Arts & Culture

The City of Hoonah and the non-profit arm of the local Alaska Native corporation, Huna Heritage Foundation, unveiled a brand new, 21-foot totem pole during a ceremony at the Hoonah Harbor on Friday. 

The totem pole, called a Kootéeyaa in Lingít, was designed and raised to honor the community’s rich fishing history and traditions. It’s called the Fisherman’s Honor Totem Pole. Carved into the yellow cedar log are depictions of different fishing methods locals use, like gillnetting and seining. 

“This is what you’re looking at — the Hoonah fishing people,” said Master Artist Gordon Greenwald. “All of us in the past, all of us in the future, and all of us now.”

A crowd of more than 100 people gathered for the ceremony. Many were Hoonah residents and a catamaran brought dozens of people from Juneau for the ceremony. 

Greenwald led the team of carvers who designed and created the Kootéeyaa, which took five months to complete. The ceremony included traditional songs and dances as the tarp was pulled away from the pole to unveil it to the community. 

Fishing is deeply intertwined with the economy and identity of Hoonah. During the 1950s and 1960s, Hoonah became known as the home of the “Million Dollar Fleet.” That’s because of the local fishermen’s highly lucrative skills and success on the water. 

Hoonah’s Vice Mayor Amelia Wilson thanked the crowd for celebrating the Kootéeyaa and the meaning behind it. 

“To see so many of our fishermen and fisherwomen here really just makes me so proud to be honoring all of you and that legacy that we have of thousands and thousands of years of amazing fishermen,” she said.

David Sheakley, a speaker at the event, said the pole honors the fishermen who are alive today and recognizes those who have passed away. His speech referenced the rain, which pattered down on the tents above the crowd. Many people present were active or retired fishermen. 

“It’s as if this Kootéeyaa is here to help turn those tears of sorrow into tears of joy,” he said. “To continue on the fishing that is so important within the community, to continue that on into the future.”

This is Lingít Word of the Week. Each week, we feature a Lingít word voiced by master speakers. Lingít has been spoken throughout present-day Southeast Alaska and parts of Canada for over 10,000 years.

Gunalchéesh to X̱’unei Lance Twitchell, Goldbelt Heritage Foundation and the University of Alaska Southeast for sharing the recorded audio for this series.

This week’s word is shaa, or mountain. Listen to the audio below to learn how to say shaa.

The following transcript is meant to help illustrate the words and sentences. 

Keihéenák’w John Martin: Shaa. 

That means mountain.

Here are some sentences:

Keihéenák’w John Martin: Ḵúnáx̱ átx̱ sitee yá Lingít yá óoxjaa noowx̱ sitee yá shaa.

Itʼs really something, for the Lingít, the mountains are a wind fortress.

Keiyishí Bessie Cooley: Shaa kaadé na.átch dzískw, tlákw táakw.

The moose always walk up the mountains every winter.

Kooshdáakʼu Bill Fawcett: Shaayadaadé gax̱too.aat.

Letʼs go up around the upper part of the mountain.

Ḵaakal.áat Florence Marks Sheakley: Lingít aaní shayadihéin shaa.

There are many mountains on Lingít land.

Kaxwaan Éesh George Davis: Dleit a shakée daak wusitán wé shaa.

It snowed on top of the mountain.

You can hear each installment of Lingít Word of the Week on the radio throughout the week. 

Additional language resources:

Find biographies for the master speakers included in this lesson here.

Learn more about why we use Lingít instead of Tlingit here.

Watch a video introducing Lingít sounds here.

After multiple meetings and extended debate, the school board has agreed to fund more of a Lingít language immersion program in the upcoming school year – even amid statewide school budgeting concerns. 

The program in question is Át Koowaháa: Expanding the Tlingit Culture, Language, and Literacy Program — or TCLL. The school district and the nonprofit arm of a regional Native corporation have historically roughly split the cost. 

The school board signed a memorandum of agreement Wednesday with Sealaska Heritage Institute to increase its investment in the TCLL.

But school board members brought up questions about whether the district should pay for more of the TCLL program amidst widespread concerns about funding. 

Board member Elizabeth Siddon said the school board supports TCLL, but it has to balance that with the needs of the entire district. 

“But we support it amongst how we support all of our 4,000 students,” she said. “So I’m trying to keep in mind that these 119 are not the only students we’re responsible for.”

The school board initially approved the change during its budget process. They were then under the impression that the grant SHI used for the program was ending, according to the school board president. But SHI was later approved for an extension of the grant. 

The program isn’t growing, but now JSD will fund eight of its 11 positions. The change requires an additional $233,802 from the school district’s budget. 

SHI Education Director Kristy Ford said the program is intended to increase the number of Lingít language speakers. 

“We have less than 10 fluent speakers left,” she said. “So the need and the urgency to put an intensive amount of support and instruction into the TCLL program was asked of us.”

Some school board members raised the concern that the program only serves a small percentage of Juneau students, but Ford said the scope is intentional. It is intense and immersive so that there is a group of dedicated speakers to make sure the Lingít language doesn’t go extinct.

Correction: This story has been updated to include a more accurate cost estimate for the two teaching positions. 

Dashing through prickly spruce trees on his four-wheeler, Oleksii Butenko led his wife and seven children up a trail near Delta Junction in May. The older kids rode their own four-wheelers and dirt bikes, while the little ones held on behind.

At a clearing, they turned off their engines and walked up a hill overlooking the braided Tanana River. The kids explored as the parents sat among early spring flowers. The family visits this spot almost every week, for the views and solitude.

“We liked it here – we like the calm and quiet,” Oleksii said.

The family moved to Delta Junction from Cherkasy Oblast in Ukraine three years ago to escape the war. They came here to join family, but they say they’ve grown to love the very Alaskan lifestyle that Delta Junction offers.

“We were flying directly here, to join them,” Natali Butenko said in Russian. “Here we have freedom, and children can ride quadricycles and bikes. We like this place, and we feel comfortable living here.”

Since Russia invaded Ukraine in 2022, more than 700 Ukrainians have settled in Alaska, at least 120 of them in the Delta Junction area. Many of the newcomers, including the Butenko family, used the Uniting for Ukraine program, which allowed them to come to the U.S. with help from a local sponsor.

Even before the war, Delta Junction had strong Slavic roots — Ukrainians make up a much larger share of the population here than in the rest of the state. Amanda Turnbull, a longtime local English teacher, said the large Ukrainian population helped the newcomers have a softer landing.

“It was just kind of like big families getting bigger,” she said. “A lot of them are coming over, and they’re living with their families.”

But Uniting for Ukraine stopped accepting new applicants in January, following an order from President Trump that aimed to secure the border to, in the order’s words, “protect the American people from the disastrous effects of unlawful mass migration and resettlement.”

Some avenues for staying in the country – such as temporary protected status – remain viable for Ukrainians, but immigration policies continue to change swiftly. This week, the Washington Post reported that the Trump administration is considering deporting people from active conflict zones, including Ukraine.

To get through the uncertain times, many Ukrainians in Delta say they are leaning on their faith.

“We don’t know what the future holds,” Natali said. “God blesses our day today, so we thank him for today. And tomorrow, we will ask for his blessing again.”

Leaning on faith

On a sunny Sunday in May, the Word of Life church was full with families. Some of the men were clad in suits, and women wore skirts and dresses, with a few covering their hair with veils. Children ran and giggled between the pews. Several pastors were speaking to the crowd in Russian, as younger parishioners translated their words into English.

The secondary pastor at Word of Life, Victor Linnik, said the church welcomes the incoming Ukrainian refugees and often serves as a place for connection to services and community.

“When you have someone that shares some faith, it’s easier, because we call each other brother and sister,” he said. “So when you get to someone, you get like into a family, and once you get into a family, you feel more comfortable.”

Linnik’s daughter-in-law, Valeriia, moved here from Odesa in 2022. She said that with the church community, she always has a person to call and share her sadness or joy.

Valeriia came to service with her husband, whom she met in Delta Junction. She said her marriage helped her see her new home in a different light.

“It’s a joy to be with a loved one, anywhere,” she said. “That’s what gives color to the place.”

Valeriia said she tries not to worry about politics because it is outside her control. She said she strives to stay humble and find solace in her faith.

“Of course the church is helping,” she said. “God is helping. He calms and soothes the heart.”

Building self-reliance

Natalia and Vladimir Moroz set the table with a tea pot and a homemade Slavic Napoleon cake, to the excitement of their three young daughters.

“Ukrainian soul – we won’t let you go without feeding you,” Natalia said.

The family is from Donetsk, but after Russia occupied the area in 2014, they relocated to Poland. Their move to Delta in 2022 – also to join family – was hard at first. Vladimir said they questioned their decision because they felt like they were burdening people. But with time, they settled into a life here, Natalia caring for their daughters and Vladimir picking up various jobs.

“I think America makes us stronger, more independent, and it teaches us a lot,” Natalia said.

Vladimir started working at a local auto body shop even though he had no experience working with cars before — even changing a tire used to make him nervous. He and his friend built a mobile sauna, started a business renting it out and eventually sold it.

Now Vladimir works in construction and is excited about the stability the work brings to him and his family. In Europe he said making ends meet was a challenge, while in Alaska, working hard allows them to live comfortably.

“If you put effort into work, you expand your opportunities,” he said. “To live in Alaska, you have to know how to do things, how to be self-reliant.”

The Moroz family has also picked up new hobbies in Alaska, like fishing, riding four-wheelers, hunting and even beekeeping.

“Things like this add a taste to life,” Vladimir said.

The family is on humanitarian parole until 2026. They’ve applied for temporary protected status and are waiting for a response.

Natalia said she is feeling nervous about the recent changes in immigration programs, but she trusts that God has a plan for them.

Learning the language

Agnesa Butenko, 18, is Oleksii and Natali’s oldest daughter. She said she always wanted to move to America, but she didn’t realize how hard it would be to leave her friends and adjust to a place where she didn’t speak the language. But she was touched by Alaskans’ hospitality.

“People are extremely kind, and even if you don’t understand the language and you are different, people accept you,” she said. “It makes such a difference.”

Her English has improved so much in three years that she now works as a translator for the school. She helps other Ukrainians – often her family members – adjust to the new language and environment.

“It’s helpful for me, too, because I need more practice to speak English,” she said about her work.

About 30 Ukrainian students have enrolled in Delta’s schools since the war started. The district offers classes in English as a second language as well as translation services and after-hours tutoring.

Amanda Turnbull, the English teacher, has spearheaded some of those programs. Sitting in a classroom surrounded with posters covered with words in English, Russian and Ukrainian, she said she’s seen rapid growth in her new students.

“I have had very few experiences like that in my career,” she said. “I feel so honored to have worked with Agnesa, so honored to have worked with these kids. It is difficult, it is challenging, but it’s amazing.”

Turnbull said if the families of her Ukrainian students don’t have a legal pathway to stay in the country, her ESL class of 10 will be empty. She said the loss would create a hole in the community and could endanger some of her students.

“It hurts my heart so much to think of these high school boys who would, who could, at the drop of a hat, get deported and end up back in Ukraine,” Turnbull said. “They can’t leave again. These ninth graders can’t leave again. What’s going to happen to them? They’re going to get conscripted.”

Putting down roots

Before leaving Ukraine, the Butenko family used to help people who passed through their town while fleeing the war zone. Natali and Oleksii would walk by the long chain of cars, offering tea and sandwiches and inviting the refugees to rest or shower at their house.

Some of their friends are still in Ukraine, but Natali said she won’t go back — even if her family has to leave the U.S. She said she doesn’t want her children to go to war. 

For now, the Butenkos are continuing to build a life in Delta Junction. They live outside of town, on a wooded property with four homes. Five families live there, all from Ukraine – about 40 people total.

And the Butenkos have already buried family here. After settling in Delta, they wanted to bring Natali’s mother over, too. She was sick with cancer, living in Lithuania after fleeing Ukraine.

She died on her way to Alaska.

“Because it happened on the plane, it’s been hard for us to process that she died,” Oleksii said. “Every time we pass the cemetery, we think about our mom living here, being here. It’s hard for us to comprehend. But that’s all right – everything is in God’s hands.”

The family recently bought their own piece of land in Delta to build a future home – two stories, just like the one they left in Ukraine.

This is Lingít Word of the Week. Each week, we feature a Lingít word voiced by master speakers. Lingít has been spoken throughout present-day Southeast Alaska and parts of Canada for over 10,000 years.

Gunalchéesh to X̱’unei Lance Twitchell, Goldbelt Heritage Foundation and the University of Alaska Southeast for sharing the recorded audio for this series.

This week’s word is geesh, or bull kelp. Listen to the audio below to learn how to say geesh.

The following transcript is meant to help illustrate the words and sentences. 

Ḵaakal.áat Florence Marks Sheakley: Geesh. 

That means bull kelp.

Here are some sentences:

Ḵaakal.áat Florence Marks Sheakley: Yakʼéi áyá geesh wán daak adustʼéix̱i.

It is good to go out fishing at the edge of the bull kelp.

Keihéenák’w John Martin: Yá yéil sh kalneegí áyá geesh daax̱ woogoodí yéil.

There is a Raven story where Raven went around the bull kelp. 

Keiyishí Bessie Cooley: Éilʼ héen yíkx̱ yaa kana.éin wé geesh.

Kelp is growing in the ocean.

Kooshdáakʼu Bill Fawcett: Dliwkát latín wé geesh líl a káx̱ eeḵooxúḵ!

Watch that bull kelp; donʼt go over it! 

Kaxwaan Éesh George Davis: Héen x̱ʼakee yoo liháshk geesh.

The bull kelp floats on the water.

You can hear each installment of Lingít Word of the Week on the radio throughout the week. 

Additional language resources:

Find biographies for the master speakers included in this lesson here.

Learn more about why we use Lingít instead of Tlingit here.

Watch a video introducing Lingít sounds here.

A special visitor touched down at Ted Stevens Anchorage International Airport on April 24. Daren Herman, grandson of Alaska flag designer Benny Benson, was in the state for the first time to accept an honorary degree on his late grandfather’s behalf. It had been almost a century since Benson’s unlikely win in a flag design contest for Alaska schoolchildren.

Herman descended the airport lobby escalator to a crowd cheering, singing the Alaska Flag Song, waving the iconic blue and gold starred banner, and performing traditional Unangax̂ dances. He knew there would be a reception, but not how big it would be.

“I can’t even put words to it. I would have never dreamt anything like this,” he said. “This is just awesome, it’s crazy.”

Herman is from North Dakota, but has deep family roots in Alaska. His grandfather was the boy who overcame unlikely odds and prejudice to become the first and only known Native person to design an American state flag. Benson died in 1972 at age 59, and received an honorary doctorate in humane letters from Alaska Pacific University on April 26.

Mike Livingston, a regional historian whose work centers on overlooked Alaska Native stories in the Aleutians and beyond, served as Herman’s guide. He showed Herman around Anchorage, bringing him to local landmarks, including those named after Benson.

Livingston is a fixture of cultural justice efforts in the region he calls home. He played a part in recognizing the World War II service of Unangax̂ soldier Pfc. George Fox, and in bringing traditional Unangax̂ names back to Aleutian sites with offensive monikers like “Nip Hill” and “Nazi Creek.” He was also part of a team recognized by the Alaska press corps last month for shedding light on the state’s Missing and Murdered Indigenous People.

“It brings me a lot of satisfaction to recognize our heroes who have, in a real sense, been forgotten,” Livingston told KUCB.

He spent years researching Benson’s life and heritage, and was the lead author of a 2022 paper that sought to correct a misconception that Benson was Alutiiq or Sugpiaq, not Unangax̂. Livingston pushed to have Benson posthumously enrolled as a member of the Qawalangin Tribe of Unalaska, which was approved the same day Benson’s grandson landed in Alaska.

Livingston said Benson receiving an honorary doctorate is “pretty dang cool.”

“He really should have received it when he was still with us, but it’s never too late to correct wrongs,” he said.

Benson grew up in the Jesse Lee Home for Children, a boarding school in Unalaska that later moved to Seward. He experienced firsthand discrimination during the flag design contest when a panel of judges, some of whom were members of the Seward press, wrote offensive things about him based on his ethnicity. This lit a spark in him, and in the 1960s, he successfully advocated for his inclusion in the Kodiak Elks Lodge, opening the door for other Alaska Natives to join the Elks.

Livingston called Benson “a positive role model.”

“He was a brave young man who stayed in the contest and won the contest,” he said. “If it hadn’t been for Benny, we probably would have another boring state flag with a blue background and the state seal in the middle of it.”

At the commencement, around 120 graduates were recognized, including Benson.

Alaska Pacific University President Janelle Vanasse credited his contributions to the state.

“Today, we Alaskans are proud of our flag. Our state song echoes the words that young Benny submitted with his very design,” she said. “We have our flag because of Benny’s resolve.”

The room was packed with family and friends of the graduates, many of whom are Alaska Native. Herman walked onstage and accepted his grandfather’s doctorate to applause.

After the ceremony, Herman said as busy as it was, his first visit to Alaska was “awesome” and a learning experience.

“A lot of this stuff’s new to me, and it’s great to hear the story and be a part of it,” he said.

KTOO’s Adelyn Baxter contributed reporting.