Rope by B. Martin---A Native American grandfather tells a blind boy the inspirational story of a child’s birth. The counting rope is a metaphor for the passage of time and for a boy’s emerging confidence facing his physical handicap. A rich tale of intergenerational love and respect. Primary

It is in our own interest that we give others their due respect. It is a win-win situation.

“When I approach a child, he inspires in me two sentiments: Tenderness for what he is, and respect for what he may become”. Louis Pasteur (1822-1895) French Scientist

November 8, 2010

Respect

Written by: Letitia Freed, Tribal Vocational Rehabilitation Counselor Associate, Employment & Training Services Department

From as far back as I can remember I have always wanted to come to Alaska. Therefore, making the move to Alaska was not difficult for me. It was more like the awakening of destiny for me. I would only come to learn how much. The minute we learned that the military was about to reassign us to the State of Alaska we began making plans for our new life. We knew that this would be our last military assignment and we would probably retire in this new location. We imagined how we would gaze at the beautiful snow capped mountains and partake in a variety of winter related activities. This assignment would represent a dream come true for us.

Shortly after the military issued us this new assignment to Alaska, I received a rather unpleasant medical diagnosis by my doctor, who only had limited knowledge of this somewhat rare medical condition and its’ affects on my quality of life. After arriving at my new base, I was immediately assigned to a doctor who happened to have a little more knowledge about this medical condition than the previous doctor. I began to ask this doctor about the necessary lifestyle changes I could make to prevent any further damage and better manage this condition. The Dr.’s response was, “Eliminate meats from your diet altogether, drink lots of water and eat wild Alaskan Salmon. These changes should help prevent any further damage.” I was initially skeptical, but complied nonetheless.

Three years later, my insurance company finally approved me for a visit to see a specialist for my condition. During the visit, the specialist compared my initial lab results to the present. He said, “Your medical condition is actually improving according to these lab results. What happened? What did you do?’ I began to explain to him about the lifestyle changes I had made at the advice of the other doctor (which included regular salmon consumption). With this news, I was grateful not just because my health was improving, but also because I was lead to a land that was not only beautiful, but also, by virtue of its essence would now offer me the subsistence I needed in my life.

Through this experience, I developed an even greater respect for the land.

November 5, 2010

Accountability

Written by: Linda Lee, CITC Advanced Math Teacher, West High School

Hanging above the mantle in my parent’s home is a photograph of my family of origin. On the far right of the photo is a staircase leading to a large passenger plane. Standing by the first step is my Mom followed by a diagonal of heads from tallest to smallest children and picking up the rear is my Dad in full uniform holding his briefcase of traveling papers. We are the military family in transit from Newfoundland to Panama. I am the middle child of seven children from a military family. Every three years we moved from one base to another. The family was my constant, my rock, my world. At an early age, we were taught to care for the younger sibling.

But it was when I was sixteen that I learned a more complete lesson of accountability. We were new to Elmendorf, Alaska and both my older brother and my younger sister were new to West High School. It was Halloween, I was going to a basketball game at West, and my younger sister was going with a new girlfriend to a party at her friend’s house. My father had just bought us a used Volkswagen Karman Ghia that was to serve as the older kids’ transportation since most activities took place off base. The Wednesday before the weekend, I learned that the party was not going to be chaperoned and the friend might not be so reputable. But I said nothing to anyone. I was going to the game.

The weekend came, and so did disaster. The neighbors interrupted the girlfriend’s party. Parents of the partiers were called to retrieve their children. My sister was in serious trouble with the family. Her introduction to Alaska and WHS was severely curtailed. Mom and Dad said she should have shown more responsibility. But she really didn’t know all the facts. She became a freshman who stayed home for the better part of the semester. The lesson did not end there. When it became known that I had heard “rumors”, Mom and Dad said my lack of action did not remove my culpability. I joined her in her punishment. My brother’s privilege to use the car was very carefully monitored all year and my father got a write up on his military record. Who was really accountable for this disaster?

Quote about Accountability :

“When you point your finger at someone, remember that four fingers are pointing backward. “

November 4, 2010

Accountability

Written by: Georgianna Starr, CITC Math Teacher, Begich Middle School

In my years of teaching, there have always been staff meetings, peer observations, administration evaluations, and professional development that focus on teacher accountability especially in the era of NCLB. District offices devote many hours on this task and produce charts and graphs showing which schools have made adequate yearly progress.

When I first began teaching with LKSD, I remember a keynote speaker whose point was this: teachers have many measures of accountability but where is the measure of accountability on the parents of the students that we teach?

This student is now in college, but when I had him in the 5^th grade, he didn’t do homework, he lacked effort in school, and we knew that that what he produced didn’t show his true ability. By around the 2^nd quarter, I was becoming increasingly frustrated, as were the parents, so we organized a meeting with the student. He sat there with a pensive look on his face. As all of us spoke in turn, we all talked about how much we believed in him, about how strongly we felt that his efforts didn’t match his ability. For examples, we showed progress reports and examples of his work. As the meeting went on, the parents made a decision to create a homework schedule. We communicated regularly, and we informed them of what needed extra attention at home.

With the parents’ support, with the communication from school to home, this student became successful. His grades improved, his outlook on school improved as he gained success, and more importantly, his parents involvement showed him that education doesn’t happen in the classroom alone.

This is my experience with parent accountability.

November 3, 2010

Accountability

Written by: JJ Iverson, CITC Social Studies Teacher, West High School

It was in 1997, as a high school senior, that I remember learning about accountability. As a teenager I pretty much just stuck to my business and was only worried about myself. I had heard my whole life up to that point that a person’s senior year should be one of the best of his/her life. I was determined to make this the case for myself.

This was very evident in football. I did everything I could to put myself in position to be the best player I could be. I wasn’t concerned about team chemistry, brotherhood, keeping others focused, helping develop younger players, etc. However, as a senior captain, it was an unwritten rule that I should be concerned about such ideals.

One day my position group was having a terrible day of practice. Our coach was all over us about our lack of effort, poor attitude, and inability to make adjustments. Push-ups and extra conditioning were our punishments for the poor performance. I had no problems doing the extra work because I knew it was merited.

At the conclusion of practice my coach yanked me aside and told me my teammates had made a mistake by voting me as a captain. I was crushed after hearing this because I thought I was doing the right thing by letting my actions do the talking. My coach’s justification was that I wasn’t being the leader I needed to be in order to help this team reach its full potential. In other words, I wasn’t holding myself accountable. He said that as a captain I should be held accountable for the performance of my teammates, not just my own. He believed that since I was considered a player who could make a difference on the field that I had the responsibility to do the same off of it as well. Being more vocal, being at the front of the line in all drills, snapping at players who were messing around, taking part in other football functions, and taking underclassmen under my wing were examples he cited that could help me earn his respect back and also those of my teammates.

The next day I apologized to my teammates for not being the captain they had expected me to be. I told them from that point on that I would hold myself accountable, but in turn, they should also try to do the same. For the remainder of the season, “BE ACCOUNTABLE” was our battle cry. This simple idea reminded my teammates and I to always be conscious of our jobs and how went about carrying them out.

This is the way I remember the cultural value of being accountable as I experienced in Pierre, SD with my teammates in the fall of 1997.

November 1, 2010

Accountability

Written by: Doug Herron, CITC PE Teacher, Bartlett High School

I can still remember my mother telling my principal and my teacher on the first day of school that it was ok for them to paddle me if necessary. Those were the “good ‘ol days”. Not so much, but it was the value that my parents instilled at an early age with me and my sister that if we did something wrong, we were expected to own up to it and we were also taught that there were always consequences for our actions.

Accountability was an important value in our family. It was an important value as we interacted with each other and with our friends and other acquaintances. There were expectations. We were also taught that to be accountable also meant to be responsible.

I spent many summers on rivers in Alaska. I had many opportunities to demonstrate my level of maturity or lack of when it came to cabin and boat responsibilities. My motivation was driven by the opportunities to hunt and to fish. I could type up a 10 page paper illustrating the times that I had the opportunity to own up to something and demonstrate my ability to accept full responsibility for my actions. I will share one short story.

I was 14 and had been learning how to drive. Our cabin was situated on a river, but had road access to a small village. I was trying to demonstrate to my father that I was very capable of driving to the village for supplies. One day, my father threw me the keys and sent me and my cousin to town for a few things. My first real opportunity to show that I could do it. Everything went great. I made it to town, I purchased what my father needed and began driving home. I was the coolest 14 year old around. So cool in fact, that I had to roll down the window so I could hang my elbow out like my father did when he drove. Driving with one hand. Now that’s cool!

I approached a guy on a three wheeler, it was one of our neighbors on the river. I made a pass and while I did, I calmly and in my coolest way possible, waved like driving for me was an old hat. What I failed to do was keep my eyes on the road. At that same moment, the road took a sharp right hand turn. I didn’t. I launched the truck airborne, all of the things I had purchased were flying out of the back and into the trees and I was buried up to the doors in mud. I immediately looked for answers (excuses) of why I wrecked my father’s truck. I had to be able to come up with a reason why it happened and it wasn’t my fault. It only took me a few moments to realize that I was going to have to take full responsibility for this one.

Needless to say, I explained what had happened. We found some folks to help pull us out and it wasn’t long after and I was asked to go to town again. Just one of the many examples of how growing up in Alaska as a kid in the bush provides you with many opportunities to learn the value of accountability.