Shgein Kyle Johnson and classmates guide a canoe through Angoon. Oct. 26, 2022. (Photo by Andrés Javier Camacho/KTOO)
Angoon High School students surrounded Wayne Price as he helped them guide a canoe down Angoon’s roads to the waterfront.
This dugout canoe, or yaakw, is special. It’s the first one built in Angoon in 140 years — that is, since Angoon was attacked and destroyed by U.S. military forces. Students who helped carve the canoe say the project helped them see their own resilience.
In 1882, the U.S. Navy bombarded Angoon, burned their clan houses and food stores and destroyed their canoes — except for one that was away from the village.
The people of Angoon — or Xutsnoowú Ḵwáan — were left for the winter with only one boat to fish and no shelter. It’s not known how many died as a result of this. But many of the families of those who survived are still in Angoon today.
The U.S. Navy has never apologized.
The bombardment happened along the waterfront where Price and the students walked, their hands steadying the boat as they wheeled it along.
Shgein Kyle Johnson, who helped carve the yaakw with Price, led songs for the procession. He and five other students fasted for a day as they steamed the canoe open last month. That’s the process of painstakingly adding hot rocks to the boat and using trapped steam to expand the inside. It can be a make-or-break moment for canoes.
“I am very, very proud of my teammates that helped me with the steaming process, and as a community just proud to finally have this new beginning,” Johnson said.
This yaakw is Shaagaa Eesh Anthony Johnson’s second. He was in Hoonah when Price worked with students there to carve a dugout.
Anthony said it feels different, being six years older this time.
“I was just putting wood on the fire then,” he said. “Now I’m one of the steamers taking out the rocks and stuff like that, and working on the canoe with Wayne.”
Price says the yaakw is seaworthy.
“All of the dugouts that I’ve built are ready and able to meet each other on the water, and what a day that will be,” he said.
Kyle’s mother, Kookeesh Tlaa Chenara Johnson, is a Lingít language teacher in the Chatham School District. She coordinated the youth who assisted in the yaakw carving. She says this history shows the resilience of the Xutsnoowú Ḵwáan.
“We’re still here, and our community is thriving,” she said. “And our students and our children are eager to learn and eager to carry on that part of our culture.”
Kyle says he’s hoping for more opportunities like this one.
“It’s a lot easier to learn about our culture and our traditional ways when it’s hands-on,” he said.
In the spring, the yaakw will be given a name and launched on the water for the first time — with Anthony, Kyle and several of their classmates aboard.
Jennifer Hanlon owns StrawBeary Boutique and designs beaded jewelry featuring blueberries and strawberries. (Photo by Wesley Early/AKPM)
The Alaska Federation of Natives arts and craft show returned in-person this year for the first time since 2019.
For Indigenous artists from across the state and Outside, it represented a welcome return to the market circuit. AFN’s show is the largest of its kind in the state.
Inside the exhibit hall at the Dena’ina Center in downtown Anchorage, hundreds of people milled around, gazing at the array of tables displaying Alaska Native and American Indian artwork.
Jennifer Hanlon lives in Ketchikan. She’s Lingít and originally from Yakutat. She makes jewelry, selling her earrings through her business StrawBeary Boutique.
She said she started beading while attending college in the Lower 48 as a way to feel connected to home, creating designs with blueberries, strawberries and flowers common to Southeast Alaska.
During the pandemic, she used the extra time she had stuck at home to start up again. This was her first AFN selling her work at the market.
“It’s good to finally have an opportunity to be in-person and to just see friends and family from across the state for this beautiful gathering and just feeling reconnected to everyone during a very trying time of our collective chapter in our lives,” Hanlon said.
A steady stream of patrons kept Hanlon busy throughout the market.
Earl Atchak from Chevak carves bone and ivory masks and dolls. His Mary Peltola doll attracted a lot of attention at this year’s AFN arts and craft market. (Photo by Wesley Early/AKPM)
Earl Atchak is Cup’ik Eskimo from Chevak. He’s carved ivory and bone masks and dolls for 40 years. During AFN, he proudly displayed an 18-inch Mary Peltola doll with an ivory face, a kuspuk and fur-lined boots.
“I’ve done different kinds of dolls, and every time I make a political doll, that person seems to always win,” Atchak said.
He said he carved Sen. Lisa Murkowski in 2010 when she was running as a write-in candidate. Then he did the same thing for former Lt. Gov. Byron Mallot when he dropped out of the governor’s race in 2014 to join Bill Walker as his running mate.
This time around, he caved to peer pressure.
“I told these political doll stories to my friends in the steam bath. One of them said ‘you better make a Mary Peltola doll!’” he said.
Atchak said more than 150 people had come by to take a picture of the doll on the first day of the market. Rep. Peltola herself also stopped by.
“Hopefully it’ll go viral,” he said.
Atchak said his business stayed afloat during the pandemic thanks to collectors, who are always interested in buying his work. Still, he hoped to make as much as $50,000 over the course of the three-day event.
Other artists came from as far away as Arizona. Many expected to completely sell out of their stock before the final day on Saturday.
The Aciluq dancers yuraq at Quyana Night at the Dena’ina Center on October 20, 2022. (Photo by Elyssa Loughlin/Alaska Public Media)
Quyana is the Yup’ik word for “thank you,” but it takes on a whole new meaning during the Alaska Federation of Natives convention.
During the convention’s Quyana Alaska performances, hundreds of people gather to watch Native dance groups from across the state perform the songs of their communities.
What made this year extra special: It was the first time the dancers have performed since 2019, after back-to-back cancellations due to the COVID-19 pandemic. Anticipation was high. People stood in line for hours Thursday morning to get tickets, which sold out quickly.
They packed a third floor auditorium later that night.
The Alaska Native Heritage Dancers perform for the first Quyana Night in three years at the 2022 AFN conference, at the Dena’ina Center, in Anchorage, Alaska on October 20, 2022. (Photo by Elyssa Loughlin/Alaska Public Media)
The Alaska Native Heritage Dancers took the stage at Anchorage’s Dena’ina Center first. The group is made up of dancers from across the state — many of them Heritage Center interns, performing for a packed crowd for the first time. As dancers waved fans to the fierce pounding of drums, the crowd gathered to the front row to watch, sometimes joining in on one of the invitational dances.
On the floor below Thursday evening, Tariek Oviok laced up his mukluk boots in preparation for his group to take the stage. Oviok is from the Inupiaq village of Point Hope, about 150 miles northwest of Kotzebue. He said he’s been coming to Quyana dances as a part of the Tikigaq Dancers since he was a kid.
“‘94 was the first time I think I got to go on the plane with the dance group,” Oviok said. “And then we did a couple other ones during my high school, so that’s three. Then after that, I became the dance group leader in 2001.”
Tariek Oviok takes the stage with the Tikigaq Dancers at the Dena’ina Center on October 20, 2022. (Photo by Elyssa Loughlin/Alaska Public Media)
He said he’s performed at Quyana about a dozen times. He estimated that there’s more than 120 dances his village has passed down over generations.
“All the dances that we do are all from Point Hope,” Oviok said. “We might have a couple that are from the Little Diomede area that have been traded and agreed upon by elders long ago before me. It’s kind of a thing, out of respect they do that.”
Oviok said the dances represent many different stories, including family dances passed down, dances for ending the New Year and celebrating the full moon. He said a hard part of the last two years has been reckoning with the loss of loved ones in the community. One of the dances the Tikigaq Dancers performed was in tribute to a dance group member who passed away recently. It was performed by his wife and siblings.
The Tikigaq Dancers mourn the recent loss of their dancer during Quyana Night on October 20, 2022. (Photo by Elyssa Loughlin/Alaska Public Media)
“We’ve had a lot of lost loved ones in our communities, you know,” Oviok said. “If I could sum it all up, I could tell you right here’s a walking example. This is how much I missed it. I paid my best friend’s fare over there from Nome, Alaska to come here and perform with us.”
While some dancers have performed at Quyana for many years, others, like Elizabeth Tugatuk, were performing at AFN for their first time. Tugatuk is from Toksook Bay and has been a part of the Chefornak-based Yup’ik dance group Acilquq for about five years.
“I’ve never done a big performance,” Tugatuk said. “It’s my first time.”
Tugatuk and her fellow dancers were sweating after their performance, lining up at a water cooler and immediately changing out of their heavy performance regalia. While she was nervous ahead of the performance, Tugatuk said it was all worth it.
“To be up there,” Tugatuk said, “to enjoy our heritage, up there on the stage, and share with everyone, with our ancestors around us, it was amazing.”
A dancer holds a Tlingit drum during the Mount St. Elias dancers’ performance at Quyana Nights. (Photo by Elyssa Loughlin/Alaska Public Media)
Excitement remained high among all the groups, including the Qikiqtagruk Northern Lights Dancers from Kotzebue. Martin Lee Woods is one of the leaders of the group, having performed at Quyana off and on most years since the first AFN in 1979. He said coming to AFN and seeing friends from across the state adds to the joy of his dance performance.
“For a Native to attend gatherings and to sing and dance, and tell stories and feast and play games, it’s a way to lift your spirit,” Woods said. “Long dark months up here, above the Arctic Circle.”
The Tikigaq Dancers take the stage at the Dena’ina Center for the first Quyana Night in three years on October 20, 2022. (Photo by Elyssa Loughlin/Alaska Public Media)
Woods said it’s not just a delight for the performers. After a rough couple years, he said dancing can bring a catharsis to audience members, to help them endure and remain resilient.
“We grieve, we struggle, but you lift your spirit,” Woods said. “Go home smiling, ready to go back to work and tackle the world. This is what it’s all about”
Performers graced the Quyana stage until 11 p.m. Thursday night, with another slate of groups, and crowd, preparing to dance all night Friday.
Dancers from Sand Point perform at the Alaska Native Heritage Center in Anchorage on Sunday, Oct. 16, 2022. (Rhonda McBride/KNBA)
The Elders and Youth Conference is underway in Anchorage this week, back to what it used to be – a time for both young and old to make a personal connection through their love of Alaska Native culture.
For the last two years, the pandemic kept them from meeting in person. But on Sunday, the First Alaskans Institute held a “Warming of the Hands” reception at the Alaska Native Heritage Center to celebrate the start of the conference, now in its 39th year.
The head of the Alaska Native Tribal Health Consortium thanked the institute for requiring masks and proof of vaccination. Valerie Nurr’araaluk Davidson says the end of a pandemic is still a risky time, so the extra protection is needed – but says she won’t let it stop her from enjoying her favorite dance.
“It’s the one that goes, as you’re walking along – step, step, hug. Step, step, hug. Step, step hug,” Davidson said. “And you just repeat it constantly throughout the week, and it feels so incredible. It’s affirming.”
This is Mason Kvasnikoff’s first Elders and Youth Conference. The 17-year-old from Sand Point says he’s not taking anything for granted.
“I think what’s really special about this Elders and Youth (Conference) is how we are bouncing back, getting out from a time where we have been alone for so long.” Kvasnikoff said. “Just coming together is such a special thing.”
The conference runs through Wednesday at the Dena’ina Center, followed by the Alaska Federation of Natives convention on Thursday.
Monday’s keynote speech is from Christianna Edwards, a 19-year-old Lingít and Haida student from Juneau. She attends the Gallaudet University College for the Deaf.
The theme for this year’s gathering is “Xuu’ts’udeelken iin,” which means “Relatives of Ours” in the Tanacross language spoken in Interior Alaska. Organizers say it’s meant to rekindle the deep sense of community the gathering inspires – a connection between each other and the land.
Jolene Sutherland, left, and Dena’ina elder Helen Dick at a Kenai Peninsula College Dena’ina language class in 2014. Dick is one of the few Dena’ina language speakers around who learned the language as a child. (Photo by Jenny Neyman/Redoubt Reporter)
Learning any language can be intimidating, at the outset.
Will Norton, a Dena’ina community language teacher with the Kenaitze Indian Tribe, said sometimes getting started is the hardest part. That’s what he’s hoping to tackle at a virtual Dena’ina language workshop later this month.
“Although this course really is just the basics, what we’re trying to do is give people a platform to really start learning and to go as far as they want to,” he said.
The Kenaitze Indian Tribe received a two-year Emergency Native Language grant from the American Rescue Plan Act to hold free Dena’ina language workshops for beginners.
The series is part of a mosaic of language revitalization work from the Kenaitze Indian Tribe. The tribe recently launched a virtual Dena’ina Audio Dictionary and is continuing to offer language courses for adults, through Kenai Peninsula College, and language lessons for kids, at its new educational campus in Kenai.
“There’s kind of a gap, in terms of classes for adults who aren’t necessarily interested or able to take a college course for a full semester,” Norton said. “And that’s a pretty big group of people. So we’re trying to meet the gap with these classes.”
This is the second of three community language workshops through the federal grant. The first was in-person — but Norton said the community wanted a virtual workshop, too.
Norton and co-instructor Yvonne Flynn will brief attendees on Zoom on basic Dena’ina greetings, introductions and vocabulary.
“It’s not the sort of thing where you have to become fluent,” Norton said. “That takes a lot of work and a lot of time, and of course we encourage anyone who wants to to do it.”
But he said even learning a phrase here and there can be valuable — for Dena’ina people and others who live on Dena’ina land.
“It’s still important to know at least a little bit of the language of the place where you live,” he said.
The Dena’ina language workshop is Oct. 25 and 27, from 5 to 6:30 p.m. The workshop is free and will be fully remote, over Zoom.
Norton said if the workshops are successful, they’ll consider some longer-term offerings, as well. He said they’re already planning workshops that will cover advanced grammar, as well as vocabulary related to the Native Youth Olympics, next spring.
Last month, Arias Hoyle and a videographer out of Anchorage traveled across Kachemak Bay to capture videos of K-12 students in the small community of Nanwalek. (Photo courtesy of Arias Hoyle)
Juneau-based Lingít artist Arias Hoyle released a music video Friday featuring students from Nanwalek — a predominantly Sugpiaq/Alutiiq village on the southwestern tip of the Kenai Peninsula that is only accessible by air and water.
Hoyle, a hip-hop recording artist known by his stage name Air Jazz, traveled to the community to film the video in September as part of a residency with the Bunnell Street Arts Center in Homer.
Hoyle became involved with the arts center back in 2019, shortly before the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic. He recently produced an album entitled “Last Chance Chilkat” on behalf of the first peoples of Alaska.
“I often combine my Indigenous language, the Lingít from my people, with rap and hip-hop music,” Hoyle said. “I really like to do projects that are inclusive of Indigenous people, especially around Alaska. And I really like to manifest both my Lingít side and my African-American side into music. Essentially, I make Afro-Indigenous hip-hop.”
Hoyle performed in Nanwalek three years ago, as the community was experiencing a severe drought. Nanwalek got only a fraction of its normal rainfall, so local officials shut off water for 12 hours every night and the state issued a boil water notice.
Asia Freeman, artistic director at the Bunnell Street Arts Center, said Hoyle asked if he could teach his song “You’re The North Star” through an Artists in Schools program, which places professional artists in K-12 classrooms throughout the Kenai Peninsula School District.
“A few years back, we had brought Arias with the Indigenous Roadshow to Nanwalek, and the village just adored him and basically invited him back,” she said.
Last month, Hoyle and Hanna Craig, a videographer out of Anchorage, traveled across Kachemak Bay to capture videos of K-12 students in the small community.
“Day by day, we mapped out all of these locations, and all of these sports that we wanted the students to be a part of,” Hoyle said. “Then we rolled the camera, had them do all types of activities at their school, in the middle of class. And we tried to capture as many as possible.”
Hoyle said they wanted to focus on everyday activities in the village during the week he was there, from kids four-wheeling and playing basketball to making arts and crafts.
Hoyle said the song and video are dedicated to Nanwalek. His hope for “You’re The North Star” is to acknowledge and inspire the youth of small villages.
Major efforts to revitalize Indigenous cultures, languages and ways of life have taken root in recent years. Hoyle sees his music as part of that.
“When it comes to music, it’s a more accessible way to revitalize your people, because you’re taking an art style that everyone appreciates, and you’re doing your own Indigenous twist on the music,” he said. “And when it comes to me, representing the Black community as much as the Lingít community, that’s why I chose rap music. I think hip-hop and rap is so expressive, and it’s so fun, yet it still has a lot of representation of who I am. I love to rhyme and I love to sing in my native tongue.”
You can find Hoyle’s music on any of your favorite streaming platforms under the name Air Jazz.
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