Alaska Native Arts & Culture

The 45th Annual Native Youth Olympics wrapped up in Anchorage this weekend. More than 500 athletes from the furthest corners of the state were joined for the first time in decades by a foreign delegation, a team from the Yukon Territory in Canada. The tournament continues to grow, which organizers believe is a reflection of more deliberate efforts to promote traditional values across the state.

The seal-hop is one of 10 events jammed into three days of competition, held for the first time ever on the arena floor of the Alaska Airlines Center. And while it’s thrilling, it can be hard to watch high-schoolers in push-up pose bounce on knuckles and fists for dozens of feet before collapsing. It’s supposed to hurt.

“Seal hop is an endurance game,” explained Marjorie Tahbone, a coach from Nome and former NYO champion. “It also is a game that tests your ability to handle pain.”

The NYO games are adaptations of traditional practices and competitions rooted in subsistence.

“If you can imagine a long time ago, the young hunters would have to go out and they would have to stalk the seal, and they would have to get as close as possible in order to harpoon it,” Tahbone said, “the seal-hop was invented just for that purpose.”

The games were a way for hunters to keep their bodies in shape during the cold, dark winter months. Some, like the Indian stick-pool, were good practice for the strong wrists you need grabbing salmon by the tail on a fish wheel. Others have evolved to carry different lessons. The one foot high kick was originally a way to signal a successful hunt from far across the sea ice.

Though nowadays, Tahbone said, the real lesson is concentration, “Which was and is still is so important to surviving out in the Arctic when you’re hunting, and when you’re waiting for that seal patiently and trying to stay focused. Because if you don’t pay attention you’re going to miss it, you’re going to lose your chance to feed your family, you’re going to miss it. And that directly applies to our life now.”

Tahbone and many of her fellow coaches believe the games are a way of protecting and reinforcing the value system that was built into the subsistence cultures spread across Alaska. And though the hunting methods have changed, the values are durable.

“The games still definitely connect us to the way we hunt today,” said Nick Hanson, who has coached in Unalakleet for six years, “it is driven by the ancestors and by the traditions that we’ve held for years and years and years, but we now hunt with boats and guns instead of ice-hopping…but we still want the other hunter in the boat to be just as strong as we are, we still want to share what we catch with our community, and that’s what the games are all about.”

Hanson is a bit of an NYO super-star. He holds records, received an award this year for embodying traditional values, and even did a back-flip during the blanket-toss. He’s also appearing next month on the TV show American Ninja Warrior. But the athletics for him are just a fringe-benefit to the cultural connections that are part the games. One of his athletes, Makiyan Ivanoff, a senior in the Bering Strait School District, thinks NYO is different from other sports he plays because fundamentally it’s not about competition.

“I mean we’re competing against each other,” Ivanoff said after winning one-foot high kick, “but everybody is trying to max out, and everybody wants each other to max out and do their best.”

At the end of the tournament, Ivanoff also took home the Sportsmanship award.

Nicole Johnston is one of the chief organizers for the NYO, and held the record for women’s two-foot high kick for 25 years. Since her days competing, the tournament has tripled in size, in part because Alaskans are working more deliberately to protect Native values.

“People are a lot more concerned about preserving the culture now, with Western influences or influences from the Lower 48–they want to make sure that everybody is holding on to what they’ve learned from their elders,” Johnston said between hugs from athletes, parents, and coaches after the awards ceremony. “The games have actually grown because of that.”

Even the podium stresses the value of mutual strength. The top spot is too high to climb up without help from someone you beat on your way to the top.

The Cama-i festival packed the Bethel regional high school gym for a weekend of dancing, singing, and celebrating life in the YK Delta.
Traditional and modern dance groups from the YK Delta and native performers from across the country came to Bethel to express in song and dance the year’s timeless theme: Generations Celebrating Through Dance.

The Nelson Island dancers of Tooksook Bay have performers from 4th through 12 grade. Senior Deanna Jimmie says its dance is a way to keep their culture vibrant.

“It’s really important to keep our culture going. We’ve seen other villages lose their culture and language. So we try to speak to them in Yupik, encourage them to talk in Yupik, because we don’t want to use our culture and language,” said Jimmie.

Junior Byron Nicholoai says the young dancers are powerful. Their inspiration and guidance comes from their elders.

“Every friday an elder comes to the school talks about the Yup’ik culture and life, in Yup’ik and after that we have a dance, so they play a big role in our community,” said Nicholai.

The festival honored Dancer, artist, educator, and advocate Nengqerralria Chuna McIntyre with the Living Legend award. He’s the founder of the Nunamta Singers and Dancers.

“Dancing is like breathing, you do it because it’s part of you. It keeps you going. It keeps you alive,” said McIntyre.

Originally from Eek, McIntrye says he’s deeply humbled to receive the award. For him, the connection between those who taught before and those who now learn is direct.

“It is for them, it is for them. And then we think of the future generations who will come after us. We have a foundation, it’s important to have a firm foundation, to always to step on and stand on and to walk on, and be on that foundation,” said McIntyre.

Teaching the next generation happens now not just in village school gyms or family gatherings, but on smartphones and laptops across the globe. Bryon Nicholai’s over 15,000 Facebook fans would not fit into the Bethel gym, but it was evident that the Tooksook Bay teenager had a lot of real life “likes.”

Athabaskan and Tlingit, Crystal Worl has a background in ballet. But for the last year and half, she’s been intensely studying aerial performance. With a silk hung from the rafters, she performed gravity defying climbs, wraps and drops.

“As an aerialist you always have think about about your entire body, especially your feet. ‘Are my feet pointed.?’ I’m very finicky about my feet. I’m thinking about breathing and being in the moment, moving with the music, that’s the number one thing. And hanging on!,” said Worl.

As she masters her discipline, Worl plans to bring in her traditional storytelling and art.

“I’m a weaver and I see the silks as parallel to weaving. Weaving my body through it, creating loops and ties that will unravel as I drop or dive forward or sift through my piece,” said Worl.

19-year-old Mary Kernak was crowned Miss Cama-i. Originally from Napakiak, she also has family in Holy Cross. Kernak graduated last year from BRHS. She currently working in Bethel and saving up to earn both her pilots license and enter college. She ran on a platform of suicide awareness and prevention and promoting a drug and alcohol free lifestyle. She hopes to spend time with kids to connect them with positive and healthy lifestyles.

From up north, the King Island Dancers keep their home alive through song and dance. Sylvester Ayek of the King Island Dancers was born and raised on King Island, which no longer is inhabited.

“It bonds the unity among the King Island community, even if we’re not on King Island anymore. Song and dance help to keep us as one,” said Ayek.

Cama-i this year was dedicated to the late Bethel traditional dancer Janis Martha Guest.

Since 2008, the state has been in litigation with the Native Village of Tununak over the fate of a young girl in a case where parental rights were terminated. The state has held that because the girl’s grandmother did not file formal adoption paperwork in time, she lost the preference she would have been granted under the Indian Child Welfare Act.

Now, Gov. Bill Walker has rolled out emergency regulations that seek to prevent situations like this in the future. Native groups have long fought for the change.

With Julie Kitka, the president of the Alaska Federation of Natives by his side, Walker announced at a press conference that the state would make it easier for Alaska Native children to remain with extended family or with tribal members in adoption cases.

“We are going as far as we can with the emergency regulations, up to the statutory limitations now.”

With the way the Indian Child Welfare Act works, those groups get preference in adoption cases. But as it stands now, they have to exercise that right through prescribed application notices and legal proceedings.

That’s not always easy in villages where there are often no attorneys. Health Commissioner Val Davidson tried to convey just how challenging the whole process is by asking reporters questions in Yup’ik.

“I asked you in Yup’ik, ‘If you’re a person who wants to step forward, come now. Now is the time. Now is the only time you can do that,’” Davidson said after two seconds of silence. “That’s what families face in Alaska every day.”

Under the new regulations, which are effective immediately, individuals who get custody preference would be able to express their intent to adopt a child in need of aid in less formal ways. They could do it in person, over the phone, by post, or even just by e-mail. The administration has also drafted a bill that would put those rules into statute. If the legislation passes next year, it would make the policy more likely to hold in future administrations.

Alaska Federation of Natives President Julie Kitka thanked the governor for the change, and said it signified a shift in relations between the state and tribes. She said the new rules would have a noticeable impact on families.

“It’s real. It impacts children in our state today,” said Kitka.

But it won’t affect one child — the now seven-year-old Baby Dawn in the Tununak case. At the same time the administration is changing its stance on adoption cases, it is staying firm in its position in that litigation — which was one of the reasons for the regulatory change in the first place. In that case, a non-Native foster family adopted Dawn before her grandmother asserted her position under the Indian Child Welfare Act. The state argued that the Office of Children’s Services behaved appropriately

On Wednesday, the same day that the regulations were signed, Attorney General Designee Craig Richards filed in a brief in the Tununak case that went against the village’s desires. While the brief acknowledged that the state was moving toward more flexible policies for child placement, it still held its position that a child’s grandmother lost her adoption preference when she did not give a formal notice that she wanted to take the girl in.

Walker does not think that’s inconsistent, saying that the regulations cannot be applied retroactively.

“We can’t change, we can’t rewrite what was in place at that time,” said Walker. “We can rewrite the future.”

Walker added that Richards was involved in the drafting of the new regulations, despite his position in the Tununak case.

The plaintiffs in the case remain committed to a rehearing.

Southeast Alaska’s Central Council of the Tlingit and Haida Indian Tribes of Alaska is increasing its opposition to mines just across the border in British Columbia.

That’s what central Council President Richard Peterson told delegates during a State of the Tribe address on Wednesday during the council’s annual meeting in Juneau.

He urged delegates to challenge mines on rivers that flow through the region.

“I’m not against mining. But these mines are dangerous,” Peterson said. “They’re already putting poison into our rivers. If you’re not aware of it, please get informed, because it is going to significantly impact our way of life.”

Council officials already head up a tribal transboundary mines working group. They’ve also traveled to Washington, D.C., to lobby Alaska’s Congressional delegation. And they’ve gotten involved with several other organizations working to protect salmon in transboundary rivers.

Peterson said the council, as a sovereign government, will also approach the United Nations with its concerns. The central council has close to 30,000 Tlingit and Haida members in and outside the state. It’s Southeast Alaska’s largest tribal organization.

Peterson referred to the Red Chris Mine, which began processing ore this year in the Stikine River watershed.

“The Stikine River feeds right into Wrangell. But it’s all of Southeast. We’re talking about rivers, the Taku and Unuk, and we have to make sure we’re at the forefront there,” he said.

The Tulsequah Chief Mine, in the Taku River watershed, is leaking acidic water. It’s been closed for decades, but owners are trying to reopen it.

The Kerr-Sulphurets-Mitchell project is under development in the Unuk River watershed.

The Tlingit-Haida Central Council’s 80th Tribal Assembly runs through Friday in Juneau.

Members of the Kenaitze, health and social service professionals, and community members joined together last Friday at the Tyotkas Elder Center to talk about an issue that’s often kept in silence.

Alexandra, or Sasha, Lindgren is a Kenaitze elder. She’s sitting at the front of the room telling a story that’s deeply personal. She’s holding a bunch of toothpicks. She pulls one out and shows that when it’s alone, it’s easily breakable. But, when it’s surrounded by other toothpicks, the bunch as a whole is nearly impossible to break.

“Sharing my story, I hope will give someone the strength to come forward and say, I need help, and that together, each of us just by sharing our stories will break cycles of abuse and violence,” says Lindgren.

It’s like people, Lindgren says. It’s much easier to stand up when others are supporting you. That’s why she’s here today, to start a conversation in her community that she says desperately needs to happen.

“Traditionally, at least the way that I grew up out in Bethel, it’s not always talked about. But I think when the elders are able to talk about it, then maybe the young people are welcome to talk about it and be aware that violence is not okay,” says Lindsey Anasogak, who works for Na’ini Social Services and coordinated this event. “Na’ini Social Services is a department within the tribe. When we met before we formed the group, we talked about it for a while, and we came upon the word Na’ini which is a Dena’ina traditional value. And the meaning behind that is courage and bravery. We chose that for a reason and we wanted to make sure our clients who came in that we know that sometimes asking for help takes a lot of courage and to be brave to come in.”

Barbara Waters is here representing the LeeShore Center, which provides outreach and education on the issue and is also a safe haven for victims of domestic violence and sexual assault. She says public events like this are important because talking within a community is the first step toward solving the problem.

“We believe our victims, we listen to them, we honor their stories, and we thank them for what they share with us,” says Waters. “It brings awareness of the issue. Ms. Lindgren had a wonderful speech with us before we got started with the candlelight part of the vigil. And that awareness that there are people who have suffered from domestic violence and sexual assault, that it’s our neighbor, it’s our mother, it’s our sister, it might even be ourselves. So, I think that the community needs to get together and get involved and that’s the only way we’re going to see that problem go away.”

And it’s a big problem on the Kenai Peninsula. According to a 2013 survey conducted by the Council on Domestic Violence and Sexual Assault, out of every 100 adult women on the peninsula, 43 have experienced intimate partner violence, 30 have experienced sexual violence, and 52 – more than half – have experienced intimate partner violence, sexual violence, or both.

For Alaska as a whole, about 60 out of every hundred women have experienced some type of domestic or sexual violence.

“You know, when you go to all these type of awareness-type events, you go to trainings, you go to conferences and conventions, these numbers are brought up quite often and it’s something that nobody is proud of,” says David Knight, who also works with Na’ini Social Services.

He says the first time you hear the statistics, they are shocking. But sometimes, he says we get used to hearing them and we stop paying attention. He says all community members, male and female, victim, perpetrator, people don’t think they’re intimately connected with the issue need to remember that every number represents an individual person.

“I think that those numbers should drive us to do better,” says Knight.

And Sasha Lindgren says that by putting a face, a family, and a story on those numbers, perhaps more people will step forward to seek help, to provide help, or to just listen.

“We can overcome this. You’re not ever stuck being one thing and there is always an opportunity to change your life, make it better, make your life better, your community better, your tribe better. Bad does not always have to stay in charge,” says Lindgren.

It’s like the toothpicks, she says. A person may struggle alone but a community standing together has the strength to make real change.

 

If you or anyone you know needs help, the LeeShore Center has a 24-hour crisis intervention hotline at 907-283-7257.

About 500 athletes from elementary through high school will be at the Native Youth Olympics, which kicks off today in Anchorage.

Organizer Nicole Johnston says participants will be coming in from all over Alaska, and one team from Whitehorse, Yukon Territory, to carry on a tradition that has deep roots in Alaska Native cultures but was formally organized more than 40 years ago:

“Native Youth Olympics was started in 1971 by a group of boarding school students who had moved into the Anchorage area and wanted to keep the spirit of the games alive,” Johnston said. “What I mean by the spirit of the games is the traditions, the cultural, the heritage behind the games, the friendly competition that is seen by all spectators.”

Johnston says the games teach kids agility, endurance, strength – survival skills.

“You had to rely on your neighbor to survive as well. So these games really encourage the athletes to help each other go further, get higher, be stronger, be tougher, and that is the true essence and spirit of the games,” Johnston said. “And that’s what the boarding school students had in mind.”

Native Youth Olympics is free to the public, who can see games such as the Indian stick pull, kneel jump and wrist carry, but Johnston says a lot of people turn out for the kicking events, which are held towards the end of each day.

“We have the Alaskan high kick, on Friday we have the 2-foot high kick. And on Saturday we have the one foot high kick,” Johnston said. “Those are the three most popular events and crowd pleasers.”

The games begin today with a grand entry at 1 p.m. Hours are 10-7 on Friday, and 10-5 or 6 p.m. Saturday. There will also be arts and crafts sales and information booths. That’s all at the new Alaska Airlines sports stadium at the University of Alaska Anchorage.