While standing in the slushy snow, with snow machines buzzing past her, Helen Eckelman shares a valuable lesson she learned about Yup’ik Eskimo culture over a decade ago. After teaching in the village for several months, some families invited her to visit. However, they seemed hesitant to extend another invitation. Eventually, someone explained to her that she didn’t know when it was time to leave and that she talked too much. Eckelman, with the frozen Kuskokwim River in the background, reveals that the Yup’ik Eskimo idea of hospitality is to eat and then for visitors to go home.
Currently, Eckelman is comfortable in her adopted village, exchanging waves with everyone she passes on the town’s only road. However, her pale skin and curly brown hair will always make her an outsider here, where few educators stay as long as she has in remote rural areas known as the Bush.
These educators face challenges commonly associated with low incomes and welfare dependence, whether in the slums of Detroit, the tenant farms of Alabama, or the banks of the Kuskokwim. However, they also encounter unique challenges, such as water that stains everything orange and a subsistence culture where words are spoken sparingly and social problems don’t have obvious solutions. Additionally, Bush teachers, who often come from outside the region, face philosophical and curricular dilemmas that wouldn’t arise in their home communities.
These dilemmas remain unresolved among the residents of the Yupiit school district’s three villages. The villages, located 390 miles west of Anchorage, have a total of 396 K-12 students and a teaching staff of 40. For them, transforming schools to align with Alaskan values is a crucial part of dealing with the opportunities, risks, and demands of the ever-advancing 21st century while preserving the rewards of an ancient subsistence culture.
Alexandra Appel, a teacher in the village of Akiak, who teaches 3rd and 4th graders, expresses this dual goal by asking, "How can we recognize someone’s identity while equipping them with the tools to become whoever they wish to be?" This objective is embraced in the district’s official mission statement. However, many educators question whether they can truly achieve either objective and if the two ideals are in conflict with each other.
Although the larger high schools and smaller buildings housing elementary classrooms in Akiachak, Akiak, and Tuluksak are built on stilts to prevent the heat from sinking them into the frozen ground, their interiors resemble any well-equipped American school, complete with computers and a basketball court. The significant differences are not immediately visible, as many educators can attest.
Eckelman, the principal of the Akiachak schools, explains that students who envision a future as salmon fishermen and caribou hunters often fail to see the value in learning algebra and have no motivation to pursue advanced subjects. "They believe, ‘I have my snow machine; I know how to hunt and fish.’ The boys, especially, find satisfaction in that," she says. "We simply don’t have anything to offer them."
Steve Dodson, a tall blond teacher who might be the only man in America teaching kindergarten, home economics, and coaching a boys’ basketball team, reveals that his players in Akiak are often late for practice because they have to chop wood or fetch water from a hole in the river ice and carry it home.
William Marley, the assistant principal of Akiachak, shares an anecdote about a student he helped secure an affordable tuition deal at a technical school in the Lower 48. The cost was only $50 per semester. However, the student went hunting two days before he was supposed to leave for school. "He just looked at me blankly when I asked him about it. That was subsistence. That was important," Marley says.
Yet, some residents worry that children who spend their time in classrooms are not learning traditional skills. Another teacher from Akiachak explains, "They’re in school during the time they should be learning how to make fish traps, and the older people complain that the kids don’t respect traditions or their elders. Well, I can’t teach them that. It’s not my responsibility."
Educators in Tuluksak, the furthest village upriver among the three Yupiit villages, are facing the reality of state initiatives promoting school-to-work programs. Gilbert Campbell, the town’s school counselor and physical education teacher, acknowledges the demand for carpenters and welders but believes that both vocational training and college may not be realistic goals for the community at the moment. Despite the challenges, residents involved in the school’s affairs strive for the best of both worlds.
One of these leaders is Michael Williams, who successfully navigates between different worlds. As a member of both the Yupiit district’s school board and the state school board, he discusses education reform and finance equity using education policy jargon. Williams is also an avid breeder and racer of competitive sled dogs, a sport predominantly embraced by the white community. Furthermore, he works as a substance-abuse counselor within the government bureaucracy. However, his primary identity and language are rooted in Yup’ik culture. Williams chooses to live in Akiak, his birth village, where he built his own house, in order to raise his children with a strong sense of their cultural heritage.
While preserving their language and culture is important to Williams, he believes that providing the best education possible for his children and other village children is equally crucial, whether they choose to stay in the community or pursue postsecondary education or vocational training. For Williams, education is the key to the survival of his people. Nevertheless, it is apparent that Alaska’s Bush schools face significant challenges in achieving worthy goals.
Standardized test scores in the Bush region are alarmingly low. State statistics reveal that a majority of students in the Yupiit district score below the 25th percentile on the Iowa Tests of Basic Skills. Some years and subjects even see single-digit averages. While almost all students graduate from high school, only a few have gone on to college, as recalled by teachers and administrators who have worked in the Yupiit villages for several years. The situation in other districts in the region is similar, with slightly higher scores and more college-bound students in the larger neighboring Lower Kuskokwim district. However, this district also includes the cosmopolitan enrollment of Bethel, a regional hub with a substantial white population.
John Weise, the superintendent of the Yupiit district, acknowledges the need for improvement, recognizing that previous days when reading or writing proficiency was not essential are now behind them. Although progress may be slow, observers note that the task of improving Bush education, as well as defining its purpose, is part of the transition of Alaska’s indigenous people from an isolated subsistence lifestyle to a more extensive and evolving relationship with the dominant American culture.
Alaska’s education system had a fragmented history until the 1970s. Missionaries initially established the first rural schools. Later, two parallel school systems were operated by the federal Bureau of Indian Affairs and the state government, while some larger towns had locally run schools.
"When the village schools were established, there was a significant decline in the quality of education, but there was an increase in the number of students who completed their studies," explains David Williams, a former teacher at a boarding high school in Bethel that attracted students from the surrounding area. "However, over time, the quality of education has improved." According to Williams, out of the approximately 300 seniors who graduate from village high schools in the Yukon and Kuskokwim regions each year, around 40 choose to enroll at his campus. He notes that their scores on college entrance exams, while still relatively low, have been steadily improving, as well as their basic skills.
Local educators are also able to observe gradual progress. "When I arrived here in the early 1980s, test scores were below the first percentile," says Eckelman, the principal of Akiachak. "We had students performing at grade levels that were considered negative numbers. Now, we have reached the 20’s in some areas."
However, for teachers on the ground, progress at such a slow pace can be difficult to perceive, and the challenges appear overwhelming. Eckelman, originally from Montana and drawn to rural settings, chose to move to Alaska after reading the book "I Heard the Owl Call My Name," which is set in the Arctic. It was only later that she discovered the story was about Canadian Eskimos. For elementary teacher Appel, the experience is seen as an adventure, similar to being in the Peace Corps.
On the other hand, counselor and PE teacher Campbell had a more practical reason for wanting to work in Alaska. As a native of Fairbanks, the second-largest city in Alaska, he desired a job in his home state. Despite the high turnover rate in rural areas throughout the state, Alaska remains a competitive job market for educators due to the high salaries, although the cost of living is also high. Many individuals are interested in working here.
Every educator faces a certain level of cultural shock in such a remote area like the Kuskokwim Delta. "I remember my son trying to change channels on the television remote control, and I had to explain to him that there’s only one channel," recalls Steve Dodson, a teacher of kindergarten and home economics. Serious shopping or a visit to a doctor or restaurant requires traveling to Bethel. Although it is only 15 miles from Akiachak and 40 miles from Tuluksak, the absence of roads makes the distance seem much greater. During winter, the journey can be made by dog sled or snow machine, or by taking one of the taxis that navigate the "ice road" along the river when conditions allow. However, these modes of transportation are unavailable in spring and fall when the ice melts.
Teachers’ accommodations have modern amenities such as hot running water, modern kitchens, and central heating, which are considered luxuries in remote villages. However, they pay high prices for what would be considered low-rent housing in a city. The cabinets show signs of wear, pipes are visible, and many fixtures are stained with a rusty orange color. "Can you believe this cost $6?" Appel exclaims as she attaches a plastic shade to a bare bulb hanging from her apartment’s low ceiling. She advises visitors to boil water before drinking and to think twice before washing anything light-colored in the washing machine.
Nevertheless, there are still some subtle barriers that exist. Yup’ik Eskimos have a tendency to only use the necessary words for practical purposes. They pass down their traditions and skills through demonstrations, ceremonies, and dances, which are not compatible with traditional teaching methods like lectures or class discussions. While young children in the community are outgoing and full of questions, high school students are surprisingly quiet, often needing encouragement from their teachers to participate.
Appel explains, "These students do not think in a linear and abstract manner, and unfortunately, our curriculum is linear and abstract." Another challenge for teachers is the cultural belief that authority is earned through age and standing in the local kinship network. As Campbell, the counselor in Tuluksak, puts it, "It’s difficult to be a teacher when nobody wants to listen to you." Additionally, villagers are often hesitant towards newcomers, including teachers, as their past experiences have shown that they don’t usually stick around. The average tenure for a teacher in rural Alaska is only about two years, and in Tuluksak, all but two of the eleven teachers were new this year.
Initially, some children would "test" the new teachers, especially the male ones, by misbehaving, even going as far as kicking them or spitting in their coffee. Patrick, a high school teacher, explains, "It’s not that they don’t like you; they just think you’ll leave." It took him two years before he started to gain the trust and acceptance of the students, and he now considers them his friends. The teachers who stay become integral parts of the community, engaging in activities outside of school and providing counseling on daily life, rather than just academic support.
Despite the challenges, the school plays a central role in the community, and the principals are constantly fielding requests and demands from various community members. The Eskimos’ strong connections to their families and home communities have the most significant impact on their educational achievement. This explains why very few students from the Yup’ik community go away to college or seek employment elsewhere. Leaving their home is seen as equivalent to death. Since 1985, only three Yupiit students have enrolled at Mount Edgecumbe High School in Sitka, and none of them stayed for long.
Educators also witness the negative aspects of the isolated and insular culture in the community. The district has the lowest high school graduation rate in the state, and rates of alcoholism, child abuse, teenage pregnancy, welfare dependency, and suicide are disproportionately high in rural Alaska. About 20 percent of the district’s students require special education, compared to the national average of 12 percent.
The role of parental encouragement plays a significant role in the education of village residents, according to Karen Don, a kindergarten teacher in Akiachak. Don, along with her mother, is one of the three local women who pursued higher education and returned to teach in the village. Her father, who also received postsecondary training, serves as the district’s maintenance chief. Don believes that many villagers stay in the village because their families need their help at home. Additionally, she thinks that some villagers lack the same role models she had and may not have been exposed to the outside world as much. Don’s journey to earning her degree from Alaska Pacific University took her ten years of intermittent attendance, a common pattern among educated village residents. Don sees herself as a role model within the Yup’ik community, proving that going to college and graduating is indeed possible.
There are Alaskans who argue that schools need to adapt more to the native culture. They believe that this adaptation is necessary both to pass on the skills required for village life and to make other options more accessible by making education more relevant. The principal of Akiak, Polson, expresses that they are actively working towards this goal, even as he takes a moment to sign a purchase order for rabbit snares.
In addition to the academic curriculum, traditional skills are also taught in the Yupiit and Lower Kuskokwim schools. Adult residents from the community come to teach essential practices like trapping, fishing, and skinning a caribou. Some schools have dedicated staff members who teach Yup’ik studies, such as Mary Ann Lomack who teaches high school girls in Akiachak how to make quilts and Eskimo dolls. The Yup’ik language is taught in all schools within the region, and the Lower Kuskokwim district has even introduced Yup’ik immersion programs, an initiative the Yupiit district is considering adopting if enough Yup’ik-speaking teachers can be found.
The Lower Kuskokwim district sees the highest percentage of native teachers, with 74 out of 268 certified teaching positions filled by natives. Scholarships are provided to teachers’ aides who wish to pursue degrees, and the University of Alaska actively recruits native individuals. The university also offers summer training programs for white teachers intending to work in rural Alaska. However, finding instructional materials that support the cultural aspects of education remains a challenge. To address this, the Yupiit district created custom readers focused on local topics. Teachers also strive to make lessons more relevant by incorporating projects and examples that students can easily relate to. For instance, shop students in Akiachak build dog sleds and gun racks, and the hallways of Akiak’s high school are adorned with a mural depicting tundra animals.
According to Charles Kashatok, the director of Yup’ik studies for the Lower Kuskokwim district, it is essential to make the curriculum relatable to the students’ experiences. Many of these students have never seen apartment buildings, trains, cows, or pigs, so reading materials that reference these unfamiliar concepts do not resonate with them. Kashatok emphasizes the importance of using problems and examples that are relevant to the students’ lives so that they can learn to think, reason, and solve problems effectively. While the core curriculum may resemble that of schools in the Lower 48, the implementation and contextualization of lessons must be tailored to the unique cultural and environmental context of the Alaskan villages.
During a gathering of approximately 200 educators and parents, it was stated that the reading levels of parents often impact the reading levels of their children. One individual, Weise, who is of Eskimo descent and comes from Bethel, concurred with the belief that traditional values and knowledge should be taught alongside the Western curriculum. He emphasized the importance of preparing students for success by mastering the skills necessary in both worlds. Weise expressed his goal of raising awareness about the relevance of test results from outside Alaska in order to address the concerns of parents regarding their children’s reading, writing, and arithmetic abilities.
Despite superficial appearances, the educators were actually in agreement with each other. They recognized the need to prepare Yup’ik children for the future, and wondered whether they should focus on integrating them into the American mainstream or preserving their culture within the village. The educators were especially worried about the survival of the villages once federal welfare reforms were implemented, as the reforms would limit adult benefits to a period of only two years. In response, Alaska was exploring community-service alternatives for the unemployed individuals in the Bush.
Michael Williams, a state and local school board member, stressed the importance of providing an education that would enable individuals to be self-sufficient and not reliant on public assistance or other programs. He highlighted the need for various professionals in the villages, ranging from teachers to medical providers, equipment operators, pilots, carpenters, and accountants. Williams also acknowledged the importance of having well-educated hunters and fishermen in the community.
Carole Seyfrit, a sociology professor, conducted a survey in 1995 among students in rural Alaska, specifically in Yupiit high schools. Despite a high percentage (90%) expressing their intention to attend college, only a few individuals from the community actually pursued higher education. Seyfrit noted the conflicting sentiments between the desire to go to college and the pull to remain in the village. These responses could indicate uncertainty or the possibility of different paths at different stages of life. However, Seyfrit also believed that these responses were evidence of changing attitudes and significant social changes on the horizon, which raised questions about the implications for the villages.
Some individuals approached the issue from a non-scientific standpoint. Kasayulie, the school board chairman, emphasized the importance of Yup’ik children having an understanding of both the native culture and the American way of life. He viewed it as crucial for the future of the villages, as these children would be responsible for running them. The mission was to provide education in survival techniques and support individuals who left the communities to seek employment in larger cities. Kasayulie acknowledged that while some individuals may choose not to return, there would always be a place for those who did.
In summary, the educators and parents at the gathering emphasized the importance of addressing the reading levels of parents to improve their children’s reading abilities. They recognized the need to blend traditional values and knowledge with the Western curriculum and prepare students for success. However, they also grappled with the dilemma of whether to integrate Yup’ik children into the American mainstream or preserve their native culture in the villages. Concerns about the villages’ ability to survive under new federal welfare reforms were also discussed, prompting officials to explore community-service alternatives. The goal was to provide an education that would enable self-sufficiency and allow individuals to contribute to the community in various professional capacities. Finally, the survey conducted among students highlighted the conflicting sentiments between attending college and staying in the village, leading to questions about the future implications for the villages.
