Harvesting Light: Illuminate the Story: AK-Day 19/20 Noatak to Kivalina

AK-Day 19/20 Noatak to Kivalina

A winter storm is brewing outside as the windows whistle and creak, giving to the wind’s fury. A perfect “A” pitch whistle woke me a few times before I closed the offending window to the kindergarten classroom in McQueen school in Kivalina. The weather forecast calls for a winter storm with winds gusting above 40mph, and snow depth ranging from 6”-10”. Could this be the first snow to stick this season?

The peeled paint, exposed sub floor, and crumbling acoustic tile contrast sharply with a glistening smart board, personal macbooks for high schoolers, and wireless routers. Kivalina is at a watershed moment with the Chukchi Sea rising slowly due to global warming, and more importantly, the ice that typically shields Kivalina from the fury of the wind off the sea stays liquid longer and can than threaten the homes with flooding during late fall storms. Will Kivalina be able to deal with this rapid change or will it find itself adrift culturally and physically?

The Wulik River meets the Chukchi Sea

Rocks were bulldozed on the shore to create a barricade against the wrath of the Chukchi

They will not build a new school at Kivalina, because the town may not be here long enough to support the school. The school district cited falling enrollment when it scuttled its planned renovation of the school this past summer. Taking pictures I noted plenty of primary school kids and the number of students dwindling as I worked my way through the grades until there was just 4 seniors in a PK-12 school of 122 enrolled. Two of the seniors were pregnant. Qatuk, one of the 5^th year seniors who had buckled down the past couple years so that he’ll graduate this year, helped me shepherd the students to Dr. Al Fant’s science classroom. I took about every students’ and staffs’ portrait in the span of just over two hours. Some of them I took twice, a common occurrence in the bush, where “prepay” just doesn’t have that sound of urgency. So I’ve learned over time to enlist help with signing in the “retakers” so that their image will have “their wishes” as I’ve learned to term the: 1) pose selection, 2) color of the background, 3) package options etc. Qatuk has a light schedule, only coming in for half of the day to take a few classes. He kept order and noted any errors on the alpha cards, he knew everyone’s name. After finishing up school pictures I would quickly break down to setup for community pictures that would start at 5:30 pm. This would be another twelve hour plus day…

I began the day in Noatak, which is over the hills and east from here. After waking up from a good night’s rest cushioned on a mattress, rather than a thermarest, I felt refreshed. After packing up, and getting together a few breakfast snack items I was off to the library to reconfigure my studio from a family portraits’ set from the night before to the school portrait set. This would probably take at least twenty minutes. Fifteen minutes in I went back towards my room to find that the door was locked to that wing of the building that my posh classroom suite was on. So I went back to setting up with unfresh breath that I masked with some good earth tea, yum! Right as I was finishing up, a teacher that I told to meet me for his portraits just before 9 am was asking if I was ready. I told him I would be ready in a few minutes and noted that he was early. After finishing his portrait, the cafeteria staff came over to foist today’s breakfast on me senza meat. They had learned I am a “veggie”, as they term it, and knew I wouldn’t be partaking of the commodity beef special of the day. One of the cafeteria staff’s son had his portrait taken yesterday, and I was a rock star to her after getting a beautiful portrait of her special needs’ son smiling, looking into the camera, and folding his hands by his lap with his wheelchair covered up with my perfectly-matching grey sweater. The principal at Noatak sent the cafeteria staff member back, to help finish up lunch service, she left unsure how the portrait would turn out. About five minutes later, I called her back, looking warily towards the office to see if the principal was looking over. Satisfied his attention was elsewhere I waved her over hurriedly and she sprinted across the cafeteria into the safety of the library screened by my background for the moment. She positively rejoiced upon viewing her son’s portrait, and ran back after using a passing class as cover before reaching her kitchen. My belly stuffed with two breakfast mini-meals between portrait sittings, I greeted a Inuit man with a full carhhart lined jumpsuit that was drenched in the smell of the nearby Red Dog Mine: diesel, oil, and metallic dust combined to announce his mining occupation. I made another portrait of his son with his “wishes”, he was satisfied, his break from the mine drawing to a close. He thanked me and gave me a hearty hand-shake as we looked each other in the eyes, I noticed a metallic bead in the corner of each of his eyes. Away he went to continue the unearthing of lead and zinc, and I was back to extracting smiles using my own tools: a smile, jokes, and a sense of humility.

The Road to Red Dog Mine near its port on the Chukchi Sea, the road allows 200 ton trucks to ferry their loads to the global market place

The day was flying along after setting up, taking pictures, doing paperwork and checking-in with the office, meeting with the principal to discuss picture day, and breaking down to load it on a truck to catch the morning flight to Kivalina, where I would setup for school pictures while eating lunch in one hand, take all of the pictures anticipating a low turnout with the blizzard approaching that night, and then breakdown the school portrait setup. Finally, setup for family portraits while eating dinner in one hand. This is what the Beatles call a “Hard Day’s Night”, but it would afford me two half days before traveling again back to Kotzebue, Nome, and then to Anchorage. This is all assuming that I will be able to fly out tomorrow in these conditions.

A blown-snow eye view of Kivalina

Anthony Baldwin, the maintenance guy at Kivalina took all my gear to the landing strip. An obstinate honda pulling a large trailer, the vehicle of choice in the bush until the cold and snow set in.

After an eventful community portrait session, which ended with me resetting up after half breaking down the studio. I took the last portrait session of Arthur Swan Sr. with his wife, and what I assumed was their grandchild, but I’ve been totally wrong so many times with relationships that I no longer use them to give directions on posing but rather rely on actual names or joke names that lighten the mood. Too many times I’ve called someone “ big brother” or “big sister” and they are the mother or father! Two-Thirds of the families that came down were “Swans”. These Swans came regaled in full beaver and wolf fur parkies.

The natives have the right to take many animals that white hunters and trappers are not allowed to hunt. For instance, seals and walruses can be hunted, and with the advent of the gun, and snow-go, (snowmobile). They just shoot, and snow-go up to it hoping it doesn’t sink, if the walrus sinks they just continue shooting until they get one. The spear and buoy method that insured little or no waste has been abandoned for convenience. This waste is frowned upon in some quarters of the community, but they are not listened to... there is not much in this landscape so they take what they can get, forgetting their ethic of not wasting meat. In many native traditions, the animal is viewed as giving their spirit so that the native community members could survive. The natives do not term the taking of game as "killing" the caribou, for instance, but rather they "catch" the caribou.

This seal carcass in Buckland has been here since summer, it was shot, but sunk, when it was recovered the meat was spoiled. It now sits outside Donald's house, a student I met in Buckland.

A hide drying out in the crisp 0 degree air on a honda, this hide will be fashioned into some clothing or accessory most likely

A boy waits with his grandfather at the Kivalina Landing Strip

My hope is that the Inuipaq would shed some of the bad cultural trappings they have embraced from white society and fill them with some of their more noble traditions. But it has to be their idea, and led by their elders or youth. The white teachers and other support staff from the outside bring the promise of learning, but these teachings, to be successful have to be supported by the community. What if there were more Inuipaq role models in the schools and the community was harnessed? Volunteers could teach their traditions and integrate that into the curriculum so that the various subjects could hold meaning. Right now they mean nearly nothing to most of the students I met. Who knows, I might see some of these students next year and some of them will have made a decision to learn and ultimately graduate. But I only capture them for that brief moment and then I'm gone. And Kivalina is no different.