Education Indigenous to Place: Western Science Meets Native Reality

By Angayuqaq Oscar Kawagley and Ray Barnhardt

Barnhardt, R. and O. Kawagley (1999). Education Indigenous to Place: Western Science Meets Indigenous Reality. Ecological Education in Action. G. Smith and D. Williams. New York, SUNY Press

Indigenous peoples throughout the world have sustained their unique worldviews and associated knowledge systems for millenia, even while undergoing major social upheavals as a result of transformative forces beyond their control. Many of the core values, beliefs and practices associated with those worldviews have survived and are beginning to be recognized as having an adaptive integrity that is as valid for today's generation as it was for generations past. The depth of indigenous knowledge rooted in the long inhabitation of a particular place offers lessons that can benefit everyone, from educator to scientist, as we search for a more satisfying and sustainable way to live on this planet.

Students in indigenous societies around the world have, for the most part, demonstrated a distinct lack of enthusiasm for the experience of schooling in its conventional formæan aversion that is most often attributable to an alien school culture, rather than any lack of innate intelligence, ingenuity, or problem-solving skills on the part of the students. The curricula, teaching methodologies, and often the teacher training associated with schooling are based on a worldview that does not always recognize or appreciate indigenous notions of an interdependent universe and the importance of place in their societies.

Alaska Native people have their own ways of looking at and relating to the world, the universe, and to each other. Their traditional education processes were carefully constructed around observing natural processes, adapting modes of survival, obtaining sustenance from the plant and animal world, and using natural materials to make their tools and implements. All of this was made understandable through thoughtful stories and demonstration. Indigenous views of the world and approaches to education have been brought into jeopardy with the spread of Western social structures and institutionalized forms of cultural transmission.

Recently, however, many Native as well as non-Native people are recognizing the limitations of the Western educational system, and new approaches are being devised. It is the intent of this chapter to contribute to our understanding of the relationship between Native ways of knowing and those associated with Western science and formal education, so we can devise a system of education for all people that respects the philosophical and pedagogical foundations provided by both indigenous and Western cultural traditions. While the examples used here will be drawn from the Alaska Native context, they are illustrative of the issues that emerge in any context where efforts are underway to reconnect education to a sense of place (Orr, 1994).

Indigenous Knowledge Systems

While Western science and education tend to emphasize compartmentalized knowledge which is often decontextualized and taught in the detached setting of a classroom or laboratory, Native people have traditionally acquired their knowledge through direct experience in the natural environment. For them, the particulars come to be understood in relation to the whole, and the "laws" are continually tested in the context of everyday survival. Western thought also differs from Native thought in its notion of competency. In Western terms, competency is based on predetermined ideas of what a person should know, which is then measured indirectly through various forms of "objective" tests. Such an approach does not address whether that person is really capable of putting the knowledge into practice. In the traditional Native sense, competency has an unequivocal relationship to survival or extinction. You either have it, or you don't, and survival is the ultimate measure.

Native people do a form of "science" when they are involved in subsistence activities. They have studied and know a great deal about the flora and fauna, and they have their own classification systems and versions of meteorology, physics, chemistry, earth science, astronomy, psychology (knowing one's inner world), and the sacred. For a Native student imbued with an indigenous, experientially grounded, holistic perspective, typical approaches to teaching can present an impediment to learning, to the extent that they focus on compartmentalized knowledge with little regard for how academic disciplines relate to one another or to the surrounding universe.

To bring significance to learning in indigenous contexts, the explanations of natural phenomena should be cast first in Native terms to which students can relate, and then explained in Western terms. For example, when describing an eddy along the river for placing a fishing net, it should be explained initially in the indigenous way of understanding, pointing out the currents, the movement of debris and sediment in the water, the likely path of the fish, the condition of the river bank, upstream conditions affecting water levels, the impact of passing boats, etc. Once the students understand the significance of the knowledge being presented, it can then be explained in Western terms, such as flow, velocity, resistance, turgidity, sonar readings, tide tables, etc., to illustrate how the modern explanation adds to the traditional understanding (and vice versa). All learning should start with what the student and community know and are using in everyday life. The Native student will become more motivated to learn when the subject matter is based on something useful and suitable to the livelihood of the community and is presented in a way that reflects the interconnectedness of all things.

Since Western scientific perspectives influence decisions that impact every aspect of Native peoples lives, from education to fish and wildlife management, Native people themselves have begun to take an active role in re-asserting their own traditions of science in various policy-making arenas. As a result, there is a growing awareness of the depth and breadth of knowledge that is extant in many Native societies, and its potential value in addressing issues of contemporary concern. The following observation by Bielawski (1990) illustrates this point:

Indigenous knowledge is not static, an unchanging artifact of a former lifeway. It has been adapting to the contemporary world since contact with "others" began, and it will continue to change. Western science in the North is also beginning to change in response to contact with indigenous knowledge. Change was first seen in the acceptance that Inuit (and other Native northerners) have knowledge, that is 'know something.' Then change moved to involving Inuit in the research process as it is defined by Western science. Then community-based research began, wherein communities and native organizations identified problems and sought the means to solve them. I believe the next stage will be one in which Inuit and other indigenous peoples grapple with the nature of what scientists call research (p. 18).

Such an awareness of the contemporary significance of indigenous knowledge systems is beginning to impact policy development in the North, as is evident in the following statement in the Arctic Environmental Protection Strategy (1993):

Resolving the various concerns that indigenous peoples have about the development of scientific based information must be addressed through both policy and programs. This begins with reformulating the principles and guidelines within which research will be carried out and involves the process of consultation and the development of appropriate techniques for identifying problems that indigenous peoples wish to see resolved. But the most important step that must be taken is to assure that indigenous environmental and ecological knowledge becomes an information system that carries its own validity and recognition. A large effort is now underway in certain areas within the circumpolar region, as well as in other parts of the world, to establish these information systems and to set standards for their use (p. 27).

The incongruities between Western institutional structures and practices and indigenous cultural forms will not be easy to reconcile. The complexities that come into play when two fundamentally different worldviews converge present a formidable challenge. In an analysis of the beliefs and practices of indigenous people from around the world, Knudtson and Suzuki (1992) identified the following characteristics as distinguishing their worldviews from the predominant beliefs and practices in Western society.

Indigenous Worldviews

Western Worldview

Spirituality is imbedded in all elements of the cosmos
Spirituality is centered in a single Supreme Being

Humans have responsibility for maintaining harmonious relationship with the natural world
Humans exercise dominion over nature to use it for personal and economic gain

Need for reciprocity between human and natural worlds - resources are viewed as gifts
Natural resources are available for unilateral human exploitation

Nature is honored routinely through daily spiritual practice
Spiritual practices are intermittent and set apart from daily life

Wisdom and ethics are derived from direct experience with the natural world
Human reason transcends the natural world and can produce insights independently

Universe is made up of dynamic, ever-changing natural forces
Universe is made up of an array of static physical objects

Universe is viewed as a holistic, integrative system with a unifying life force
Universe is compartmentalized in dualistic forms and reduced to progressively smaller conceptual parts

Time is circular with natural cycles that sustain all life
Time is a linear chronology of "human progress"

Nature will always possess unfathomable mysteries
Nature is completely decipherable to the rational human mind

Human thought, feelings and words are inextricably bound to all other aspects of the universe
Human thought, feeling and words are formed apart from the surrounding world

Human role is to participate in the orderly designs of nature
Human role is to dissect, analyze and manipulate nature for own ends

Respect for elders is based on their compassion and reconciliation of outer- and inner-directed knowledge
Respect for others is based on material achievement and chronological old age

Sense of empathy and kinship with other forms of life
Sense of separateness from and superiority over other forms of life

View proper human relationship with nature as a continuous two-way, transactional dialogue
View relationship of humans to nature as a one-way, hierarchical imperative

(Adapted from Knudtson and Suzuki, 1992, p. 13-15)

The specialization, standardization, compartmentalization, and systematicity that are inherent features of Western bureaucratic forms of organization are often in direct conflict with social structures and practices in indigenous societies, which tend toward collective decision-making, extended kinship structures, ascribed authority vested in elders, flexible notions of time, and traditions of informality in everyday affairs. It is little wonder then that formal education structures, which often epitomize Western bureaucratic forms, have been found wanting in addressing the educational needs of traditional societies.

This picture is not as bleak as it once was, however, as indigenous people themselves have begun to rethink their role and seek to blend old and new practices in ways that are more likely to fit contemporary conditions. The actions currently being taken by indigenous people themselves in communities throughout the world clearly demonstrate that a significant "paradigm shift" toward the integration of indigenous knowledge systems and ways of knowing is already well underway, with the educational orientation shifting consistently toward an emphasis on the utilization of local knowledge and people in the educational process. As this shift evolves, it is not only indigenous people who will be the beneficiaries, however, since many of the issues that are being addressed are of equal significance in non-indigenous contexts (Nader, 1996). Many of the problems that originated under conditions of marginalization have gravitated from the periphery to the center of industrial societies, so the pedagogical solutions that are emerging in indigenous societies may be of equal benefit to the broader educational community. With that in mind, let us take a closer look at how these issues are played out in a particular situation.

Life in the Margins: Western Science Meets Indigenous Reality

Each summer since 1989, the University of Alaska Fairbanks has been offering a cross-cultural orientation course for educators in which we take students out to a remote abandoned village site which now serves as a cultural camp thirty miles down the Tanana River from the community of Nenana. When we first began exploring the idea for the camp, we went out to the village of Minto to meet with a group of about a dozen local elders to inquire if they would be willing to work with us to put together a program in which we would take a group of educators to the Old Minto camp to work with the elders and learn a bit about the Athabascan world and the role of education from their perspective.

By chance, when we arrived in Minto and went to the Elder's Hall, they were just beginning a meeting with a group of State Department of Fish and Game and Department of Natural Resources representatives from Fairbanks. The agency personnel had gone to Minto to explain what they were going to be doing in the way of research in the Minto Flats that summer, so that if people were out and about fishing or hunting in the Flats and ran across some of the monitoring equipment, they would know what was happening. Old Minto (Men-tee ) is on the south end of Minto Flats on the Tanana River, and the new village of Minto, established in 1970, is on the north end of the Flats on the Tolovana River. The people of Minto are the permanent residents of the 500 square miles of lakes, streams and forest that lie between the old and new village sites. Regardless of where the village is, Minto Flats is their home, and they know the area like they know the palm of their hand.

From the very beginning, it was obvious that the researchers regarded the meeting as a one-way event in which they were going to provide information to the people of Minto; the elders, in contrast, saw the meeting as an opportunity to provide input on issues they felt the State should be attending to on their behalf. So before they even started there was a communication problem because of the different impressions of why they were meeting, but that turned out to be the least of the problems. As they introduced themselves, each of the agency representatives noted his area of specialization. Present were a beaver specialist, two fisheries specialists (one on whitefish and one on pike), a moose specialist, and a hydrology specialist who knew something about mining sedimentation. They each had a fairly clear notion of what they wanted to convey, so they set about explaining what they were going to be doing in Minto Flats to help the people of Minto.

One of the concerns of the fisheries biologists was to find out more about the pike migration patterns in the Minto Flats area because of a serious decline in the number of pike in recent years. One of the fisheries biologists brought along a small radio transmitter that could be inserted into the pike so the signal could be used to track their movements. As he went through his explanation he passed around one of the transmitters, which was about the size of a thumb. He started to explain that these were inserted into an incision in the bottom of the pike, but he barely got the words out of his mouth and one of the elders spoke up and said: "Oh sure! We see those all the time. But you ruin the fish with them! We can't eat the fish after that!" The biologist objected: "No, we are very careful to put them in the gut sack so we don't mess with the meat of the fish. We make a small incision and put it in the gut sack.", at which the elder pointed out, "But that is the problem. The gut sack is the best part of the pike. The meat has so many bones. The gut sack is what we like, but we can't eat it anymore." It was apparent that the elder's comment didn't register with the biologist, who went on to explain how the data was transmitted to a satellite and eventually placed on a map to track the movement of the pike, all of which only added to, rather than reduced the trepidation of the people of Minto toward the work of these outside researchers.

Another issue that the hydrology specialist was concerned about had to do with the impact of mining from the area near Fairbanks that drains into the Chatanika River, which feeds into the Tolovana River, which meanders through various sloughs in the Minto Flats and eventually into the Tanana River. The Minto people had been complaining about the amount of sediment that was coming down the river and covering over the spawning beds for various species in the area. To show that the State was responding to the concern, the sedimentation specialist demonstrated a piece of equipment he had brought along which would be placed on the side of a streambed with a hose going into the water. Several times a day, it would automatically suck up a sample of water and do a sediment analysis and then enter the results on a chart. At the end of the summer, he would have a graph of the varying levels of sediment in the water. When the sedimentation specialist finished his presentation, one of the elders raised the question: "What are you going to do about the burn policy?" After a brief pause with a quizzical look from the specialist, another elder repeated: "The problem is with the burn policy!" but the quizzical look remained. Finally, one of the elders said: "The BLM policy for controlling fires. They just let fires in the Flats burn until they get close to a man-made structure. That is what is creating a lot of the problems out here." One of the agency representatives eventually responded: "Well, there's no one from BLM here, and we can't speak for them. We don't have anything to do with their policies, so we can't deal with that issue. But, here is what happens when the sediment level builds up in the river..." The meeting went on with the Minto people showing considerable patience, but the frustration level on both sides was growing.

Finally, 90-year-old Peter John, an elder with very little formal schooling who has been the traditional chief of Minto for quite some time, got up and gave a fifteen minute exposition on the ecology of Minto Flats connecting all of the different elements that make up the area, including the Minto people, and how they influence one another. Eventually, he got around to pointing out that because of recent changes in BLM's burn policy, which was to let fires burn unless they endangered man-made structures, the beaver habitat in the Flats was being impacted, so the beaver were moving up river into the sloughs and building dams that were filling with sedimentation from the mining, which destroyed the pike's spawning beds. He pointed out that just because the Minto people didn't build permanent structures out in the Flats like the White man's cabins up along the rivers didn't mean that they weren't using the area.

Referring to the radio tracking of the pike, the Chief chided the biologists, "If you want to know where pike spend the winter, come and ask me. How do you think I lived to be this old? I can tell you exactly where we go to get the biggest pike and where the pike spend the winter. But I don't want to let those snowmachiners in Fairbanks know." In the course of Peter John's presentation, he pointed out that the fish and game people had referred to statistics that went back only thirty years to determine how many pike there had been in the past. "You are talking about thirty years. Our record goes back three hundred years. We know how many pike were around three hundred years ago, and how many it took to feed our families and dogs," at which point he proceeded to explain the seasonal fluctuations that were recorded in their knowledge base going back more than ten generations.

He described how, in the old days when families moved from camp to camp on the Flats they couldn't carry much food with them, so they needed to know exactly where they could expect to find the next supply. People shared this information whenever they met, and it was passed on from generation to generation as a matter of survival. The only difference was, it wasn't written down in a log book the way the scientists do, but it was just as reliable and was accumulated over a longer period of time than is available to the scientists. He pointed out that the biggest change occured about 20 years earlier when the State opened an access road to the Minto Flats for snow machines and four-wheel drive vehicles, which brought in a large influx of fishermen from Fairbanks who took more fish than the rivers and lakes could handle. The Minto people were no longer able to obtain their food from the most accessible places and were having to travel farther out into the Flats to find adequate supplies.

What Peter John and the other elders were pointing out was an enormous gap between the way the Western-trained scientists and the people of Minto viewed the various elements that make up the Minto Flats area. While the scientists with their specialized knowledge and elaborate tools were well intentioned, the gulf between their compartmentalized, limited-time-frame view of the world and the holistic, multi-generational perspective of Peter John appeared insurmountable. The fish and game people couldn't see beyond their constituent parts to connect with what the elders were trying to tell them, though the Minto people had a quite sophisticated understanding of what the fish and game specialists were talking about. They had seen fish and game biologists and many other Western researchers come and go hundreds of times and they knew what they did, how they did it, and why they did it. They knew all the issues and they knew many of the answers, before the specialists even began to collect their data. But the fish and game people didn't have any way to respond to the long-accumulated detailed information about Minto Flats as a complex interconnected ecosystem that Peter John had given them. Thus, one of the fundamental challenges before us is to figure out how to make connections between the view of the world that Peter John is talking about and what the fish and game people are trying to do, so that we can enter into joint ventures that are mutually respectful and recognize the validity of diverse sets of knowledge, as well as the benefits to be gained if they are pooled together in complementary ways.

The Minto elders did agree to work with us to implement a cultural immersion program for teachers, so for the past eight summers we have been taking about thirty educators out to Old Minto to spend a week to ten days (in the middle of a three-week session) with the elders as the instructors. We make no prior stipulations about what is to go on at the campæno lectures, no seminars, none of the formal teaching we would normally do. Instead, we participate in whatever activities the elders arrange at the camp. It isn't until about half-way through the week that teachers start recognizing that we are in a different realm. Until then they process the activities through the filters they bring with them, applying what they already know from previous outdoor "camping" experiences to make sense out of the new circumstances. It's when they begin to notice the discrepancies between what they think is happening and what actually happens that they realize there is more going on than they initially recognized. It is at that point, when people start questioning their own presuppositions, that new insights begin to emerge. The elders and the other people from Minto who work with us have a remarkable capacity to open themselves up and draw people into their lives. Even teachers who are initially skeptical when they enter the program come out of it with a new set of lenses through which to view the world.

There are ways to break out of the mold in which we are oftentimes stuck, though it takes some effort. There are ways to develop linkages that connect different worldviews, at least for a few people under the right conditions. The kinds of insights that Peter John was trying to convey in the meeting with the fish and game biologists open up as many questions as answers. Each time we seek an answer to any one of the questions, more questions pop up. The exciting part of it is that more people are beginning to take these questions seriously. We have learned a tremendous amount from the experience at Old Minto, and we find each year that the more we learn the less we know, in terms of having penetrated through another layer of understanding of what life in that context is all about, only to recognize the existence of many additional layers that lie beyond our current understanding.

The tendency in most of the literature on Native education is to focus on how to get Native people to understand the Western/scientific view of the world. There is very little literature that addresses how to get Western scientists and educators to understand Native worldviews. We have to come at these issues on a two-way street, rather than view the problem as a one-way challenge to get Native people to buy into the Western system. Native people may need to understand Western science, but not at the expense of what they already know. Non-Native people, too, need to recognize the existence of multiple worldviews and knowledge systems, and find ways to understand and relate to the world in its multiple dimensions and varied perspectives.

Seeking Common Ground Across Worldviews

For Alaska Native people, culture, knowing, and living are intricately interrelated. Living in a harsh environment requires a vast array of precise empirical knowledge to survive the many risks due to conditions such as unpredictable weather and marginal food availability. To avoid starvation they must employ a variety of survival strategies, including appropriate storage of foodstuffs that they can fall back on during times of need. Their food gathering and storage must be energy efficient as well as effective. If this were not so, how could they possibly hope to survive? To help them achieve this balance, they have developed an outlook of nature as metaphysic, from which are derived the "laws" that govern all aspects of the relationships between the seen and unseen worlds.

Alaska Native worldviews and technologies are conducive to living in harmony with the universe. Their lifestyles, including subsistence methods and technologies, are exemplifications of their worldview. After all, the Creator for many Native people is the Raven, so how could the human being be superior to the creatures of Mother Earth? Harmony is the key idea behind Native subsistence practices. How could their hunting and trapping implements and practices not be respectful to animals that they would have to kill in order to live? They believe all plants, winds, mountains, rivers, lakes, and creatures of the earth possess a spirit, and therefore have consciousness and life. Everything is alive and aware, requiring that relationships be maintained in a respectful way so as not to upset the balance.

The time-honored values of respect, reciprocity, and cooperation are conducive to adaptation, survival, and harmony. Native people honor the integrity of the universe as a whole living beingæan inter-connected system. As it is living, all things of the earth must be respected because they also have life. Native people have a reciprocal relationship with all things of the universe. The importance of maintaining the integrity of this relationship is captured by Harold Napoleon (1997) in his description of the foundation of the Yupiaq belief system.

At the core of the spiritual belief system of the Yupiaq people was the principle that all creation was spirit: alive, conscious, and very dynamic. The foundation and the chief characteristic of this spiritual Universe was balance and harmony (qin'nuee'jaa'raq ), with all in the Universe bound to preserving and maintaining it. In this spiritual Universe all creatures had their place, their roles to fulfill, whether it was the I'rra'luq (Moon), where the spirits of mammals and fish dwelt till sent to the Nuna (Earth) to replenish it, or the humble ang'ya'ya'raq (shrew), who, while physically tiny, was no inferior to man and other spirits, and had to be respected. Man was not superior to other beings but was an equal to some, inferior to others; he was thus bound by the laws of the Universe to maintaining a harmonious relationship with all spirits if he was to survive.

This explains the Yupiaq preoccupation with maintaining a harmonious relationship with the spirits of the sea, the land, the rivers, the Ellaa (the Universe, also weather); with keeping appeased the mammal and fish on whose beneficence he depended for food, clothing, and shelter. This spiritual reality is reflected in Yupiaq art and ceremionals. It is also the foundation of Yupiaq law (Qaa'ner'ya'raat ). The basic principle of Yupiaq law is best stated in the phrase, "Qin'nuee'na'ne Yuuyaraq " (To live in peace, harmony), which becomes the law, "Qin'nuee'na'je Yuu'ge'je " (You shall live in peace and harmony).

From observing nature, Native people learned that the earth and the universe are built upon the premise of cooperation and interdependence. Western researchers, too, must respect these values to advance knowledge and expand our consciousness. The constructs and understandings of Alaska Native people need to be honored for their integrity on the same level as the modern scientific notion of the holographic image.

The holographic image does not lend itself to reductionism or fragmentation. Reductionism seeks to break reality into parts to understand the whole, without realizing that the parts are merely patterns extant in a total web of relationships (Capra, 1996). The Native worldview does not allow separation of its parts, as each part must be understood in its relationship to the whole. Respect for the Native people who formalized this view should be practiced. Native people have transcended quantifying and sensory-constricted studies of nature practiced by the modern world. Thus, it is to everyone's benefit that there be cooperation between the researcher and Native people. The researchers need to set aside notions of human superiority to things of the universe, and people considered primitive and backward. Native people should be treated as equal human beings with heightened powers of observation, critical analysis, and a gift of intuition.

To Alaska Native people there are many things in this universe that are cyclical and describe a spiral or a circle. Examples of these include the seasons, the solar system, the timepiece of the Big Dipper going around the North Star, the Raven's path across the sky visible at certain times (as the Milky Way spiral), an eddy in the river, a whirlwind, and many other cyclical patterns reflected in nature. In each instance there is a drawing force in the center. In the Native worldview, this can be thought of as the circle of life. In each Native person's life the central drawing force is the self. The self is grounded in the profound silence of the universeæits sustenance is spiritual, it is love, it is a sense of belonging to a tribe, belonging to the universe, belonging to something greater than ones self. Despite the impact of change in Native worldviews, many of these values have remained intact and are very applicable today.

While they can be quite useful in producing insights and solutions to particular kinds of problems, mathematical and scientific disciplines and their off-spring, the engineered technologies, are often one-dimensional. These tools have the wonderful capacity for opening new discoveries in our world, but because of the Western tendency to want to control nature, they can also lead to confusion and a feeling of detachment from the life force and the attendant sense of connectedness. They are bereft of the values extant in the indigenous societies, which also have the power to open doors to new discoveries. Western mathematics, sciences and technologies do reflect inherent values, some very beneficial to human well-being; however, they are too often usurped by the economic imperatives of a market-driven society in which short-term expediency, efficiency and cost-effectiveness tend to take precedence over local considerations related to long-term sustainability, adaptability and self-sufficiency. Indigenous societies, on the other hand have continued to rely heavily on the latter qualities to survive in the contemporary world, as they did in traditional times.

From all indications, nature thrives on diversity. Look at the permutations of weather during a day, much less a month, or year. The climates differ from one part of the earth to another. The flora and the fauna exhibit great variety and differ markedly from one region to another. The continents and their geographies differ. No two snowflakes are exactly alike. The stars, constellations, and other heavenly bodies appear to be unchanging, yet our learned astronomers tell us that many changes are constantly taking place. Novae, supernovae, black holes, stars dying and being born are indicators of a continuously changing universe. The new sciences of chaos and complexity reveal patterns we never thought existed in nature. These all point to diversity, and it is the balance in all of these patterns and forces that helps nature thrive. Alaska Native people have recognized this diversity all along and have striven for harmony with all of life, even as their lives were torn asunder by forces beyond their control (Napoleon, 1991). They have now come full circle and are seeking to heal the breeches that have put their life in jeopardy. As the Yupiaq people say:Seggangukut '-"We are awakening, we are being energized!" They have adopted nature as their guiding force and have drawn energy from the earth.

Native people have long understood the forces of energy around us. An example of energy exchange is reflected in the story of a man out on the ocean. He gets caught on an iceberg that gets cut off from shore and drifts out. He has no choice but to try to keep warm and survive the night. The next day, he finds that the iceberg is stationary but is not attached to the shore ice. New ice has formed overnight in the water between. He remembers the advice of his elders that to test the newly formed ice and its ability to hold up a person, he must raise his ice pick about two feet above the ice and let it drop. If the weight of the ice pick allows the point to penetrate, but stops where it is attached to the wooden handle, he can try crossing on the ice. If, on the other hand, it does not stop at the point of intersection, then it will not hold up the man. In this case, the pick did not penetrate beyond the point. The man looked around him at the beauty and the might of Nature, and realizing the energies that abound, he got onto the ice. He had to maintain a steady pace for if he stopped or began to run he would fall through as a result of breaking his rhythm and concentration. The story goes that when he began his journey across the ice, there was a lightness and buoyancy in his mind. This feeling was conveyed to his physical being. Although the ice crackled and waved, he drew energy from nature by being in rhythm with the sea and ice and, maintaining a lightness and buoyancy of mind, he made it safely to the other side.

Western physics with its quantum and relativity theories suggests that matter is mostly condensed energy and that the world is made up of many interacting forces. If so, then Alaska Native people may be able to draw energy from earth because they are a part of it. All life comes from the earth. Alaska Native peoples' reliance on nature as a guiding force becomes corroborated by the Western theories. This also strengthens the argument that the laboratory for teaching and learning should be embedded in the place where one lives. Young people can be energized by being outdoors in nature enjoying its beauty and becoming part of it. This can encourage self-respect and respect for others, as well as for the seen and unseen forces that dwell in and amongst all things of nature. Students in the outdoors are able to whet their observational skills while learning from nature and drawing energy for themselves. There is a vast difference in learning about the tundra in the classroom and being out in it. Being in and with the environment the whole year round, students can experience the vicissitudes of seasons, flora, fauna, sunlight, freezing, thawing, wind, weather permutations, gaining intimate knowledge about placeæusing their five senses and intuition to learn about themselves and the world around them.

It is this drawing of energy from nature that will allow the indigenous self to again become strong so that the breaks in the circle of life can be repaired. Then the individual and community can allow selected outside values and traditions which they think will strengthen their minds, bodies and spirits to filter in. The Alaska Native people will again become whole people and know what to be and what to do to make a life and a living. They will have reached into the profound silence of self to attain happiness and harmony in a world of their own making.

Indigenous Implications for a Pedagogy of Place

Indigenous societies study that which is invisible to temper the development of technology and guide its association with nature. Alaska Native worldviews deal with trying to understand the irregularities of nature which are underlain with patterns of order. Many unseen forces are in action in the elements of the universe, so it is necessary to seek out the patterns and relationships that can be recognized through detailed observations over long periods of time. Such observations and reflections embody the processes on which all education depends.

To help students begin to understand these phenomena, indigenous education should begin with the five basic elements of the universe-earth, air, fire, water and spirit (Kawagley, 1996). The sacred gifts of each must be understood, as well as the human activities which contribute to the sustainability or destruction of these life-giving gifts. In order to be holistic, the curricular activities must include indigenous language and culture, language arts, mathematics, social studies, arts and crafts, and sciences. All must be interrelated as all of earth is interrelated.

For example, in dealing with the element "air," the teacher can focus on the sacred gift of weather. And what an unpredictable choice! Like many Native myths, weather is so very dynamic, ever changing, and, like the myth, very mystical. The wind has irregularities of constantly varying velocity, humidity, temperature, and direction due to topography and other factors. There are nonlinear dimensions to clouds, irregularities of cloud formations, anomalous cloud luminosity, and different forms of precipitation at different levels. There are patterns, however tenuous, such as the path of a jet stream or fronts to be studied. The Native students' visual acuity and memory for detail can be used to advantage. The weather's dynamic is such that each part is part of a part which is a part of another part and so on. The local Native elders can explain how they are able to predict weather based upon subtle messages given to them by the wind and sun twenty-four hours earlier. This involves the language of feelings from the inner world coupled with the language of reason.

Being inclined toward the spiritual, the Native person is able to understand and accept the unpredictable permutations of weather. The Native people have learned certain general predictable patterns of weather connected to the seasons and moons. Yet, the Native student can also get acquainted with the now predominant tools of the meteorologist, such as the thermometer, barometer, anemometer, hydrometer, satellite pictures and other tools that give the elders' knowledge depth, detail, and a broader view. Introducing students to the notion of irregularities and anomalies of form and force (chaos and fractals) necessarily introduces them to holism. The key idea is for the students to understand the inter-connectedness of all things in the universe.

In using the five elements of life to teach, it is of utmost importance to assure that each element is a gift to the life-giving forces of the living earth. The teacher must be careful to explain that those gifts are absolutely necessary for life on earth to continue. Yupiaq people honor and respect these gifts in their rituals and ceremonies, incorporating all five elements in mutually reinforcing ways.

Take for example, the Nakaciuq, or the "Blessing of the Bladders." The Yupiaq people believed that when the seal or some other sea mammal gave itself to the hunter, the spirit of the seal entered its bladder upon giving up its life. This required that the people take care to remove the bladder, inflate it to dry, and save it for the winter Bladder Festival to honor the sacred gift of the element, "spirit." In this way the Yupiaq people honored and showed respect for the gift of the element, "earth," for giving birth to animals upon which they depended for survival as a people. During the festival, the bladders were reinflated with life-giving air and hung on poles for the duration of the activities. In the qasgiq (community house) were placed two three-to-four foot stout poles in front of the place of honor for the elders. On the flattened upper end of the poles were placed two earthen lamps with wicks which were then filled with seal oil. The wicks were lighted and the lamps kept burning during the entire festival. One or two people were given the responsibility of keeping the lamps going. The gift of the element, "fire," was used to light and give warmth to the community house. To purify the air and the participants in the house, wild parsnips were burned. Another gift of the element, "earth," the parsnip plant was used to create purifying smoke with the transforming gift of the element, "fire." At the conclusion of the Bladder Festival, the bladders were taken down, deflated, and carried to the ocean or river where an opening in the ice had been made. With collective mindfulness of all the Yupiaq participants that the spirits of the animals were happy and satisfied with the care and careful execution of the required rituals and ceremonies, and that they would return and give themselves to the hunters, the bladders were returned to the sacred gift of the element, "water," the womb of creation.

To give such a curriculum real meaning for Native students, a multi-disciplinary and multi-sensory study of the elements should be undertaken for the entire school year. The students would begin to understand that the experience of knowing and making intimate acquaintance with a place takes time. The students can be helped to fine-tune their endosomatic sense-makers through carefully planned and executed lessons of observation that incorporate their language of feeling with the language of reason. The ultimate gift is that of the element, "spirit," which through the Native language, mythology, rituals, and ceremonies, introduces students to "a lifeway appropriate to place" (Mills, 1990).

Modern schools are not teaching students how to live a life that is fulfilling. Rather, the schools are giving information to students without showing them how they can transform that information into useful knowledge for making a living, not to mention preparing them to individually and collectively understand how the usable knowledge can be transformed into the wisdom needed to live a meaningful life. Instead, students now look at an innovative teacher who refuses to use existing curricula, syllabi, textbooks, lessons plans, media presentations, photocopied materials and so on, as not really "teaching." They expect to be given a lot of information and to be entertained. The many machines, modern tools, and the vaunted computers, however, are not enough to teach a lifeway that meets the inner needs of the students.

The teachers and teachers-to-be must understand that the world is nonlinear and that science will never fully understand everything about the universe. They must also realize and appreciate that in modern scientific and educational endeavors, mathematics, science and technology are interrelated with all other disciplines. It behooves us to make sure that education becomes realigned with the common philosophical thread, or the "distant memory" of the ecological perspective. All peoples of the earth began from this vista, and therefore such a perspective makes it more probable and possible for attaining a new consciousness for a sustainable life.

Indigenous Contributions to Ecological and Educational Understanding

As hinted at in the examples provided above, indigenous people have much to offer in guiding education back to a grounding in the ecology of place. Four areas in which significant benefits can be derived by reconnecting educational practice to indigenous ecological understandings may be summarized as follows:

Indigenous View

Educational Application

Long-term perspective
Education must be understood (and carried out) across generations

Inter-connectedness of all things
Knowledge is bound to the context in which it is to be used (and learned), and all elements are inter-related

Adaptation to change
Education must continuously be adapted to fit the times and place

Commitment to the commons
The whole is greater than the sum of its parts

One of the most important contributions that indigenous people are bringing to the scientific and educational arenas is a temporal dimension, that is a long-term perspective spanning many generations of observation and experimentation, which enriches the relatively short-term, time-bound observations of the itinerant Western-oriented scientists and educators. The indigenous perspective adds breadth to the scientists' depth (Kawagley, 1995). As a result, patterns and cycles that are not evident in the Western scientists' data base of detailed in-depth short-term observations can be factored into the equation for educational purposes. For example, a Yupiaq hunter triggered research linking industrial pollution from factories as far away as Central Europe and China to "acid snow" affecting changes in the coloration of tundra plants in Western Alaska, which he had observed over a period of 40 years. As a result, he was invited to participate in an international conference on "Arctic haze" at Cambridge University, to provide a dimension that was not readily available through conventional tools of scientific observation.

Likewise, in education we tend to look for immediate solutions to problems that are often the product of long-term generational shifts, for which the solutions, too, must be understood at a multi-generational level. The observations of a Peter John can span up to four generations, out of which patterns are recognized that are not obvious to the itinerant educator, yet it is the latter whose actions will directly impact the succeeding generations ability to participate in a rapidly changing world. For everyones benefit, it is essential that we recognize the contributions that can be derived from a multi-generational perspective.

Coupled closely with this long-term temporal dimension is another important contribution that indigenous ways of knowing providesæthat of pointing out the inter-connectedness of all the elements that make up an ecosystem, including the human element (as Peter John indicated). While Western scientists tend to specialize and conduct research in one component of an ecosystem at a time, the Native observer is immersed in the system and thus is more likely to recognize how the various components relate to and depend on one another over time and across species. An Aleut observer, Larry Merculieff, made this point forcefully at an Alaska Marine Mammal Conference in 1991, which he helped organize to deal with issues associated with the sustainability of the ecosystem and economy of the Pribilof Islands. We quote his comments verbatim:

Western scientific research systems are too specialized. Bird scientists study birds. Marine mammal scientists study marine mammals. Fishery scientists study fish. They specialize even within a single category. For example, bird scientists study reproductivity by counting breeding birds on cliffs, as one project. Another project may study just murres and kittiwakes, but not cormorants or puffins or least auklets, or fulmars or sea gulls. Another project may study cliff nesting birds at sea. Very few studies are done on how each species interacts with each other and under what environmental conditions.

Because of how different scientists are funded and because scientists do not want to step on another scientist's territory, there is little if any coordination between research on different species. Marine mammal scientists do not closely coordinate with oceanographers and climatologists. Everything is placed in specialized, separate boxes, even though we know that everything is connected. Some Soviet scientists researching the Bering Sea call American scientists "anti-ecologistic" because of American emphasis on studying single species. We will never understand the Bering Sea unless we understand the connections of all things affecting it. The Western scientific system is unable to do this.

We [Alaska Natives] see everything in terms of connections. When we hunt, we know weather, temperature, wind direction, presence of sea ice, how the ice is packed, time of day, type of season, human activityæall affect the behavior and survival of wildlife. We observe all these things all our lives.

We must act to use our knowledge to re-direct how everything we depend on is being managed by over specialized scientific systems. Scientists wonder what is happening to seals, sea lions, and birds. In the Pribilofs, we watch sea lions eating seal pups with greater frequency than ever in memory. We see chicks on bird cliffs dropping to the rocks below because they are too weak. We notice how seal pelts are thinner than ever in memory. We notice how mature bull seals are smaller than just ten years ago. This tells us that all these species are having food problems. But no scientist or manager is interested in these observations. Every coastal village where there is strong dependency on the sea for a livelihood and way of life have their own observations. We should share this information among ourselves and then act on it (p. 3-4).

Since 1991, through actions of people like Larry Merculieff, including the formation of the Indigenous People's Council for Marine Mammals, Aleut practitioners and Western scientists have become collaborators in looking at the Bering Sea as an ecosystem. As a result of the input of Aleut observers, many new hypotheses have been put forward to be tested with the arsenal of specialized techniques and technology provided by Western science.

In addition, Merculieff has been instrumental in the establishment of a "Stewardship Camp" for young people on the Pribilof Islands, in which future generations learn about their place in the fragile ecosystem they occupy and the responsibility they carry as the stewards of that ecosystem. The instructors for the camp include local elders as well as visiting scientists, who learn from each other while they share their knowledge with the students. Through such educational programs connected to peoples everyday lives, young people learn that every action they take, from the careers they choose to what they do with a piece of trash, is part of an inter-connected web of values and behaviors that shape who they are as a peopleæin this case the Aleut people. The surrounding environment can provide a rich laboratory for students to learn about the many interconnected forces that impact their lives and make a contribution to the well-being of their community, utilizing tools from both the indigenous and Western knowledge systems.

Another important contribution that indigenous people are making to our understanding of sustainable lifestyles is the relationship between human adaptation and the dynamic nature of cultural systems. Unlike the Western observers' tendency to freeze indigenous cultural systems in time, as though they existed in some kind of idealized static state destined never to change, indigenous people themselves, as a matter of cultural survival, have been quick to adapt new technologies and to grasp the "new world order." While retaining a keen sense of place and rootedness in the land they occupy, they have not hesitated to take advantage of new opportunities (as well as create a few of their own) to improve their quality of life and the efficacy of their lifestyles. This is done, however, within their own framework of values, priorities and worldview, so that the development trajectory they choose is not always the same as what outsiders might choose for them.

The recognition of cultural systems as being dynamic and ever-changing in response to new conditions has enormous implications for the sustainability of indigenous communities, especially where demographic changes, development opportunities and technological innovations have combined to put pressure on available subsistence resources beyond the carrying capacity of the host bioregion. Nowhere has this been more complicated than in the regulation of the Bowhead whale stock available to Inupiaq hunters along the northern and northwest coasts of Alaska. For example, when Native people in northwest Alaska had to establish a priority between maximizing profits in their role as Native corporate shareholders and sustaining the subsistence whale hunt that could potentially be disrupted by ships bearing ore from their own world-class lead/zinc mine passing through the migration route of the whales, they chose to place the subsistence hunting of the whales as the top priority, and established a panel of hunters from nearby villages who had the power to shut down the mine if necessary while the communities dependent on the whales conducted their hunt. Their multinational partners in the mining venture were not necessarily in agreement with this decision, but in this case, the resource and thus the decision, was in the hands of residents of the region (Barnhardt, 1996).

Similar actions have been taken by Inupiaq people with regard to the education of their children. Not satisfied with the either/or forced-choice options often presented by the schools, whereby students are expected to select between learning to be a subsistence hunter or learning Western academic knowledge, students in the village of Kaktovik have drawn on their traditional Inupiaq base-20 counting practices to create a unique numerical notation and computation system that is capable of performing high-level mathematical calculations. The system has been so successful that when they were challenged by a team of oil-field engineers with electronic calculators, the Inupiaq students were able to accurately preform the calculations faster than the engineers. They have demonstrated that it is possible to adapt to the imperatives of the Western educational system without sacrificing their own cultural traditions in the process.

Another important dimension that illustrates the contribution that indigenous people can make to our thinking and practice in our relationship to the world around us is a qualitative dimension placing a priority emphasis on the sustainability of family, community and the cultural systems reflected therein. Whereas Western-derived practices tend to focus on individually-oriented considerations and goals, indigenous people are more likely to seek a community-oriented approach, focusing on the commons as the basis for individual sustenance, and the individual as the basis for the strength of the commons. The educational practices associated with such an outlook are grounded in the same premises as the African proverb, "It takes a whole village to raise a child."

Along with the emphasis on sustainability of community, indigenous worldviews are more inclined to see humans as a subset of the natural world in which they are precariously situated, rather than to see nature as a repository of resources for human exploitation (Kundtson and Suzuki, 1992). Though this orientation to the natural world is often misunderstood and misrepresented in non-indigenous contexts, its spiritual and tangible connotations are very much a continuing aspect of indigenous people's livelihood, and thus underlie indigenous perspectives on the sustainability of all life. The significance of this perspective is reflected in the following preamble to a statement on Indigenous Peoples and Conservation, prepared by Indigenous Survival International in 1991:

The Earth is the foundation of Indigenous peoples. It is the well of their spirituality, knowledge, languages and cultures. It is not a commodity to be bartered to maximize profit; nor should it be damaged by scientific experimentation. The Earth is their historian, the cradle of their ancestors' bones. It provides them with nourishment, medicine and comfort. It is the source of their independence; it is their Mother. They do not dominate Her, but harmonize with Her (p. 41).

Summary

When examining educational issues in indigenous settings, we must consider the cultural and historical context, particularly in terms of who is determining what the rules of engagement are to be, and how those rules are to be implemented. As indigenous people have begun to re-assert their "aboriginal rights" to self-determination and self-government and assume control over various aspects of their lives, one of the first tasks they have faced has been to re-orient the institutional infrastructures and practices that were established by their former overseers to make them more suitable to their needs as a people with their own worldview, identity and history. In some instances, the initial response has been to accept the inherited structures without question and perpetuate the Western systems that were put in place before, including their implicit forms of decision making, social stratification and control. In most cases, however, there have been deliberate efforts to modify the inherited institutions, or create new institutional and political structures, such that indigenous cultural forms and values are taken into account wherever possible (Barnhardt, 1991). The tide has turned and the future of indigenous education is clearly shifting toward an emphasis on providing education in the culture, rather than education about the culture. From this we will all benefit.

It is recognized that the obstacles to change are many and the challenge is enormous, but no less than the survival of indigenous people as distinct societies is at stake, and with them the essential diversity that is vital to the survival of all humankind. The elemental nature of the work before us is succinctly captured by the following observation on the current state of Native education:

In the past, Native people tended to view formal education as a hindrance to their traditional ways, but now they are beginning to look at it in a different light. They are seeking to gain control of their education and give it direction to accomplish the goals they set for it, strengthening their own culture while simultaneously embracing Western science as a second force that can help them maintain themselves with as much self-reliance and self-sufficiency as possible. They have learned to thrive in a tough environment, and they can make it easier and less harsh, first as humans, secondly as scientists, with a carefully developed technology supported by an attuned educational system (Kawagley, 1995, p. 111).

[We wish to acknowledge the support of the Alaska Federation of Natives, the University of Alaska Fairbanks, the Annenberg Rural Challenge and the National Science Foundation for the establishment of the Alaska Native Knowledge Network and the work that has contributed to the preparation of this article.]

References

Barnhardt, R. 1991. Higher Education in the Fourth World: Indigenous People Take Control. Canadian Journal of Native Education, 18:2, Vancouver: University of British Columbia.

Barnhardt, R. 1996. Indigenous Perspectives on Marine Mammals as a Sustainable Resource: The Case of Alaska. Marine Mammal Workshop Proceedings. Iceland: University of Akureyri.

Bielawski, E. 1990. Cross-Cultural Epistemology: Cultural Readaptation Through the Pursuit of Knowledge. Edmonton: Department of Anthropology, University of Alberta.

Capra, F. 1996. The Web of LIfe: A New Scientific Understanding of Living Systems. New York: Doubleday.

Indigenous Survival International. 1991. Statement on Indigenous Peoples and Conservation. Arctic Environment: Indigenous Perspectives (pp. 41-47). Copenhagen: International Work Group for Indigenous Affairs.

Inuit Circumpolar Conference. 1993. Arctic Environmental Protection Strategy. Anchorage, Alaska: Inuit Circumpolar Conference.

Kawagley, A. O. 1995. A Yupiaq Worldview: A Pathway to Ecology and Spirit. Prospect Heights, IL: Waveland Press.

Kawagley, A. O. 1996. Earth, Air, Fire, Water and Spirit as a Foundation for Education. Sharing Our Pathways, 1:4, Fairbanks: Alaska Native Knowledge Network, University of Alaska Fairbanks.

Knudtson, P., & Suzuki, D. 1992. Wisdom of the Elders. Toronto: Stoddart Publishing, Ltd.

Merculieff, L. 1991. An Indigenous People's Position Paper on the Management and Use of the Bering Sea. Anchorage, Alaska: Marine Mammal Conference,.

Mills, S. 1990. In Praise of Nature. Washington, D. C.: Island Press.

Nader, L. 1996. Naked Science. New York: Routledge.

Napoleon, H. 1991. Yuuyaraq: The Way of the Human Being. Fairbanks: Alaska Native Knowledge Network, University of Alaska Fairbanks.

Napoleon, H. 1997. A Glimpse at the Yupiq Spiritual Universe. Anchorage, Alaska: Personal Communication.

Orr, D. W. 1994. Earth in Mind: On Education, Environment and the Human Prospect. Washington, D.C.: Island Press.

Alaska Native Education Research Requires That We Reach Into the
Profound Silence of Self To Know

By Angayuqaq Oscar Kawagley

Kawagley, O. (2002). "Alaska Native Education Research: Reaching into the profound silence of self."
A paper presented to the International Arctic Social Sciences Association at Rovaniemi,
Finland, May, 1995.  Published by the IASSA, Spring, 2002.

During recent times many articles have been produced that address ethical values of doing research in the North. I will not address them except to say that of importance are confidentiality, that villagers know what they are participating in, and that research results be provided to the villagers. It has been too long that Native people have been subjects of research without the honor, respect, reciprocity and cooperation due them. It is now time that we recognize that they are human beings with particular ways of knowing, being, thinking, behaving and doing. They have successfully survived for many thousands of years.

For the Yupiaq people, culture, knowing and living are intricately interrelated. Living in a harsh environment requires a vast array of precise empirical knowledge to survive the many risks due to conditions such as unpredictable weather and marginal food availability. To avoid starvation they must employ a variety of survival strategies, including appropriate storage of foodstuffs that they can fall back on during the time of need. Their food gathering and storage must be efficient as well as effective. If this were not so, how could they possibly hope to survive? To help them achieve this balance, they have developed an outlook of nature as metaphysic.

The Alaska Native worldviews and technologies are conducive to living in harmony with the universe. Their lives, subsistence methods, and technology were devised to edify their worldview. After all, the Alaska Native Creator is the Raven. So, how could the human being be superior to the creatures of Mother Earth? How could their hunting and trapping implements be made of offensive materials to animals that they have to kill in order to live? Thus, their tools were fashioned from resources which were not refined, but formed and shaped using the natural materials. Their tools, housing and household utensils had to be with and of Nature. Harmony was the key idea behind this practice. All plants, creatures, winds, mountains, rivers, lakes and all things of the earth possessed a spirit, therefore had consciousness, and life. Everything was alive and aware requiring relationships in a respectful way so as not to upset the balance.

The four values of honor, respect, reciprocity and cooperation are conducive to adaptation, survival and harmony. The Native people honored the integrity of the universe. It is a whole living being. As it is living, all things of the earth must be respected because they also have life. The Native people had the ability to communicate with all things of the universe. This is called reciprocity. From observing Nature, the Alaska Native people learned that the earth and the universe are built upon the premise of cooperation. Researchers must implement these four values to advance knowledge and expand consciousness. The constructs and understandings of the Alaska Native people must be honored for their integrity on the level of the modern scientific holographic image.

The holographic image does not lend itself to reductionism nor fragmentation. Reductionism tries to break reality into parts in order to understand the whole without realizing that the parts are merely patterns extant in a total web of relationships. The Native worldviews do not allow separation of its parts as each part must be understood in its relationships to all other parts of the whole. Respect for the Native people who formalized this view must be practiced. The Native people have transcended the three-dimensional, quantifying and sensory constricted studies of Nature practiced by the modern world. It behooves that there be cooperation between the researcher and Native people. The researchers must forget about human superiority to things of the universe and to people considered primitive and backward. The Native people must be treated as equal human beings with powers of observation, critical analysis, and a gift of intuition and the magical.

Following are some examples that make the practice of the four values difficult or impossible from the perspective of the modern world for doing research in a Native world.

The tools of mathematics have given us some ideas about patterns and forms as well as abstract and esoteric formulae that sometimes leave us confused and questioning the use to which they will be put. For example, when will the hunter need to know the exact distance across a river using trigonometric functions? However, we agree with a lot of mathematical and scientific theories and concepts, such as the shortest distance between two points is a straight line; that a circle is a line that keeps falling in toward the center; that the radii in a circle are equilength; that the circle has no beginning and no end; and so forth. These are commonsensical ideas that indigenous people can readily subscribe to.

To the Native people there are many things in this universe that are cyclical and describe a spiral or a circle. Examples of these include the seasons, the solar system, the Native timepiece of the Big Dipper going around the North Star, the atom, The Raven’s path across the sky visible at certain times (part of the Milky Way spiral), an eddy in the river, a whirlwind, and many other examples. In each instance there is a drawing force in the center. In the Native worldview, we can think of this as the circle of life. In each Native person’s life the central drawing force is the self (Fig. 1). The self is the profound silence, it is spiritual, it is love, it is a sense of belonging to a tribe, belonging to the universe, belonging to something greater than itself.* Down through many thousands of years, this is what kept the individual in balance. The energy (self) kept the values, attitudes, and traditions from being flung out. It allowed the Native individual to be constantly in communications with self, others, Nature and the spirits to check on the propriety of existing characteristics of life. They knew that life is dynamic. In the process of change in the worldviews, many of the values have remained the same and are very applicable today.

With infringements of new people from other parts of the world, came a weakening of the self with all its strengths of what to be and how to live. At first the circle remained strong. However, with the encroachment of missionaries from various Christian religions, traders, trappers, miners, and explorers came diseases unknown to the Native people. Following this came a calamity surmounting any experience that the Native people have ever had. Many elders, shamans, parents, community members, and children died as a result of these unknown diseases. With the loss of so many people, especially the shamans who until this time were the healers, left the Native people questioning their own spirituality. Was it really the work of the devil and his evil allies that the Native people subscribed to and believed in as the missionaries pointed out? This dealt a crushing blow to a people who had direct access and communications with the natural and spiritual worlds through their shamans. The first rent to the circle of life was in the spiritual realm (Fig. 2)¹, and we have been suffering from a spiritual depression ever since. Alaska Native spirituality can in no way be wholly replaced by orthodox Christian religions, Eastern or other ways of knowing about a spiritual life.

Where the break occurs, one side of the curved line becomes more linear to reflect confusion. Through this break occur leaks for new ideas, values, and ways of life that cause much doubt about their own world and beliefs. A maelstrom of values, beliefs and traditions result causing a confusion of what to be and what to do. The sense of self becomes weakened, thus its drawing force is weakened causing some original and traditional ideas of life to be lost. The turmoil, like that of a tornado, continues. The amalgamation of Western and other cultures from throughout the world are mixed with Native traditions. Although the Alaska Native people did not readily accept modern education and religions and gave initial resistance, breaks eventually occurred. If conditions had been different, the Alaska Native people could have controlled what was allowed into their worldview. But, such was not the case. The encroachment of various peoples and their cultures overwhelmed the Native people. Not only did these new people come with new ideas, but with new species of dogs, plants, domesticated animals, bacteria, and viruses. This not only caused turmoil for the human beings but also caused ecological havoc. Armed with their new technological tools, hunting, trapping, and fishing devices along with the need to make money to buy these “needed” items, the newcomers battered down sacred ideas of harmony in many Native people.

The next onslaught was in the emotional realm (Fig. 3). Not feeling good about themselves because of the message being told them by the missionaries, teachers, miners, trappers, traders, Federal agents, and so forth, they became emotionally depressed. They had been told in no uncertain terms that their languages and cultures were primitive and had no place in the Western or modern world. The educational system was established to dissipate and destroy their languages, spirituality and cultures. The barrage came in many forms from institutions of the colonial hegemonic force. The once proud hunter/provider and successful homemaker now felt little worth living for in their ravaged world. There was nothing promising left to allow them to feel good about themselves, have confidence for self-governance or self-reliance. Only despair was left.

The intellectual arena was the next rupture to occur in this circle of life (Fig. 4). Rationality and empiricism coupled with intuition had been the Native peoples’ forte. Nature was their metaphysic and thus they lived in reality. They had successfully devised their worldview to allow them to live life with all its difficulties but developed coping tools and skills to deal with the hard times. Now with their spirituality and emotions on a downward spiral, the people became intellectually dysfunctional. They became docile and robotlike, expecting everything to be done for them. Their original clear consciousness or awareness was now unclear, as if being viewed through a stigmatized and scarred corneal lens. Things were dim, shaded, with some channels opaque, and confusion followed. A framework for assimilating new experiences no longer existed.

The last fissure occured in the physical well-being whereby the Native people in their demoralized state became susceptible to diseases such as tuberculosis, influenza, cancer, and many nutritional deficiencies and psychosocial maladies (Fig. 5). The foundations upon which a whole person was produced by the culture was now broken asunder with a new fragmented culture, a mix of many cultures represented by newcomers, producing fragmented Native youngsters susceptible to new ideas, diseases and yearnings.

The ruptures allowed some aspects of Native characteristics to flow out or become modified by allowing new frgmented ideas, ways of being, thinking, behaving and doing to seep in. This has caused much confusion among the Native people.

The Native way of sciencing has always been multi-dimensional to include the human, natural and spiritual worlds. This was a conscious effort to keep in balance. Everything on earth, including earth and self, was endowed with a spirit, therefore life. And because of this spirit or energy from the Spirit of the Universe (Ellam Yua), the Native people must do things in ways that no harm nor disrespect happen to life on earth. It then required that the Native people come up with elaborate rituals and ceremonies to pay homage to all, to maintain or at times to regain balance in one’s life or that of the community. They had transcended the need for quantifying and establishing laws of Nature.

Much of the subject matter in the schools’ curricula is one-dimensional because it is linear. The vaunted mathematical and scientific disciplines and their off-spring, the technologies, are often one-dimensional. These tools have the wonderful capacity for new discoveries in other worlds but because of the Western need to learn to control Nature they lead to confusion and a feeling of being weaned from the life force and its inherit relationships. They are bereft of the values extant in the indigenous societies which open doors for new world discoveries. Western mathematics, sciences and technologies do have values, however, they are proscribed to ambition to learn in depth and greed to use this knowledge for gain. This is arrogance, a senseless and meaningless ambition, leading to the disintegration of the human experience. Through them, the more we know, the less we know about life. Which says to me that Western mathematics, sciences and technologies have merely been superficial, never getting to the meat of things. What has been missing from the great potential of these and the other disciplines?

From all indications, Nature thrives on diversity. Look at the permutations of weather during a day much less a month, or year. The climates differ from one part of the earth to another. The flora and the fauna differ from one region to another. The continents and their geography differ. No two snowflakes are exactly alike. The stars, constellations, and other heavenly bodies seem to be unchanging, yet our learned astronomers tell us that many changes are taking place. According to them, novae, supernovae, black holes, stars dying and being born, and so forth, are happening in the universe. The new sciences of chaos and complexity show us diversity of patterns we never thought existed in Nature. These all point to diversity and it is the balance that makes Nature thrive. The Alaska Native people knew this and strove for harmony with all of life.

The Alaska Native people have come full circle and are seeking to heal the breeches that have put life asunder. “Seggangukut”, we are awakening, we are being energized, is what the Yupiaq people say. They have Nature as their metaphysic and have drawn energy from earth whereby things in times past were often quite clear and thus could be attended to or a resolution reached. One aspect of energy exchange that has often been spoken of by Native people who are ill is that of being visited by various people from the community to show care and love for the ill person. They have expressed the feeling that some people will cause the person to feel worse while another person will make the person stronger and clearer of mind. It is said that in the former case, a person who does not have the right mind or balance in life will draw energy from the ill person thereby making the ill person worse than before the visit. On the other, there will come a person who is kind, upright and is with a mind of making you better. Instead of drawing energy from the ill person, this person shares some of his/her energy with the sick person. The ailing one feels better.

Another example of energy exchange is the story of a man out on the ocean. He gets caught on an iceberg that gets cut off from shore and drifts out. He has no choice but to try to keep warm and survive the night. The next day, he finds that the iceberg is stationary but is not attached to the shore ice. New ice has formed overnight in the water between. He remembers the advice of his elders that to test the newly formed ice and its ability to hold up a person, he must raise his ice pick about two feet above the ice and let it drop. If the weight of the ice pick allows the point to penetrate but stops where it is attached to the wooden handle, he can try crossing on the ice. If, on the other hand, it does not stop at the point of intersection, then it will not hold up the man. In this case, the former happened. The man looked around him at the beauty, the might of Nature, and realizing the energies that abound, he gets onto the ice. He must maintain a steady pace for if he stops or begins to run he will fall through because he has broken the rhythm and concentration. The story goes that when he began his journey across, there was a lightness and buoyancy in his mind. This feeling was conveyed to his physical being. Although the ice crackled and waved, he made it to the other side. He drew energy from Nature, and was in rhythm with the sea and ice, and coupled with lightness and buoyancy, made it safely to the other side.

In the another story, two youngsters come into being, and they find themselves in an abandoned village. It has been some time since the people disappeared by indications from the decay of semi-subterranean houses and artifacts in the village. One possible explanation of why the people were gone might be that these Yupiaq people may have reached the apex of spirituality which is pure consciousness. Their bodies became the universe and their pair of eyes became part of “Ellam iinga”, the eye of the universe, the eye of awareness. This could explain how some communities became mysteriously deserted.

Western physics with its quantum and relativity theories say that we are mostly energy. Why then should not our spirit or soul be energy? Scientific technology has given proof of energy fields, personal aura, findings from near death experiences, and many other human experiences. Theory of relativity tells us that matter is condensed energy and also conveys that the world is made up of relationships. Can we not then say that our spirit is made up of energy? If this is true, the Alaska Native person must be able to draw energy from earth because we are a part of it. All life comes from earth. Alaska Native peoples’ metaphysic as Nature becomes corroborated by the Western theories. This also strengthens the argument that the laboratory for teaching and learning should be placed where one lives. Being outdoors in Nature enjoying its beauty and energy, and becoming a part of it, energizes the youngsters. This could bring back the respect of personal self, and if one respects oneself then, certainly one would be able to respect others, Nature and the spirits that dwell in and amongst all things of Nature. The students will be able to whet their observational skills while learning from Nature and drawing energy to themselves. They can again attain love and care with all its concomitant values and attitudes that give life. It is imperative that the students from all walks of life begin to experience and get close to Nature. There is a vast difference in learning about the tundra in the classroom and being out in it. Being in and with it the whole year round, they can experience the vicissitudes of seasons, flora, fauna, sunlight, freezing, thawing, wind, weather permutations, gaining intimate knowing about place, using their five senses and intuitions to learn about themselves and the world around them.

It is this drawing of energy from Nature that will allow the self to again become strong so that the breaks in the circle of life become closed (back to Fig. 1). Then the individual and community can allow chosen outside values and traditions to filter in which they think will strengthen their minds, bodies and spirits. The Alaska Native people will again become whole people and know what to be and what to do to make a life and a living. They will have reached into the profound silence of self to attain happiness and harmony in a world of their own making. Quyana!

*These have been added since the reading of the paper in Rovaniemi, Finland.

Alaska Native Education: History
and Adaptation in the New Millenium

By Angayuqaq Oscar Kawagley

Published in Journal of American Indian Education, Volume 39, Number 1, Fall, 1999

Nature as Metaphysic

For the Yupiaq people, culture, knowing and living are intricately interrelated. Living in a harsh environment requires a vast array of precise empirical knowledge to survive the many risks due to conditions such as unpredictable weather and marginal food availability. To avoid starvation they must employ a variety of survival strategies, including appropriate storage of foodstuffs that they can fall back on during the time of need. Their food gathering and storage must be efficient as well as effective. If this were not so, how could they possibly hope to survive? To help them achieve this balance, they have developed an outlook of nature as metaphysic.

Not only are humans endowed with consciousness, but so are all things of the environment. The Yupiaq people live in an aware world. Wherever they go they are amongst spirits of their ancestors, as well as those of the animals, plants, hills, winds, lakes and rivers. Their sense of sacredness is of a practical nature, not given to abstract deities and theological rationalization. Pragmatism is the theme of their sacred ways. The Ellam Yua., or Creative Force, is not given the same ultimate stature as the Biblical God. Because nature is their metaphysic, Yupiaq people are concerned with maintaining harmony in their own environment. The Creative Force is acknowledged and often given gratitude, though it is the immediacy of nature that is most important.

The Yupiaq people have many taboos, rituals, and ceremonies to observe and practice that poignantly signify a harmonious ecological orientation. They behave accordingly because of what their culture has taught as well as an abiding belief in what they and others have experienced first hand. There are mysteries of the world that to Yupiaq are unfathomable, such as the Ellam Yua, but these are accepted. Such mysteries keep them humble and ever mindful of the powers around them.

There were members of the Yupiaq community that transcended all human levels of knowledge. These were the shamans, the dreamers, and others who were receptive to nature's voices and intuitively deciphered a message which was passed on by myth, taboo, ritual, ceremony or other forms of extraordinary happening. The shamans were gifted to travel freely in the unseen world, and they often would return with new songs, taboos, rituals or ceremonies to teach. They were skillful with their knives and were able to reify their remembrances and impressions of the gift from a spirit with wood, bone, skin, feathers, and stone. These would become sacred objects to be used in special ceremonies. Amulets were also prescribed by the shamans to those requesting and willing to trade for them. These often consisted of animal parts and/or other pieces of earthly creations. Taboos were often conferred with the amulet or medicine bag, which was usually worn as a necklace or sewn somewhere on the parka. There are many stories of how they were used when encountering an antagonistic spirit, animal or another human being. This kind of healing is not new to the Yupiaq people. The patient's belief in its healing power most likely had a lot to do with the results.

The Yupiaq are told that if they take from another persons traps, the person may not know, but the Creative Force will see that people learn of their deeds and recognize the kind of person they really are. People may try to change a person's tendency for stealing by joking and embarrassing him or her in public. However, if there is no change, then he or she might be shunned by the community. Taking another's life without cause is considered a heinous crime with banishment from the village traditionally being the justice rendered.

The Yupiaq people were admonished to never do harm, abuse or even make fun of animals. Since Yupiaq people live in an aware world, the animals and everything else will always know. Several years ago, there was a news account of several walruses found dead on a beach with only their heads missing. The Fish and Wildlife managers lamented the fact that this was a wanton waste of meat and hides. One old Native man's comment to this was that it was unfortunate that it happened, and that the walruses had not been properly cared for. He concluded by saying that these animals would not be returning to earth. According to him, the misuse, abuse and disrespect shown the animals would cause the spirits not to return to earth to be born and renew their kind again. From a Yupiaq perspective, this is why certain plants and animals have gone into extinction, and many others are on the endangered species list.

Certain animals represent power, e. g., the bear, the wolf, raven, eagle and beaver. Their commonality is strength and a strong will to live, along with cleanliness and care of self. Each possesses certain characteristics which set them apart from all others: the bear with its strength, the wolf with its social organization, the raven with its ability to remain airborne for great lengths of time, and the eagle with its visual acuity. The oil gland of the beaver is used for amulets, as well as for medicinal purposes. If a person has a shortness of breath, they can chew on a small piece and swallow the juice, thus relieving the stressful feeling. It is also thought to be particularly strong against spirits, so that merely having it in the hand is enough to keep a spirit at bay.

When the Earth’s Crust was Thin

Stories and myths abound from Distant Time, when the earth's crust was thin, when it was easy for people and animals to communicate or transform from one to the other. Some tell of animals and birds wearing special parkas with hoods. If they needed to communicate with man, all they needed do was raise the hood, very much like taking off a mask. Lo and behold, there would be a human face underneath able to communicate in human language. This was an excellent way of learning about animals and how they wanted to be cared for once they gave themselves to the hunter. There is one important difference between human beings and animals. The animals seem to have not been given the knowledge of death. It is only the human who possesses this dubious knowledge. However, the Yupiaq person does not consider death the end, but rather a completion of a cycle which continues. As such, most have no fear of death.

The following story, told by William Oquilluk (1981), an Inupiaq Eskimo from the Bering Strait area whose ways are very similar to the Yupiaq, provides an illustration of how observations of the characteristics of animals are integrated into the fabric of the Native mythology.

It is a story of "Two Brothers" living with their mother and father. They are young boys always roaming around their environment. One day the boys are walking amongst the trees when they spot a camp robber nest. The younger boy says to his brother that these birds always steal from the camps and that he will sharpen a stick and kill the young birds. This he does. He climbs the tree and as each bird opens its mouth, he thrusts the stick down their throats killing them. Finally, there is only one left and the older brother forces the younger boy down, thereby saving one bird. Meanwhile, the parents are flying around making frantic noises.

One winter, when the boys are hiking around they spot a rabbit. They give it chase. They get separated and are lost. Many animals help each boy during the year. They are invited to homes very often housing small people. They are housed and fed for a few days. When it is time for them to leave, they are told to go a certain distance before looking back. One time when leaving a home, they looked back and saw a beaver house with two beavers swimming about.

The younger brother ended up in a large community house with many couples living inside. He stayed with them many days. Finally, the eldest man said that he hasn't much time to live, and that the boy will have to leave. The wife tells him how he had killed her children, save one. Because one had been left alive, she would spare his life, but he would have to take the girl as his wife. The little human beings changed to a variety of birds, and left in pairs each singing its own special song. He turned to look at the girl. She had changed to a full sized human being. They departed and went to their camp which turned out to be quite close by.

The older brother is shown by others the direction to go home. He soon joined the other brother. They grew to a ripe old age, and eventually the older brother died followed closely by his younger brother. The latter slipped into another world and immediately saw his brother walking toward him. He could see that his brother had a cut on his lip. He noticed that he too had a similar cut. He told his brother that this was his punishment for killing those birds. They pondered the question of where they should go. The older loved the land, while the younger felt at home in the ocean. They decided that they would separate and go to the place of their liking. The older brother became a rabbit, the younger a seal. To this day they are classified together as they both have cleft lips and are brothers!

Mythology is an invaluable pedagogical tool which transcends time. As the storyteller talks, the Yupiaq listeners are thrust into the world of imagination. As the story unfolds, it becomes a part of their present. As you imagine and visualize in the mind's eye, how could you not become a part of it and it a part of you? There is no separation. The story and words contain the epistemological webbing; how is it we got to know these truths? The storyteller's inflections, play on words, and actions give special meaning to the listener. How the participants are to act and interact in the whole are clearly conveyed. To the outsider attempting to understand the meaning of the experience, it may appear to be merely a story, but to the insider it becomes reality leading to a spiritual orientation in accord with nature. This is quality knowledge whose end is happiness and a long life.

The Yupiaq people are admonished not to take themselves too seriously, but to laugh at themselves, with others, and make light of a lot of life's triumphs and tribulations. Joking is a necessary part of life. No matter how serious a ceremony, there will be joking and laughing interspersed between singing, dancing and moments of silence. Silence is embraced as a time for introspection and collective mindfulness for a greater and better life. Because of this collective mindfulness, the individual man or woman becomes greater as a provider or as a homemaker. And as rational thinking would have it, the whole is always greater than the sum of its parts.

Through the millenia of their existence, the Yupiaq people worked as stewards of their world and maintained a balance between their culture, technology and the environment around them. Their psychological satisfaction with their nature-mediated technology was on an even plane with their technological attainments. This allowed for nature as their metaphysic. However in the last sixty years or more there has appeared an ontological discontinuity. This is the period of time in which they have participated in the destructive acts of misuse, abuse and disrespect of the ecological processes which produce life in their environment. How did they come about making this destruction of life? What has happened to cause their social organization to disintegrate with concomitant decay of their morality and disillusionment with their way of life?

Yupiaq Lifeways

Traditionally, men and women had very defined roles. The man was the provider, the one to work with nature in hunting and trapping. It was a solitary effort—solitary in that he did many activities by himself, but in reality was always accompanied by spirits and in close contact with the animals and earth. His role as provider was to learn as much as possible from his father, extended family members, elders and others, so as to be a success.

The woman, on the other hand, had to learn womanly duties from her mother, grandmother, and others. This included child rearing, food preparation, garment making, observing taboos having to do with menses and giving childbirth, and mindfully supporting her husband. The man's success as hunter was just as much her responsibility. They made up a team, complemented one another, and were very much equal in standing. The community members bondedness to each other was mutual, adding to their wholeness and vitality.

When a child was born, the name of a recently deceased person was anointed to the newborn by pouring a little water into the mouth or sometimes sprinkling onto the head. Thereafter, that was his/her name. The gender was unimportant. The relatives called the baby by that name and the kinship term associated with the person whose name was bestowed on the child. For example, if the deceased person's wife addressed the child, she would address it by name then follow it with "my husband". Thus a "new relative" was made whether blood related or not.

The traditional houses in which families lived were constructed of sod in a semi-subterranean fashion. A high, dry location was chosen, a circular hole dug down three to four feet in depth, and then a framework of driftwood was constructed. Sod was cut and carried to the site and placed on the wood frame with the vegetation covered side next to the wood. Sometimes grass was placed between to serve as a natural vapor barrier. An opening at the top was covered with a seal or walrus gut canopy. This was removed when a fire was made in the firepit for cooking or a fire bath. The house was a circular and domed structure with an enclosed entranceway much like the snow igloos of Northern Canada.

The structure of the Yupiaq sod house has been likened to the woman's reproductive system. The ceiling's name in the Yupiaq language means "the above covering" a term which is now used to mean "heaven." The skylight is likened to the umbilical cord leading to the Ellam Yua, the interior to the womb, and the tunnel-like entrance to the birth canal, or "the way to go out." In the old days, when a person died, he or she was never removed through the entranceway, but through the skylight. The body was lifted and passed through the opening to the place of interment. The act was very symbolic of the spirit's journey to the spiritual land. The body was then placed with knees to the chest and arms around the knees bound together at the wrists—a fetal position, signifying completion of the life cycle and readiness for reincarnation and renewal. The body was then covered with driftwood or rocks, or sometimes with wooden planks, a canoe or kayak overturned with the body inside.

The qasegiq, or community house, was mainly the domain of men and boys prior to puberty. This is where much of the storytelling, teaching of arts and crafts, tests of skill and strength, and learning of rituals and ceremonies took place. It was the site of reintegration and renewal of spirit and where balancing occurred. When special ceremonies were conducted, participants from other villages were invited. The whole community and visitors from invited communities all participated and enjoyed the generosity of the host village. They renewed acquaintances and made new friendships, acknowledged the unseen greater powers, paid respects to their ancestors, celebrated the animal spirits, and even made a few marriage arrangements. The ceremonies reaffirmed the truths that the people chose to live by.

Much of man's and woman's activities were patterned to the landscape. For those living on the upper riverine systems, the activities were bound to catching and perserving fish and hunting for land animals. Those on the coast hunted sea mammals, fish and seasonal birds and eggs. The technological tools and implements were made from natural resources most abundant in their location, or were gained in trade from other areas. The materials consisted of wood, bone, stone and skin, or sometimes nature-refined copper. They may have intuitively known that their technology would be restricted to unrefined natural resources, and that this would conform to their nature-adaptive orientation.

They may have observed themselves and others aging, tools wearing out, rivers getting shallow and changing course, trails where nothing grew, and that death and decay occured everywhere. When a certain amount of matter and energy are no longer in usable state, some degradation is inevitable. Were they to refine natural resources, they would speed up the entropic process.

A few years ago, there was an old Native man on the Kobuk River speaking about the tundra fires raging about the state. He said that the earth is like a human being; it is aging, its skin is drying and greying. Therefore the fires never burn themselves out, rather they have to have firefighters or heavy rains put them out. He recalled fires years ago that naturally burned themselves out because of lush greenery and moisture. He talked of the earth as a living being, aging, decaying, and perhaps, needing to be renewed. The Creative Force has not the patience nor compassion to accept a people that defile and destroy, and will take the shortest route to heal a festering sore.

Consequences of Adaptation

The encroachment of Western civilization in the Yupiaq world changed a people that did not seek changing. The Yupiaq peoples’ systems of education, governance, spirituality, economy, being and behavior were very much in conformity with their philosophy of life and provided for harmonious living. The people were satisfied with the quality of their life and felt that their technology was in accord with it. The culture—and nature—mediated technology was geared to a sustainable level of self-sufficiency.

The people in general were sufficiently content with their lifestyle that they did not readily accept Eurocentric education and religions when the first envoys of the dominant society set foot in their land. Eurocentric knowledge and technological might did not bring the Yupiaq people to compliance—rather it was the incomprehensible diseases that decimated the people. A great number of elders, mothers and/or fathers, shamans and children succumbed to these new diseases. Whole villages were wiped out. The missionaries began to open orphanages and schools for the newly dislocated exiles in their own land. A hospital was located on the Kuskokwim river near Akiak and the Moravian Church established a “Children’s Home” a short distance up river. The Federal Bureau of Education established “contract schools” with religious organizations. Money was paid to these organizations to establish schools and pay for the missionary teachers. The children were taught a new language (English) along with new knowledge and skills to become servants to the newcomers’ needs and as laborers for newly established businesses. The Compulsory School Attendance Law was enacted, requiring families to remain in one location for many months of the year, thus ending the Native peoples’ practice of moving from place to place according to the seasons and migration patterns. The restrictive law initiated a twelve-year sentence given all Native children to attend school. Today, that sentence has increased to thirteen, including kindergarten. This has greatly reduced the freedom of people to be who they are, to learn traditional values and to living in harmony with their environment. It has meant that the families and children no longer experience the great freedom of earlier times.

The schools do not require that the Yupaiq children learn their own languages and lifeways, but rather they are expected to learn a foreign language and the related humanities and sciences. The majority of teachers are from the outside world and have little or no knowledge of the people with whom they are going to be working. To the original people of the land, these are an immigrant people with a different way of being, thinking, behaving and doing from the Yupiaq. Few teachers recognize that the indigenous Yupiaq are not like other European ethnic groups, such as the Irish, French, or Italians, who have chosen to leave their homeland. By not teaching the Yupiaq youngsters their own language and way of doings things, the classroom teachers are telling them that their language, knowledge and skills are of little importance. The students begin to think of themselves as being less than other people. After all, they are expected to learn through a language other than their own, to learn values that are in conflict with their own, and to learn a “better” way of seeing and doing things. They are taught the "American Dream" which, in their case, is largely unattainable, without leaving behind who they are.

The messages from the school, the media and other manifestations of Eurocentric society present Yupiaq students with an unreal picture of the outside world, as well as a distorted view of their own, which leads to a great deal of confusion for students over who they are and where they fit in the world. This loss of Yupiaq identity leads to guilt and shame at being Yupiaq. The resultant feelings of hurt, grief and pain are locked in the mind to emerge as depression and apathy, which is further reinforced by the fear of failure in school, by ridicule from non-Natives, and by the loss of their spirituality. There are many contributing factors as to why Native children do not excel in school. I advance the following as a possible variable. I will do this by telling you a Yupiaq story:

Aka tamani, ellam kainga mamkitellrani, In distant time, when the earth's crust was thin, is a crane flying around looking for a likely place to eat. The sky is blue, the sun is shining, the tundra is warming. The crane decides to check out the weather. He begins to fly in a circle. Each time he completes the circle,, he gains altitude. He looks at earth from a very high altitude. He then decides to descend and look for food. He flies over a river and sights a skin boat with Yupiat in it slowly paddling down the river. He continues his flight and sees a lake. He flies to to it, and finds many kinds of berries. He is very hungry.

He lands on the river bank. He contemplates going back to the tundra to eat berries, but his mind cannot forget the Yupiat coming down the river. He knows that he could be hunted. He must think of a way to warn him when the people approach. He sits there and thinks. He finally decides that he will use his eyes as sentries. He removes his eyes and puts them on a log. He instructs the eyes by telling them, "Now when you see people coming down the river, you warn me. I will come down and get you and fly off."

After telling them so, he goes back to the tundra and starts to eat berries. Soon he hears his eyes shout, "Crane, crane, there are people coming down the river!" He hurries down, finds his eyes and plucks them back in the sockets. He looks. There is only a log drifting down the river. The branches must have resembled people. He gets upset and says to his eyes, "Now you be very careful and make sure they are people before you call for me." He goes back to the tundra and eats. Soon, he hears his eyes calling him, "Crane, crane, there is a boat with people in it coming down the river. Come quick!" He hurries down to the log and picks up his eyes and looks. There is only a chunk of tundra drifting down. Tufts of grass move up and down with movements of the clump of tundra.

"Now, look eyes you have made a second mistake. Look very carefully before you call for me. I'm going back to eat some more berries."

Soon afterward, the eyes call, "Crane, crane, people are coming down the river in a boat." This time the crane does not heed the call. He is thinking, "Well, I suppose they see something else that might resemble a boat and people. This time I won't respond." He continues to eat. Soon the eyes call, "Crane, crane, the people are almost upon us. Come quick." He does not answer.

Some time elapses, then he hears the eyes calling from a distance, "Crane, crane, the people have us, and their taking us down the river."

The crane runs down to the riverbank and finds the log. He feels around, but there are no eyes. He sits down and thinks, "What am I going to do for eyes?" After much thought and consternation at not being able to see, he ambles back to the tundra. A thought occurs to him, "Why not try berries for eyes?" With that he finds blackberries. He plops them into his eye sockets. Lo and behold, he sees, but the world is different shades of black and grey. This can't be, so, he disposes of the blackberries. He finds salmonberries, and tries them. But the world is orange with its color variations and does not look right. So, he gets rid of them. He tries cranberries, but again the world is not the right color. It shows a place of red hues.

Finally, he tries blueberries. This time, the skies are blue, the tundra is green and varied in color, the clouds are white. Whew, these are to be his eyes. And, that is how the crane got BLUE eyes.

This is very mythical (as defined by Joseph Campbell) and magical. The myth is an analogical way of relating to their environment; it reflects the human minds response to the world; it has to do with understanding; and it tells them that we humans have the heavy load of intelligence and responsibility to have a beautiful world to inspire them; and it is healing. The Yupiat people accepted this on faith because of the need to know and understand. To them, it made beautiful sense. If these people believe in a worldview that includes a language, an ecosophy, epistemology, and ecopsychology all contingent on Nature, so why should the things of Nature not be understandable and interchangeable. All have a spirit therefore a consciousness, an awareness of the world around them. So, the eyes are able to communicate, perhaps, not verbally but maybe through unsaid words. To the Yupiat listening not only with the ears but with the mind and heart were essential to become aware of patterns of events that natural laws describe. The sun will rise and descend each day, the earth will continue to revolve around the sun, the spruce seeds will germinate, and so forth. These recurring phenomena will continue to occur in a given way. We accept these on faith that life is science.

Case in point is the crane flying in circles and ascending. The Yupiat knew that the tundra warms under the sun. This becomes visible as one looks out across the tundra. One can see a disturbance over the tundra, heat waves rising. They know the scientific principle that hot air rises. This is the principle that the crane is using to get high into the air to look around. Is he not a scientist? Nature is science, science is nature.

The Eurocentric scientists tell us that a gene or a combination thereof will produce an eye. After seeing this happen time and again, we accept on faith. We will never understand the creative design behind the genetic mechanism for producing the eye, just as we will never know what creative forces or what entity started the physical laws into motion to bring about the "big bang". The scientific laws of nature merely explain or describe what physicists, astronomers, astrophysicists and others have observed. The preconditions leading to this phenomenon has not been seen and are unimaginable. The Yupiat accept that which is unknowable, uncontrollable and immeasurable.

The Eurocentric scientists tell us many things, such as that there are particles in the atom that are so small that no one will ever be able to see. They exist only in mathematical statistics. But, we as a people accept these on faith. Do mathematics and physics really exist in Nature, or are they merely constructs of the human rational mind to try to make sense of this world? The important aspect to consider is that the modern creative scientist only deals with the physical and intellectual essences, in other words the outer ecology. In addition, the modern scientist makes theories based on sometimes limited facts, and these theories are made to fit their constructed technocratic societies. They do NOT necessarily fit reality. If these socio-politico-economics and scientific theories do not describe reality, they most certainly will not work in tribal societies because they are transrational. Perceptions can be far removed from what is real, and in Yupiaq thought are incomplete and often erroneous knowledge. This fragmentary approach disassociates them from the whole. In trying to understand the parts to understand the whole, and their scientific methods skew their way of looking at things. Their assumptions and expectations muddle their efforts to see things as they really are. The Native creative mythology deals with the whole – physical, intellectual, emotional and spiritual of inner and outer ecologies. The Native person realizes that he/she is a microcosm of the whole, the universe. Therein lies the ultimate difference between the two.

Another problem is that the scientist’s own identity remains a mystery. They try to control nature for narrow dehumanizing purposes. They invent antibiotics and weapons of mass destruction. Their lack of self knowledge leads itself to nature keeping its secrets when we most need to let the book of Nature speak for itself.

The above Yupiaq story is a creative mythology of our ancestors. But is not the physicist who creates the statistics of unseen particles a creative mythologist? Is not the genetic microbiologist who determines what gene(s) cause alzeheimer’s a creative mythologist? Is not the microbiologist who creates a clone of a dog, not a creative mythologist? This latter thrusts me into the technomechanistic world whereby things discovered are rendered into useful tools and gadgets, such as the 747 jet, the snow machine, outboard motor, cloning living things, antibiotics, flouride toothpaste, skyscraper buildings, and plastic raincoat. All are intensive in the use of natural resources and energy. They do not consider that the natural resources and energy sources of Mother Earth are finite, but the ultimate is to gain control over Nature and manipulate it for purposes of humankind. Supposedly, in the Eurocentric eyes, technology will produce more food, energy and natural resources when they are used up. "Technology is the answer! (But what was the question?)" is a quote from Amory Lovins. Often, the industrial leaders are mainly concerned about financial gains which are driven by greed and ambition. Technological products and inventions are improved means to an often foggy or meaningless end. When a product such as a talking doll, cellular phone, new material for clothing are made, it does not change a small segment of life, but all of life. Psychological and economic change are impossible to measure, just as bad and evil cannot be quantified. Because of this technocracy has no conscience.

Mathematics, and the disciplines of science have there own languages and areas of expertise. Each are isolated from the other so that there is no understanding of interrelationships and interconnectedness of all phenomena of this universe. In fact, each area of study has its own contrived language which make disassociation with other disciplines and Nature easy. In these fields of study are an abundance of well funded research projects generating rampant information and technological devices. But, what do these means lead to? Surely, not to abundance of natural resources, natural beauty, and diversity, but, maybe, to natural degradation and poverty and confusion not only of humans but creatures too. Our educaton skews our view of reality because of expectations and assumptions it produces as to what it should be.

I now delve into the Yupiat ways of knowing and being in harmony with Mother Earth. I have enclosed a diagram of a tetrahedral metaphor of the Alaska Native worldview.

I have drawn a circle representing the universe or circle of life. The circle represents togetherness which has no beginning and no end. On this circle are represented the human, natural and spiritual worlds. There are two way arrows between them as well as to the worldview at the apex of the tetrahedral. These two way arrows depict communications between all these functions to maintain balance. The Yupiat say Yuluni pitallkertugluni , “Living a life that feels just right”. One has to be in constant communications with each of the realms to know that one is in balance. If the feeling is that something is wrong then one must be able to check to see what might be the cause for unease or dis-ease. If the feeling of being just right comes instinctively and this feeling permeates your whole being, then you have attained balance. This means that one does not question the other functions intellectually, but that one merges spiritually and emotionally with the others. The circle brings all into one mind. In the Yupiat thought world, everything of Mother Earth possesses a spirit. This spirit is consciousness, an awareness. So the wind, river, rabbit, amoeba, star, lily, and so forth possess a spirit. The human consciousness with its ability to merge into one with all consciousnesses of this world produce the holotropic mind. The holistic mind is given to the nurturance of health, and an environmental ethic.

Thus, if all possess a spirit/soul, then all possess consciousness and the power that it gives to its physical counterpart. It allows the Native person to have the ability to have the aid of the spirit to do extraordinary feats of righting an unbalanced individual psyche, community disease, or loss of communication with the spiritual and natural world through irreverence toward beings of Nature. Harry Robinson (Robinson, 1992) calls this nature power, the life-sustaining spirituality. Dr. Grof refers to “power animals” (Grof, 1993) which gives its possessor the power to communicate with them, adopting aspects of their wisdom or power, and re-establishing links with them when the connection has been lost through negligence or lack of reverence, or by offending either the animal spirits or one of the greater spirits of the natural world. These are not available through Eurocentric scientific research methods but only through the ancient art of shamanism or Nature thought. From this you can see that when we rely on Eurocentric means of research, it is a limiting factor, and this is what our institutions of higher learning espouse and teach. All areas of social and scientific research teach one way of trying to learn and understand phenomena. Our technological and scientific training imprison the students minds to its understandings much to the detriment of the learners who enter the mainstream Eurocentric world to become its unerring members of progress and development.

The Alaska Native needed to take lives of animals to live. To give honor, respect, dignity and reciprocation with the animals whose lives were taken, the Native people conceived and put into practice many rituals and ceremonies to communicate with the animal and spiritual beings. These are corroborated through the Alaska Native mythology which are manifestations of fundamental organizing principles that exist within the cosmos, affecting all our lives (Grof, 1993). It then behooves the Alaska Native person to leave something behind such as a piece of dry fish when getting mouse food from the tundra. The mouse food is gathered in the early fall so that the mouse and its family will have opportunity to collect more food for the winter. The seal when caught is given a drink of water so that its spirit will not be thirsty when it travels to the animal spiritual kingdom. This is done to show respect to the animal for having shared and given its life to the hunter. Medicinal plants are gathered respectfully knowing full well its power to heal. It is also to recognize that these were given freely by Nature and that requires that we share these freely. The Alaska Native person is aware that if we do not use these gifts of Nature regularly, mindfully and respectfully, they will begin to diminish through disuse or misuse. Earth, air, water, fire and spirit must always be in balance. Its elements and creatures have an important niche to play in the ecological system. With this concept in mind, it then requires that we carefully examine the lifestyles and technology that is extant in this world. Our lifestyles have become materialistic and given to technological devices and gadgets galore that are not geared to sustainability. Our modern cities with their network of buildings, transportation, communications, goods and services distribution centers are destructive and given to conformity. Likewise, the studies of natural resources are given to conformity. They are approached in a fragmentary way such as an expert in harbor seals does not know what the expert in herring fish is doing or has discovered. This type research is geared for measuring and objectifying the species studied for commercial purposes and not for sustaining Mother Earth.

In the Eurocentric world of science and technology exist many alternative approaches that are nature-friendly and sustainable. They await the time when the global societies evolve from consumerism and materialism to ones that are oriented to conservation and regeneration. As Alaska Native people and other indigenous societies, we have much to share with the modern world. I believe, it is much more difficult to live in tune with and in concert with Mother Earth than it is to plunder earth, air, fire, water and spirit using the sciences and there offspring the technologies as tools of destruction. With our realization that Eurocentric mathematics and sciences and the resulting technomechanistic inventions impact and change our ways of thinking and present new tools to think with, including the computer and other means of communications. These modern inventions and thinking are inimical to living in nature, with nature, and being of nature. It behooves us as indigenous and minority peoples to learn both ways of knowing and doing, so that we can begin to develop a caring consciousness and a technology that is kind to our being as humans, to the spiritual and the natural.

The question now is: How do we counteract the depression, hopelessness and despair that derive from the unfulfilled promises of the modern world, and what role can schooling and education play in this effort? To address this question, it will be necessary to take a closer look at how traditional education and Eurocentric schooling have fit into the lives of the Yupiaq people.

Learning From Nature

It is through direct interaction with the environment that the Yupiaq people learn. What they learn is mediated by their cultural cognitive map. The map consists of those “truths” that have been proven over a long period of time. As the Yupiaq people interact with nature, they carefully observe to find pattern or order where there might otherwise appear to be chaos. The Yupiaq peoples' empirical knowledge of their environment has to be general and specific at the same time. During their hunting trips into the tundra or on the ocean in the winter, they must have precise knowledge of the snow and ice conditions, so over many years of experience and observation they have classified snow and ice with terms having very specific meanings. For example, there are at least thirty-seven terms for ice, having to do with seasons, weather conditions, solar energy transformations, currents, and rapid changes in wind direction and velocity. To the Yupiaq people, it is a matter of survival. This knowledge is passed down from generation to generation by example, by showing, and by telling with stories to reinforce the importance of knowing about the varying conditions. This comprises the rational side of the Yupiaq people.

The rational mind has the ability to see and store many bits of observed information, which can then be mulled over and shared with others for more ideas of what it may mean. This may evolve into a tentative assumption of how and why something is the way it is. Being self-aware of the subconscious and intuition, the Yupiaq people let it play in their minds until a direction or answer evolves. They observe nature's indicators and come to a tentative supposition, followed by testing with further observation of variables that may affect the conclusion. They know that nature is dynamic and they have to change with it. Thus their conduct of life changes with nature. They pass on the truths to the next generation, knowing fully well changes in interpretation will occur, but that certain of their values, such as caring, sharing, cooperation, harmony and interconnectedness with the created whole of their environment, will continue. This then validates and gives dignity to their existence.

One cannot be conscious of the world without first being aware of oneself. To know who you are, what your place in the world is and that you are to strive to seek life is what self-awareness is all about. It is the highest level of human knowledge, to know oneself so intimately that you are not afraid to tell others of life, and to help those that need help with compassion without being dragged down by the troubles of those being helped. Knowledge of oneself is power, and you acquire it by looking into yourself to see what strengths and weaknesses you have. You accomplish this through looking at your own reactions to everyday situations, both good and bad.

To achieve a secure sense of oneself involves meditation, visualization, intuition, and tempering all thoughts and actions with the "heart," which is on a higher plane than knowledge of the mind. “Heart” can best be explained by giving examples: to give freely of oneself to help a person with personal problems; to bring a little bird home with a broken leg and care for it to restore its health; to come upon a moose mired in soft snow and shovel the snow away to free it; to be motivated by kindness and care - these all involve the exercise of heart. You can recognize people with heart by the respect shown them by others through kind words, inclusion in community activities, and acceptance as a stable and common-sensical member of the community.

The Yupiaq's careful and acute observational ability taught them many years ago the presence of a Creative Force. They saw birth and death in the human, and in nature. This Creative Force flowed through everything - the years, months, days, rivers, ligthening and thunder, plants, animals, and earth. They were awed by the creative process. They studied, they connected, and nature became their metaphysic. It gave them empirical knowledge. Products of nature extended to them ideas for developing their technology. The spider web provided the idea for the net; the snowshoe hare's feet and tracks, their snowshoes; the mouse's chamber lined with grass, their houses; the moon's phases, their calendar; the Big Dipper and the North Star, their timepiece at night; wind directions, their indicators of weather; flint and slate, their cutlery. Certain plants and herbs gave them their healing powers and they discovered that certain living things were adapted to live in certain areas, while others were able to make physical adjustments through changes in coloration, forming a heavier coat for winter, hibernation, estivation, etc., all under trying conditions. They noticed change across time and conditions, and they recognized that they too would have to change with time and conditions to survive.

It was meaningless for Yupiaq to count, measure and weigh, for their wisdom transcended the quantification of things to recognize a qualitative level whereby the spiritual, natural and human worlds were inextricably interconnected. This was accomplished through the Creative Force having endowed all earthly things with spirits, which meant that they would have to deal with all things being alive and aware. Having a Raven as creator of man and woman and everything else ensured that humans would never be superior to the other elements of creation. Each being endowed with a spirit signified that it possessed innate survival skills. It had the will to live, propagate, and care for itself, thus the need to respect everything and to have taboos, rituals, and ceremonies to keep the three realms in balance.

Nature's indicators and voices give much knowledge for making a living, but the intuitive and spiritual knowledge gives wisdom to make a life. Therein lies the strength and tenacity with which the Yupiaq people continue to maintain their identity, despite assaults on the philosophical, epistemological, ontological, economical and technological fronts. Their template has certainly eroded, but the continuity of their ways to comfort and create harmony persists. As long as the Yupiaq peoples' spirituality is intact, they will withstand.

A Yupiaq Educational System

If the Yupiaq people are to really exercise the option of educational control it will require that the schools become Yupiaq controlled, Yupiaq administered, and Yupiaq in practice. Outsiders have to realize that outsiders' control, and the resulting forms of curricula and teaching are not well synchronized to Native consciousness. The Yupiaq people have not been dehumanized to the level that they are unable to devise and implement their own programs to release them from the clutches of poverity and self-degradation. Why should someone from the outside come in with foreign values and forms of consciousness and impose them upon another? The people know their reality far better than anyone else. The Eurocentric models of education and progress have not been able to bring to fruition their promises, so they must acquiesce in their "cognitive imperialism" and allow the Yupiaq people an opportunity to plan and work for their own destiny.

It is for the Yupiaq people to strive for an educational system which recognizes their language and their culture, including their methods of doing science, by which they have learned from their environment and have lived in harmony with it. They do not have to become someone else to become members of the global society, but can continue to be their own people. Yupiaq spiritual values are still applicable today because they are nature-based. Yupiaq consciousness has enabled them to be survivors for many thousands of years up through the 20th century. This survival continues as Yupiaq values, beliefs, practices, and problem-solving strategies are modified and adapted to fit contemporary political, educational, economic, social and religious institutions. Doing this allows the Yupiaq infrastructure to expand out from the village to encompass institutions such as Native corporations, schools and churches. The values embedded in these modern institutions are often in conflict with the Yupiaq, so a blending of traditional and modern values becomes necessary.

As Yupiaq people assert greater influence on the educational system, there will begin to emerge a Yupiaq educational philosophy and principles which give cultural and cognitive respect to the Yupiaq learner. Formal schooling can be coupled to the community in such a way that the natural learning that is already taking place can be validated in the same way as the formal learning which occurs in the school. Students can first learn their language, learn about themselves, learn values of their society, and then begin to branch out to the rest of the world. They may later make a choice as to what they want to do and where to live. Given such a foundation, they can fearlessly enter any world of their choice, secure in their identity, their abilities, and with dignity as human beings.

There is a crying need for healing among the Alaska Native people. One desideratum of this process is the need for Alaska Native people to retain their unique Native identities. This is best done through the use of the Native language because it thrusts them into the thought world of their ancestors and their ways of apprehending and comprehending their world. In the use of the Native language, the students begin to appreciate the richness and complexity of their philosophical and spiritual worldviews. Thus, the need for Native languages to be the foundation upon which the camps rest. The camps must also take place in all the seasons with the Native elders being the prime movers. The Native language description of traditional activities best convey the relationships between a Native concept and practice.

The bridging camp must not only include Native languages and practices but also Eurocentric scientific concepts and practices. All daily activities must be coordinated to effectively and efficiently teach and validate both thought worlds. The bridging camps must not overlook the Eurocentric mathematics and scientific concepts. The students have to have a keen understanding of science and research as many of there findings corroborate Native observations and also show why Mother Earth is suffering. Many research activities may be for the sake of science or research, but they do show globally stressed arenas. This makes it absolutely necessary that they learn Eurocentric concepts as well as their own ways of recongnizing patterns, symbols, estimation/intuitive measurement, and ways of keen observation of place. The Native students have to realize that our ways of measuring and knowing are identity-building processes. Native students can then pursue careers in mathematics and the sciences but buttressed in a Nature-way worldview giving them a kind and polite disposition to the world.

The following are merely suggesions and may be revised to suit your own situation and needs. Three types of Alaska Native camps are described for our needs. The fourth are the AISES camps that are geared for the Eurocentric world.

Immersion camp: students who have a good command of the Native language or dialect of a particular region.

a.	all activities are done in the Native language only and addresses things done to make a life and a living;

b.	all planning and implementation always includes Native elders

c.	all activities are explained by elders and other knowledgeable Native people explaining what and why things are done the way they are for cultural adaptability and survival

d.	use of plants "and animals" - times for harvesting, how and why certain rules are followed to ensure continuation of species; explain the traditional preparation and preservation techniques; explain how the process contributes to natural diversity and cultural adaptability

e. 	medicinal plants there use and how they have been preordained by the Ellam Yua to have power to heal certain diseases; harvesting process, preparation, preservation, how to use being mindful of the physical, mental, emotional and spiritual inclinations of the person; how does it contribute to natural diversity and cultural adaptability

f. 	explore the Nature-mediated technology of the Alaska Native people - materials, preparation methods, explanations of why certain parts of materials are used, how the idea came about, function of parts, use and care of the item; does it have to be unrefined natural resources and why?, biodegradable, spiritual aspects, how does it contribute to natural diversity and cultural sustainability and adaptability

g. 	knowing the natural sensemakers of Nature for weather, seasons, and flora and fauna

h. 	knowing time, its measurement

i. 	finding direction using Nature and sometimes stars

j.	 using song, dance and drumming for transmission of culture, especially its spiritual aspect; bring to a realization that everything that a Native person does is a form of prayer and paying homage to the Ellam Yua or whatever name a tribe has for the Great Being

k. 	use mythology and stories for value creation and teaching what it means to be human, "the entire process must be value-creating and give a cultural orientation - an identity"

l. 	live off the land as much as possible using techniques and technology traditionally used

m. 	the scheduling must be flexible and determined by the elders to do things when it feels right

Language development camp: students who have little or no understanding of the Native language, or have little or no speaking ability. The process is best determined by the elders and teachers. But, it would seem logical to start with the Native language being used with English interpretations, then progressing to an hour or two in which only the Native language is used. The last week may be all in the Native language. Otherwise all of the above apply.

Bridging camp: adding from the Eurocentric viewpoint to the above

a. 	All or most of the above activities apply. All activities are coordinated to best bear understanding. The tradition activities are not separate activities from Eurocentric mathematics and sciences but are planned to be compatible with one another.

b. 	determine the most used Eurocentric scientific terms and coin Native words for those words with help from elders and students

c. 	in using Eurocetric science knowledge and theories determine whether that knowledge will add to or detract from one's Nativeness

d. 	determine whether that Eurocentric knowledge is useful and applicable in place or is it just show 'n tell/extraneous knowledge

e. 	use traditional estimation/intuitive measurement, recognition of pattern and symmetry without mathematical equations to confuse the issue - the universe is not all numbers

f. 	use computers and other technological tools sparingly, "our memories are becoming obsolete"

g. 	does adding this Eurocentric knowledge to the traditional enhance or detract from natural diversity and cultural adaptability

h. 	does adding these technological gadgets to the camp add to environmental and mental pollution

i. 	does it produce the value of cooperation and harmony or competition and individualism

j. 	in what to include in the camp from the modern world, the planners and implementers should always have the values in front of them "for guidance"

To make the changes indicated requires a teamwork effort between the elders, parents, younger community members and tribal leaders. The elders have heard statements made that life in these modern days is much easier. They say that this is true only from the material point of view. It is easy to buy nets, traps, refrigerators, microwaves, snow machines, outboard motors, and so forth. It is easy for them to get general assistance and other social service monies to buy their needs. But, the elders say that there are hidden costs attached to these material benefits. They are taking part in the exploitation and control of natural resources with a concomitant development of personal avarice and ambition, making them more like the white man. Along with this change is pain and suffering due to conflicts with fellow Yupiaq people. The money will not flow forever, and what will the Yupiaq people do then, if they loose their language, natural knowledge, and their hunting, trapping and gathering skills. The elders say they are loosing the knowledge and skills needed for survival in a fast changing world.

A Yupiaq Curriculum

The educational process must begin with the consciousness extant in each Yupiaq location. The school should not be compartmentalized into subject areas, but should strive for the care and nurturing of skills such as communication (in their own language and English), decision-making (through the use of common sense), analytical and critical thinking, and recognizing that there are many different ways of doing things. Teachers should use the community and environment as sources of instruction and learning. Elders should be included often to share their life experiences and observations. Schools are usually bereft of mnemonics to the communities' Yupiaqness. Artifacts, photos and posters pertaining to Yupiaq people, values, and admonishments to leading a good and long life should be highly visible. Local and visiting Native leaders should be invited to speak to classes sharing what it took for them to get to their positions.

Although exposure of students to Yupiaq arts and crafts is important, the philosophical, epistemological and ontological aspects of Yupiaq life should be woven throughout their educational experience. Art is an important avenue for opening new unseen worlds as well as getting to know oneself.

Science and art should be taught together. The Yupiaq technology and its applied science should be incorporated into all science courses. Students should be given opportunities to tinker with gadgets and work on projects for Yupiaq science fairs. At the secondary level, the students should be challenged to try to think of alternative ways of doing things, such as making new tools and making things simpler. For example, they can use complex technology to develop simpler, easy-to-fix, less expensive, more energy efficient tools made of local materials and adapted to their needs and environment.

Students should be mindful that people are not the only inhabitants of earth, but that we share our environment with "others". All teaching should embrace ecology. What happens to one part of a system ultimately affects the whole. They should be invited to dream and talk about eco-development projects which would enhance the environment rather than detract from it. How might technology help to make the environment more beautiful and productive without artificial means such as chemical fertilizers, hormones, and chromosomal splicing? These modern technological methods try to emulate the Creative Force when we cannot know what the consequences might be.

Organic gardening should be explored using a wood frame with modern plastic covering to grow vegetables and berries. Many fish camps throw away the heads and viscera of the fish being split. A project might include students from different families collecting these and placing them in barrels or drums to make fish fertilizer. The fertilizer can be used to help grow vegetables and berries, with the students rotating responsibilities for the care and maintenance of the plot. Grown vegetables and berries can then be traded for fish, moose meat, and so forth, or put away for special ceremonies in the village. Some might even be used for school lunches.

The students can find out from elders about plants and herbs with medicinal value and begin to cultivate them in the classroom or hot houses. They can explore ways of using the available sunlight during the winter. They can talk about traditional housing technology - what it was made of, how it was constructed, and how it took advantage of the insulative quality of the ground and sod. Modern housing is built with attention to aesthetics , but often is heat inefficient. How might the houses be made better? What materials are available locally? What modern materials might be used as new building material?

Historically, the Eurocentric educational system told the Yupiaq people that their ways of doing and thinking were inferior. The schools took pains to change the Yupiaq cognitive map and introduced them to new kinds of houses, tools and gadgets. This not only cost the people in terms of their values, traditions and self-sufficiency, but as a result they became wards of the government - a despondent people dependent on the “good will” of others. Education has made Yupiaq people consumers instead of producers in charge of their own livelihood.

The time has come for the Yupiaq people to pick themselves up and remember the spirituality, common sense, intelligence, creativity, ingenuity, and inventiveness of their ancestors. They must return to an emphasis on “soft technology” - technology that is adapted to culture and environment. They have been victimized, as have many other people in the world, by the myth of progress and development. Their minds are imprisoned by the modern world, with its syncopating lights and gadgetry that is hypnotic and desirable, but in reality presents a mishmash of images in a shotgun fashion, with little connection to the vagaries of real life. It is time for the Yupiaq to get in rhythm with their own culture. There is no need to forsake all that has been presented by others. Technology and schools have their place, but they must be used with reason and in a sacred way to edify and enhance Yupiaq peoples’ culture, environment and the world as a whole.

Reference:

Oquilluk, William (1981) People of Kauwerak, (Anchorage, Alaska Methodist University)

The Indigenous Worldview of Yupiaq Culture: Its Scientific Nature and Relevance to the Practice and Teaching of Science

Oscar Kawagley, A.O., Norris-Tull, D., Norris-Tull, R.A.

Journal Of Research In Science Teaching, Vol. 35, No. 2 Pp. 133-144 (1998)

(All three authors contributed equally to this article.)

Abstract

Is science an invention of European thought, or have legitimate scientific bodies of knowledge and scientific ways of thinking emerged separately in other cultures? Can indigenous knowledge systems contribute to contemporary science teaching? Here we describe evidence from the Yupiaq culture in southwestern Alaska which demonstrates a body of scientific knowledge and epistemology that differs from that of Western science. We contend that drawing from Yupiaq culture, knowledge, and epistemology can provide not only a more culturally relevant frame of reference for teaching science concepts to Yupiaq students, but also a potentially valuable context for more effectively addressing many of the recommendations of U.S. science education reform initiatives. © 1998 John Wiley & Sons, Inc. J Res Sci Teach 35: 133-144, 1998.

The science accounted for in this book are largely part of a tradition of thought that happened to develop in Europe during the past 500 years – a tradition to which people from all cultures contribute today. (Rutherford & Ahlgren, 1990, p. 136)

As this quote from Science for all Americans implies, Western science has become the prototype for what counts as science today, and other ways of thinking and doing science have been largely discounted by the Euro-American scientific and educational communities. With its emphasis on controlled experimentation, replicability, and alleged objectivity, science as practiced in laboratories and as traditionally taught in U.S. schools does differ from the practice and thinking found in many indigenous cultures, but does that mean that what occurs in other cultures is believe that such indigenous groups practice science in ways that has similarities to – and important and useful differences from – Western science, and that the worldview underpinning this indigenous vision of science has valuable implications for science instruction.

Scientific hypotheses and knowledge acquisition generally have their roots in observations and insights about the natural world. Nevertheless, scientists and educators today often present textbook/laboratory science as the true science. Such a narrow view of science not only diminishes the legitimacy of knowledge derived through generations of naturalistic observation and insight, it simultaneously devalues those cultures which traditionally rely heavily on naturalistic observation and insight. In addition, contemporary science classes commonly portray science as a discrete body of knowledge distinctly separated from most other subject areas and as a body of knowledge discovered by European and Euro-American scientists. This characterization makes science an activity foreign to the way of thinking of cultures in which science is interwoven within most aspects of daily life.

Philosophers of science generally acknowledge the elusiveness of a definition of the nature of science, and in particular tend to disagree with common characterizations of the nature of science depicted in recent science education literature (Alters, 1997). Nevertheless, in our conversations with science educators and scientists in the United States, we have been confronted with the assumption that the nature of science is clearly defined. Lee (1997) pointed out that statements in Science for all Americans (Rutherford & Ahlgren, 1990) and National Science Education Standards (National Research Council, 1996) demonstrate that these important reform documents both promote a Western scientific cultural tradition. We agree with Lee that the tendency to define science strictly from the viewpoint of Western culture has serious and detrimental ramifications for students from non-Western cultures and languages, and we add that a Eurocentric view of science places unnecessary limitations on the development of scientific literacy for all students.

We contend that no single origin for science exists: that science has a plurality of origins and a plurality of practices. In this position statement, we support that belief with examples of scientific knowledge and ways of thinking about the world from one indigenous culture, that of the Yupiaq people of southwestern Alaska. As with many other indigenous groups, the worldview of the Yupiaq people has enabled them to survive for thousands of years. We contend that knowledge embedded in that worldview is scientific in nature, and that it remains relevant to today’s world.

Throughout this article, we will refer to the term worldview as a means of conceptualizing the principles and beliefs – including the epistemological and ontological underpinnings of those beliefs – which people have acquired to make sense of the world around them. Our usage is intended to be consistent with Webster’s new world dictionary of American English (Neufeld & Guralnik, 1991), which defines worldview as “a comprehensive, especially personal, philosophy or conception of the world and of human life.” As perceived by the authors of this article, the concept of worldview is also closely related to the definitions of culture and cognitive map (Berger, Berger, & Kellner, 1974).

Alaska Native Culture and Education

The majority of residents in rural Alaska are Alaska Natives who live in villages with small populations (25-1000 people/village). With some 20 Alaska Native languages spoken in the state, many school students speak an indigenous language as a first language. Many families in rural Alaska maintain a lifestyle that is largely dependent on subsistence hunting and fishing. Wild foods (salmon, caribou, moose, and numerous wild berries and herbs) from a major portion of their food supply, and many rural residents rely on commercial fishing in the summer months as their main financial support.

The Yupiaq (also known as Yup’ik) culture is one of several Alaska Native cultures known to Westerners as Eskimo (a term which has too often been used pejoratively). Members of the Yupiaq culture reside in southwestern Alaska on an area of land larger than many individual states in the contiguous 48 states. There are no roads connecting these villages, which are isolated by hundreds of miles from access to the highway systems that connect cities such as Anchorage to the contiguous states. Despite their isolation from the rest of the nation, rural villages have been affected greatly by modern Western culture. Televisions and telephones have become common. While dog sleds still are used recreationally, snow machines have become the more common mode of transportation in winter, and four-wheelers and power boats have become common in the summer.

Teachers and administrators in rural Alaska schools are mostly Euro-American and short-term, many staying in a village only 1 or 2 years (with a few staying for less than a week). While the villages themselves strongly reflect their particular Alaska Native culture, Euro-American culture dominates the school and the curriculum. In the recent past, Alaska Native students were forbidden to speak their native language in the schools. Indeed, eradication of Alaska Native culture was an early goal of Alaskan educational systems (Alaska Natives Commission, 1993). The activism of Alaska Natives and of groups such as the Alaska Federation of Natives has gradually brought change.

The Alaska Natives Commission (1993) produced a report addressing the educational problems and needs of Alaska Natives. Twenty-one percent of Alaska’s K-12 students are Alaska Natives. However, “twenty-two of Alaska’s 54 school districts have student populations of 75% or more Alaska Natives. . . .In some school districts up to 30% of Native children in elementary school are below grade level” (p. 14). In 20 school districts (19 of which had 60% to 98% Alaska Native students), students scored “on average below the 22nd percentile in either reading, mathematics, or language arts at the 4th, 6th, or 8th grade” (p. 15), and “only about 67% of Alaska Native students complete high school” (p. 17). Alaska Natives who do complete high school score dramatically lower (about 40% lower) than Caucasian Alaskans on the American College Test (ACT). Among the various factors contributing to student failure, the report cites poverty and the cultural and linguistic differences between students and school personnel.

As a result of Alaska Native activism, many rural school districts today offer instruction in the local language and culture (Alaska Natives Commission, 1993). For example, in Manokotak, Alaska, children are taught in Yup’ik from kindergarten to third grade. In Chefornak, Alaska, Alaska Native teacher aides conduct weekly classes on local traditional music and dance. Nonetheless, less than 4% of Alaskan teachers are Alaska Natives. Small rural schools must rely on Alaska Native volunteers and Alaska Native teacher aides for specialized instruction in local language and culture. Thus, most of the instruction is from the viewpoint of the Euro-American teacher, and there remains a wide gap between the culture of the child at home and the culture of the child in school.

Alaska Native Contributions to Science and Technology

Alaska Native scientific knowledge has largely been ignored by Euro-American scientists. However, in recent years knowledge from indigenous Alaskan cultures has contributed to several scientific studies. For example, the knowledge of local villages was used in an environmental impact study conducted in the Alaskan tundra. Indigenous elders’ knowledge of bowhead whale behavior was used to correct an inaccurate count of bowhead whale population in the North Slope region (Bingham, 1997). In southwest Alaska, a group of scientists participating in a public hearing provided data demonstrating that Beluga whales did not feed on salmon. A group of local Alaska Natives (mainly Yupiaqs) persuaded the scientists to visit a nearby beach where they opened the stomach of a recently harvested Beluga. When several large salmon spilled out, one of the elders was reported to have said, “How’d those get in there then?” (R.S. Nelson, personal communication, 1996).

In the past few years, several educational studies of the traditional knowledge and practices of Yupiaq people have been conducted in southwestern Alaska. The Cuiulistet group, an organization of Yupiaq teachers, has conducted ongoing studies of Yupiaq mathematics and science in an effort to bring that knowledge directly into classrooms in Bristol Bay villages (Lipka, 1994a, 1994b). Two of the authors (A.O.K. and R.A.N.) have participated in a number of the research meetings held by the Ciulistet teachers/researchers.

Kawagley (1995) conducted an ethnographic study of Yupiaq knowledge and ways of knowing and doing science in Akiak, a small village of 385 people near Bethel, Alaska. Kawagley is the first Yupiaq to receive a Ph.D. He received permission of the Tribal Council of the Yupiit Nation and the Yupiit School District to conduct observations and interviews in Akiak. He visited classrooms, reviewed school curricula, and interviewed local teachers and villagers. Having grown up in the region, Kawagley views himself as a participant-observer.

Each of these studies relied heavily on interviews with village elders and on the lifelong experiences of the Yupiaq researchers. Interviews with elders, respected for their wisdom and knowledge, reveal a rich body of indigenous knowledge and well-defined ways of viewing the world. In the meetings of the Ciulistet teachers, the elders have often been invited to demonstrate their knowledge through stories and through physical demonstrations of skills. For example, elders have taught the younger teachers and school children how to make river fish traps and how to prepare and sew caribou skins for clothing items.

Much of Yupiaq scientific knowledge is manifested most clearly in their technology. One may argue that technology is not science. However, technology does not spring from a void. To invent technological devices, scientific observations and experimentation must be conducted. Yupiaq inventions, which include the kayak, river fish traps, and a wide range of hunting and fishing gear, represent technology that could not have been developed without extensive scientific study of the flow of currents in rivers, the ebb and flow of  tides in bays, and the feeding, resting, and migratory habits of fish, mammals, and birds.

For example, each item of fishing gear is typically developed to capture a particular species of fish in a particular type of water (in a river, under ice, on the shore of the bay, or in the open ocean). To make the appropriate traps and nets, the fisherman has to have significant scientific knowledge of the behaviors of each species of fish, tidal patterns, and the patterns of flow of water in rivers. In remote villages, most food is still retrieved from the wild. Therefore, all young men must have extensive knowledge of migration patterns, mating habits, and feeding behaviors of a wildlife (including seals, walrus, several species of whales, moose, caribou, ptarmigan, and many species of waterfowl).

Yupiaq women gather wild foods and preserve and prepare foods from animals, which are harvested mostly by the men. The women know when and where to collect wild berries, which provide a crucial source of vitamins. They typically have extensive knowledge of local wild plants, including a wide variety of edible and medicinal ones. They know when and where to gather grasses for basketmaking. Many still know how to prepare clothing, including shoes, coats, and raingear, from skins of caribou, moose, seals, and even salmon skins. Most know how to prepare and preserve fish, moose, and caribou for long-term storage.

Tepa, or “stink heads,” is a Yupiaq delicacy. King salmon heads are buried, wrapped in grasses. The fermented heads are eaten. To be safely prepared, the fish must be stored in the right type of soil at the right temperature. This was a relatively safe food to eat until the introduction of plastic bags. Fish stored underground in plastic bags are more likely to develop botulism than fish stored in grasses. It was soon discovered that the traditional method of preparing the “stink heads” was safer than the modern way.

Yupiaq people have extensive knowledge of navigation on open seas and rivers, and over snow-covered tundra. They have their own terminology for constellations and have an understanding of the seasonal positioning of the constellations. They have developed a large body of knowledge about climatic and seasonal changes – knowledge about temperature changes, the behavior of ice and snow, the meaning of different cloud formations, the significance of changes in wind direction and speed, and knowledge of air pressure. This knowledge has been crucial to survival and was essential for the development of the technological devices used in the past (many of which are still used today) for hunting and fishing.

In his book The demon-haunted world, Carl Sagan (1996) remarked on the discovery of quinine by premodern people in the Amazon.

They must have tried every tree and every plant – roots, stems, bark, leaves – tried chewing on them, mashing them up, making an infusion. This constitutes a massive set of scientific experiments continuing over generations – experiments that moreover could not be duplicated today for reasons of medical ethics. Think of how many bark infusions from other trees must have been useless, or made the patient retch or even die. In such a case, the healer chalks these potential medicines off the list, and moves on to the next. (p. 251)

Likewise, Yupiaq traditional knowledge reflects an understanding of the natural world based on a “massive set of scientific experiments continuing over generations.” Yupiaq scientific knowledge is based on thorough longitudinal studies and observations of the natural surroundings. Traditionally, knowledge was passed down from the elders to the youth through storytelling. Until very recently, the Yupiaq language was not written down. Thus, all important knowledge was preserved by oral traditions which were crucial to survival. The preservation of the next generation depended on an efficient method of learning that which previous generations had already discovered (such as knowledge of seasonal and long-range weather patterns, salmon migration patterns, and knowledge and skills about river ice and sea ice formation and movement).

Besides through oral tradition, knowledge and skills are handed down in other ways as well. Fishing, hunting, and food gathering and preparation practices are passed on to children by working with, observing, and mimicking their parents, grandparents, and older siblings. Typically, the person teaching the skill will say very little. The learner is expected to observe closely and mimic what is being done. It is quite common for children to become quite skillful with a variety of tools, including sharp knives, at an early age. To translate Yupiaq teaching and learning into current educational jargon, one could state that teaching strongly emphasizes modeling and guided practice, and that cooperative learning, peer tutoring, and hands-on learning are essential strategies.

Yupiaq Worldvew

In addition to a body of knowledge about the natural and physical world, Yupiaq ways of thinking about the world reflect a worldview distinct from the Western way of thinking. In Yupiaq culture, science is not separated from daily life. Their science is interspersed with art, storytelling, hunting, and craftsmanship.

In contrast to the idea that science is a body of knowledge discovered by scientists working in their laboratories, Kawagley (1995) found that Yupiaq villagers see themselves as the producers of knowledge. In their daily lives, these men and women are the observers of their environment. There are no special gatekeepers of knowledge. The elders of the community are the repositories of traditional knowledge and they see it as their responsibility to educate the younger members. However, Western culture has interfered with the traditional teaching and learning mode. Suppression of the Alaska Native language and culture has resulted in a generation of youth many of whom cannot communicate with the elders in their own communities (Alaska Natives Commission, 1993). School teachers have in amny cases replaced the elders as the transmitters of knowledge.

The Yupiaq people have difficulty with many Western concepts and the words to describe or define them. Western words come from worldview that is objectivistic and technomechanistic, as opposed to the Yupiaq worldview which is ecological and spiritual. Thus the concepts and word-thoughts (and metaphors) of the Yupiaq people are often ineffable because they are based on feelings of connectedness and relationships. Therein lies the Yupiaq problem with words such as science and mathematics and the various scientific and mathematical disciplines and their concomitant terms and concepts. These all are strange and foreign to the Yupiaq people. Kawagley (1995) asked a group of Yupiaq elders to define mathematics and science.

The elders’ discussion of the definition of mathematics focused on the Yupiaq word Cuqtaariyaraq, “the process of measuring.” The other definitions that were considered reflect further abstractions of their thinking processes as applied to one who uses mathematics. These included “someone who is astute and perceptive”; “an expert evaluator”; “an expert assessor”; “someone who evaluates something, mentally assessing the feasibility and coming pretty close to the estimate”; “becoming good at calculating”; becoming good at visualizing.” Finally, they agreed that the best Yupiaq definition of mathematics would be “the process of measuring and estimating in time and space.” (p. 57)

No Yupiaq word exists for science. When asked to define science, the elders defined it as:

“Trying to know”; “trying to understand”; “trying to grasp the origin”; “trying to find the source”; “the process of understanding”; “way to try and understand through process of elimination”; “a process that is the science of life”; and “a process of seeing and predicting the future.” (pp. 57-58)

Western scientific knowledge has become so specialized that it is often difficult to take the whole organism of the whole system into account. Western culture segregates science from other realms of knowledge and even subdivides science into various categories, so that a scientist specializing in one field may well lack a basic understanding of other scientific and nonscientific fields. For Yupiaqs, scientific knowledge is not segregated from other aspects of daily life and it is not subdivided into different fields of science. To design a fish trap, for example, one must know how the river behaves, how the salmon behave, and how the split-willow of which the trap is made behaves (i.e., one must have an understanding of physics, biology, and engineering).

While the Yupiaq people we have interviewed value observation highly, they do not consider direct observation as the only way of attaining knowledge about the universe. Spiritual understanding is another way of obtaining knowledge – observing one’s inner spirit, as well as one’s outer environment, contributes to the whole range of Yupiaq knowledge.

Kawagley (1995) noted that Yupiaq people view the world as being composed of five elements: earth, air, fire, water, and spirit. Aristotle spoke of the four elements: earth, air, fire, and water. However, spirit has been missing from Western science. The incorporation of spirit in the Yupiaq worldview resulted in an awareness of the interdependence of humanity with the environment, a reverence for and a sense of responsibility for protecting the environment.

The elders Kawagley interviewed commented that

This is what our ancestors have said” they’ve said not to pollute the land. They’ve said that if we’re not careful with out refuse, some animals, though they were plentiful once, will no longer be around. They were actually foreseeing their future when they told us that.

That’s the science of life. We have to take care of our tundra in order to have plenty and have abundant wildlife. (p. 58)

In the past, before the introduction of Western materials and ways of doing things, Yupiaq people practices what may be thought of as soft technology (Lovins, 1977). This low-impact technology involved the making of tools and preparation of shelters, clothing, and food with as little harm to the natural and supernatural worlds as possible. The shamans were the intermediaries between the spiritual and natural worlds. They informed the people of what was appropriate or not in their dealing with the earth. The use of natural materials made all objects ultimately recyclable. The people took extensive precautions to protect the lives of the animals and plants they depended upon for their existence.

Kawagley found that Yupiaq people are involved in the human effort to develop a worldview consonant with themselves, nature, and the spiritual world. Such reverence for nature has been largely missing from Western cultural interactions with the environment. Einstein (1956) stated, “The ancients knew something that we seem to have forgotten. All means prove but a blunt instrument, if they have not behind them a living spirit” (p. 24).

In Western culture today, science, philosophy, and metaphysics are treated as separate areas of study; yet, historically this division was not so apparent. Western scientific and philosophical thinking has often turned to questions about the nature of existence and of God. Even in modern physics, such great thinkers as Einstein and Hawking have not found it necessary to separate questions about God from questions about the behavior of the universe. Yet, many Western scientists and science educators today treat science and spirit as separate and unrelated entities.

In Western science, the closest to Yupiaq science can  be seen in the study of ecology, which incorporates biological, chemical, and physical systems (earth, air, fire, and water). However, even many ecologists have ignored the fifth element, spirit. Lack of attention to the fifth element has resulted in a science that ignores the interaction and needs of societies and cultures within ecosystems. Only recently has ecological study begun to seriously consider and incorporate human social needs and concerns about changes in ecosystems.

Conclusions

As depicted by science education professors in the United States and by documents such as Science for all Americans (Rutherford & Ahlgren, 1990) and National Science Education Standards (National Research Council, 1996), the nature of science is seen as clearly defined and based on a Western tradition. We believe that the nature of science is not clearly defined or clearly definable, but rather that it is largely dependent on the cultural tradition of the practitioner of science.

We believe that there is no one way to do or think about science. Science is not strictly European in origin. Modern scientific knowledge is a blend of the observations and insights of many different cultures. Besides the large body of scientific knowledge that came out of the Chinese, Greek, Egyptian, and Arabic cultures, a significant amount of modern scientific knowledge originated in the knowledge of indigenous cultures. For example, about 121 modern prescription drugs were derived from plants. Western researchers would not have known which plants to test for healing properties without the knowledge supplied by traditional healers (Abelson, 1990).

Yupiaq science is a science based on observation of the natural world coupled with direct experimentation in the natural setting. The science conducted in Western laboratories is largely a way of doing science that is Western in origin and is in some crucial ways distinct from the way that science is and has been done in indigenous cultures. Western science tends to be impersonal, formal, and elitist (only certain college-educated individuals are granted the status of scientist). Indigenous science is informal and nonelitist. Western science promotes a mechanistic view of the universe. Indigenous science incorporates spirit.

There is a large body of science that exists in Yupiaq culture – but it is a science that is rapidly disappearing as the language is disappearing. Recent publicity has altered us to concerns about the loss of knowledge of plant medicines in the Amazon rain forests as the Amazon tribes disappear (Jackson, 1989). However, we know very little about what we are losing as the cultures and languages of indigenous Alaskans disappear.

Implications for Curriculum Development and Pedagogy

Not enough has been written that provides specific examples of methods for making science and mathematics education truly accessible to all students, even students in a remote Alaskan village of 300 people. The National Science Teachers Association now has several books that will be of value to teachers, such as Science for all cultures (Carey, 1993). The Northwest Regional Educational Laboratory has just produced a good attempt in its Science and Mathematics for all students (1997). However, even this booklet lumps all minorities into one category (“students of color”) and unwittingly implies that this amorphous group of students all share the same challenges in mathematics and science achievement.

Rodriguez (1997) criticized the National Science Education Standards (National Research Council, 1996) for what he refers to as a “discourse of invisibility” with regard to women and minorities. He criticized the National Research council for not taking a strong stand in providing guidelines for how to promote the scientific literacy of all students. The science education community must take the lead in addressing the needs of those students for whom research has demonstrated that science and mathematics instruction as traditionally practiced in American schools has failed. Those students include a disproportionate number of females and a disproportionate number of Latin American, African-American, Native American and Alaska Native students.

What is the best way to teach science in Yupiaq classrooms? Many elders in Yupiaq villages want their young people to learn the traditional knowledge and skills that enabled their ancestors to survive in the past, not just because it is a part of their heritage but because that knowledge is still relevant to life in the villages today. They also want their young people to learn scientific knowledge and skills of the world outside the village – because the elders understand that that knowledge is also relevant to the lives of their children. The elders understand that the Yupiaq view of the world is different from the view of the world as seen through the eyes of the Euro-American teachers in their schools. They want their children to understand both worldviews – because they see both as crucial to the survival of their youth.

However, science instruction as it has been traditionally delivered has not been effective. Science curriculum as it has historically appeared in rural Alaska has been based on textbooks which, for example, have assumed that grasshoppers, turtles, cows, and sidewalks were a part of every child’s daily life. Many rural Alaskan students have seen none of these. In contrast, most rural Alaskan students have many experiences with nature that urban and suburban students lack, experiences (such as hunting caribou and seals) which school textbooks and standardized tests never include in the examples.

Science historically has presented Yupiaq students with a bewildering, largely irrelevant body of information in a different science subject each year. Science has been taught through reading textbooks (as opposed to the oral method more familiar in local cultures) and listening to lectures that incorporate many unfamiliar terms. It has been graded competitively (in a culture that values cooperation). Students are required to memorize an enormous amount of unrelated abstract information with no clear use in real life, Because Western methods of teaching science often run counter to the students’ own cultural experiences, Yupiaq students have been disenfranchised not only by what is taught but also by how it is taught.

We believe that one way, and possibly the most effective way, to improve learning in Yupiaq classrooms is to infuse indigenous knowledge and worldview in the curriculum. To effectively incorporate Yupiaq culture into classroom content and practice requires some fundamental changes in the way students, teachers, and schools function. Designing instructional materials and practices which acknowledge and respect Yupiaq society represents much more than just movement away from an outdated view of science and science teaching, however. It also represents significant progress toward the goals, outcomes, and recommendations of recent science education reform documents, documents such as National Science Educational Standards (National Research Council, 1996) and Science for all Americans (Rutherford & Ahlgren, 1990), as well as being congruent with emerging understandings of the teaching and learning process.

It is interesting to note that although these science reform documents pay little attention to the educational needs of specific minority groups and female students, the changes in curriculum and pedagogy recommended in these documents in many cases closely correspond to the changes necessary to incorporate Yupiaq knowledge, worldview, and culture into the classroom.

A Yupiaq worldview, like recent science reform documents, invokes a more holistic view of science, minimizing the artificial distinctions among concrete subjects in science while emphasizing the interconnectedness and interdependence of all dimensions of nature and human activity. The Yupiaq heritage can bring to the classroom a multidisciplinary, multidirectional, and multisensory learning style, with the total environment, natural and artificial, as the learning laboratory.

For example, one of the authors observed the following science lesson conducted by an Alaska Native student-teacher with a group of six students in Grades 3-7. The student-teacher asked the children to design an experiment. The children decided they wanted to know what type of substance would work best to remove hair from caribou hides. They came up with a variety of solutions to test, including laundry soap and caribou brains (one student remembered that she had seen someone use caribou brains in preparing hides). One student’s father, who was watching the lesson, walked out to his shed and brought back the head of a caribou he had recently killed. He sawed it open so the children could extract the brain. The teacher and a village elder present assisted the children in gathering the materials they needed for the experiment but they did not give the children any suggestions about how to carry out the experiment. The children soaked the caribou hide in plain water, in water with laundry soap, and in water with caribou brains. They soaked the hides for 24 h. Then they tried to scrape the hair off the hides using a traditional knife. The teacher and the elder (a grandmother with much experience in preparing caribou hides) continued to watch without giving advise. The hair did not come off the hides. Finally, the children spontaneously asked the grandmother what they could do differently. The grandmother than explained that when she prepares caribou hides she soaks them in the river for many days. She also told them that the brain is used for tanning the hides, not removing fur.

In this lesson, the children combined knowledge from their own culture with experimental techniques they learned from the Western culture. They naturally pursued a hands-on discovery experience. The adults (including a variety of extended family members) provided a nonjudgmental facilitative learning environment that allowed the children the freedom to learn on their own by experimentation. The children pursued ideas from their peers until they have exhausted their options, at which point they sought the wisdom of the experience of their elders.

This is but one example of ways in which indigenous culture can be incorporated into a science class. Ecological themes can provide another natural way to combine the rich Yupiaq heritage with Western knowledge. Oral legends about the land or the animals, as told by the elders, can be included in the lessons. These legends often include morals about the importance of conservation, including respect for the land and for wildlife. Incorporating elders into the life of schools helps to restore in children respect for these rare, valuable human resources. Naturalistic observations, so much a part of the Yupiaq way of life, are also an important part of what ecological researchers do. Children can develop their observational skills with the modeling and assistance of local community members, while also learning the quantitative techniques so highly valued in Western scientific traditions.

The spiritual or mystical element of Yupiaq understanding can manifest itself throughout the curriculum not as religious instruction, but as such things as reverence for the natural world, acknowledgement of humanity’s dependence on and responsibility to our ecosystem, and appreciation of the mysteries of the universe. Learning to respect the spirit of the river that flows by the village is infinitely more relevant to the life of the child in rural Alaska than drawing a picture of an atom that appears in the textbook. It may also be a more precise metaphor. The fine arts can be incorporated into the science lesson in a variety of ways: for example, through the use of traditional dance (such as dances related to certain hunting or fishing traditions) and through artwork (such as carvings that depict wildlife or dance masks that represent spirits of animals).

What emerges from incorporating indigenous worldview, knowledge, and culture into Alaskan schools is a curriculum which can integrate the natural sciences with social sciences, language arts, fine arts, and mathematics in a way which the learner can recognize as having legitimate meaning in daily life.

A classroom reflecting Yupiaq culture looks and feels much like the village outside the classroom door. Groups of individuals of various ages, from young children to the elders of the community, are engaged in hands-on activities, working together to complete meaningful tasks or to solve concrete, multifaceted problems relevant o their daily lives. The natural environmental setting is a common tool for learning. Both Yupiaq and English are spoken, as each has its own contribution to the learning; and as Kawagley (1995) stated, “We should make use of the Yupiaq language because it is a tool of the spirit and therefore the voice of the culture” (p. 116). Everyone has an opportunity to express opinions if they wish, and decisions are arrived at by consensus.

In the Yup’ik village and in the classroom that might reflect it, assessments are authentic. In the village, one’s skill as a hunter is based on factors such as the number of caribou harvested in a day, not the accuracy with which one shoots at paper bull’s eyes; assessing a student’s understanding of basic hydrodynamics might be based on the student’s examination of the river to predict the best channel for a loaded skiff, not the student’s responses on a multiple choice test. Evaluations are prescriptive and ongoing; rather than, “You received a C- on your hydrodynamics project.” a teacher might say, “You nicked your propeller a little when you tried that channel. Look at the way the river comes off that cut-bank and try to figure out where the least amount of gravel got deposited.” If a student does not yet grasp a particular skill, the student might be given further modeling of the skill and then be given another opportunity to attempt it on his or her own. The student continues practicing and further modeling is provided until the skill is mastered.

Where feasible, the elders are actively involved in telling the stories and demonstrating the crafts and practices of the Yupiaq heritage. Teachers and community members work together to assist students in strengthening their identification with their own culture while simultaneously learning to use the tools and knowledge of Western science as a force that can help them maintain self-reliance and self-sufficiency.

Pedagogy that thus draws from indigenous knowledge, worldview, and culture can provide students with not only a locally relevant science education, but also in many ways with the kind of learning environment and experiences recommended for students everywhere.

References

Abelson, P.H. (1990), Medicine from plants. Science, 247, 513.

Alaska Natives Commission. (1993) Report of the education task force. Anchorage, AK: Author.

Alters, B.J. (1997). Whose Nature of Science? Journal of Research in Science Teaching, 34, 39-55.

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Berger, P., Berger, B., and Kellner, H. (1974). The Homeless Mind Modernization and Consciousness. New York: Vintage.

Bingham, C. (1997, April 17). NAFWS Meeting Encourages Balance Between Traditional Knowledge and Western Science. The Bristol Bay Times, p. A10.

Carey, S.J. (Ed.). (1993). Science For All Cultures. Arlington: National Science Teachers Association.

Einstein, A. (1956). Out of My Later Years. Secaucus, NJ: Citadel Press.

Jackson, D.D. (1989). Searching For Medicinal Wealth in Amazonia. Smithsonian, 19(11), 95-102.

Kawagley, A.O. (1995) A Yupiaq World View – A Pathway To Ecology and Spirit. Prospect Heights, IL: Waveland Press.

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Lipka, J. (1994a). Culturally Negotiated Schooling: Toward A Yup’ik Mathematics. Journal of American Indian Education, 33(3), 14-30.

Lipka, J. (1994b). Schools Failing Minority Teachers: Problems and Suggestions. Educational Foundations, 8(2), 57-80.

Lovins, A.B. (1977). Soft Energy Paths. New York: Harper & Row.

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Northwest Regional Educational Laboratory. (1977). Science and Mathematics for all Students. Portland, OR: Author.

Rodriguez, A.J. (1997). The Dangerous Discourse of Invisibility: A Critique of The National Research Council’s National Science Education Standards. Journal of Research in Science Teaching, 34, 19-37.

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A Native View of Culturally Relevant Education, an invited essay

By Oscar Kawagley

Spring, 1992 Edition of Arctic Research of the United States,
a publication of the National Science Foundation, Washington, D. C.

Introduction

In the following paper I will argue for a change in science curricula, and teaching processes, and a need to recognize Native ways of knowing, learning, and implementing knowledge. I have observed and taught in rural and urban classrooms in which science was taught from textbooks, using the scientific method, and using age-tested science experiments (Cajete, 1986). My own undergraduate science education was derived from textbooks, and laboratory manuals. These teaching/learning processes do not, however, take advantage of the students' environment, or the environment's ecological processes. Nor do they prepare the students to recognize a “Creative Force” flowing in and around them at all times. This removal of the mystical force from scientific processes has rendered a society which places primary credence and faith on observational and rational faculties of man. Once this happens, we have a society in which the quality of man and life diminishes (Schumacher, 1977), a society which no longer honors and reveres nature, but often misuses, abuses, and disrespects nature. One could argue, therefore, that our science education contributes to the decay of society with a concomitant diminishment of morality.

Consider the following statement, describing the role of man in American society:

... a human robot; a worshipper of machines, brain-washed by the movies, advertising and television, devoid of tradition, of family life, of self-intimacy; a money-maker for whom the dollar is the only universal value; a super-hygienic food washer who cleans vegetables with chlorine, totally depersonalized, conditioned to live in a spiritual vacuum; in short, a science fiction nightmare and a bore ... (Lillibridge, 1968)

This statement describes the dark side of America, but it provides little guidance on how we might go about improving the situation, or what can be done to counteract the “spiritual vacuum.” Before the nation can give respect to the mystical forces, people need to learn to respect earth as a living organism, so how can we foster such respect in the process of teaching “science”?

According to Carl Popper (Campbell, 1988:11), “Science must begin with myths and with the criticism of myths,” which “tell us how to relate to nature and the cosmos, the act of living, and how to live in it” my emphasis). The educational process needs to go beyond the limits of sciences which are built around bodies of knowledge that are restricted to objects of the earth. This so-called “objective knowledge”, which is based on factual observation of observable phenomena, is constricting of more encompassing thought. In Native thought there is a similar idea, which is translated as “seeing without feeling.” In Western thought, this way of knowing has the greatest value as being objective. According to Western thought, “subjective” knowledge is less reliable because it is not verifiable through the senses. The Yupiaq word, “tangruarluku” which means “to see with the mind's eye”, transcends that which we can perceive with our endosomatic sensemakers, and illustrates how a Native perspective may provide a way of bridging the so-called subjective mythical world, and the objective scientific world. The following paper argues for changing science education to encourage Native students to enter the fields of science, to give cognitive respect to the Natives' applied science, and to recognize mystical sources of knowledge.

The “symbolic universe” of modernity has several factors that grate against the universes of the Alaska Natives. According to the Berger, Berger, and Kellner , the symbolic universe includes rationality or a person's ability to reason things out, also referred to as “functional rationality.” Its branches of knowledge include componentiality, or the ability to reduce things into smaller and smaller parts as they are studied. This reductionism includes specialization in various disciplines which requires that spheres of study be focused into smaller and smaller areas of concentration. It espouses multi-rationality, that these could have a variety of relations to people, objects or abstract things. It has the notion that any problem, whatever it might be, has a “makeable” solution. It contains a plurality of parts or things included in its construction as a world view. It advances the notion of “things can always be improved”; the upward and onward mentality of new and improved. It caused teaching and learning to move into a decontextualized and incremental mold (Gamble, 1986:23; Ryan 1989:391; Scollon & Scollon, 1979:206). Componentialilty or reductionism requires that its constituents have an identity distinct from the world around them (Freeman & Carbyn, 1988:8). These then are the salient distinctive elements of the “symbolic universe” of modernity.

The modern Yupiat possess an inordinate number of psycho-social maladies (Napoleon,1991). Plans and methods for resolution of these problems are put forth from the outside world. These constructed these solutions with the accompanying Western curricula, values, tools, knowledge and skills are imposed from another world view without regard to their appropriateness to the Yupiat world view and needs. This contributes to many of the contradictory attitudes that may underlie the basic feelings of acceptance of the modern technological advances. How then can the Yupiat exert their powers to begin to influence change on their own behalf? We can begin by reconstructing science curricula to reflect a Yupiaq world view. Science, and the motivation to know, is the infrastructure of all education. Yupiaq science has the Yupiaq consciousness ineluctably embedded in the application of intelligence, ingenuity, and creativity.

Literature

Literature abounds from authors of various countries that encourage a modification of the Western world view (examples, to do). These views are usually reactions to the drastic changes on the earth's surface which are due to the uncontrolled extractive and exploitatitive nature of modern development. Vast amounts of renewable and non-renewable resources are needed to meet the demands of industrialized countries. The refinement processes produce wastes very often detrimental to the environment. Innocent bystanders, especially indigenous peoples who inhabit the Third World countries, become victims of international cartels and corporations.

According to a Western Canada Wilderness Committee Educational report

Borneo today represents a microcosm of this global disaster in the making. It is now at the threshold point. An immediate moratorium on logging in Sarawak's primary forests must be imposed to protect the remaining forest ecosystem and the people who live there. Thailand, following great loss of human life from flooding due to deforestation, has recently outlawed all logging. But Thailand, West Malaysia and the Philippines are already largely deforested. In Borneo, there is still an opportunity to set a different course. Borneo's rainforests and its tribal peoples hold answers to questions we have not yet thought to ask. Their loss will have global consequences more than we can imagine. ...No forest dwellers on earth have lived in harmony with their environment longer than the Penan of Borneo. Their knowledge of this ecosystem, its foods, medicines and secrets goes beyond current scientific understanding. (1990)

Such is often the subject of news items and publications. The call is to temper Western consumption of resources in its desires to meet the demands of its insatiable people. Advertising plays a major role in whetting the desires for bigger, faster responding, non-essential instruments which are highly consumptive of non-renewable and energy resources.

Increasingly, these issues are being raised in articles and publications by indigenous peoples from various parts of the world. These vary in subjects from agriculture with encouragement to vere away from oil-based to past practices more conducive to organic growth and soil conservation, to proposals that advise “sustainable” economic development, and getting a re-definition of employment in light of this new direction. These ideas are often very difficult for members of the Western world economy to visualize and implement, as well as for many of the Native people who have been educated in the Western system. It is possible the entrenched views will not change for the majority until a cataclysmic ecosystemic change occurs that makes life a hardship or ends it for a significant segment of the population.

Publications such as Keepers of the Earth (Caduto & Bruhac, 1989), Science Alive! (NWT, 1988), and many other similar articles address this need to include Native knowledge and skills in science education, though in some cases, the type of inclusion is very superficial. This may be due to prior schooling and forms of consciousness that foster a degree of removal from the past in understanding the constructed world. For the most part, our educational systems do not teach us to question the modern world view, but teach us to be conformers. It is becoming increasingly apparent, however, that the Yupiaq villages must reconstruct their own reality to repair the damage that has been done to them and to their environment. Science education must reflect an integration of their knowledge and skills with appropriate modern knowledge and skills. The modern technological tools must be used to undo much of the environmental damage that has been done. These complex technological tools must be understood and used to devise a “soft technology” which is more attuned to Nature. The Yupiat will then have to take a look themselves and, perhaps, redefine the conditions for a quality of life that will fit the new paradigm.

The modern “prescriptive technology” (Franklin, 1990) leaves little room for people to think about technology, or be participants in its development; rather it is left to the experts. Every news medium carries some story that depict social, economic, and human costs of modern prescriptive technology. This is true all over the world. The Yupiaq, because of their relative isolation until fifty years ago, still have half of its members as “real people” living in a real world. (“Yupiaq” means “real, genuine people.”) Because of modern technology and communications, this real world's walls are slowly being eroded. There are some villages, like Bethel, that are already pseudorealities and pseudocommunities. About 60% of the Bethel population is non-native who, for the most part have no ties to the land nor to the Native people. Many are there because of natural resources and economic opportunities to be exploited, including the Native people.

Areas Of Inquiry

The following are areas of inquiry to be pursued in this research:

1.	Is there a reawakening to a traditional Yupiaq world view that is supported by a tempered Western technology to reconstruct a real people in real communities?

a. 	Assess feelings and attitudes about the Yupiaq world view.

b. 	Assess feelings and attitudes about the social, economic, and human conditions as they exist under the present Western dominated form.

c. 	Assess attitudes towards education (including schooling) and its ability to influence change in consciousness.

2. 	How can we reconstruct science education to reflect the Yupiaq world view with selected Western knowledge and skills infused.

a. 	Assess attitudes toward such a change. Enumerate instances of deliberate instruction and discussion, reflecting examples of adaptation and modification of Western tools to fit their needs and environment.

b.	Examining approaches and methods of change being used.

c. 	Cite values expected to be foremost in the development of new social, economic and human technologies which include organization, procedures and methods, formulas, symbols, new words, and a mindset (consciousness).

Description Of Yupiit Area

The area of interest to me is the Yupiit Nation and its school system. This tribal governed nation is located on the Kuskokwim River and is composed of three Yupiaq villages. They are Akiachak, Akiak, and Tuluksak. Their populations vary from 275–500. The largest village is Akiachak which is the seat of government for the nation. It is located approximately seventeen (17) miles downriver from Akiak.

Alaska regions are inhabited by indigenous groups who call these places home. Alaska, the land of the midnight sun, extends from the Arctic to the subarctic. The ecological systems change markedly the further one goes North. The people of the Arctic and subarctic maintained and sustained a subsistence economy (Netting, 1986). The world views of the peoples of these regions recognized that the land was a giver of life. The land became their life and their metaphysic. Thus they lived to the circadian rhythm of the universe.

The following is an attempt to present a way of making the modern organizational structure less militaristic by becoming more egalitarian, cooperative and having a “loosely coupled” organization (Barnhardt,1977:62). Fienup-Riordan has stated that their were many Westerners who were doubtful as to whether the Yupiit Nation would work at all. This, because in the eyes of the Westerner, it lacked a bureaucratic system with tiers of high paid, well-titled workers. Now the villages in the Association of Village Council Presidents region are considering a Tribal Government for the whole region. This, after three small villages defied the Federal and State governments and faced the uncertainty of conflicting laws and a reluctant bureaucratic system to establish their own tribal government (Fieup-Riordan, 1990:205).

A Thumbnail Sketch Of Alaska Native Lifeways & Experiences

Before the time of colonization, the people in Alaska experienced a quality of life that was in balance with very limited needs. Their technology was developed to be in tune with their world views. For the nomadic people, material wealth was a burden, it was an impediment to mobility. This is where property and mobility become overtly contradictory (Sahlins, 1976:12). Today, by the standards of the rich nations, Alaska Natives are poor, but in times past they were wealthy by their own standards. Poverty is the invention of industrialized nations. New needs are created by these rich nations and scarcity is a judgment decreed by these nations to keep themselves supplied and producing goods (Sahlins, 1976:4). The industrial enterprise is extractive and exploitative of natural resources (including people) and it has upset other peoples' economies in pursuing its own interests. The few Native people who are able to get jobs, now working for multinational corporations to extract natural resources out of their lands. Money is needed to satisfy new wants, and the people are seduced and succumb to the demands of the world market at the expense of themselves and the environment.

In distant time, education was well-suited to the people and to their ecological systems. Education was a part of life! It was provided effectively and stress-free by parents, family, extended family and the community (Hopson, 1977:1; Darnell, 1979:431). Every member knew that they would have a part in the community and be a contributing member. They took care of the community and the community took care of them. This education's foremost purpose was to assure that the principles or rules for constructing a cognitive map for life was learned well by all people (Spradley, 1980). From this they would make tools for making a living. The environment was their school, their cathedral, and reading of its natural processes gave meaning to all life. The elders were there to give guidance with natural meanings and spiritual matters. However, into their history came a tornado in the form of Western colonists. The colonists world views clashed with that of the Native peoples. They were told in no uncertain terms that their ways of life were inferior and that these would have to be changed to fit the newcomers values and ways. As a result, the Native peoples suffered a loss of control over their daily lives (Darnell, 1979:432; Hopson, 1977:3; Yupiktak Bista, 1977:71). Education was one of the first colonial institutions. Colonial administrators began to plan the fate of a people of which they were not a part. Their ways were considered “superior,” and in pursuit of their own imperial needs, they disregarded the needs of the Native people. .

The Native peoples were not the initial targets of colonial educational efforts, however. In Alaskan education, the Native students came after the newcomers and half-breed children of civilized parents (Darnell, 1979). In Alaskan education, it was the newcomers first, with children of Alaska Natives next. The priority was established on the basis of the position the particular group of people had in commercial and industrial production. The Alaska Native people held the lowest positions in the labor market. This segmentation of labor and schooling was in effect a form of racial discrimination (Darnell, 1979:445; Finley, 1988:v; Katasse, 1977:112).

The colonial educational system was destructive in all regions, for the schooling consumers and the educational system did not educate Native people for a meaningful life (Kirkness, 1977:14-7). These educational systems were not structured to give knowledge and skills to Native youngsters for service to their people and country, but rather to give service to the colonial government. This cognitive imperialism induced human inequality through the domination of the weak by the strong. It was their intent to inculcate the colonial values and to foster docility and obsequious service to the state. The colonial system left in the Native peoples' consciousnesses a sense of subordination, after having achieved happiness and a satisfactory self-controlled life, it left the people feeling confused and debilitated. This type of educational structure was the epitome of education for inequality (Egede, 1985; Kirkness, 1977:14; Okoko, 1987:43; Omari, 1990:1; Nyerere, 1968:60). Most schools were located in urban areas with dormitories for youngsters coming in from rural areas (Darnell, 1979:433; Pratt, 1976:223). The rationale behind residential schools was to facilitate the shift away from their languages and lifeways, and to separate them from the influence of their parents. Many were too young to really be able to cope with a new environment and this removal from family, friends, and community caused psycho-social problems in later life. As in the aftermath of a tornado, everything was in a shambles. It was a cataclysmic change (Canadian Journal of Native Education, 1991).

Natives have their own way of looking at and relating to the world, the universe, and to each other . These ways have seldom been recognized by the expert educators of the Western world. The Western system is instituted to inculcate Western knowledge and values which, many Natives and a number of non-natives are beginning to realize, don't always mesh well with the Native world view. Because of this, and other reasons, the school's classrooms have often been battlefields for Native children (Chrisjohn, Towson & Peters, 1998:257).

Very little can be done to alter the new schools; the ones built since the late-1970s. The physical structures are basically all the same; very angular, built off the ground on pilings, electric lighting and machines, oil-fired furnaces with an expensive non-freezing fluid within a closed piping system for carrying the heat to all the rooms. These systems are operated by a very complex computer system which often requires expert help from a central office (village or city) when something goes wrong with it. The maintenance costs of these schools is prohibitive; the costs of electricity, oil, maintenance service, and dependence on imported parts and equipment have virtually made dinosaurs of these structures. This is a problem with unfathomable consequences for administrators to deal with in the future (Dubbs & Barnhardt, 1982).

Since the very first Native students walked into a highly organized and structured school building, they experienced a wide range of difficulties. The curricula, textbooks, language, and teaching methods are foreign to the Native student (Berger, Berger & Kellner 1974:141; Keesing 8; Locust 1988:315; Wilson 3). This convergence of two very different world views causes much of today's students' social, psychological, and educational problems. The collision of the two has left indelible scars on the Native consumers of education.

The concept of “world view” is very closely related to the definitions of culture and cognitive map (Berger, Berger & Kellner 1974:148). A world view consists of the principles we acquire to make sense of the real world around us. These principles, including values, traditions, and customs, are learned by youngsters from myths, legends, stories, family, community, and examples set by community leaders (Deloria, 1991:18, Hardwick, 1991:34). The world view, or cognitive map, is a summation of coping devices which have worked in the past, and may or may not be as effective in the present (Netting 1986:98). Once a world view has been formed, the people are then able to identify themselve as a unique people. So the world view enables its possessors to make sense of the world around them, make artifacts to fit their world, generate behavior, and interpret their experiences. As with many other indigenous groups, the world views of the traditional Alaska Native peoples have worked well for their practitioners for thousands of years.

Alaska Native World View

Among Alaska Native peoples there exist several languages and dialects and, concomitantly as many world views or variations thereof. Thus, rather than attempt to describe all, I will deal with the more prominent characteristics of the Alaska Native world views.

The Alaska Native peoples have, as culturally mandated, traditionally tried to live in harmony with the world around them. This required the construction of an intricate subsistence based world view, a complex way of life showing how the human being was to relate to other relatives, nature and the spiritual worlds.

This world view as demonstrated by the Alaska Native peoples, contains a hightly developed social consciousness and sense of responsibility (Fienup-Riordan, 1990:209; Freeman & Carbyn, 1988:2, 7, 19, 43; Locust 1988:328). Their myths, rituals and ceremonies were pleasing to their practitioners, and deemed worthwhile in their relationship to their environment (Fienup-Riordan, 1990:32). Fienup-Riordan goes on to postulate that wisdom, sight and knowledge of power are considered the prerogative of the elders (1990:55) who were honored and respected in recognition of their achievement. Attitude was thought to be as important as action, therefore one was to be careful in thought and action so as not to injure another's mind (1990:73). For one to have a powerful mind was to be “aware of or awake to its surroundings” (1990:74).

To help along this circular path many rituals and ceremonies were made, among which were those of motherhood and child-rearing, care of animals, hunting and trapping rituals, and related ceremonies for maintaining and sustaining balance between the human, natural and spiritual realms. This innate sense of harmony with all things was critcal to maintainance of balance (Freeman & Carbyn, 1988:76; Locust, 1988:321; Scollon & Scollon, 1979:187). A hallmark of Alaska Native peoples, more particularly the Yupiaq, was their success at adapting to ever changing environmental conditions “while strengthening their cultural integrity” (Bielawski, 1990:5). This demonstrates the Alaska Native peoples' ability to construct and continuously modify their world views as “new” Native traditions evolved (Fienup-Riordan, 1990:121). The advice to the villagers would then be to “Take the best from the white man's knowledge by acquiring a formal education in the field of your choice, while affirming the Indian spirtual world view. Revere your heritage” (Martin, 1991:28).

The Alaska Native and other indigenous peoples have been referred to as the “original ecologists” (Fienup-Riordan, 1990:32). One reason for this conclusion is that their world views are ones dependent upon reciprocity; “do unto others as you would have them do unto you” a pledge brought to life.

The cycle of life can not be broken. All of life is recyclable and therefore require certain “ways” of caring in order to maintain the cycle Native people cannot put themselves above other living things as they were created by the Raven—all are an essential component of the environment (Kawagley, 1990). They were able to maintain a sustainable economy because “they possessed appropriate ecological knowledge and suitable methods/technology to exploit resources, possessed a philosophy and environmental ethic to keep exploitative abilities in check and establish ground rules for relationship between human and animals” (Freeman & Carbyn, 1988:7).

For the Alaska Native, teaching and learning was simply a part of everyday life; their teaching and learning were holistic (Bielawski, 1990:7, 10, 12; Wilson, 10). Culturally appropriate knowledge was gained through activity as well as contemplation and observation, and, production of knowledge was also a social activity (Bielawski, 1990:7) This method of knowing by doing and making is is not always compatible with the saying and writing on which knowing in schools is based. “Inuit knowledge is consensual, replicable, generalizable, incorporating, and to so some extent experimental and predictive” (Bielawski, 1990:15). “Predictions” were made on the coming winter's weather, plentifulness or scarcity of fish for the following summer, the coming summer's berries and where they will be most plentiful, etc. This was done by observing and reading the sign-makers of nature, and reflects the power of the thinking Native mind. Predictions are made based on observable phenomena. The Yupiat people do not attempt to make predictions for an individual, family, or community because it is unseeable; it becomes an abstraction therefore people predictions must not be made.

Minimizing Social, Psychological, And Educational Problems In The School

In reading the above remarks on the two world views, one begins to see that their are various characteristics which clash with one another (Chrisjohn, Towson & Peters, 1988). For example, the “holistic” approach to teaching and learning of the Native people represents a significant difference in perspective from the incremental and componential ways of Western education. The modern idea of “progressivity” results in circumstances where “The mindless rush for new tools, discoveries, and physical progress proceeds at an ever accelerating rate; now the earth itself sheds tears of abuse and envronmental stress (Simonelli, 1991:58). On the surface, there does not appear to be any relationship between “modernity” and traditional Native ways of life. However, ways have to be found to integrate some ways of modernity into a new Native consciousness or “being in the world” (van Manen, 1990:11). Many ideas in the modern ideology need redefinition to fit into a “new” consciousness, which can lead to a new form of education for being and becoming. Among these are curricula, policies, language of instruction, teaching methodologies, educational philosophy, administrative practices, educational goals and their realted objectives.

The person charged with the responsibility for administration and coordination of all activities in the rural schools is the principal. Since inception of schools in rural Alaska, s/he has been the primary agent of Western ideology (Berger, Berger, & Kellner, 1974:103). The pool of Native administrators is limited to a handful, so that villages, through their Advisory School Boards must carefully interview and select their principals from a pool of external applicants. In this situation, the “attitude” of the principal, such as a positive attitude toward the people with whom that person will work, is critical to the success of the school system, i. e., is that employee willing to work with less educated people and take risks in innovative and non-traditional methodologies and programs different from what that person has experienced before. (Harwick, 1991:34)? The principal must also be willing to accommodate the “complex and dynamic quality of evolving educational programs” and s/he must be team- and people-oriented (Barnhardt, 1977:61; Fienup-Riordan, 1990:177; Ryan, 1989:396). In addition, the principal must be adaptive, innovative, flexible and maintain a loosely structured administrative approach, and possess a high tolerance for ambiguity (Barnhardt, 1977:61). Most importantly, s/he must be willing to talk to people, especially the elders, to become knowledgeable of their thinking and ways of doing things, to become generous in thought and action, to reflect the will of the people and to render actions influenced by the people, to speak out wisely, and to have a peaceful and exemplary behavior (Fienup-Riordan, 1990: 177; Hardwick, 1991:34-5). Further, the person hired to be principal must embody the proclivity to consensus, that is the ability to “talk to arrive at one mind” (Fienup-Riordan, 1990:214). These are the attributes the principal, as leader in a village school must possess. Hardwick (1991:34) goes on to say that a leader is like a tree with roots composed of integrity, ethics and values. She continues by indicating that a leader with this foundation will make decisions based not only on intellect and logic, but with what “feels right” in the heart. A leader not only has the function of teacher but has an open mind and is therefore teachable. The leader strives for knowledge production from the villagers with the realization that a broader and deeper knowledge base must be generated. The collective will can wield such potential power, but “lack a viewpoint or attitude about life which causes such power to be used in concert with a deeper understanding of what it is to be alive” (Simonelli, 1991:59).

Again, with respect to teachers, their selection must be just as stringent as the selection of the principal. Teachers must be willing to learn at least the rudiments of the Native language and culture in order to do an effective job of teaching for “belief systems are the framework upon which cultures and societies function” and the language is its carrier (Locust, 1990:328) . Non-native teachers may be opposed to this idea, but it is a desideratum if a new consciousness is to be developed. It is a process consistent with the Native peoples' sense of holistic teaching and learning.

The principal, teachers, parents, older student representatives, and community members must collaborate in teaching (Scollon & Scollon, 1979:202; Flanders,1). This is a requirement if new innovative and out of the ordinary programs are going to be tried. For example, close coordination and consultation between the various people within and outside the school system are necessary to produce appropriate information- gathering tasks for school students. Parents and students of different grade levels have to be given assignments to match the students' knowledge and skills (Berger, Berger & Kellner, 1974:130; Fienup-Riordan, 1990:32). This effort creates a team of parents, their offspring, and the community. More importantly, this collaborative teaching and learning avoids making obvious the Native students' deficiencies or inadequacies, which the modern system does so successfully (Ryan, 1989:396; Wilson, 14-8). Self-esteem and self-confidence would rise as the students deal with things that they know about and which is a part of their life. When they can learn about others through their own world views, learning and tedium are no longer synonymous. The above fish camp information gathering takes into consideration the traditional qualitative observation strength of the hunter and the sizing ability of the homemaker in making clothing with the added dimension of the written word. Not only will their attitudes improve, but it will bring the family closer together, improve interpersonal relationships, notetaking, labelling, and identifying skills, as well as learning better ways of using the written word. This presents a myriad of projects for lessons during the winter. This is a multidisciplinary, multisensory, holistic and exciting approach to education—school work connected to the work and play of the community.

Since the modern education's inception in the villages, the curricula, policies, textbooks, language of instruction and administration have been in conflict with the Native systems. The modern public school systems are not made to accommodate differences in world views (Locust, 1988:316) but to impose another culture—their own (Berger, Berger & Kellner, 1974:120). This has had a confusing effect on the Native students. Alienation and identity crisis of youth, and the youth forever searching for meaning are a condition of life today (Berger, Berger & Kellner, 1974:94). New images of modernity collide with traditional symbols, values and beliefs. There is a constant barrage of television programs being beamed into the villages. These establish pseudorealities for the young, and the advertising links up with the desparate expectations for a better life, and because Native people have a less sophisticated sense of deception by modern communications (most often one-way), they think they need and want more (Berger, Berger & Kellner, 1974:141, 143). They mimick what they see on TV, try to dress like its characters, have fun and recreation with electronic gadgets, long to be beautiful white people with beautiful homes, adopt the mannerisms and language of another world without realizing that these are inimical to their traditional way of life (Berger, Berger & Kellner, 1974:143). The present educational systems legitimate what is seen and heard as the State still has educational hegemony. Education must remove the mystique of modernity according to Berger, Berger & Kellner (1974:143), and in the class room start addressing the dehumanizing effects of it (1974:160; Egede, 1985; Gamble, 1986:21).

I quote from Patrick Pavilla: “Education is society's means of presenting, enhancing and strengthening its way of life. Native education must serve to accurately and effectively transmit the societal and cultural needs of Alaska Natives. We must perceive education, not only as the intellectual development of the individual for his/her benefit, but also as a social change which will benefit a collective group. Education also must develop an awareness of the social, economic, political, educational, religious, vocations and environmental conditions of our society” (1982:4).

Shortly after statehood (1959), the Yupiat of Akiachak watched Yupiaq hegemony slip further and further away from their villages. Yupik culture was not being used to enhance and strengthen the Yupiaq way of life. As long as control is in the hands of the State and the school district, it was felt that no change would occur. Education must reflect the culture of the village. This was the wish of the villagers of the three upriver villages. The passage of the Alaska Native Claims Settlement Act of 1971 further complicated matters as it relieved villages of control over land and resources. The subsequent law, the Alaska Native Interest Lands and Conservation Act, attempted to reestablish such Native interests as subsistence. But many questions remain and different interpretations of the law abound. Each specialt interest group attempts to try to interpret and translate the law into their own interest.

The following is taken verbatim from the testimony of the Chairman of the Yupiit Nation Council of Elders (April 13,1992) because it adresses the concerns and problems as experienced by the Yupiit Nation:

The issue of self-government by the residential indigenous peoples is the important goal of the Yupiit Nation and its member villages. Although there is no clear policy towards indigenous self-government authority from the federal and state government perspective, the movement to revitalize indigenous governments is the strongest within our people in the SouthWestern part of Alaska.

The Yupiit Nation was created by a Resolution 84-07-01 of the PINARIUQ Conference conducted by the Inuit governments of Akiachak, Akiak and Tuluksak on the 6th of July 1984, at Akiachak Native Community.

The purposes of the Yupiit Nation were identified as (1) to strengthen unity among the Yupiit of Southwest Alaska, (2) to promote Yupiit rights and interests on the local, national and international levels of policy development effecting the Yupiit, (3) to ensure Yupiit participation in political, economical and social institutions which we deem relevant, (4) to promote greater self-sufficiency of the Yupiit in Southwest Alaska, (5) to ensure the endurance and growth of the Yupiit culture and societies for both present and future generations, (6) to promote long-term management and use of non-renewable resources in Western Alaska and incorporate such resources in the present and future development of Yupiit economies, taking into account other Yupiit interests.

… The United States government experimented with Alaska Natives by settling lands with corporations rather than with indigenous governments. The Alaska Native Claims Settlement Act provided 44 million acres of lands to all indigenous residents of Alaska and paid close to a billion dollars for the rest of our traditional homelands and extinquishment of certain rights. For that reason, the Yupiit Nation view the Alaska Native Claims Settlement Act as a genocidal and termination act because of non-involvement of our children born after the settlement of lands. Attempts have been made to provide a transfer to tribes from corporations and inclusion of children into the settlement in the so called 1991 amendments to ANCSA. Although the amendments addressed the indigenous youth, there is no guarentee that they will benefit.

The Alaska Native Claim Settlement Act forced the indigenous residents from hunters and gatherers to become corporate businessmen in a very short period of time. Many of the business corporations are in the face of becoming bankrupt. Because these corporations owns the traditional homelands they are being jeapordized of being lost forever. I have to say that some of the village corporations are also doing well and are providing limited benefit to their shareholders.

Because the corporations are visible in all indigenous communities, the tribes economic rights are almost non-visible to almost non-existent. Because of statehood, many of the indigenous communities are organized as governmental entities or subdivisions of State government. Although the indigenous governments do exist, the municipal governments are assuming responsibility on a village level to both indigenous and non-indigenous peoples.

Because of the emerging of non-indigenous governments and businesses, a way of life of the indigenous residents of Alaska is fast disappearing. Unless people on a grass roots levels evaluate their priorities through revitalizing of their traditional governments a way of life will be lost forever.

By involving ourselves in the Indigenous Peoples Preparatory meeting at the Palias des Nations July 24th to July 28th, 1989 on the drafting of the Universal Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples and our presentation on our developments to the Working Group shows our support on the importance of the adoption by the United Nations on the Universal Declaration on Rights of Indigenous Peoples.

It is essential that the Universal Rights of Indigenous Peoples be adopted because many of the principals do not exist for the Indigenous Peoples of Alaska due to lack of clear policy from the United States government.

Two specific examples are the right to ownership of subsurface lands by the villages and individual indigenous peoples of Alaska. The subsurface lands are owned by the regional ANCSA corporations and not the villages. Individual indigenous peoples that own land allotments also do not enjoy subsurface rights and cannot develop them even though the same federal laws are used to grant land ownership to individual Alaska Natives as the Indians do in the continental United States.

We feel that through the use of the indigenous governments our customs, cultures, languages and histories can be preserved and flourished into the future and benefit the world community in better understanding of each others cultures.

We thank the Working Group for the opportunity to comment on our developments in our homelands and our opinions on the indigenous activities worldwide.

The Akiak IRA (Indian Organization Act of 1934) Council had been formed on May 11, 1949, but had been inactive for quite some time. In 1975 , Congress passed P. L. 93-638 Indian Self-Determination and Education Assistance Act. Title I of this law allowed tribal governing bodies to contract social services which normally were the responsibility of the Federal Department of Health, Education and Welfare or the Department of the Interior (Madsen, 1983:5). This enabled the IRA Council to contract their local school followed quickly by the formation of the Yupiit Nation. P. L. 93-638 was the needed catalyst.

The Yupiaq people of the three villages may have realized that the role of government is not to bestow happiness on its people, but to give them the greatest leeway and opportunity to seek happiness for themselves. It is their egalitarian sense that set this in motion. In order to try and restore this altruistic hegemony, or self-government, into the hands of the Yupiat of the three villages, the following events quickly transpired (Fienup-Riordan, 1990).

a. 	1983 declare status as a sovereign nation to reestablish self-government and local control of the lands and resources

b.	increase control over schools by contracting with the State; transmit the societal and cultural needs of the villagers for change, revitalization for a “new Yup'ik” (Madsen, 1983:21)

c. 	regain control of the land and resources

d. 	self-government would allow the Yupiat to legislate their own lives

e. 	“war of position”—hampered by many obstacles

1. 	complex issues

2. 	statutes

3. 	policy and definition

4. 	Federal refusal to allow new IRA constitutions

f. 	Yupiaq leader as spokesperson for the people

Ideology and Popular Beliefs had to be researched and reported

a. 	Yupiaq ways of knowing

b. 	research Yupiaq ideas of governance

c. 	speaking out to create, maintain, and perpetuate a well-governed society

d. 	Yupiaq leaders are eloquent speakers

Intellectuals

a. 	Yupiaq leaders are eloquent speakers

b. 	Tribal Council are the “permanent persuaders”

c. 	put into practice the history and framework of Yupiaq governance

d. 	formulate pedagogical activities for strengthening processes

The Yupiit Nation would allow

a. 	self-government and control

b.	 use Yupiaq history to establish actions in the present

c. 	traditional laws to be effected (Fienup-Riordan)

1. 	qaneryaraat—oral teachings

2. 	alerquutet—laws or instructions

3.	 inerquutet—admonitions or warnings

d.	 land management/use laws and policies

e. 	fish and wildlife management

f. 	tribal corporation

New Section (Edited)

I quote from Patrick Pavilla: “Education is society's means of presenting, enhancing and strengthening its way of life. Native education must serve to accurately and effectively transmit the societal and cultural needs of Alaska Natives. We must perceive education, not only as the intellectual development of the individual for his/her benefit, but also as a social change which will benefit a collective group. Education also must develop an awareness of the social, economic, political, educational, religious, vocations and environmental conditions of our society” (1982:4).

Shortly after statehood (1959), the Yupiat of Akiachak watched Yupiaq hegemony slip further and further away from theie villages. Yupiaq culture was not being used to enhance and strengthen the Yupiaq way of life. As long as control is the hands of the State and the school district, it was felt that no change would occur. Education must reflect the culture of the village. This was the wish of the villagers of the three upriver villages. The passage of the Alaska Native Claims Settlement Act of 1971 further complicated matters as it relieved villages of control over land and resources. The subsequent law, the Alaska Native Interest Lands and Conservation Act, attempted to reestablish such Native interests as subsistence. But many questions remain and conflicting interpretations of the law abound. Each special interest group attempts to interpret and translate the law into their own interest.

The Yupiaq people of the three villages realized that the role of goverment is not to bestow happiness on its people, but to give them the greatest leeway and opportunity to seek happiness for themselves. It is their egalitarian sense that set this in motion. In order to try and restore this altruistic hegemony, or self-government, into the hands of the Yupiat of the three villages, the following events quickly transpired.

a. 	1983 declare status as a sovereign nation to reestablish self-government and local control of the lands and resources

b. 	increase control over schools by contracting with the State; transmit the societal and cultural needs of the villagers for change, revitalization for a “new Yup'ik” (Madsen, 1983:21)

c. 	regain control of the land and resources

d. 	self-government would allow the Yupiat to legislate their own lives

e. 	“war of position”—hampered by many obstacles

1. 	complex issues

2. 	statutes

3. 	policy and definition

4. 	Federal refusal to allow new IRA constitutions

f. 	Yupiaq leader as spokesperson for the people

Ideology and Popular Beliefs had to be researched and reported

a. 	Yupiaq ways of knowing

b. 	research Yupiaq ideas of governance

c. 	speaking out to create, maintain, and perpetuate a well-governed society

d. 	Yupiaq leaders are eloquent speakers

Intellectuals

a. 	Yupiaq leaders are eloquent speakers

b. 	Tribal Council are the “permanent persuaders”

c. 	put into practice the history and framework of Yupiaq governance

d.	formulate pedagogical activities for strengthening processes

The Yupiit Nation would allow

a. 	self-government and control

b. 	use Yupiaq history to establish actions in the present

c. 	traditional laws to be effected (Fienup-Riordan)

1.	qaneryaraat—oral teachings

2. 	alerquutet—laws or instructions

3. 	inerquutet—admonitions or warnings

d. 	land management/use laws and policies

e. 	fish and wildlife management

f.	tribal corporation

Culture, Chaos and Complexity: Catalysts for Change in Indigenous Education

By Ray Barnhardt and Angayuqaq Oscar Kawagley

Barnhardt, R. and O. Kawagley (2003). "Culture, Chaos and Complexity: Catalysts for Change in Indigenous Education." Cultural Survival Quarterly (Winter).

Education in rural Alaska is a fertile testing ground for the emerging theory of complex adaptive systems. The newly established sciences of "complexity" and "chaos" have derived from the study of complex, dynamic physical (e.g., weather), biological (e.g., animal behavior) and economic (e.g., the stock market) systems that exhibit adaptive patterns of self-organization under conditions which on the surface appear chaotic (Waldrop, 1994; Gleick, 1987). The constructs, principles and theories emerging under the banners of chaos and complexity are now being extended to the study of human social systems (Epstein and Axtell, 1996), and in their application to the management of formal organizations as complex adaptive systems (Wheatley, 1992). It is the latter two applications of complexity theory that are being brought to bear on education in rural Alaska through the educational reform strategy of the Alaska Rural Systemic Initiative.

The central focus of the AKRSI reform strategy is the fostering of interconnectivity and complementarity between two functionally interdependent but largely disconnected complex systems -- the indigenous knowledge systems rooted in the Native cultures that inhabit rural Alaska, and the formal education systems that have been imported to serve the educational needs of rural Native communities. Within each of these evolving systems is a rich body of complementary knowledge and skills that, if properly explicated and leveraged, can serve to strengthen the quality of educational experiences for students throughout rural Alaska.

Indigenous Knowledge Systems

The 16 distinct indigenous cultural and language systems that continue to survive in rural communities throughout Alaska have a rich cultural history that still governs much of everyday life in those communities. For over six generations, however, Alaska Native people have been experiencing recurring negative feedback in their relationships with the external systems that have been brought to bear on them, the consequences of which have been extensive marginalization of their knowledge systems and continuing dissolution of their cultural integrity. Though diminished and often in the background, much of the Native knowledge systems, ways of knowing and world views remain intact and in practice, and there is a growing appreciation of the contributions that indigenous knowledge can make to our contemporary understanding in areas such as medicine, resource management, meteorology, biology, and in basic human behavior and educational practices.

Indigenous societies, as a matter of survival, have long sought to understand the irregularities in the world around them, recognizing that nature is underlain with many unseen patterns of order. For example, out of necessity, Alaska Native people have had to learn to decipher and adapt to the constantly changing patterns of weather and seasonal cycles. The Native elders have long been able to predict weather based upon observations of subtle signs that presage what subsequent conditions are likely to be. The wind, for example, has irregularities of constantly varying velocity, humidity, temperature, and direction due to topography and other factors. There are non linear dimensions to clouds, irregularities of cloud formations, anomalous cloud luminosity, and different forms of precipitation at different elevations. Behind these variables, however, there are patterns, such as prevailing winds or predictable cycles of weather phenomena, that can be discerned through long observation. Over time, Native people have observed that the weather's dynamic is not unlike fractals, where the part of a part is part of another part which is a part of still another part, and so on.

For indigenous people there is a recognition that many unseen forces are in action in the elements of the universe, and that very little is naturally linear, or occurs in a two-dimensional grid or a three dimensional cube. They are familiar with the notions of irregularities and anomalies of form and force (i.e., chaos). Through long observation they have become specialists in understanding the interconnectedness and holism of all things in the universe (Kawagley, 1995).

The new sciences of chaos and complexity and the study of non linear, dynamic systems have helped Western scientists to also recognize order in phenomena that were previously considered chaotic and random. These patterns reveal new sets of relationships which point to the essential balances and diversity that help nature to thrive. Indigenous people have long recognized these interdependencies and strive for harmony with all of life. Western scientists have constructed the holographic image, which lends itself to the Native concept of everything being connected. Just as the whole contains each part of the image, so too does each part contain the makeup of the whole. The relationship of each part to everything else must be understood to produce the whole image (Wilber, 1985). With fractal geometry, holographic images and the sciences of chaos and complexity, the Western thought-world has begun to focus more attention on relationships, as its proponents recognize the interconnectedness in all elements of the world around us (Capra, 1996). Thus there is a growing appreciation of the complementarity that exists between what were previously considered two disparate and irreconcilable systems of thought (Kawagley and Barnhardt, 1998).

Among the qualities that are often identified as inherent strengths of indigenous knowledge systems are those that have been described by Michael McMaster as the focal constructs in the study of the dynamics of complex adaptive systems: "Complexity theory is about identity, relationships, communication, mutual interactions" (Stamps, 1997: pg 36). These are qualities that focus on the processes of interaction between the parts of a system, rather than the parts in isolation, and it is to those interactive processes that the AKRSI reform strategy is directed. In so doing, however, attention must extend beyond the relationships of the parts within an indigenous knowledge system and take into account the relationships between the system as a whole and the other external systems with which it interacts, the most critical and pervasive being the formal education systems which now impact the lives of every Native child, family and community in Alaska.

The Formal Education System

Formal education is still an evolving, emergent system that is far from equilibrium in rural Alaska, thus leaving it vulnerable and malleable in response to a well-crafted strategy of systemic reform. The advantage of working with systems that are operating "at the edge of chaos" is that they are more receptive and susceptible to innovation and change as they seek equilibrium and order in their functioning (Waldrop, 1994). Such is the case for many of the educational systems in rural Alaska, for historical as well as unique contextual reasons. From the time of the arrival of the Russian fur traders in the late 1700's up to the early 1900's, the relationship between most of the Native people of Alaska and education in the form of schooling (which was reserved primarily for the immigrant population at that time) may be characterized as two mutually independent systems with little if any contact, as illustrated by the following diagram:

Prior to the epidemics that wiped out over 60% of the Alaska Native population in the early part of the 20th century, most Native people continued to live a traditional self-sufficient lifestyle with only limited contact with fur traders and missionaries (Napoleon, 1991). The oldest of the Native Elders of today grew up in that traditional cultural environment and still retain the deep knowledge and high language that they acquired during their early childhood years. They are also the first generation to have experienced significant exposure to schooling, many of them having been orphaned as a result of the epidemics. Schooling, however, was strictly a one-way process at that time, mostly in distant boarding schools with the main purpose being to assimilate Native people into Western society, as practiced by the missionaries and school teachers (who were often one and the same). Given the total disregard (and often derogatory attitude) toward the indigenous knowledge and belief systems in the Native communities, the relationship between the two systems was limited to a one-way flow of communication and interaction up through the 1950's, and thus can be characterized as follows:

By the early 1960's, elementary schools had been established in most Native communities, and by the late 1970's, a class action lawsuit had forced the state to develop high school programs in the villages throughout rural Alaska. At the same time (in 1976), the federal and state-operated education systems were dismantled and in their place over 20 new school districts were created to operate the schools in rural communities. That placed the rural school systems serving Native communities under local control for the first time, and concurrently a new system of secondary education was established that students could access in their home community. These two steps, along with the development of bilingual and bicultural education programs under state and federal funding and the influx of a limited number of Native teachers, opened the doors for the beginning of two-way interaction between the schools and the Native communities they served, as illustrated by the following diagram depicting rural education by 1995 (when the AKRSI was initiated):

Despite the structural and political reforms that took place in the 70's and 80's, rural schools have continued to produce a dismal performance record by most any measure, and Native communities continue to experience significant social, cultural and educational problems, with most indicators placing communities and schools in rural Alaska at the bottom of the scale nationally. While there has been some limited representation of local cultural elements in the schools (e.g., basket making, sled building, songs and dances), it has been at a fairly superficial level with only token consideration given to the significance of those elements as integral parts of a larger complex adaptive cultural system that continues to imbue peoples lives with purpose and meaning outside the school setting. While there is some minimum level of interaction between the two systems, functionally they remain worlds apart, with the professional staff overwhelmingly non-Native (94% statewide) and with a turnover rate averaging 30-40% annually.

With these considerations in mind, the Alaska Rural Systemic Initiative has sought to serve as a catalyst to promulgate reforms focusing on increasing the level of interconnectivity and complementarity between the formal education systems and the indigenous knowledge systems of the communities in which they are situated. In so doing, the AKRSI seeks to bring the two systems together in a manner that promotes a synergistic relationship such that the two previously separate systems join to form a more comprehensive holistic system that can better serve all students, not just Alaska Natives, while at the same time preserving the essential integrity of each component of the larger over-lapping system. The new interconnected, interdependent, integrated system we are seeking to achieve may be depicted as follows:

Forging an Emergent System of Education for Rural Alaska

In May, 1994 the Alaska Natives Commission, a federal/state task force that had been established two years earlier to conduct a comprehensive review of programs and policies impacting Native people, released a report articulating the need for all future efforts addressing Alaska Native issues to be initiated and implemented from within the Native community. The long history of failure of external efforts to manage the lives and needs of Native people made it clear that outside interventions were not the solution to the problems, and that Native communities themselves would have to shoulder a major share of the responsibility for carving out a new future. At the same time, existing government policies and programs would need to relinquish control and provide latitude and support for Native people to address the issues in their own way, including the opportunity to learn from their mistakes. It is this two-pronged approach that is at the heart of the AKRSI educational reform strategy -- Native community initiative coupled with a supportive, adaptive, collaborative education system.

Manuel Gomez, in his analysis of the notion of systemic change in education has indicated that, "Educational reform is essentially a cultural transformation process that requires organizational learning to occur: changing teachers is necessary, but not sufficient. Changing the organizational culture of the school or district is also necessary" (1997). This statement applies to both the formal education system and the indigenous knowledge systems in rural Alaska. The culture of the education system as reflected in rural schools must undergo radical change, with the main catalyst being standards-based curriculum grounded in the local culture. In addition, the indigenous knowledge systems need to be documented, articulated and validated, again with the main catalyst being standards-based curriculum grounded in the local culture. If we are to abide by the principles of complexity theory and seek to foster the emergent properties of self-organization that can produce the systemic integration indicated above, then it is essential that we work through and within the existing systems. The challenge is to identify the units of change that will produce the most results with the least effort. In the terms of complexity theory, that means targeting the elements of the system that serve as the "attractors" around which the emergent order of the system can coalesce (Peck and Carr, 1997). Once these critical agents of change have been appropriately identified, a "gentle nudge" in the right places can produce powerful changes throughout the system (Jones, 1994).

The key agents of change around which the AKRSI educational reform strategy has been constructed are the Alaska Native educators working in the formal education system coupled with the Native Elders who are the culture-bearers for the indigenous knowledge system, along with the Quality Schools Initiative and academic content standards adopted by the Alaska Department of Education. Together, these agents of change constitute a considerable set of "attractors" that are serving to reconstitute the way people think about and do education in rural schools throughout Alaska. The role of the Alaska Rural Systemic Initiative has been to guide these agents through an on-going array of locally-generated, self-organizing activities that produce the "organizational learning" needed to move toward a new form of emergent and convergent system of education for rural Alaska (Marshall, 1996). The overall configuration of this emergent system may be characterized as two interdependent though previously separate systems being nudged together through a series of initiatives maintained by a larger system of which they are constituent parts, as illustrated in the following diagram:

The components of the emergent system representing the indigenous knowledge sub-system and the formal education sub-system are depicted here as they appear two years into the systemic reform initiative. Over the first two years, the two sub-systems have been brought in contact with one another with an increasing level of two-way interaction occurring daily that is slowly building the interconnectivity and complementarity of functions that is the goal of the reform strategy. Each of the initiatives in the field surrounding the two sub-systems serve as a catalyst to energize the "attractors" within the sub-systems in ways that reinforce the efforts of the agents of change identified previously. For example, the Alaska Native Knowledge Network assembles and provides easy access to curriculum resources that support the work underway on behalf of both the indigenous knowledge system and the formal education system. In addition, the ANKN newsletter, Sharing Our Pathways, provides an avenue for on-going communication between all elements of the constituent systems. Concurrently, the AKRSI is collaborating with the Alaska Department of Education in bringing Native/science teachers together to develop performance standards based on the state math and science standards that take into consideration the cultural context in which students acquire and demonstrate their knowledge.

Together, these initiatives (and others to be described below) constitute the Alaska Rural Systemic Initiative and are intended to generate a strengthened complex adaptive system of education for rural Alaska that can effectively integrate the strengths of the two constituent emergent systems. The exact form this new integrated system will take remains to be seen as its properties emerge from the work that is underway. Accepting the openendedness and unpredictability associated with complexity theory, and relying on the emergent properties associated with the adage, "think globally, act locally," we are confident that we will know where we are going when we get there. It is the actions associated with "thinking systemically, acting categorically" that will guide us along the way, so we continue to move in the direction established by the AKRSI educational reform strategy outlined above.

Intervention Activities: An Overview

The Alaska Rural Systemic Initiative was established in 1994 under the auspices of the Alaska Native/Rural Education Consortium, representing over 50 organizations impacting education in rural Alaska. The institutional home base and support structure for the AKRSI is provided through the Alaska Federation of Natives in cooperation with the University of Alaska, with funding from the National Science Foundation and the Annenberg Rural Challenge. The purpose of the Alaska Rural Systemic Initiative is to implement a set of initiatives that systematically document the indigenous knowledge systems of Alaska Native people and develop pedagogical practices that appropriately integrate indigenous knowledge and ways of knowing into all aspects of education. In practical terms, the most important intended outcome is an increased recognition of the complementary nature of Native and western knowledge, so both can be more effectively utilized as a foundation for the school curriculum and integrated into the way we think about learning and teaching.

The overall structure of the Alaska Rural Systemic Initiative is organized around the following five major initiatives, each of which is being implemented in one of the five Alaska Native cultural regions each year on an annual rotational scale-up schedule over a five-year cycle. In this way, the initiatives can be adapted to the cultural and geographic variability of each of the regions, while at the same time engaging the state-level support structures throughout the five-year cycle.

NSF/ARC Combined Yearly Cycle of Activities by Cultural Region

NSF

Annenberg

Rural Systemic Initiative/Year
(1995-2000)
1995-96
1996-97
1997-98
1998-99
1999-2000
Rural Challenge Initiative/Year
(1996-2000)

Native Ways of Knowing/Teaching
Yup'ik Region
Iñupiaq Region
Athabascan Region
Aleut/Alut. Region
Southeast Region
ANCSA and the Subsistence Econ.

Culturally Aligned Curriculum
Southeast Region
Yup'ik Region
Iñupiaq Region
Athabascan Region
Aleut/Alut. Region
Language/Cultural Immersion Camps

Indigenous Science Knowledge Base
Aleut/Alut. Region
Southeast Region
Yup'ik Region
Iñupiaq Region
Athabascan Region
Oral Tradition as Education

Elders and Cultural Camps
Athabascan Region
Aleut/Alut. Region
Southeast Region
Yup'ik Region
Iñupiaq Region
Reclaiming Tribal Histories

Village Science Applications
Iñupiaq Region
Athabascan Region
Aleut/Alut. Region
Southeast Region
Yup'ik Region
Living in Place

Along with the rotational schedule of regional initiatives, there are also a series of cross-cutting themes that integrate the initiatives within and across regions each year. While the regional initiatives focus on particular domains of activity through which specialized resources are brought to bear in each region each year (culturally aligned curriculum, indigenous science knowledge base, etc.), the following themes cut across all initiatives and regions each year:

1.	Documenting cultural/scientific knowledge

2.	Indigenous teaching practices

3.	Standards/culturally-based curriculum

4.	Teacher support systems

5.	Appropriate assessment practices

In this way, schools across the state are engaged in common endeavors that unite them, at the same time that they are concentrating on particular initiatives in ways that are especially adapted to their respective cultural region. Each set of initiatives and themes build on each other from year to year and region to region through a series of statewide events that bring participants together from across the regions. These include working groups around various themes, Academies of Elders, statewide conferences, the AN/RE Consortium meetings, the Alaska Native Science Education Coalition and the Alaska Native Knowledge Network.

Following is a brief description of some of the key AKRSI-sponsored initiatives to illustrate the kind of activities that are underway, as they relate to the overall educational reform strategy outlined above.

Alaska Native Knowledge Network

A bimonthly newsletter, world wide web site (http://www.uaf.alaska.edu/ankn), and a culturally-based curriculum resources clearinghouse have been established to disseminate the information and materials that are being developed and accumulated as the AKRSI initiatives are implemented throughout rural Alaska.

S.P.I.R.A.L. Curriculum Framework

The ANKN curriculum clearinghouse is identifying and cataloging curriculum resources applicable to teaching activities revolving around 12 broad cultural themes organized on a chart that provides a "Spiral Pathway for Integrating Rural Alaska Learning." The themes that make up the S.P.I.R.A.L. framework are family, language/communication, cultural expression, tribe/community, health/wellness, living in place, outdoor survival, subsistence, ANCSA, applied technology, energy/ecology, and exploring horizons. The curriculum resources associated with each of these themes can be accessed through the ANKN web site.

Cultural Documentation/Atlas

Students in rural schools are interviewing Elders in their communities and researching available documents related to the indigenous knowledge systems, and then assembling the information they have gathered into a multimedia format for publication as a "Cultural Atlas" on CD-ROM and the Internet. Documentation has focused on themes such as weather prediction, edible and medicinal plants, geographic place names, flora and fauna, moon and tides, fisheries, subsistence practices, food preservation, outdoor survival and the aurora.

Native Educator Associations

Associations of Native educators have been formed in each cultural region to provide an avenue for sustaining the initiatives that are being implemented in the schools by the AKRSI. The regional associations sponsor curriculum development work, organize Academies of Elders and host regional and statewide conferences as vehicles for disseminating the information that is accumulated.

Native Ways of Knowing

Each cultural region is engaged in an effort to distill core teaching/learning processes from the traditional forms of cultural transmission and to develop pedagogical practices in the schools that incorporate these processes (e.g., learning by doing/experiential learning, guided practice, detailed observation, intuitive analysis, cooperative/group learning, listening skills).

Academies of Elders

Native educators are convening with Native Elders around a local theme and a deliberative process through which the Elders share their traditional knowledge and the Native educators seek ways to apply that knowledge to teaching various components of the standards-based curriculum. The teachers then field test the curriculum ideas they have developed, bring that experience back to the Elders for verification, and then prepare a final set of curriculum units that are pulled together and shared with other educators.

Cultural Standards

A set of "Alaska Standards for Culturally Responsive Schools" have been developed for students, teachers, curriculum, schools and communities that provide explicit guidelines for ways to integrate the local culture and environment into the formal education process so that students are able to achieve cultural well-being as a result of their schooling experience.

Village Science Curriculum Applications

Three volumes of village oriented science curriculum resources are being developed in collaboration with rural teachers for use in schools throughout Alaska. They will serve as a supplement to existing curriculum materials to provide teachers with ideas on how to relate the teaching of basic science and math concepts to the surrounding environment.

AISES Chapters/Native Science Fairs

K-12 chapters of the American Indian Science and Engineering Society are being formed in rural districts serving each cultural region. These chapters are participating in AISES Science Camps and are sponsoring Native Science Fairs in which the projects are judged for their science content by experienced science teachers and for their cultural content by Native Elders. The winners of the regional fairs attend the national AISES Science Fair in the Spring.

Alaska Native Science Education Coalition

The ANSEC is made up of representatives from over 20 agencies, professional organizations and other programs that have an interest and role in science and math education in rural Alaska schools. The Coalition is seeking to bring its vast array of curriculum and professional development resources into focus around the implementation of standards/culturally-based science curriculum, including the incorporation of rural/cultural considerations in the Coalition members own materials and practices (e.g., Alaska Science Consortium workshops, Project Wild curriculum materials, National Park Service interpretive programs).

Math/Science Unit-building Workshops

Under the sponsorship of the ANSEC, small regional teams of science teachers, Native teachers, Elders and scientists (each of whom learn from the others) are assembled for two days of concentrated work aimed at building science and math curriculum units around a locally identified theme that can serve as a focus for meeting state content standards starting from a knowledge base grounded in the local environment (e.g., weather, food preservation, moon/tides, birch trees, berries, measuring systems). The units are then field tested by the participating teachers, refined and made available to teachers throughout the state as models for an on-going process of standards-based and culturally-grounded curriculum development.

Math/Science Performance Standards

Performance standards in the areas of math and science are being developed that will serve as benchmarks for the state assessment system in those content areas. Through AKRSI support, representation from rural/Native communities is helping to incorporate the various cultural and geographic perspectives needed to provide equity in the assessment process.

All tasks associated with implementing the various initiatives are being subcontracted out to the appropriate state or regional entities with responsibility and/or expertise in the respective action area. In this way, the expertise for implementing the various initiatives is cultivated within the respective regions, and the capacity to carry on the activities beyond the life of AKRSI will be imbedded in the schools and communities for which they are intended. The statewide support system (newsletter, web site, curriculum resources, etc.) for the regional initiatives is being coordinated by the AKRSI staff, including three Co-Directors (with duties for administration, Native education and rural education), along with a Regional Coordinator for each cultural region to maximize the synergistic impact of the initiatives within and between regions.

Scaling Up the Change Process

During the first year of implementation of the intervention strategy outlined above, the locus of activity was concentrated in one or two key school districts in each of the five regions, so that sufficient time and effort could be put into identifying appropriate staff and working through the details of each initiative to determine its efficacy and manageability. In the second year, the number of school districts was doubled to include most of the rural districts with 50% or more Alaska Native student populations. One school district in each region from the original target districts has also been identified as the "focal district" for purposes of intensive implementation of the initiatives, and for more detailed tracking of the impact of the systemic reform strategy at the school/district level.

During the remaining years, the primary focus for implementation of the AKRSI initiatives will continue to be on the 20 rural school districts currently serving as partners in the school reform effort, with an emphasis on pushing the initiatives through to a greater depth of implementation. However, the remaining rural schools (serving primarily non-Native students with a higher academic performance record), as well as the urban school districts which also serve a significant number of Alaska Native students, will be included in the dissemination of the materials that are generated and invited to participate in various AKRSI sponsored events. In addition, effort will be devoted during the fifth year to insure that the necessary policies are in place at the district and state levels to institutionalize the changes that have been implemented.

As we shift the initiative emphases from one cultural region to the next, continuity is provided through the efforts and guidance of an AKRSI Regional Coordinator in each region, who insures that the activities from each initiative continue to be emphasized in the original region, and are built upon as they are extended to the new region. Thus, the scale-up process for each initiative is cumulative within each region as well as across regions. The data gathering for assessment purposes at the end of each year takes place across all regions, so that changes can be tracked from year to year across all initiatives.

Summary of Progress to Date

The Alaska Rural Systemic Initiative has just completed its second year of implementation and enters the third year with a full complement of rural school reform initiatives in place stimulating a reconstruction of the role and substance of schooling in rural Alaska. The educational reform strategy we have chosen -- to foster interconnectivity and complementarity between the formal education system and the indigenous communities being served in rural Alaska based on current concepts, principles and theories associated with the study of complex adaptive systems -- has produced an initial increase in student achievement scores, a decrease in the dropout rate, an increase in the number of rural students attending college, and an increase in the number of Native students choosing to pursue studies in fields of science, math and engineering. The initiatives outlined above have demonstrated the viability of introducing strategically placed innovations that can serve as "attractors" around which a new, self-organizing, integrated educational system can emerge which shows signs of producing the quality of learning opportunity that has eluded schools in Native communities for over a century. The substantial realignments that are already evident in the increased interest and involvement of Native people in education in rural communities throughout Alaska point to the applicability of complexity theory in shaping reform in educational systems.

While the NSF funding of the Alaska RSI initiative has been the catalyst for the core reform strategy as it applied to the areas of math and science, we have been fortunate to acquire substantial supplementary funding from the Annenberg Rural Challenge and other sources to implement comparable initiatives in the areas of social studies, fine arts and language arts. All of these funds combined provide an opportunity to address the issues facing schools in Native communities throughout rural Alaska in a truly comprehensive and systemic fashion.

As a means to help document the process of systemic reform in rural schools, we have joined in two projects that will result in comprehensive case studies of educational practices and reform efforts in nine rural communities/schools in Alaska, to be conducted over the next three years. Seven of the case studies are funded through the Northwest Regional Educational Laboratory by a field-initiated grant from the National Institute for At-Risk Youth under USDOE, and the other two are being administered by Harvard University through a grant from the Annenberg Foundation. Since all of the communities are in school districts associated with the Alaska Rural Systemic Initiative, we will be able to obtain a good cross-section of in-depth data on the impact of the AKRSI reform effort over the next few years.

We are mindful of the responsibilities associated with taking on long-standing, intractable problems that have plagued schools in indigenous settings throughout the world for most of this century, and we have made an effort to be cautious about raising community expectations beyond what we can realistically expect to accomplish. We are also mindful of the larger context in which the AKRSI operates and the expectations of the funding agencies with mandates to support initiatives that can contribute to a larger national agenda. Our experience thus far is such that we are confident in the route we have chosen to initiate substantive reform in rural schools serving Alaska's Native communities, and while we expect to encounter plenty of problems and challenges along the way, we are capitalizing on a broadly supportive climate to introduce changes that will benefit not only rural schools serving Native students, but will be instructive for all schools and all students. We welcome the opportunity to continue to explore these ideas and find ways to strengthen and renew the educational systems serving people and communities throughout our society.

References

Capra, F. (1996). The Web of Life: A New Scientific Understanding of Living Systems. New York: Doubleday.

Epstein, J., & Axtell, R. (1996). Growing Artificial Societies. Cambridge: MIT Press.

Gleick, J. (1987). Chaos: Making a New Science. New York: Penguin.

Gomez, M. (1997). Science and Mathematics for All. National Science Foundation.

Jones, R. (1994). Chaos Theory. The Executive Educator (October), 20-23.

Kawagley, O. (1995). A Yupiaq World View: A Pathway to Ecology and Spirit. Prospect Heights, IL: Waveland Press.

Kawagley, A.O. and Barnhardt, R. (1998) Education Indigenous to Place. Ecological Education in Action. Greg Smith and Dilafruz Williams, eds., New York: SUNY Press.

Marshall, S. P. (1996). Chaos, Complexity and Flocking Behavior: Metaphors for Learning. Wingspread Journal 18(3), 13-15. [also in School Administrator, January, 1995]

Napoleon, H. (1991). Yuuyaraq: The Way of the Human Being. Fairbanks, AK: Center for Cross-Cultural Studies, University of Alaska Fairbanks.

Peck, K. L., & Carr, A. A. (1997). Restoring Public Confidence in Schools Through Systems Thinking. International Journal of Educational Reform 6(3), 316-323.

Stamps, D. (1997). The Self-Organizing System. Training (April), 30-36.

Waldrop, M. M. (1994). Complexity: The Emerging Science at the Edge of Chaos. New York: Doubleday.

Wheatley, M. J. (1992). Leadership and the New Science: Learning about Organizations from an Orderly Universe. San Francisco: Berrett-Koehler Publishers.

Wilber, K. (1985). The Holographic Paradigm and Other Paradoxes: Exploring the Leading Edge of Science. Boston: New Science Library.

Spirit, Knowledge, and Vision
From our First Nations' Sages

Angayuqaq Oscar Kawagley

[Kawagley, A. O. (2001). Spirit, knowledge and vision from our First Nations' sages.
Canadian Journal of Native Education, 25 (2), 199-206]

I am from the little village of Mamterilleq, which is now called Bethel, the House of God - and it's anything but the House of God. My Yupiaq name is Angayuqaq, which in one instance could mean "parent" and in another instance can mean "chief." Of course, I prefer the latter.

My perception of myself is somewhat confused. As you can see, I'm Euro-traditionally dressed, and I expect you to abide by the Roberts' Rules of Order. I keep hearing about the protocol that the various tribes have, and I really respect that a lot. But I grew up with Roberts' Rules of Order. It's just now that I'm trying to get out of that mode.

Because I have the podium, I'm going to tell you a story. It seems that Forest Gump passed away and he was on his way to the spiritual world. He was met at the pearly gates by St. Peter, who said to him, "Well, Forest, you're going to have to take an exit exam. You're going to be exiting from the physical world to the spiritual world, and so I'm going to give you some questions to answer. Forest, are you ready?"

"Yeah, I'm ready."

"Okay, first question. How many days of the week have the letter 't'?"

"That's going to make me think."

"Well, how many days in the week have the letter 't'?"

"Two!"

"Well, how did you get two, Forest?"

"Well, there's today and tomorrow.”

"Okay. The second question is a mathematical question. Forest, how many seconds are there in a year?"

"Boy, that's a tough one. I'm going to have to really think about it."

"Well, how many seconds are there in a year, Forest?"

"Twelve!"

"Well, how did you get twelve?"

"Well, there's January second, February second..."

"Third and final question. Forest, what is the first name of God?"

"Oh, that's easy. I really know that one."

"Well, what is the first name of God?"

"Andy."

"Oh, my God, how did you get 'Andy'?"

"And 'e walks with me, and 'e talks with me…"

So you can see that our perceptions can be pretty skewed.

I have written my talk, though it's unusual for me to refer to a paper. I usually write a number of words on a piece of paper, sometimes on the back of my business card, and give a presentation from that. But as you can see, I've been scratching on this paper since last night, making a lot of changes, and taking out some things that might be offensive to certain members.

I'm going to start by telling a couple of stories about the loon. Some of you might be asking why is Angayuqaq going to be talking about the loon? In the Yupiaq language, we call it the tunutelleq and it means "that which is packing something." It has a burden that it is carrying, and indeed the loon is carrying a heavy burden that I hope to talk about in the next few moments. Wherever the loon exists, there are Native people, and of course you will have many loon stories. These stories are usually magical; they are mythical. Among them is the story of a young boy who is blind and is made to see by the loon. The loon carried him on its back and dived. The first time it dived and emerged, the boy could see a little bit, but very unclear; so the loon dived with him again a second time, and when he emerged, he could see a whole lot better. The third time the loon dived and emerged, the boy could see well. As the loon helped the boy to see, so it can help us to understand ourselves and see the connection to Mother Earth today.

I use the loon because you, the Canadians, our Canadian neighbors, give so much honor and respect to the loon that you have put it on the one- and two-dollar coins. And from what I understand, you call them the loonie and the toonie — Loony Tunes. I wanted to talk a little bit about the loon because the cry of the loon is mysterious, it is mournful, and it is remembering place all at the same time. The call of the loon is God-given. It has its own language and is understood by others of its kind and other creatures. Only we, with the ability to think and rationalize, do not understand, because we listen only with the mind, not with the mind and the heart, sprinkled with intuition. To some it is eerie, as if some dark thing is about to happen. Maybe an alungruq, an apparition or ghost of some kind is about to appear. Or perhaps it is signaling your own impending death. The call of the loon conjures up many thoughts that are not based on what is, but on what if?

This is the fear that most of us face as a Native people, especially when thinking about changing education. What if the educators, legislators, and powers that be do not believe and think that this could be done? Even so, we must take those steps necessary to change education and make an educational system that takes into consideration and is in fact based on our own tribal world views. In this context it will include our Native languages, our own ways of generating knowledge, re-search, ways of making things, and ways for using these things respectfully. What is wrong with that? Why should the loon have to change its cry to that of a seagull? All Alaska Native languages come from the land, are derived from the land. It is the language of the land that makes our Native people rooted in harmony with nature. According to the Muskogee Cree, Bear Heart, harmony is a tolerance, a forgiving, a blending. This is what our Native languages always can do.

However, when we change our language to English, we dissociate ourselves from nature. The many English nouns that we learn only give us the idea of an object. Our Native words come from the creatures and things of Mother Earth, naming themselves through the action of words. This is reality. Nature is our teacher! You see, information and rationality are a small part of the knowledge and learning that our modern schooling systems espouse. In the use of our Native languages we come to live life intimately, because we are enmeshed in it rather than looking at it in detachment through a microscope or a telescope.

It then behooves us to reclaim our languages and to learn to live close to nature to regain our identity as a Native people. We have the secrets and the practices for living in harmony with nature. We therefore must encourage our villages to make Native spirituality their community vision. When we have the vision and work toward it, then we will have harmony. We will have tolerance. We will forgive, and we will again blend into our world. We will be using our five senses and intuition to learn about our place.

The loon has never lost its spiritual vision. It has a love for life, its environment and its creator. Its education is from Mother Earth, for the heart, so it can become creative and live in its community, its habitat. The loon still gets messages from its unconscious with new thoughts or solutions to problems, whereas we human beings have covered up our unconscious minds with information and rational thinking. Our world and dreams are no longer sought through meditation, vision questing, fasting, and looking deep into the silence within us for direction. We have been taught to think of the now and its many concerns so that our thoughts have been reduced to "too much think about white man, no more can find dream." This is taken from David Suzuki's The Wisdom of the Elders. Not only have we become socio-politico-economic dependents, but we depend on outside sources to take care of our problems, whether individual, family, or community. Whereas the loon looks into its inner ecology, knowing that no one else can do that for it. It knows that it is incumbent on itself. For us to receive guidance and direction for our lives, we must relearn what the loon does naturally. We must look into ourselves, where power and strength lie, and tap into that source to begin to address our own problems.

Another strength of the loon is that it teaches and nurtures its young to live as loons. It does not need someone else to do the teaching. The loon develops the loon worldview of its young by remaining closely connected to others and its place. As it migrates from place to place, it remembers and appreciates the diversity and beauty of nature. It nurtures its offspring to become independent, yet knowing its dependence on the abundance of nature to meet its needs. It teaches its young to do unto others as you would have them do unto you. This is true love. This is unconditional love that we need in this world: a love for self, a love for others, and a love for place, giving one the sense and responsibility to take care of oneself, to care for others and the environment that one lives in. The loon's cry is a remembering of place that is harmonious, full of beauty and diversity which nature so loves. This is heart talk. This is science, knowing place. We have many, many problems today: environmental, social, political problems, and it is often due to the techno-mechanistic policies of work and development that flow from the technocracies in which we live. This troubled world continues to ignore Indigenous and other people who believe in living in harmony with nature.

I am going to share a story that my Yupiaq tell. In fact I use it when I teach junior high students about science, because I am a teacher of biological sciences. In the distant past a lot of things were possible. The energies were able to come up from the core of the earth, and it was possible for animals to change into human form. Aqatamaani, in distant times when the earth's crust was thin, a crane was flying. He was flying over the tundra looking at the many streams and the rivers and the lakes, and he would see occasional brush. As he was flying over a river, he noticed that there was an oomiak with Yupiat in it, and they were going down the river, so he noted that. Pretty soon, he says, "Well, I'm going to check out the weather," and he goes farther up above the tundra and begins to circle, happily flapping his wings, and he gets higher, and higher, and higher. Ella paqeluku means he's checking out the weather by going up way high in the sky and looking down. So he checks out the weather, and pretty soon he starts to descend. Well, by the time he gets just over the ground, he gets really hungry, but he remembers the Yupiat are out on the river. He flies down a ways and out on the tundra he sees all kinds of berries. So he lands on the riverbank and he sits down on a log and thinks to himself, "Well, who am I going to use to warn me when the Yupiat come down? They will surely try to get me because they love fresh meat." So he's sitting there, and he's thinking, and after a while, he says, "I know what I'll do. I'll use my eyes as sentries." So he plucks out his eyes, puts them on the log, and he gives them instructions. "Now when you see the Yupiat coming down in their oomiak, warn me! I'm going back to the tundra and I'm going to eat some berries."

So he goes back to the berries and is eating away and pretty soon his eyes say, "Crane, crane, the Yupiat are coming down the river!" So he rushes back down and he finds the log and puts his eyes back in and he looks around. Hey, there's just an old spruce log drifting down with branches. "Gosh, darn you eyes! Now you make sure there are Yupiat next time, eh?" So he goes back into the tundra and eats some more. Pretty soon his eyes say, "Hey, crane, crane, there's people coming down the stream!" So he runs down to the log, picks up his eyes and puts them back in. He looks, and there's a piece of the tundra that had sloughed off, floating down with tufts of grass that are kind of bobbing around and maybe resembling people a little bit. Now he gets really angry with his eyes, puts them back down and says, "You make sure there's people next time." So he goes back to the tundra to eat berries. "Crane, crane, there's people coming down the river!" "Oh, shoot! They're probably not people at all," thinks the crane. So he continues eating berries. "Crane, crane, they're getting closer and closer. Hurry! Come and pick us up." But crane just continues to eat berries. Pretty soon he hears, "Crane, crane! The people have us, and they're taking us down the river." So he runs down to the riverbank, finds that log and feels around, but there are no eyes. He plops down on the log, and he thinks, "Now what am I going to do for eyes?" After a while, he goes back to the tundra thinking, "I know—I'll try some berries." So he picks a couple of cranberries, pops them into the eye sockets, and he looks around. Gosh! Pink sky and all the blends of red, and he says, "This cannot be!" So he throws them out. Then he picks a couple of blackberries, plucks them into the eye sockets and looks around. Gosh! A black and grey world. "Hey, this cannot be, either!" So he throws them away and picks up a couple of cloud berries, or salmon berries as we call them, and puts them in. "Hey! Orange, yellow. Boy! This just does not look real!” So he plucks them out and he tries a few other berries, and pretty soon he gathers some blueberries. He puts them into his eye sockets and looks around. He sees blue sky, white clouds, flowers in the tundra. "Now these," he thought, "should be my eyes." And so, according to the Yupiaq, that's how the crane got its blue eyes, and we accept it on faith.

This story is mythical. It's magical. And yet my Yupiaq people, and even I myself, with a major in biological sciences, still believe it. It's gotten so important that we now have a little book for elementary students on how the crane got blue eyes. We do that because there's a need for us to understand the place of the many creatures and plants living in our own world. To them and to me, it makes really beautiful sense. That's how the crane got blue eyes.

If we have that kind of worldview, then we must have developed a language of our own. We must have developed an ecosophy, not a philosophy, but seeking wisdom from nature itself, and eco-psychology where we develop our understandings of what nature is capable of teaching us. We believe that everything has a spirit and therefore has a consciousness, an awareness of the world around us. For example, we don't even question how the eyeballs were able to communicate with the crane. We say, "Well, that's unknowable.” In my Western education I conjecture and say, "Oh, gosh, they were part of the crane in the first place, so maybe they communicated by telepathy—not by words, but by telepathy." But anyway, that's part of it.

To the Yupiaq, listening—not only with the ears, but also with the heart—was essential to become aware of patterns and events that the eyes describe. The sun will rise and descend each day; the earth will continue to revolve around the sun; the spruce seeds will germinate. These recurring phenomena will continue to occur in a given way. We accept these on faith, that life is science. The crane was flying in circles. The Yupiaq knew that the tundra warms under the sun. This becomes visible as one looks out across the tundra and one can see a disturbance—heat waves rising. They know the scientific principle that hot air rises. This is the principle that the crane is using to get high into the air to look around. Is he not a scientist? Nature is science. Science is nature. The Eurocentric scientists tell us that a gene or a combination of genes will produce an eye. After seeing this happen time and again, we accept this on faith. We will never fully understand the creative design behind the genetic mechanism for producing the eye, just as we will never know what creative forces and what entities started the physical laws into motion to bring about the big bang. The scientific laws of nature merely explain the physicist's, astronomer's, astrophysicist's views. The preconditions leading to these phenomena have not been seen and are difficult to see. The Yupiaq accept what is unknowable, uncontrollable, and immeasurable.

The Eurocentric scientists tell us many things such as that there are particles in the atom that are so small that no one will ever be able to see them. They exist only in mathematical statistics. But we as a people accept these on faith. Do the laws of mathematics and physics really exist in nature, or are they merely constructs of the human rational mind to try to make sense of this world? The important aspect to consider is that the modern creative scientist deals only with the physical and the intellectual essences: in other words, the outer ecology. In addition, the modern social scientists make theories based on limited facts, and these theories are made to fit their constructed techno-mechanistic societies. They do not necessarily fit reality. These social, political, and economic theories that describe the techno-mechanistic reality most certainly will not work in tribal societies because they are transrational. Perceptions can be far removed from what is real and, in Yupiaq thought, are considered incomplete and often erroneous knowledge. When Yupiaq create mythology, it deals with the whole: the physical, intellectual, emotional, and spiritual, both of the inner and outer ecologies. Therein lies the ultimate difference between the two ways of making sense of the world.

The Yupiaq story of the loon is a created mythology of our ancestors. Is not the physicist who creates the statistics of unseen particles a creative mythologist? Is not the genetic microbiologist who determines which gene or genes cause Alzheimer's a creative mythologist? Is not the microbiologist who creates the clone of a dog a creative mythologist? This ladder thrusts me into the techno-mechanistic world whereby things discovered are rendered into useful tools and gadgets, such as a Boeing 747 jet, the snow machine, the outboard motor, cloning living things, antibiotics, fluoride toothpaste, skyscrapers, and plastic raincoats. All make intensive use of natural resources and energy. There is no consideration that the natural resources and energy sources of Mother Earth are finite. The ultimate is to gain control over nature and manipulate the techno-mechanistic purposes of humankind. Supposedly, in Eurocentric eyes, technology will produce more food, energy, and natural resources before these are used up. Technology is the answer, but what was the question? asks Amory Lovins. Often the industrial leaders are mainly concerned about financial gains and are thus driven by greed and ambition. Technological products and inventions are improved means to an often foggy or meaningless end. Products such as a talking doll or a cellular phone do not change just a small segment of life: each changes all of life. Psychological and economic changes are impossible to measure, just as good and evil cannot be quantified. Thus, technocracy has no conscience.

Mathematics and the disciplines of science have their own languages and areas of expertise. Each is dissociated from the others, so that there is limited understanding of the interrelationships and interconnectedness of all phenomena of this universe. In fact each area of study has its own contrived language, which promotes further dissociation from other disciplines and nature. In these fields of study are an abundance of well-funded research projects generating rapid information expansion and technological devices. But what can such generous support lead to? Surely not to an abundance of natural resources, natural beauty, and diversity, but rather to natural degradation, poverty, and confusion. Our education system skews our view of reality because of the expectations and assumptions it produces as to what reality should be.

Now I want to speak a little bit about the Yupiaq thought world, and I have a drawing. Maybe some of you are familiar with the tetrahedral metaphor that I drew up several years ago when I was a student at the University of British Columbia. In it I drew a circle representing the universe and the circle of life, depicting togetherness that has no beginning and no end. On the circle are represented the human, natural, and spiritual worlds. There are two-way arrows between them as well as to the worldview at the apex of the tetrahedron. These two-way arrows indicate communications between all these functions to maintain balance. The Yupiat say, "Yuuluteng pitallekegtugluteng," living a life that feels just right. One has to be in constant communication with each of the realms to make sure there is balance. If the feeling is that something is wrong, then one must be able to check to see what might be the cause of unease or disease. If the feeling of being just right comes instinctively and this feeling permeates your whole being, then you have attained balance. This means that one does not question the other functions intellectually, but that one merges spiritually and emotionally with the others. The circle brings all into one mind.

In the Yupiaq thought world, everything in Mother Earth possesses a spirit. This spirit is consciousness and awareness, so the wind, the river, the rabbit, the amoeba, the star, the lily, all possess a spirit. The human consciousness, with its ability to merge into one with all consciousnesses of this world, produces a holotropic mind. The holistic mind is given to the nurturance of health and environmental ethics. Thus, if all possess a spirit or soul, then all possess consciousness and the power that it gives to the physical counterpart. It enables a Native person to have the aid of the spirit. Without the spirit, life becomes unbalanced and disrupts the individual psyche, leading to community disease, loss of communication with the spiritual and natural world, and irreverence toward beings of nature. These give their human "possessors" the power to communicate with them, adopting aspects of their wisdom, their power, and reestablishing links with them for the collective. This connection with animals has been lost through negligence, lack of reverence, or by offending the animal spirit or one of the greater spirits. These spirits are not available through Eurocentric scientific research methods, but only through the ancient art of shamanism or nature thought.

From this you can see that if we rely only on the Eurocentric means of research, it becomes a limiting factor, and yet this is what our institutions of higher learning espouse and teach. All the research available is social and scientific research. The institutions of higher learning teach one way of trying to learn and understand phenomena. Such technological and scientific training imprisons the students' minds to a limited understanding. This is much to the detriment of the learners, who then enter the mainstream Eurocentric world to become its promoters of progress and development. Native people take the lives of animals only to live, giving honor, respect, dignity, and reciprocation to the animals whose lives were taken. They even conceive and put into practice many rituals and ceremonies to communicate to the animal and the spiritual communities. These are corroborated through the Indigenous ecology, which is a manifestation of fundamental organizing principles that exist in the cosmos and affect all our lives. It behooves us to leave something behind, such as a piece of dry fish, when getting food from the mouse’s nest. The mouse food is gathered in the early fall so that the mouse and its family will have the opportunity to collect more food for winter. When caught, the seal is given a drink of water so that the spirit will not be thirsty when he travels to the animal-spiritual kingdom. This is done to show respect to the animal for having shared and given its life to the hunters. Medicinal plants are gathered respectfully, knowing full well their power to heal. It is also to recognize that these were given freely by nature and that it requires that we share these freely. The Native person is aware that if he does not use these gifts of nature regularly, respectfully, mindfully, they will decrease through disuse or misuse. Earth, air, fire, water, and spirit must always be in balance. These elements and creatures are the important ingredients in the ecological system.

With this concept in mind, we must carefully examine the lifestyles and technology that we have spawned in this world. Our lifestyles have become materialistic. They are given to technological devices and gadgets for war and are not geared for sustainability. Our modern cities with their expansive network of structures, transportation and communication systems, goods, services and distribution centers produce conformity and lead to alienation. Similarly, the study and management of natural resources is approached in a fragmentary way, such as an expert in seals who does not know what the expert in herring is doing. This kind of research is geared toward measuring and managing for commercial purposes and not for sustaining Mother Earth. In the Eurocentric world of science and technology there are many alternative approaches that are nature-friendly and sustainable. They await the time when global societies transcend consumerism and materialism and orient themselves toward conservation and regeneration.

As Alaska Native people and other Indigenous societies, we have much to share with the modern world. I believe it is much more difficult to live in tune with nature than it is to conquer earth, air, fire, water, and spirit using modern technologies as tools of destruction. We must realize that mathematics, the sciences and the resulting techno-mechanistic inventions, including computers, can affect and change our ways of thinking, while at the same time providing new tools for us to work with. These modern inventions and new ways of thinking are not easily adapted to living in nature, with nature, and of nature. It behooves us, as Indigenous peoples, to learn both ways of thinking and doing so that we can begin to develop a caring consciousness and soft technologies that are kind to us as humans, kind to the spirits, and kind to the environment.

EXTRA! EXTRA! NEW CONSCIOUSNESS NEEDED

Kawagley, O. (2003). “Nurturing Native Languages.” In J. Reyhner, O. Trujillo, R. Carrasco & L. Lockard (eds.). Nurturing Native Languages (pp.vii-x). Flagstaff, AZ: Northern Arizona University.

Many Americans are intolerant of diversity, be it cultural with its concomitant languages, or biodiversity in an ecological system. Instead, we see notions of human and cultural superiority with designs for a monolingual and monocultural society in which the English language and its associated culture presumes to become the language and culture of the world. Thus indigenous cultures have to contend with a language and its ways that has a very “voracious appetite,” as phrased by Richard Little Bear (1996). We, indeed, have a formidable enemy which absorbs our Native languages and cultures very readily, unless we are cognizant of its hunger and take protective steps. This mass culture can be most appealing to young people. Its behaviorisms, codes of dress, languages, and sometimes destructive proclivities inveigle young people to its world.

In contrast, Susan Griffin’s observations about nature ring true to me because my Yupiaq language is nature-mediated, and thus it is wholesome and healing. She writes,

We know ourselves to be made from this earth. We know this earth is made from our bodies. For we see ourselves. And we are nature. We are nature seeing nature. We are nature with a concept of nature. Nature weeping. Nature speaking of nature to nature. (1978 , p. 226)

Nature contains the creatures, plants, and elements of Nature that have named and defined themselves to my ancestors and are naming and defining themselves to me. My ancestors made my language from Nature. When I speak Yupiaq, I am thrust into the thought world of my ancestors.

From: J. Reyhner, O. Trujillo, R. Carrasco & L. Lockard (eds.). (2003). Nurturing Native Languages (pp.vii-x). Flagstaff, AZ: Northern Arizona University.

Let me cite two examples of the elements of nature naming and defining themselves. The first is anuqa—the wind. It is telling its name and telling me what it is. It is the moving air which is needed for life. The other is lagiq—the Canadian goose. Its call is “lak, lak, lak,” giving its name to us and by its behavior telling us its habitat and its niche in the ecological system. “We are nature with a concept of nature.” Truly!

We, as Native people, have seen our languages become impoverished in the last several centuries. Many of us now speak our Native languages at the fourth and fifth grade levels (if such a grading system existed for us). We look at the wounds in our minds, and we see that the wounds also exist in Nature itself. “We know ourselves to be made from this earth,” and it makes us weep when we see the destruction and pollution around us. We realize that the relationship between ourselves and our places is a “unity of process” (Halifax, 1994, p. 1). We know that there cannot be a separation between the two.

As we lose our Native languages, more and more of us begin to take part in the misuse and abuse of Nature. We use English predominately in our everyday lives today. We don’t realize that English is a language contrived by the clever rational mind of the human being. The letters were derived by the human mind. The words are a product of a mindset that is given to individualism and materialism in a techno-mechanistic world. For us to think that we can reconstruct a new world by using English and its ways will not work. We need to return to a language that is given to health and healing. To try to make a paradigmatic shift by using the consciousness that constructed this modern world is bound for failure. Albert Einstein stated something to the effect that “you cannot make change in a system using the same consciousness used to construct it.” This should be very clear to us as a Native people.

In my Yupiaq ancestral world egalitarianism was practiced. In this form of governance, no creature, no plant, or no element becomes more important than another. All are equal. In my great State of Alaska, I can incontrovertibly state that racism is alive and well, and seems to be gaining strength. This is a circumstance which is unconscionable and reflects a very destructive and alienated stance in the larger society.

How is it that we “stabilize indigenous languages”? I think that we must once again speak the Native languages in the home a majority of the time. If we expect only the school to do it, it will surely fail. The school must become a reflection of a Native speaking family, home, and community. During the waking hours of the day, the children must hear the Native language being spoken—in the home and in school. The one-to-one and family conversation in the local language must be the standard of the day. The community, family, parents, and especially the children must begin to know place. How is this to be done? By the elders, parents, and community members speaking to one another in their own language and from the Yupiaq perspective.

To know self, one must learn of place. How does one learn of place? You begin by telling quliraat, the mythology, stories of distant time, which are powerful teaching tools still applicable to the present. You learn of the times when our ancestors were truly shape-shifters. It was easy to change from one form to another, and one was in control of self. Values and traditions are taught by these stories which are so ancient that we call them myths. From these you can tease out problem-solving tools and discern characteristics that make for a healthy and stable person living in a healthy and sustainable place. Told by an elder whose inflections, facial, and body language add to the words, these myths teach not only discipline for the members but more importantly self-discipline. We must re-inculcate self-discipline in our people as a matter of survival.

The qalumcit must be told, as they are the stories of us as a Native peoples. They tell us how we got to be at this place, our movements, problems encountered and resolved, years of plenty and scarcity, how to read the signs foretelling events, how we made sense of time and space, how trade and exchange of goods and services were accomplished, and how genetic diversity in the community was maintained.

The rituals and ceremonies must be relearned and practiced. The loss of these have developed schisms in our lives. We have become fractured people. These rituals represent revival, regeneration, and revitalization of our Native people.

The yuyaryarat—the art and skills of singing, dancing, and drumming—brings one to a spiritual level. Our word “yuyaq” means to emerge into a higher plain, a higher consciousness through concentration on the movements when singing and drumming.

We must also seek to relearn the Native names of places. It is incomplete knowledge for us to know the distance between two places in miles. It is also important to be able to guesstimate the time it will take to go from point A to point B and to know the history and place names between the two points. Then it becomes whole and useful knowledge.

At the 1999 World Indigenous Peoples Conference-Education (WIPCE) in Hilo, Hawai’i I was a participant in a planning meeting for revitalizing the Hawaiian language and culture. One interesting side trip was a visit to a Native Hawaiian charter school a few minutes from Hilo. I learned that the local Native people had begun landscaping unkempt property and refurbishing dilapidated buildings. This was initiated even before grant funds were made available for the project. This is true determination and motivation to reconstruct education which is meaningful and effective for Native people. When my hosts and I arrived, we were met by the students at the entrance to their school. They sang in their own language, and several students made welcoming remarks again in their own language. When protocol called for my response, I responded in my Yupiaq language. To see and hear the protocol that had been practiced for millenia by their people made my heart feel good. This happening after hundreds of years of barrage to change their language and culture gave me hope that we too can save our Alaska Native languages.

It was refreshing and energizing of spirit to look at the landscape and see the work that had been done. The best part was a plot of land where only the original fauna of Hawaii had been planted—a very ambitious endeavor which required research and feedback from the few elders still with them to determine which plants are native to the land. One building had photovoltaic panels on its roof to power some of their computers and filter pumps for their fish hatchery tanks. At another location, young men were preparing food in the traditional manner of heating rocks with the ingredients placed in baskets on top and covered over with banana leaves and canvas. The food was eaten prior to the graduation exercises.

If you find yourself in a situation where there is a minimal number of myths, stories, rituals, and ceremonies available, then I would suggest that you find sources that are well written and your elders deem to be true. Translate these into your own language with the help of elders and knowledgeable community members that may be familiar with the technical language contained in that treatise. When satisfied with the final translation, read it to the group for approval. Then it would behoove us to read it to the youngster who will become the historian of the community—the future keeper and practitioner of sacred knowledge.

To bring the above back into practice is to know who you are and where you are. This would contribute broadly to the important notion that it is alright to be Native, to speak the Native language, and to use Native tools and implements in play and work. After all, our technology was made by our ancestors to edify our Native worldviews. Please, what ever you do, do NOT give to the youngsters the idea that modern technology has an answer for everything. It does not. Use it merely as a tool, and use it minimally and judiciously. Remind the students, that technological tools are intensive in the use of natural resources and energy. To accept technology blindly is to negate the painful works to revitalize our Native languages and cultures. I wish you all the wisdom of the Ellam Yua, the Great Mystery in your continuing efforts. “We are Nature.” Quyana

References

Griffin, Susan. (1978). Woman and nature: The roaring inside her. New York: HarperCollins.

Halifax, Joan. (1994). The fruitful darkness: Reconnecting with the body of the earth. New York: Harper.

Little Bear, Richard. (1996). Preface. In G. Cantoni (ed.), Stabilizing Indigenous languages. Flagstaff, AZ: Northern Arizona University.

The Yupiaq World View

Kawagley, A.O. (1995). A Yupiaq Worldview:  A pathway to Ecology and Spirit,
Waveland Press, Inc., Prospect Heights, Illinois.

The issues addressed in this research must be understood in the context of a Yupiaq world view, because basic philosophical questions are raised in the course of observing and questioning local people with respect to science as inquiry, science as explanation, science versus technology, science and religion, especially with respect to the Yupiaq lifeways. Accordingly, the world view outlined here will attempt to answer the following questions which were deftly written by Barry Lopez (1986:202). They are in reference to "metaphysics, epistemology, ethics, aesthetics and logic - which pose, in order, the following questions. What is real? What can we understand? How should we behave? What is beautiful? What are the patterns we can rely upon?" Added to the above list will be "ontology" - Why are we? Is there something greater than the human? Lopez goes on to point out, "The risk we take is of finding our final authority in the metaphors rather than in the land. To inquire into the intricacies of a distant landscape, then, provoke thoughts about one's own interior landscape, and the familiar landscapes of memory. The land urges us to come around to an understanding of ourselves" (1986:247).

I shall begin the description of the Yupiaq world view by reviewing a word that epitomizes the philosophy of the Yupiat. The Yupiaq word is "ella." This base word can be modified to change its meaning by adding a suffix or suffixes. Examples are: Qaill' ella auqa? - How's the weather?; Qaill' ellan auqa? - How are you feeling?; Ellam nunii - The world's land; Ellagpiim yua - Spirit of the Universe; Ellapak - Universe; Ella amigligtuq - The sky is cloudy. One can quickly conclude that it can be made to mean weather, awareness, world, Creative Force or God, universe and sky. This also illustrates that the Yupiat developed a body of values and traditions that would enable them to maintain and sustain this ecological world view. The key word is "awareness" or consciousness. "Every source of knowledge is dependent on consciousness - be it perception, or inference, or scripture" (Ravindra, 1991:67) For "scripture" I would insert Yupiaq mythology. Ravindra goes on to say that "The mind or intellect cannot give us knowledge of anything without the functioning of the Self. ... the Self is consciousness, and in the absence of consciousness, no knowledge is possible" (1991:67). This is the highest attainment of the human being, and we must keep in mind that this is not attributable to any one race. It also points out that the human being must possess this to be able to make sense out of these values and traditions as juxtaposed with the "objects" of the universe.

To help illustrate the interrelationship between human nature, nature and supernature (or spirituality) in the Yupiaq world view, I will utilize a tetrahedral metaphor (see diagram below). The structure of the tetrahedron allows for several important dynamic forces to be examined in relation to one another. If we use the three corners of the base to represent the human being, nature and spirituality respectively, we can see the apex as representing the world view that over-arches and unites the base components of our existence. The lines connecting these “poles” can be seen as the life forces which flow all ways between and among the human, spiritual and natural worlds and the human being’s world view. The two poles representing the spiritual and natural realms are essential supports to the Yupiaq world view.

This tetrahedral model allows for triangulation whereby human beings can locate themselves in relation to the other domains of their existence and check to make sure that the values and traditions are in balance. It shows that the Yupiaq world view is established on an alliance and alignment of all elements, and that there must be constant communications between the three realms to maintain this delicate balance. When everything is in alignment, it is an exceptionally strong structure. It does not require a very earth shaking change, however, to upset the balance. Chief Sealth?(date) has stated that "This we know: the earth does not belong to man, man belongs to earth. All things are connected like the blood that unites us all. Man did not weave the web of life, he is merely a strand in it. Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself" (italics are mine).

The tetrahedral universe requires constant communication between the three base realms. This reciprocity of conversations and interrogations is an essential element to the world view. It allows for constant monitoring to make sure the balance is there. The most important fact shown by this construct is that the human being is a key figure. The human being is a participant-observer in this universe. We, the human beings, having consciousness and reasoning ability, are the ones who pose questions and methodologies for doing research. We, therefore, are the keys to understanding life and living things and trying to solve the conundrums of Nature and our inner worlds. The structure works with the least amount of thought and manipulation, requires the least amount of effort and resources, and its purpose becomes evident with observaton and thought. A priori, natural laws are placed in the universe to guide the human beings' thoughts and actions.

The Creative Force, as manifested in Nature, is more profound and powerful than anything the human being can do, because in it is the very essence of things. Yet, within this profoundness and powerfulness is efficiency, economy and purpose, the expression of which is dependent on the human being. Within the Yupiaq world view is the notion that "a spiritual landscape exists within the physical landscape," in the words of Elaine Jahner, Lakota (Lopez, 1986:273). In addition, "Careful observaton was made of animal behavior and the inner qualitites and the genius of a particular animal species with a view of deriving spiritual and moral lessons from that animal species. There is a metaphysical basis for the belief that animals have much to teach man concerning the divine wisdom and about his own inner nature (Bakar, 1991:95)." The human being is an essential piece of the structural puzzle.

What are the conditions in which this world view works with efficiency, economy and purpose? The traditional Yupiaq people as young children were given specially ground lenses through which to view their world. The resulting cultural map was contained in their language, myths, legends and stories, science and technology, and role models of community members. This verbal orientation and learning by observation worked to their advantage. To hear stories being told in the qasegig (community house) allowed the children and other hearers to savor the words, visualize the events, and for the duration of the story, they became a part of the imagery. The modern written word is useful for many things, but it removes the reader from the human interaction element. In the qasegig, the hearer becomes a part of the story, a participant-observer in the events. This is truly living history. All participants in the storytelling are expected to behave, not only by the elders, but by all community members. So, the child is not only listening quietly but is learning self-discipline and respect for the rights of others. The children learn and the grown-ups are reminded of who and what they are, where they came from, how they are to interact with others, with natural things and with spirits.

Our creation myths say that Raven is the Creator. Some say that the Creative Force took the form of the Raven to make the world so that the Yupiat will never think that they are above the creatures of the earth. How can they be when their Creator is a creature of Earth? Modern biology has come to a similar conclusion that "There exists no objective basis on which to elevate one species over another" (Trivers, date?).

The type of governance structure created for this ecological mindset is of utmost importance. Yupiaq thought holds that all creatures, including humans, are born equal. This does not imply that all functions or jobs of the creatures are equal, but holds that each does its job equally well. All human beings are equal as they have been endowed with consciousness, thus having the ability to culturally, intellectually and morally develop, each in their own way. Each individual human being in this type of government is afforded the greatest freedom in pursuing life, liberty and the quest for happiness. "Being autonomous is being the origin of one's own actions" (Milbrath, 1989:78). Endosomatic sense makers of humanity are "both your freedom of expression and walls of your prison" (Roads, 1987:43). So it is with the Yupiaq person in seeking knowledge. This quest for knowledge which will open the road to making a living is rigorously sought through the use of the five physical senses well sprinkled with intuition. From the juggling of values and traditions in the life of the Yupiaq will come the wisdom to make a life. The Yupiaq person's methodologies include observation (like modern science), experience, social interaction, and listening to the conversations and interrogations of the natural and spiritual worlds with the mind. The person is always a participant-observer. Roads (1987:132) captures the Yupiaq way succinctly: "To inquire suggests that we seek always to explore rather than exploit - to seek, rather than find - to live life as an open-ended agreement with God, rather than search for a nonexistent conclusion." He goes on to write that "Separation and connection, fragmentation and wholeness - all are strands in a single universal thread. While all threads are woven into the human experience as one energy, it is we moderns (my italics) who separate the strands" (148).

There are a number of values that are important to this world view. Milbrath has written that some idea or some practice becomes a value when a feeling has been attached to it (1989:??). An example of this might be the Yupiaq value of sharing. No one knows when it became a value, but it is likely that it took a very long time to come to mean what it does today. Over the years, Yupiaq people may have found that owning many things was hazardous to their well-being and their nomadic way of life. The pros and cons of owning versus sharing was probably considered, discussed, and practices from other societies observed. On the other hand, maybe because of their spirituality they didn't have to go through this process. However it happened, eventually through observation and experimentation, very much as a modern scientist might do, they found that sharing was the best policy for them. Not only were they to share with one another but also with the rest of their world. This was done to recognize and acknowledge the interconnectedness of the universe. The value of sharing was realized when they found that to have little or nothing is to treasure everything, and it fit very nicely into their ecological mindset. They found that to restrict wants was to always have enough, and they created ways to enjoy to the utmost that which they had.

Cooperation is another valued condition. The Yupiaq world view and nature are premised on cooperation, therefore it fits into the circadian rhythm of the universe. They may have experienced or envisioned circumstances in which irresponsible individualism lead to ambition and avarice. The negative effects of ambition for power and avarice for owning things became apparent to them in some way. In the tetrahedral model of a world view, cooperation seems to be an a priori condition of the universe.

In order for the Yupiaq world view to work, it required a respect for the wisdom of the elders. There were always a few elders in each community who reached a very old age. Some were so old that when they sat on the floor of the qasegig with their knees bent and elevated, their heads would extend below the knee level. There were others whose teeth had been worn to the gum level. Those who had lost their teeth required food to be chewed by family members for consumption. These people were well cared for, honored and respected for their knowledge and wisdom. This was extended to the aged who completed the life circle by entering the "second childhood." The attainment of knowledge was based on their reasoning ability and experience.

The social structure of the Yupiat was maintained primarily at the extended family level. Perhaps, by observing and recounting stories, they came to the conclusion that chaos would result when a certain population balance was exceeded. This inherently controlled population level allowed the Yupiaq people to live a satisfactory life as they were in balance with the carrying capacity of the land and waters, and, above all, balanced in number to live an orderly life. Modern communities with their technological infrastructure seem to have attempted to ignore the confusion and social chaos that can occur when too many people congregate in a city or village. The profusion of laws and regulations needed to regulate the conduct of people merely obfuscates who, what and how they are to act.

For matters of survival, the Yupiat found that it was necessary to learn much about their immediate landscape. Of course, a few of their people had made exploratory forays into other parts of the world, and sometimes the "explorer" did not have a choice because it might have been a situation where a storm took the person off course or he got caught by ice and had to go whereever it went. The Yupiat have many stories of this type. It seemed best to know intimately the land on which they dwelled. "One is better off with a precise and local knowledge, and a wariness of borders" (Lopez, 1986:259). Lopez goes on to say that the land makes the myths real and, subsequently, the people real also (1986:296).

One other value that I will mention briefly is the value of the extended family, not only for survival but to be very aware and appreciative of the blood line. It was so important that special terms and an elaborate system of relationships was devised. This established the identity of the person - who they were, where they were from, and what they represented. A person had to have a dynamic sense of self-esteem, self-confidence and pride without arrogance to live in a very harsh environment.

As the tetrahedron suggests, the Yupiaq infrastructure had to include a dynamic sense of sacredness, and as Richard Nelson has written, wherever the Native person is, that place becomes a cathedral to that person (date?). This deep sense of sacredness caused the Yupiaq to develop a nature-mediated technology in which the hunting implements and tools were made of natural materials so as not to offend the hunted animal. To ensure that balance was always maintained or regained, the Yupiaq created rituals and ceremonies with songs, dances and all the needed accouterments. The paraphernalia included masks which were often an attempt at reification of a vision, dream or unusual experience. They always includes a story and attendant value(s). Very often the mask was an experience that a shaman had and upon return would render it into a mask using wood, stone, bone, feathers, and natural paints. If the shaman was not given to carving then he/she would have a carver carve the mask under his/her careful guidance.

Technological Adaptations In The Village Of Akiak

Were my great-great-grandmother alive today, she would be astounded by the changes that have been wrought to her homeland by science and technology. She would be inquisitive about the research I am attempting to do with the concomitant Western knowledge and methodologies that I have garnered over the years. She would quietly query me about this new knowledge and its applications in the Yupiaq world. She probably would not come out directly with the observation that much of what I know is useless knowledge, but likely would remain skeptical and hold that my vaunted scientific knowledge is second-rate knowledge not useful for solving village problems.

Be that as it may, science and technology have had an impact in the villages. “Impact” infers passive acceptance of new things, which often has been the case with the Yupiaq. There were a few who resisted education and acceptance of modern tools and implements, but the majority did not. My Grandmother's parents would not allow her to go to school, saying that she would get dumb. By "dumb" I think they meant that she would lose her values and traditions and begin to live another way of life. Much of the traditional knowledge and experiences of the Yupiaq were adapted to the environment and learned through the tasks of daily life in that environment. These were known to work down through the millenia, along with slight changes that resulted from climactic permutations with resultant changes in flora and fauna. Complete and sudden change would mean destruction of the Yupiaq world view. However, after some initial resistance during early contact, and especially after the loss of leaders and shamans during the Great Death at the turn of the century, the Yupiaq became more receptive to innovation. Science and technology continue to be the conveyors of change in the Yupiaq region.

Since the time that Arlicaq moved from the east side of the Kuskokwim river to the present site of Akiak and built his sodhouse, there has been tremendous change. No longer are the villagers living in semi-subterranean sodhouses of Yupiaq design. These traditional houses were heat efficient, with cold air traps at the entrance and openings above the door to allow for natural air conditioning. The materials were of nature - driftwood or local trees, sod, grass, and wooden planks. These houses belonged to Nature.

There are several old lumber houses still standing and in use that probably date back to the time that Akiak had a sawmill, but the majority of homes today are framehouses built by funds from the Federal Housing and Urban Development (HUD) or Alaska State Housing Authority. All building materials are imported from the "South 48." The new homes are built upon pilings and suspended above the ground because of flooding and permafrost problems. Older homes have a kitchen stove which serves as a cooking source as well as heat for the building. The newer ones have an elaborate furnace and heat delivery system. This is an enclosed system in which a heated glycol mixture is pumped through piping to various parts of the building. The furnace is an oil fired system controlled by a thermostat. All new houses have a divided interior configuration with bedrooms and a combination living/dining section and storage space. There are often complaints by villagers of the houses falling apart in a matter of two to four years. The maintenance costs of these homes, including heating and electricity is exhorbitant. The occupants pay whatever they can afford to the Association of Village Council Presidents, Inc. (AVCP) Housing, a tribal regional organization whose responsibility is to construct, maintain, and oversee payments.

Many of the newest homes built during the oil money glut have an individual septic tank and well. These homes have running water and flush toilets. Older homes have "honey buckets" for human waste which are usually emptied into the backyard. Garbage disposal poses another problem imported from the outside world, with its penchant for non-biodegradable packaging. Sewage and garbage are endemic problems in the villages. Most village sites are barely above sea level, which causes additional storage problems and health hazards.

Many homes have modern appliances including refrigerators, toasters, microwave ovens, electric or oil fired stoves, freezers of varying sizes, and many other things that are now considered essential by the family. The television set and VCR are often among the most prominent items in the home. They become the center of the home. Sometimes the TV is left on all day whether anyone is watching or not. This outside element alone causes the cultural lens to become astigmatic in young developing minds in which a very channelized version of cultural values and traditions are seen, most often blurred or distorted. This causes confusion among the young, and eventual disillusionment and disenfranchisement with the Yupiaq way of life. The young live in pseudorealities based on TV series and movies showing abstractions of the life and ways of the "young and restless" of the South 48.

Most homes are very well furnished with a modern flare. Clothing is predominately Western, with only the very traditional sometimes wearing at least a pair of Yup'ik boots, commonly called "mukluks." Food consumption, to a large extent depends on the income of the household, with store bought food interspersed or mixed with Native foods. On the average, it has been estimated by Nunam Kliutsiti (“monitors of the land"), consumption of food consists of about 50% Native foods and the other half outside foods. This indicates that the Yupiaq people have been involved in a cash economy for quite some time.

Most homes have telephones and/or citizens band radio. The latter is left on most of the time. Individual messages are relayed or collective village messages delivered through it. It is used to announce the arrival of a dignitary or meeting that will take place. The radios are often carried in boats, snow machines, and vehicles for emergency purposes or just to stay in touch. Many homes have Nintendo games which people of every age enjoy playing.

The post office employs one person and is a very important source of shipping and receiving packages. As with other communities, there is a blight of unwanted and unsolicited mail.

Upon change from the federal Bureau of Indian Affairs (BIA) school to the state funded Lower Kuskokwim School District, the old BIA school had to be brought up to state codes. The old school was a very substantially built school, and after refurbishing is a most functional building. In addition, a new school was built to accommodate local high school students. It is a replica of most village high schools that were built as the result of a lawsuit against the state in the mid-seventies. This case required the state to build high schools in villages where there were at least eight students of elementary age and one or more high school age students. So, in the '70s and '80s the state went on a building frenzy with the dollars available from oil revenues. The design was similar for each with the exception of a half, 3/4, or full size gymnasium, depending on the size of the school. Much of the school budget now goes toward maintenance, electricity and fuel. The equipment is so complicated that experts have to be flown in sometimes from the district central office or from Anchorage to make repairs. The biggest share of the budget goes for teacher and administrative salaries. Of the nine teachers, two are Alaska Native and the principal is part Indian. There are a number of local Native people employed as teacher aides, cook and cook's helper, maintenance, secretary, and bilingual aides. The school is the biggest employer of the village.

About seven families own dog teams which are not necessarily used for hunting and trapping. Some may use them for this purpose which combines training with service to put meat on the table, but the predominate use is for dog sled racing. Most means of transportation are now aluminum boats with outboard motors, snow machines, three- and four-wheelers, along with some four-wheel drive cars and pick-ups. The cost of outboard motors vary from $1000 to $6500, and the aluminum boats range from $900 to $11,000, depending on size. All terrain vehicles and snow machines range from $1500 to $7000. Adding to the accumulated pollution are cannabalized remains of all types of modern machinery. Many boats with motors still attached are left on the river shore during the winter. This is quite a change from the time that I grew up. In those days, it was felt that one should take good care of the boat and motor. This meant making sure the boat was placed on the river bank, overturned and the motor stored in the smoke house or under the boat. This recent "throw-away" mentality may have been derived from the expendable mentality of the South 48. It is merely a white man's technological appendage and easily replaceable.

There are two locally owned stores, a village Native corporation office, and a community center which houses the tribal and municipal employees, as well as the all important laundry. The village corporation has the oil and gas service, a small store that sells oil products, and a recreational and sport fishing operation on the Kiseralik River. State, federal and private funds are used to operate these ventures. One can see from this that employment is very limited in the village. A number of small air taxi services take passengers, mail and freight from Akiak to Bethel or vice versa.

There are perhaps eight miles of road in Akiak. It is a very expensive undertaking to make a road in the river delta. The gravel must be barged in from up-river gravel bars. First the tundra and brush are removed by a tractor, then a base of gravel poured and compacted. Then it is a matter of pouring more gravel on top of each compacted layer to build it up a foot or two above ground level. The airport is one of the most important facilities and is maintained with equipment and funds from the State Department of Transportation. Enough funds are allocated to provide for a small tractor, a garage for it, maintenance, and an operator. It is his responsibility to keep the airport serviceable by smoothing it of potholes in the summer and keeping it plowed of snow in the winter. Responding to winds and blizzards during the winter occupy a lot of his time.

The city has a non-running fire truck, and non-functional earth moving truck. Heavy equipment must be barged in to do construction work, such as building the electric generator house, during which heavy timbers had to moved and placed, and once the building's foundation was completed, the generator had to be lifted into place. All this required heavy machinery. Anything major, such as this project, requires that needed equipment be transported to the site along with heavy equipment operators. The manual labor is provided by the locals.

The people use nylon nets for catching fish. They use steel traps and metal snares for trapping in the winter. Rifles of all calibers and shotguns of all gauges are used for hunting. Fencing materials of all sizes and designs are used for making fish traps. The only traditional Yupiaq tool still extensively used by women is the "uluaq," a cutting instrument. The size of the uluaq determines whether it is used for cutting large animals or fish, or for delicate work.

The fish camps of the early times to the '80s consisted of a tent(s) for housing, a smokehouse, fish racks and racks for drying out nets. Now, there often is a shell of a house using a framework of 2" x 4"s covered with plywood. This provides the home for the duration of the fishing season. An addition may be a small smokehouse used specifically for salmon strips, and very often a plywood steam bath house. The women no longer cut fish on the ground covered with grass or bark, but instead they use tables with a carpet piece to keep the fish from slipping around. All-weather and shag carpet pieces are used. Very often the women have to cut fish in inclement weather, so raingear of all kinds are used. Large garbage bags are sometimes used in lieu of aprons or as rain gear. A hole is cut in the middle of the bottom of the bag and two holes cut in the side. It is said that they are very serviceable and do not collect moisture on the inside.

A few families carefully fold king salmon slabs and wrap them in plasticized freezer paper - this after the king salmon have been dried and smoked. They are then placed in the freezer, where they keep very fresh. Smoked king salmon strips are often vacuumed packed using a vacuum machine with special plastic bags made for that purpose. These are kept in the freezer also. In the '40s and '50s, it was the practice to place salmon slabs in wooden barrels to keep them from molding. At this time too, it was always a practice to salt fish. This is not done quite as often now, for it is easier to freeze the fish. Use of plastic, alumininum,and freezer wrapping materials abound. All one needs to do is walk out the door and invariably one will see wrapping of some sort immediately.

Indigenous Knowledge Systems/Alaska Native Ways of Knowing

By Ray Barnhardt and Angayuqaq Oscar Kawagley

Barnhardt, R., & Kawagley, A. O. (2005). Indigenous Knowledge Systems and Alaska Native Ways of Knowing. Anthropology and Education Quarterly, 36(1), pp. 8-23.

ABSTRACT

This article seeks to extend our understanding of the processes of learning that occur within and at the intersection of diverse world views and knowledge systems, drawing on experiences derived from across Fourth World contexts, with an emphasis on the Alaska context in particular. The article outlines the rationale behind a comprehensive program of educational initiatives that are closely articulated with the emergence of a new generation of indigenous scholars who are seeking to move the role of indigenous knowledge and learning from the margins to the center of the educational research arena and thus take on some of the most intractable and salient issues of our times.

A few years ago, a group of Alaska Native elders and educators was assembled to identify ways to more effectively utilize the traditional knowledge systems and ways of knowing that are embedded in the Native communities to enrich the school curriculum and enliven the learning experiences of the students. After listening for two days to lengthy discussions of topics such as indigenous world views, Native ways of knowing, cultural and intellectual property rights and traditional ecological knowledge, an Inupiaq elder stood up and explained through an interpreter that he was going to describe how he and his brother were taught to hunt caribou by their father, before guns were commonplace in the upper Kobuk River area of northern Alaska.

The elder described how his father had been a highly respected hunter who always brought food home when he went out on hunting trips and shared it with others in the village. One day when he and his brother were coming of age, their father told them to prepare to go with him to check out a herd of caribou that was migrating through a valley a few miles away. They eagerly assembled their clothing and equipment and joined their father for their first caribou hunt. When they reached a ridge overlooking the nearby valley, they could see a large herd grazing and moving slowly across a grassy plain below. Their father told his sons to lay quietly up on the ridge and watch as he went down with his bow and arrows to intercept the caribou.

The boys watched as their father proceeded to walk directly toward the caribou herd, which as he approached began to move away from him in a file behind the lead bulls, yet he just kept walking openly toward them. This had the two brothers scratching their heads wondering why their father was chasing the caribou away from him. Once the father reached the area where the caribou had been grazing, he stopped and put his bow and arrows down on the ground. As the (now) elder told the story, he demonstrated how his father then got into a crouching position and slowly began to move his arms up and down, slapping them against his legs as though he were mimicking a giant bird about to take off. The two brothers watched intently as the lead bulls in the caribou heard stopped and looked back curiously at their father’s movements. Slowly at first, the caribou began to circle back in a wide arc watching the figure flapping its wings out on the tundra, and then they began running, encircling their father in a closing spiral until eventually they were close enough that he reached down, picked up his bow and arrows and methodically culled out the choice caribou one at a time until he had what he needed. He then motioned for his sons to come down and help prepare the meat to be taken back to the village.

As the elder completed the story of how he and his brother were taught the accrued knowledge associated with hunting caribou, he explained that in those days the relationship between the hunter and the hunted was much more intimate than it is now. With the intervention of modern forms of technology, the knowledge associated with that symbiotic relationship is slowly being eroded. But for the elder, the lessons he and his brother had learned from their father out on the tundra that day where just as vivid when he shared them with us as they had been the day he learned them, and he would have little difficulty passing a graduation qualifying exam on the subject 70 years later. The knowledge, skills and standards of attainment required to be a successful hunter were self-evident, and what a young hunter needed to know and be able to do was both implicit and explicit in the lesson the father provided. The insights conveyed to us by the Inupiaq elder drawing on his childhood experience also have relevance to educators today as we seek ways to make education meaningful in the 21st century. It is to explicating such relevance that the remainder of this article will be directed through a close examination of common features that indigenous knowledge systems share around the world, followed by a closer look at some of the initiatives that are contributing to the resurgence of Alaska Native knowledge systems and ways of knowing as a catalyst for educational renewal.

Indigenous peoples throughout the world have sustained their unique worldviews and associated knowledge systems for millennia, even while undergoing major social upheavals as a result of transformative forces beyond their control. Many of the core values, beliefs and practices associated with those worldviews have survived and are beginning to be recognized as having an adaptive integrity that is as valid for today’s generations as it was for generations past. The depth of indigenous knowledge rooted in the long inhabitation of a particular place offers lessons that can benefit everyone, from educator to scientist, as we search for a more satisfying and sustainable way to live on this planet.

Actions currently being taken by indigenous people in communities throughout the world clearly demonstrate that a significant “paradigm shift” is under way in which indigenous knowledge and ways of knowing are beginning to be recognized as consisting of complex knowledge systems with an adaptive integrity of their own (cf. Winter, 2004 special issue of Cultural Survival Quarterly on indigenous education). As this shift evolves, it is not only indigenous people who are the beneficiaries, since the issues that are being addressed are of equal significance in non-indigenous contexts (Nader 1996). Many of the problems that are manifested under conditions of marginalization have gravitated from the periphery to the center of industrial societies, so the new (but old) insights that are emerging from indigenous societies may be of equal benefit to the broader educational community.

The tendency in the earlier literature on indigenous education, most of which was written from a non-indigenous perspective, was to focus on how to get Native people to acquire the appurtenances of the Western/scientific view of the world (Darnell 1972; Orvik and Barnhardt 1974). Until recently there was very little literature that addressed how to get Western scientists and educators to understand Native worldviews and ways of knowing as constituting knowledge systems in their own right, and even less on what it means for participants when such divergent systems coexist in the same person, organization or community. It is imperative, therefore, that we come at these issues on a two-way street, rather than view them as a one-way challenge to get Native people to buy into the western system. Native people may need to understand western society, but not at the expense of what they already know and the way they have come to know it. Non-Native people, too, need to recognize the co-existence of multiple worldviews and knowledge systems, and find ways to understand and relate to the world in its multiple dimensions and varied perspectives.

The intent of this article is to extend our understanding of the processes of learning that occur within and at the intersection of diverse world views and knowledge systems through a comparative analysis of experiences derived from across multiple Fourth World contexts, drawing in particular on our work with the Alaska Rural Systemic Initiative over the past ten years. The article will outline the rationale behind a comprehensive program of educational initiatives that are closely articulated with the emergence of a new generation of indigenous scholars who are seeking to move the role of indigenous knowledge and learning from the margins to the center of the educational research arena and thus take on some of the most intractable and salient issues of our times.

Indigenous Knowledge Systems

In 2003 the U.S. Commission on Civil Rights issued a comprehensive report titled, A Quiet Crisis: Federal Funding and Unmet Needs in Indian Country, in which the following conclusion was drawn with regard to education of Native American students:

As a group, Native American students are not afforded educational opportunities equal to other American students. They routinely face deteriorating school facilities, underpaid teachers, weak curricula, discriminatory treatment, and outdated learning tools. In addition, the cultural histories and practices of Native students are rarely incorporated in the learning environment. As a result, achievement gaps persist with Native American students scoring lower than any other racial/ethnic group in basic levels of reading, math, and history. Native American students are also less likely to graduate from high school and more likely to drop out in earlier grades (2003:xi).

Students in indigenous societies around the world have, for the most part, demonstrated a distinct lack of enthusiasm for the experience of schooling in its conventional form-an aversion that is most often attributable to an alien institutional culture, rather than any lack of innate intelligence, ingenuity, or problem-solving skills on the part of the students (Battiste 2002). The curricula, teaching methodologies and assessment strategies associated with mainstream schooling are based on a worldview that does not adequately recognize or appreciate indigenous notions of an interdependent universe and the importance of place in their societies (Kawagley, Norris-Tull and Norris-Tull 1998)

Indigenous people have had their own ways of looking at and relating to the world, the universe, and to each other (Ascher 2002; Eglash 2002). Their traditional education processes were carefully constructed around observing natural processes, adapting modes of survival, obtaining sustenance from the plant and animal world, and using natural materials to make their tools and implements. All of this was made understandable through demonstration and observation accompanied by thoughtful stories in which the lessons were imbedded (Kawagley 1995; Cajete 2000). However, indigenous views of the world and approaches to education have been brought into jeopardy with the spread of western social structures and institutionalized forms of cultural transmission (Barnhardt and Kawagley 1999).

Recently, many Indigenous as well as non-Indigenous people have begun to recognize the limitations of a mono-cultural education system, and new approaches have begun to emerge that are contributing to our understanding of the relationship between indigenous ways of knowing and those associated with western society and formal education. Our challenge now is to devise a system of education for all people that respects the epistemological and pedagogical foundations provided by both indigenous and western cultural traditions. While the examples used here will be drawn primarily from the Alaska Native context, they are intended to be illustrative of the issues that emerge in any indigenous context where efforts are underway to reconnect education to a sense of place and its attendant cultural practices and manifestations.

Indigenous Knowledge and Western Science Converge

While western science and education tend to emphasize compartmentalized knowledge which is often de-contextualized and taught in the detached setting of a classroom or laboratory, indigenous people have traditionally acquired their knowledge through direct experience in the natural world. For them, the particulars come to be understood in relation to the whole, and the “laws” are continually tested in the context of everyday survival. Western thought also differs from indigenous thought in its notion of competency. In western terms, competency is often assessed based on predetermined ideas of what a person should know, which is then measured indirectly through various forms of “objective” tests. Such an approach does not address whether that person is actually capable of putting that knowledge into practice. In the traditional Native sense, competency has an unequivocal relationship to survival or extinction—if you fail as a caribou hunter, your whole family may be in jeopardy . You either have it, or you don't, and it is tested in a real-world context.

The American Association for the Advancement of Science has begun to recognize the potential contributions that indigenous people can make to our understanding of the world around us (Lambert 2003). In addition to sponsoring a day-long symposium on “Native Science” at the 2003 Annual Meeting in Denver, AAAS has published a Handbook on Traditional Knowledge and Intellectual Property to guide traditional knowledge holders in protecting their intellectual property and maintaining biological diversity (Hansen and VanFleet 2003). In the handbook, AAAS defines traditional knowledge as follows:

Traditional knowledge is the information that people in a given community, based on experience and adaptation to a local culture and environment, have developed over time, and continue to develop. This knowledge is used to sustain the community and its culture and to maintain the genetic resources necessary for the continued survival of the community (2003:3).

Indigenous people do a form of “science” when they are involved in the annual cycle of subsistence activities. They have studied and know a great deal about the flora and fauna, and they have their own classification systems and versions of meteorology, physics, chemistry, earth science, astronomy, botany, pharmacology, psychology (knowing one's inner world), and the sacred (Burgess 1999). For a Native student imbued with an indigenous, experientially grounded, holistic world view, typical approaches to schooling can present an impediment to learning, to the extent that they focus on compartmentalized knowledge with little regard for how academic subjects relate to one another or to the surrounding universe.

To bring significance to learning in indigenous settings, the explanations of natural phenomena are best understood by students if they are cast first in indigenous terms to which they can relate, and then explained in western terms. For example, when choosing an eddy along the river for placing a fishing net, it can be explained initially in the indigenous way of understanding, pointing out the currents, the movement of debris and sediment in the water, the likely path of the fish, the condition of the river bank, upstream conditions affecting water levels, the impact of passing boats, etc. Once the students understand the significance of the knowledge being presented, it can then be explained in western terms, such as flow, velocity, resistance, turbidity, sonar readings, tide tables, etc., to illustrate how the modern explanation adds to the traditional understanding (and vice versa). All learning can start with what the student and community already know and have experienced in everyday life. The indigenous student (as with most students) will then become more motivated to learn when the subject matter is based on something useful and suitable to the livelihood of the community and is presented in a way that reflects a familiar world view (Kawagley 1995; Lipka 1998; Battiste 2000).

Since western scientific perspectives influence decisions that impact every aspect of indigenous people’s lives, from education to fish and wildlife management, indigenous people themselves have begun to take an active role in re-asserting their own traditions of science in various research and policy-making arenas (Arctic Environmental Protection Strategy 1993; Cochran 2004). As a result, there is a growing awareness of the depth and breadth of knowledge that is extant in many indigenous societies and its potential value in addressing issues of contemporary significance, including the adaptive processes associated with learning and knowledge construction. The following observation by Bielawski illustrates this point:

Indigenous knowledge is not static, an unchanging artifact of a former lifeway. It has been adapting to the contemporary world since contact with “others” began, and it will continue to change. Western science in the North is also beginning to change in response to contact with indigenous knowledge. Change was first seen in the acceptance that Inuit (and other Native northerners) have knowledge, that is ‘know something.’ Then change moved to involving Inuit in the research process as it is defined by western science. Then community-based research began, wherein communities and native organizations identified problems and sought the means to solve them. I believe the next stage will be one in which Inuit and other indigenous peoples grapple with the nature of what scientists call research (1990:8).

Such an awareness of the contemporary significance of indigenous knowledge systems has entered into policy development arenas on an international level, as is evident in the following statement in the Arctic Environmental Protection Strategy:

Resolving the various concerns that indigenous peoples have about the development of scientific based information must be addressed through both policy and programs. This begins with reformulating the principles and guidelines within which research will be carried out and involves the process of consultation and the development of appropriate techniques for identifying problems that indigenous peoples wish to see resolved. But the most important step that must be taken is to assure that indigenous environmental and ecological knowledge becomes an information system that carries its own validity and recognition. A large effort is now underway in certain areas within the circumpolar region, as well as in other parts of the world, to establish these information systems and to set standards for their use (1993:27).

Indigenous societies, as a matter of survival, have long sought to understand the regularities in the world around them, recognizing that nature is underlain with many unseen patterns of order. For example, out of necessity, Alaska Native people have made detailed observations of animal behavior (including the inquisitiveness of caribou). They have learned to decipher and adapt to the constantly changing patterns of weather and seasonal cycles. The Native elders have long been able to predict weather based upon observations of subtle signs that presage what subsequent conditions are likely to be. The wind, for example, has irregularities of constantly varying velocity, humidity, temperature, and direction due to topography and other factors. There are non-linear dimensions to clouds, irregularities of cloud formations, anomalous cloud luminosity, and different forms of precipitation at different elevations. Behind these variables, however, there are patterns, such as prevailing winds or predictable cycles of weather phenomena that can be discerned through long observation (though global climate change is taking its toll on weather predictability). Over time, Native people have observed that the weather’s dynamic is not unlike the mathematical characteristics of fractals, where patterns are reproduced within themselves and the parts of a part are part of another part which is a part of still another part, and so on.

For indigenous people there is a recognition that many unseen forces are at play in the elements of the universe and that very little is naturally linear, or occurs in a two-dimensional grid or a three dimensional cube. They are familiar with the notions of conservation of energy, irregularities in patterns and anomalies of form and force. Through long observation they have become specialists in understanding the interconnectedness and holism of our place in the universe (Barnhardt and Kawagley 1999; Cajete 2000; Eglash 2002).

The new sciences of chaos and complexity and the study of non-linear dynamic systems have helped Western scientists to also recognize order in phenomena that were previously considered chaotic and random. These patterns reveal new sets of relationships which point to the essential balances and diversity that help nature to thrive. Indigenous people have long recognized these interdependencies and have sought to maintain harmony with all of life. Western scientists have constructed the holographic image, which lends itself to the Native concept of everything being connected. Just as the whole contains each part of the image, so too does each part contain the makeup of the whole. The relationship of each part to everything else must be understood to produce the whole image. With fractal geometry, holographic images and the sciences of chaos and complexity, the Western thought-world has begun to focus more attention on relationships, as its proponents recognize the interconnectedness in all elements of the world around us (Capra 1996; Sahtouris 2000). Thus there is a growing appreciation of the complementarity that exists between what were previously considered two disparate and irreconcilable systems of thought (Kawagley and Barnhardt 2004).

The incongruities between western institutional structures and practices and indigenous cultural forms will not be easy to reconcile. The complexities that come into play when two fundamentally different worldviews converge present a formidable challenge. The specialization, standardization, compartmentalization, and systematization that are inherent features of most western bureaucratic forms of organization are often in direct conflict with social structures and practices in indigenous societies, which tend toward collective decision-making, extended kinship structures, ascribed authority vested in elders, flexible notions of time, and traditions of informality in everyday affairs (Barnhardt 2000). It is little wonder then that formal education structures, which often epitomize western bureaucratic forms, have been found wanting in addressing the educational needs of traditional societies.

When engaging in the kind of comparative analysis of different world views outlined above, any generalizations should be recognized as indicative and not definitive, since indigenous knowledge systems are diverse themselves and are constantly adapting and changing in response to new conditions. The qualities identified for both indigenous and western systems represent tendencies rather than fixed traits, and thus must be used cautiously to avoid overgeneralization (Gutierrez and Rogoff 2003). At the same time, it is the diversity and dynamics of indigenous societies that enrich our efforts as we seek avenues to integrate indigenous knowledge systems in a complementary way with the system of education we call schooling.

Intersecting World Views: The Alaska Experience

The sixteen distinct indigenous cultural and language systems that continue to survive in villages throughout Alaska have a rich cultural history that still governs much of everyday life in those communities. For over six generations, however, Alaska Native people have been experiencing recurring negative feedback in their relationships with the external systems that have been brought to bear on them, the consequences of which have been extensive marginalization of their knowledge systems and continuing erosion of their cultural integrity. Though diminished and often in the background, much of the Native knowledge systems, ways of knowing and world views remains intact and in practice, and there is a growing appreciation of the contributions that indigenous knowledge can make to our contemporary understanding in areas such as medicine, resource management, meteorology, biology, and in basic human behavior and educational practices (James 2001).

Alaska Natives have been at the forefront in bringing indigenous perspectives into a variety of policy arenas through a wide range of research and development initiatives in recent years. In the past two years alone, the National Science Foundation has funded projects incorporating indigenous knowledge in the study of climate change, the development of indigenous-based math curriculum, the effects of contaminants on subsistence foods, observations of the aurora, and alternative technology for waste disposal. In addition, Native people have formed new institutions of their own (e.g., the Consortium for Alaska Native Higher Education, the Alaska Native Science Commission and the First Alaskans Institute) to address some of these same issues through an indigenous lens.

Alaska Native people have taken an active role in promoting the integration of traditional knowledge with western science traditions, though their reasons for sharing their knowledge with outsiders have been varied, as indicated by Richard Glenn, an Inupiaq who has served on the Arctic Research Consortium and the Alaska Native Science Commission:

Why do Iñupiat share traditional knowledge? Despite the stigma, our community is proud of a long history of productive, cooperative efforts with visiting researchers, hunters, travelers, scientists, map makers and others. We share when we consider others close enough to be part of Iñupiat culture and share when it is in the best interest of a greater cultural struggle (Glenn 2000:13–14).

In an effort to address the issues associated with converging knowledge systems in a more comprehensive way and apply new insights to address long-standing and often intractable problems, in1995 the University of Alaska Fairbanks, under contract with the Alaska Federation of Natives and with funding support from the National Science Foundation program, entered into a ten-year educational development endeavor—the Alaska Rural Systemic Initiative. The most critical salient feature of the context in which this work has been situated is the vast cultural and geographical diversity represented by the sixteen distinct indigenous linguistic/cultural groups distributed across five major geographic regions, as the following map illustrates.

Through the Alaska Rural Systemic Initiative (AKRSI), a statewide network of 20 partner school districts was formed, involving a total of 176 rural schools serving nearly 20,000 predominately Alaska Native students. The remaining 28 rural school districts in Alaska (103 rural schools serving mostly non-Native communities) have served as a comparison group for assessing the impact of the AKRSI initiatives. Utilizing an educational reform strategy focusing on integrating local knowledge and pedagogical practices into all aspects of the education system, this established network of partner schools serving diverse indigenous populations has provided a fertile real-world context in which to address the many issues associated with learning and indigenous knowledge systems outlined above.

The activities associated with the Alaska Rural Systemic Initiative have been aimed at fostering connectivity and complementarity between the indigenous knowledge systems rooted in the Native cultures that inhabit rural Alaska and the formal education systems that have been imported to serve the educational needs of rural Native communities. The underlying purpose of these efforts has been to implement a set of research-based initiatives to systematically document the indigenous knowledge systems of Alaska Native people and to develop pedagogical practices and school curricula that appropriately incorporate indigenous knowledge and ways of knowing into the formal education system. The following initiatives have constituted the major thrusts of the AKRSI applied research and educational development strategy (details are available at www.ankn.uaf.edu):

Indigenous Science Knowledge Base/Multimedia Cultural Atlas Development
Native Ways of Knowing/Parent Involvement
Elders and Cultural Camps/Academy of Elders
Village Science Applications/Science Camps and Fairs
Alaska Native Knowledge Network/Cultural Resources and Web Site
Alaska Standards for Culturally Responsive Schools
Native Educator Associations/Leadership Development

Over a period of ten years, these initiatives have served to strengthen the quality of educational experiences and consistently improve the academic performance of students in participating schools throughout rural Alaska (AKRSI Annual Report 2003). In the course of implementing the AKRSI initiatives, we have come to recognize that there is much more to be gained from further mining the fertile ground that exists within indigenous knowledge systems, as well as at the intersection of converging knowledge systems and world views. The following diagram is intended to capture some of the critical elements that come into play when indigenous knowledge systems and western science traditions are put side-by-side and nudged together in an effort to develop more culturally responsive science curricula (Stephens 2000).

Diagram 1
Qualities Associated with Traditional Knowledge and Western Science

In the Handbook for Culturally Responsive Science Curriculum, Sidney Stephens explains the significance of the various components of this diagram as follows:

For many Native educators, culturally responsive science curriculum has to do with their passion for making cultural knowledge, language and values a prominent part of the schooling system. It has to do with presenting science within the whole of cultural knowledge in a way that embodies that culture (the Traditional Native Knowledge circle in the diagram), and with demonstrating that science standards can be met in the process. It also has to do with finding the knowledge, strategies and support needed to carry out this work. For those educators not so linked to the local culture, culturally responsive science curriculum has more to do with connecting what is known about Western science education to what local people know and value (the Western Science circle) (2000:10)

The implications for the learning processes imbedded in the three domains of knowledge represented in the overlapping circles are numerous and of considerable significance. Stephens highlights some of the implications for how we approach education as follows:

Although educators obviously differ in their perspective, there is no doubt that the creation of culturally responsive science curriculum has powerful implications for students for at least three reasons. The first is that a student might conceivably develop all of the common ground skills and understandings while working from and enhancing a traditional knowledge base. The second is that acquisition of the common ground, regardless of route, is a significant accomplishment. And the third is that exploration of a topic through multiple knowledge systems can only enrich perspective and create thoughtful dialog (2000:10-11).

With these considerations in mind, the Alaska Rural Systemic Initiative has sought to serve as a catalyst to promulgate curricular and pedagogical reforms focusing on increasing the level of connectivity and complementarity between the formal education systems and the indigenous knowledge systems of the communities in which the schools are situated. In so doing, the AKRSI has attempted to bring the two systems together in a manner that promotes a synergistic relationship such that the two previously disparate systems join to form a more comprehensive holistic system that can better serve all students, not just Alaska Natives, while at the same time preserving the essential integrity of each component of the larger over-lapping system. The implications of such an approach to learning as it relates to indigenous knowledge systems extend far beyond Native communities in Alaska, as indicated by Battiste in her comprehensive literature review on Indigenous Knowledge and Pedagogy in First Nations Education (Canada):

Indigenous scholars discovered that indigenous knowledge is far more than the binary opposite of western knowledge. As a concept, indigenous knowledge benchmarks the limitations of Eurocentric theory — its methodology, evidence, and conclusions — reconceptualizes the resilience and self-reliance of indigenous peoples, and underscores the importance of their own philosophies, heritages, and educational processes. Indigenous knowledge fills the ethical and knowledge gaps in Eurocentric education, research, and scholarship (2002:5).

Examples of what this “fresh vantage point” looks like are provided in recently developed curriculum materials that seek to integrate western and indigenous knowledge in a complementary way (cf. Aikenhead 2001; Adams and Lipka 2003; Carlson 2003). Indigenous people themselves have begun to rethink their role and seek to blend old and new practices in ways that are more likely to fit contemporary conditions. There are ways to break out of the mindset in which we are oftentimes stuck, though it takes some effort. There are ways to develop linkages that connect different worldviews, at least for a few people under the right conditions. The kinds of insights that emerge from such efforts often open up as many questions as answers. We have learned a tremendous amount from recent experience, and we find each year that the more we learn the less we know, in terms of having penetrated through another layer of understanding of what life in an indigenous context is all about, only to recognize the existence of many additional layers that lie beyond our current understanding.

One of the major limitations in these endeavors, however, has been the severe lack of indigenous people with advanced indigenous expertise and western research experience to bring balance to the indigenous knowledge/western science research enterprise. Thus, one of the long-term goals of the AKRSI has been to develop a sustainable research and development infrastructure that makes effective use of the rich cultural and natural environments of indigenous peoples to implement an array of intensive and comparative research initiatives, with partnerships and collaborations in indigenous communities across the U.S. and around the world. To begin to address this issue, UAF has expanded its program offerings through a series of special seminars, distance education courses, visiting scholars, international exchanges, internships and Indigenous Elder Academies. In addition, a new M.A. with an emphasis on indigenous knowledge systems has been established, with the following graduate courses now available to students anywhere in the U.S. or Canada through the Center for Cross-Cultural Studies distance education program:

CCS 601, Documenting Indigenous Knowledge
CCS 608, Indigenous Knowledge Systems
CCS 610, Education and Cultural Processes
CCS 611, Culture, Cognition and Knowledge Acquisition
CCS 612, Traditional Ecological Knowledge
CCS 602, Cultural and Intellectual Property Rights

The initiatives outlined above have brought together the resources of indigenous-serving institutions and the communities they serve to forge new configurations and collaborations that break through the obfuscations associated with conventional paradigms of research on cultural influences in learning. Alaska, along with the other indigenous cultural regions of the world, provides a natural laboratory in which indigenous and non-indigenous scholars can get first-hand experience integrating the study of learning and indigenous knowledge systems.

There are numerous opportunities to probe deeper into the basic issues that arise as we explore terrain that has always been a part of our existence, but is now being seen through new multi-dimensional lens that provide greater breadth and depth to our understanding. Given the comprehensive nature of indigenous knowledge systems, they provide fertile ground for pursuing a broad interdisciplinary research agenda. In the next section we will identify some of the most promising research opportunities that have emerged from the intersection of indigenous knowledge systems and western educational and scientific endeavors.

Emerging Research Associated with Indigenous Knowledge Systems

The study of indigenous knowledge systems as it relates to education falls into three inter-related research themes: documentation and articulation of indigenous knowledge systems; delineating epistemological structures and learning/cognitive processes associated with indigenous ways of knowing; and developing/assessing educational strategies integrating indigenous and western knowledge and ways of knowing. These issues encompass some of the most long-standing cultural, social and political challenges facing education in indigenous societies around the world. Public debate on these issues has revolved around apparent conflicts between educational, political and cultural values, all of which are highly interrelated, so it is essential that future research address the issues in an integrated, cross-cultural and cross-disciplinary manner, and with strong indigenous influence. Following is a brief description of some of the major research initiatives that have emerged from the study of indigenous knowledge systems.

Native Ways of Knowing/Indigenous Epistemologies: Indigenous scholars have begun to identify the epistemological underpinnings and learning processes associated with indigenous knowledge systems (Kawagley 1995; Cajete 2000; Meyer 2001). The Venn diagram depicting the intersection of traditional Native knowledge and western science presented earlier contains numerous topical areas in which comparative research can be undertaken to gain a better understanding of the inner-workings of the many and varied indigenous knowledge systems around the world, as well as a more detailed explication of the elements of “common ground” that emerge when the diverse knowledge systems interact with one another. Collaboration among scholars across the indigenous cultural regions will enhance the degree of generalizability that can be achieved as well as facilitate the transfer of knowledge to other related sectors.

Culturally Responsive Pedagogy/Contextual Learning: The development and implementation of the “Alaska Standards for Culturally Responsive Schools” and “Guidelines for Respecting Cultural Knowledge” by the Assembly of Alaska Native Educators (1998) has fostered a great deal of promising innovation in schools seeking to integrate indigenous knowledge and ways of knowing into their curriculum and pedagogical practices. While there appears to be a strong positive correlation between the implementation of the Cultural Standards in the schools/ communities and Native student academic performance, the details of those associations have not yet been fully delineated. The research implications and opportunities in this area are of considerable interest and potential consequence with regard to how we approach schooling in general, not just in indigenous settings. Research initiatives should engage scholars incorporating multiple research traditions and theories associated with cultural and contextual influences on learning, teaching and cognition. Of particular interest are the implications of current theories associated with various forms of contextually-driven teaching and learning (Johnson 2000).

Ethno-mathematics: Ethno-mathematics has emerged in the last decade as a powerful blending of insights from the mathematical sciences and cross-cultural analysis (Asher 2002; Eglash 2002). The National Council of Teachers of Mathematics recently published a collection of articles under the heading, Changing the Faces of Mathematics: Perspectives on Indigenous People of North America, several of which reflected research from Alaska (Hankes and Fast 2002). Alaska has been at the forefront in the development of curriculum materials that utilize Alaska Native constructs such as fish rack construction, egg gathering, salmon harvesting and star navigation as an avenue for teaching mathematical content that prepares students to meet national and state standards and related assessment mandates (Adams and Lipka 2003). All of these recent breakthroughs in our understanding of how mathematical knowledge is constructed and utilized provide extensive opportunities for research on mathematics learning across cultures that has significant implications for schooling, particularly since mathematics is one of the critical elements in the current assessment systems associated with No Child Left Behind.

Indigenous Language Learning: Indigenous languages are an integral part of indigenous knowledge systems and thus warrant particular attention in our efforts to understand how to better integrate learning in school with the cultural context of the home/community in indigenous societies. Research issues associated with indigenous languages extend beyond the makeup of the language itself to include the thought processes imbedded in the language, as well as how, when, where and for what purposes the language is used (sociolinguistics). Only then can we begin to understand what happens to an indigenous knowledge system when the language associated with that system of thought is usurped by another (G.H. Smith 2002).

Cross-Generational Learning/Role of Elders/Camps: A dominant theme throughout the Alaska Standards for Culturally Responsive Schools (Assembly of Alaska Native Educators 1998) is the importance of drawing Native elders into the educational process and utilizing natural learning environments in which the knowledge that is being passed on to the students by the elders takes on appropriate meaning and value and is reinforced in the larger community context. While available data affirms the broad educational value of cross-generational learning in culturally appropriate contexts (Johnson 2002; Battiste 2002), the dynamics associated with such learning has not yet been well documented and translated into comprehensive pedagogical or curricular strategies.

Place-based Education: The importance of linking education to the physical and cultural environment in which the student/school is situated has special significance in indigenous settings, where people have acquired a deep and abiding sense of place and relationship to the land in which they have lived for millennia (Barnhardt and Kawagley 1999; Semken and Morgan 1997). “Place-based” educational practices have received wide-spread national recognition and support as a way to foster civic responsibility while also enriching the educational experiences for all students—rural and urban, indigenous and non-indigenous alike (G. Smith 2002; Gruenewald 2003; Sobel 2004). Indigenous scientific and cultural knowledge associated with local environments is a critical ingredient for developing an interdisciplinary pedagogy of place (Cajete 2000). As such, these systems of knowledge offer many opportunities for comparative research into how traditional indigenous ways of learning and knowing can be drawn upon to expand our understanding of basic educational processes for all students.

Native Science/Sense-Making: The ways of constructing, organizing, using, and communicating knowledge that have been practiced by indigenous peoples for centuries have come to be recognized as constituting a form of science with its own integrity and validity, as indicated by a day-long AAAS-sponsored symposium on “Native Science” at its 2003 meeting (Lambert 2003). Mainstream science also has its distinctive ways of constructing, organizing, using and communicating knowledge. Both Native and mainstream knowledge systems are largely implicit, however, and while they overlap, they also diverge in ways important to how knowledge is learned and applied. Native scholars have been actively contributing their insights to the growing body of literature around the themes of Native science and sense-making (Cajete 2000; James 2001; Krupnik and Jolly 2002; Hankes and Fast 2002).

Cultural Systems, Complexity and Learning: An area of special interest in exploring the implications of indigenous knowledge systems and the structures by which they are perpetuated is the potential insights that can be gained from the application of complexity theory to our understanding of the dynamics that occur when diverse knowledge systems collide with one another (Eglash 2002; Barnhardt and Kawagley 2003). Since this is a sufficiently broad (and complex) arena with many convergent, divergent and emergent properties and possibilities, it has the potential to evolve as a significant research theme that capitalizes on the recent insights gained from the study of complex adaptive systems and through which we can apply those insights to stimulate the development of self-organizing structures that emerge from interactions within and between diverse knowledge systems.

Indigenizing Research in Education: Until recently, research traditions in education have been dominated by western science methods, models and practices, including those applied to indigenous peoples. In 1999, Maori scholar Linda Tuhiwai Smith published Decolonizing Methodologies: Research and Indigenous Peoples, which articulated the importance of indigenous people devising and using their own research methodologies and addressing issues from frames of reference that derive from within their own communities and cultural traditions. Indigenous scholars are in a position to enlarge the scope of research paradigms in ways that will benefit all research traditions.

The research topics outlined above have the potential to advance our understanding of learning as it occurs in diverse cultural contexts by exploring the interface between indigenous and western knowledge systems, as well as contributing to the further conceptualization, critique and development of indigenous knowledge systems in their own right, drawing on the experiences of indigenous peoples from around the world. The expansion of the knowledge base associated with learning and indigenous knowledge systems will contribute to an emerging interdisciplinary body of scholarly work regarding the critical role that the local cultural context can play in fostering academic success in learning, particularly among indigenous peoples.

Conclusion

An underlying theme of this article has been the need to reconstitute the relationship between indigenous peoples and the immigrant societies in which they are embedded. By documenting the integrity of locally situated cultural knowledge and skills and critiquing the learning processes by which such knowledge is transmitted, acquired and utilized, Alaska Native and other indigenous people are engaging in a form of self-determination that will not only benefit themselves, but will open opportunities to better understand learning in all its manifestations and thus inform educational practices for everyone’s benefit. Traditional processes for learning to hunt caribou by observation and meaningful participation can offer insights into how we create opportunities for students learning to operate a computer. To overcome the long-standing estrangement between indigenous communities and the external institutions impacting their lives, all parties in this endeavor (community, school, higher education, state and national agencies) will need to form a true multi-lateral partnership in which mutual respect is accorded the contributions that each brings to the relationship. The key to overcoming the historical imbalance in that regard is the development of collaborative research endeavors specifically focusing on education and indigenous knowledge systems, with primary direction coming from indigenous people so they are able to move from a passive role subject to someone else’s agenda to an active leadership position with explicit authority in the construction and implementation of the research initiatives (Harrison 2001).

In this context, the task of achieving broad-based support hinges on our ability to demonstrate that such an undertaking has relevance and meaning in the local indigenous contexts with which it is associated, as well as in the broader social, political and educational arenas involved. By utilizing research strategies that link the study of learning to the knowledge base and ways of knowing already established in the local community and culture, indigenous communities are more likely to find value in what emerges and be able to put the new insights into practice toward achieving their own ends as a meaningful exercise in real self-determination. In turn, the knowledge gained from these efforts will have applicability in furthering our understanding of basic human processes associated with learning and the transmission of knowledge in all forms.

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Nurturing Native Languages

Kawagley, O. (2003). “Nurturing Native Languages.” In J. Reyhner, O. Trujillo, R. Carrasco & L. Lockard (eds.). Nurturing Native Languages (pp.vii-x). Flagstaff, AZ: Northern Arizona University.

Many Americans are intolerant of diversity, be it cultural with its concomitant languages, or biodiversity in an ecological system. Instead, we see notions of human and cultural superiority with designs for a monolingual and monocultural society in which the English language and its associated culture presumes to become the language and culture of the world. Thus indigenous cultures have to contend with a language and its ways that has a very “voracious appetite,” as phrased by Richard Little Bear (1996). We, indeed, have a formidable enemy which absorbs our Native languages and cultures very readily, unless we are cognizant of its hunger and take protective steps. This mass culture can be most appealing to young people. Its behaviorisms, codes of dress, languages, and sometimes destructive proclivities inveigle young people to its world.

In contrast, Susan Griffin’s observations about nature ring true to me because my Yupiaq language is nature-mediated, and thus it is wholesome and healing. She writes,

We know ourselves to be made from this earth. We know this earth is made from our bodies. For we see ourselves. And we are nature. We are nature seeing nature. We are nature with a concept of nature. Nature weeping. Nature speaking of nature to nature. (1978 , p. 226)

Nature contains the creatures, plants, and elements of Nature that have named and defined themselves to my ancestors and are naming and defining themselves to me. My ancestors made my language from Nature. When I speak Yupiaq, I am thrust into the thought world of my ancestors.

From: J. Reyhner, O. Trujillo, R. Carrasco & L. Lockard (eds.). (2003). Nurturing Native Languages (pp.vii-x). Flagstaff, AZ: Northern Arizona University.

Let me cite two examples of the elements of nature naming and defining themselves. The first is anuqa—the wind. It is telling its name and telling me what it is. It is the moving air which is needed for life. The other is lagiq—the Canadian goose. Its call is “lak, lak, lak,” giving its name to us and by its behavior telling us its habitat and its niche in the ecological system. “We are nature with a concept of nature.” Truly!

We, as Native people, have seen our languages become impoverished in the last several centuries. Many of us now speak our Native languages at the fourth and fifth grade levels (if such a grading system existed for us). We look at the wounds in our minds, and we see that the wounds also exist in Nature itself. “We know ourselves to be made from this earth,” and it makes us weep when we see the destruction and pollution around us. We realize that the relationship between ourselves and our places is a “unity of process” (Halifax, 1994, p. 1). We know that there cannot be a separation between the two.

As we lose our Native languages, more and more of us begin to take part in the misuse and abuse of Nature. We use English predominately in our everyday lives today. We don’t realize that English is a language contrived by the clever rational mind of the human being. The letters were derived by the human mind. The words are a product of a mindset that is given to individualism and materialism in a techno-mechanistic world. For us to think that we can reconstruct a new world by using English and its ways will not work. We need to return to a language that is given to health and healing. To try to make a paradigmatic shift by using the consciousness that constructed this modern world is bound for failure. Albert Einstein stated something to the effect that “you cannot make change in a system using the same consciousness used to construct it.” This should be very clear to us as a Native people.

In my Yupiaq ancestral world egalitarianism was practiced. In this form of governance, no creature, no plant, or no element becomes more important than another. All are equal. In my great State of Alaska, I can incontrovertibly state that racism is alive and well, and seems to be gaining strength. This is a circumstance which is unconscionable and reflects a very destructive and alienated stance in the larger society.

How is it that we “stabilize indigenous languages”? I think that we must once again speak the Native languages in the home a majority of the time. If we expect only the school to do it, it will surely fail. The school must become a reflection of a Native speaking family, home, and community. During the waking hours of the day, the children must hear the Native language being spoken—in the home and in school. The one-to-one and family conversation in the local language must be the standard of the day. The community, family, parents, and especially the children must begin to know place. How is this to be done? By the elders, parents, and community members speaking to one another in their own language and from the Yupiaq perspective.

To know self, one must learn of place. How does one learn of place? You begin by telling quliraat, the mythology, stories of distant time, which are powerful teaching tools still applicable to the present. You learn of the times when our ancestors were truly shape-shifters. It was easy to change from one form to another, and one was in control of self. Values and traditions are taught by these stories which are so ancient that we call them myths. From these you can tease out problem-solving tools and discern characteristics that make for a healthy and stable person living in a healthy and sustainable place. Told by an elder whose inflections, facial, and body language add to the words, these myths teach not only discipline for the members but more importantly self-discipline. We must re-inculcate self-discipline in our people as a matter of survival.

The qalumcit must be told, as they are the stories of us as a Native peoples. They tell us how we got to be at this place, our movements, problems encountered and resolved, years of plenty and scarcity, how to read the signs foretelling events, how we made sense of time and space, how trade and exchange of goods and services were accomplished, and how genetic diversity in the community was maintained.

The rituals and ceremonies must be relearned and practiced. The loss of these have developed schisms in our lives. We have become fractured people. These rituals represent revival, regeneration, and revitalization of our Native people.

The yuyaryarat—the art and skills of singing, dancing, and drumming—brings one to a spiritual level. Our word “yuyaq” means to emerge into a higher plain, a higher consciousness through concentration on the movements when singing and drumming.

We must also seek to relearn the Native names of places. It is incomplete knowledge for us to know the distance between two places in miles. It is also important to be able to guesstimate the time it will take to go from point A to point B and to know the history and place names between the two points. Then it becomes whole and useful knowledge.

At the 1999 World Indigenous Peoples Conference-Education (WIPCE) in Hilo, Hawai’i I was a participant in a planning meeting for revitalizing the Hawaiian language and culture. One interesting side trip was a visit to a Native Hawaiian charter school a few minutes from Hilo. I learned that the local Native people had begun landscaping unkempt property and refurbishing dilapidated buildings. This was initiated even before grant funds were made available for the project. This is true determination and motivation to reconstruct education which is meaningful and effective for Native people. When my hosts and I arrived, we were met by the students at the entrance to their school. They sang in their own language, and several students made welcoming remarks again in their own language. When protocol called for my response, I responded in my Yupiaq language. To see and hear the protocol that had been practiced for millenia by their people made my heart feel good. This happening after hundreds of years of barrage to change their language and culture gave me hope that we too can save our Alaska Native languages.

It was refreshing and energizing of spirit to look at the landscape and see the work that had been done. The best part was a plot of land where only the original fauna of Hawaii had been planted—a very ambitious endeavor which required research and feedback from the few elders still with them to determine which plants are native to the land. One building had photovoltaic panels on its roof to power some of their computers and filter pumps for their fish hatchery tanks. At another location, young men were preparing food in the traditional manner of heating rocks with the ingredients placed in baskets on top and covered over with banana leaves and canvas. The food was eaten prior to the graduation exercises.

If you find yourself in a situation where there is a minimal number of myths, stories, rituals, and ceremonies available, then I would suggest that you find sources that are well written and your elders deem to be true. Translate these into your own language with the help of elders and knowledgeable community members that may be familiar with the technical language contained in that treatise. When satisfied with the final translation, read it to the group for approval. Then it would behoove us to read it to the youngster who will become the historian of the community—the future keeper and practitioner of sacred knowledge.

To bring the above back into practice is to know who you are and where you are. This would contribute broadly to the important notion that it is alright to be Native, to speak the Native language, and to use Native tools and implements in play and work. After all, our technology was made by our ancestors to edify our Native worldviews. Please, what ever you do, do NOT give to the youngsters the idea that modern technology has an answer for everything. It does not. Use it merely as a tool, and use it minimally and judiciously. Remind the students, that technological tools are intensive in the use of natural resources and energy. To accept technology blindly is to negate the painful works to revitalize our Native languages and cultures. I wish you all the wisdom of the Ellam Yua, the Great Mystery in your continuing efforts. “We are Nature.” Quyana

References

Griffin, Susan. (1978). Woman and nature: The roaring inside her. New York: HarperCollins.

Halifax, Joan. (1994). The fruitful darkness: Reconnecting with the body of the earth. New York: Harper.

Little Bear, Richard. (1996). Preface. In G. Cantoni (ed.), Stabilizing Indigenous languages. Flagstaff, AZ: Northern Arizona University.

Yup'ik Ways of Knowing

By Oscar Kawagley

Kawagley, O. (1990). Yup'ik Ways of Knowing.
Canadian Journal of Native Education, 17(2), 5-17.

When the earth’s crust was thin, there came into consciousness two sparks of life, a girl and a boy. As they surveyed and explored the remnants of a very large village, they often were puzzled: What had happened to cause the people to vanish? Why were she and her male friend alive? How did they survive? A conundrum only to be possibly answered by the supernature!

The old village was located on a river which emptied into the ocean not too far distant. The village faced south, the river flowed west. The flood plain on which it sat was bordered by mountains to the north. The village had been very large, judging by the number of houses in various stages of decay. Their house was in good repair, the cache full of much food and furs.

Each of these young people had to learn their roles by patiently studying, observing, experimenting and discussing how their clothing was made, the use of tools and hunting implements. Visions or dreams would come to them as to what to do and how to do it. In pondering the makeup of the mukluk or the parka for many days, she would tire of it and leave it alone, and then one day the idea would come to her—use the bone needle and make thread for it out of sinew. He learned to launch the kayak and use the paddles for propulsion. Their minds were young and receptive to ideas for working with the things at hand and in their world. Watching the grass bend in the breeze, he pulled on a tree limb and watched it spring back. Curiously, he put a stick on it, repeated the motion, and watched it being propelled, and, suddenly, what about that curved stick with sinew attached, and the sticks with feathers in one end and a pointed rock on the other end. Thus, came into being the bow and arrow, followed closely by the bow and drill for starting fires. So they grew and expanded their world always as participants.

They eventually became a couple and had a child. They were rich in food and clothing, and independence. The man in his hunting always searched for others like themselves, or for any signs whenever he went out. One day he returned from the ocean carrying a piece of wood that had not been cut by an animal but with a tool. Then they knew that there must be others somewhere. One day the husband prepared to go on an extended trip to explore further than he had ever done. He said that he would go out to the ocean, follow the coastline around the bend which must be a peninsula. He took enough food to last several days.

Several days pass—no husband. A moon passes into fall. Winter is upon them. No husband. Food is still plentiful. Summer comes and passes twice. During the spring of the trice arriving summer, food is short. She must now soak skins to remove hairs, and then boil it for food. One spring day, she climbs again to the top of the house facing the ocean. The sun is warming, but she is now skinny and must wear her hood. She cries for her lost husband, her son, and herself. She wipes the tears away and looks around. There is nothing to be seen. She again cries. She distinctly hears a voice saying:

“Pitegcurli has married two ladies on the other side of the mountain, curlik.”

Clearing her eyes, she look around. The only thing in sight is a little dark bird with a red breast.

“Aye! Aye! Who is talking?”

Silence.

Then the little bird opens its mouth, and repeats its song.

“Alright, if this is true, show me the direction of his place.”

Without another word, the bird takes to the air. It follows what might have been a trail through the woods, streaks for a pass and disappears over it.

“So my husband is not dead! It will take me days with my child just to get to the mountains. My child will get tired. I must find some other means to get me there.”

She ponders the problem. The solution slowly emerges in her mind—use an animal! She goes up to the cache and examines the animal skins. As she picks up each she thinks of the attributes and weaknesses of each. The caribou is fleet of foot and has food in abundance for it; however, it tires easily, would not have sure footing on rocks, and has enemies like the wolf, so she decides against it. She examines many and finally comes upon a bear skin. Now this is the animal. It has no enemies, no shortage of food, has great strength, and won’t tire easily. It has no problems climbing nor descending a mountain. This is my choice.

She takes it down, fills a wooden bowl with water and soaks the skin. While it is soaking she prepares what little food she has for the child. She tells him that she will be gone for some time and for him to wait for her. She goes out and finds that the skin is softening. She removes it and hangs it until the water has dripped off. She gets down on her hands and knees and throws the skin over herself. It is too large! The stomach reaches to the ground. She thinks, runs into the house, comes out with her large cutting board, places in on her back and throws the skin over her once more. This time it seems that it will fit. She removes all, goes into the house, and reassures her son that she will only be gone for a while. She then places a walrus skin over the door and weights it down. She is now ready for a transformation.

She goes to the bearskin and quietly begins to talk to it, “I am in need of your help. My husband has been gone for a long time. I am told that he is alive and living on the other side of that mountain. As I have taken good care of you when you gave yourself to my husband, now I am asking for your help.”

With that she kneels, places the cutting board upon her back and the skin over her. Lo and behold, the skin closes in on her, attaching itself to her and they become one. She runs toward the mountain. Before long, she is at the pass looking down at another valley. A river meanders down it. Close to the mouth is a house with smoke coming out the skylight. As she watches a young lady comes out, wanders to the riverbank and intently looks seaward. Soon she returns to the house. Soon another lady in a different parka repeats the actions of the other. This must be the place.

She goes down, removes the skin and board and places them on the ground, telling the skin to be ready when she needs it. She walks to the house stepping lively to be heard by those within. She enters the house. There are two surprised ladies sitting beside the firepit both with cooking pots over the fire. She quickly scans the room and sees her husband’s clothes that she had made for him on the bench.

“Wagaa! Where did you come from?” said one of the women.

“I’ve been looking for others like myself for quite some time. I just happened to see your house, and was very glad and curious to see who it was.”

“Do you live far?”

“Yes, I do.”

“You wouldn’t happen to be our husband’s wife, would you? He has told us that he has a wife,” asked the other suspiciously.

“No, I have always lived by myself.”

“You are so good looking! How did you get those marks on your chin?” asked the first.

“Well, you know at one time I was homely. But one day I was cooking, just as you are doing now. I had a thought, so I quickly dipped my ladle into the boiling broth and drank it quickly. The pain was so much that I became unconscious. When I came to, I went over to the pail and looked in. I had become lovely with these beautiful makings on my chin. Would you like to try?”

“Yes,” they both answered.

“Now when I say go, both of you dip into the broth and drink as fast as you can no matter how much it hurts. Are you ready? Go.”

They soon were stretched out dead. Before this act, they had told her that their husband had a strange request—that when he returned from hunting in the ocean, they were to dance for him. She dragged the bodies down by the river, erected two posts, and hung them on it, the parkas being over the posts with the top end in the hood.

She waited. Soon there was a rhythmical glistening in the distance. Getting closer, it was a kayak. Soon she recognized her husband. He began to sing, the women never moved.

“Why is it you don’t dance?” he screamed.

He grounded his kayak, jumped out, ran to one and grabbed it by the arm. It just swung around. He worriedly walked to the other.

“They are dead!” Disbelief, turns to rage. “Who could have done this? I will kill whatever killed them.”

The wife slowly stands up from the tall grass. “I killed them because they kept you away and let us suffer all these years.”

“You meddle in my life! I will kill you!” He runs to his kayak and takes out his bow and arrow. He starts toward her. She slowly kneels down and says to the skin, “NOW.” He is running toward her hiding place. She rears up. He stops, assesses his situation, and pleads with her not to harm him. She bounds toward him. He runs toward the cache and begins to climb. She just barely reaches his leg, pulls him down, pummels, tears, and rips him apart. She goes to the other bodies and does the same. Then she enters the house and rips it apart. Finally, the anger dissipates and disappears and rational self returns.

“Oh, my anger, now I am alone. My son! I must return.”

She quickly returns to her house. Her son is crying inside. She must hurry, she must remove the skin. Try as she will, she cannot. In her frustration she bellows, runs around the house and as she nears the entrance, rears on her hind legs and with another bellow hits the side of the house with all her strength. The house collapses. A little bird flies out and hovers around its mother, the bear.

To this day, the Yup'iks say that a bear is unpredictable because of the woman, and that there is a certain little bird that is very close to it because of their past kinship.

I began this paper with a myth told to me originally in Yup'ik by my grandmother. Myths are the Alaska Native’s tool for teaching. The human values that make me uniquely Yup'ik in cadence with the circadian and life rhythms of the universe are all slowly unfolded as my grandmother, and other elders teach me through myths and legends. Just exactly how did my Yup'ik people get to know so much about the world and reality? As I contemplate this question and reflect back to the stories, I begin slowly to see that the tools for teaching a culture, a science, a way of knowing, have always been with us. I know my Yup'ik people are intelligent and ingenious as reflected in their metaphysics and handicrafts, including the snowgoggles, the qayaq, snowshoes, and specialized use of furs for clothing. How then did this come about?

I will try to address the ways of Yup'ik knowing through:

1. 	interbeing mobility and animal messengers

2.	 intuition

3. 	visions and dreams

4. 	observation

5. 	spiritual interaction (most importantly)

The story my grandmother told me has all the feelings that a human being has: peace and harmony, sadness, hunger, jealousy, anger, remorse, etc. The Yup'ik have many stores, this one included, where a human being changes readily from human to animal form. The animals are known to wear a special parka characterizing each as the animal it represents. All they need to do is remove the hood by taking hold of it at the chin and pulling upward and backward. Lo and behold, a human head is revealed. In this story, the robin is the communicator of the message to the woman. As she considers which animal parka to use, she already has intimate knowledge of the animals behavior and needs. This is because “when the earth’s crust was thin” the humans and animals were accepting of one another and saw no problem with changing into another form of which they were a member already. After all, they believe in an “Ellam Yua", the Spirit of the Universe. However, they were created by the Raven, so how could they be better than or superior to all other animals, plants and the earth. Some shamans or lost hunters spent up to a year with animal people. During that time they learned their behaviors, their likes and dislikes, and how they were to be treated when they gave of themselves to the hunter. There was ready communications between man and animals, displaying a feeling of oneness, a unity of being.

There has been much said of intuition, that way of knowing most likely from the unconscious mind. The shaman introduced many to this new frontier of knowing oneself. This seems to have happened, and continues to happen, when thinking upon a problem long and hard. Finally, with no answer, one forgets about the problem only to have a clear message or thought emerge at the most unexpected time. When in tune with Nature, one is in tune with the Great Being, from whence the answer come. It is interesting to note that physicists and mathematicians are now working on a “Theory of Everything,” or “Unified Theory.” They have to go beyond the quantum theory and the theory of relativity to begin to realize an interconnectedness between all things in this universe. The Yup'iks have always understood this, and chose to live as a part of and participant in the “big picture.” Intuition and knowledge made the woman in this story choose the bear. It was only her extreme and uncontrollable anger which made the parka permanently attach to her body. Therefore, we have the admonition to meekness and moderation, even-temperedness and slowness to anger.

Shamans and certain individuals, with not particular credentials, were given to visions and dreams. Shamans were trained to have visions via a pot of water, through an animal’s eyes, through a star, and other means. These were referred to as “TANGRUAK” or “pretend to see” and their visions were often brought to fruition. Dreams often told of the future, especially with respect to an individual’s impending death. The shaman could tell by the “picture” or aura of a sick individual whether he would be ill for a long time, get well, or die. He could tell why animals were scarce for a particular time. He was an expert in human nature and the spirit world, and could project himself out of his body to other places known or unknown. The shaman was a messenger between nature, human beings, and supernature, and he commuted easily and readily between them.

The elders and others would talk about conditions of their environment when there was plenty of food—conditions which portended a scarce season. After several seasons, as they reviewed orally their observations, they would serendipitously discover the sense makers of nature telling them what to expect. They would note these and discuss amongst themselves—the years of plenty and those of scarcity. Out of this would come naturally, control of births, elders saying to all, “Now is not the time to bear children.” They also needed to know how cold and how long the winter would be. Again, nature would give them indicators, as long as they were willing to observe, learn and apply knowledge to ensure continuation of the people. There were times of sickness also, but it is said that there would always be a number unaffected whose task was to care and provide for others unable to do so.

The Yup'ik people made many serendipitous discoveries, such as: wolverine fur resists frosting; polar bear fur is especially good for absorbing radiant energy; pants and parka of caribou with the fur inside is good or better than a wet suit; walrus and seal intestines make excellent rainwear, etc. Yup'iks’ devised a system of architecture and engineering to construct the qayaq for strength, seaworthiness, flexibility, stability, carrying capacity, resiliency, transportability, and streamlining, so as to assure the user that he can trust its performance unequivocally.

His knowledge was based on a blending of the pragmatic, inductive, and spiritual realms. The shamans and artists brought into a Yup'iks life the by-laws of life, inscribed indelibly into tools, both intellectual and material. Both had the flexibility of thought necessary to use the conscious levels of thinking and to have easy access to the subconscious mind. The shaman had the added dimension of the spiritual world to solve the conundrums, or puzzles, presented by Nature. His function then was to explore and interpret what he saw creatively and positively, with his insight to be taught to his people. We have a word, “ella,” which according to the context used in a sentence may mean:

	outside	weather	sky	earth	universe	consciousness

You cannot be aware of others or things around you without consciousness, so it is embedded inextricably into this short but all inclusive base word. I think it epitomizes our world view of interconnectedness, which cannot exclude the consciousness of the human observer. Our mystical knowledge cannot have been gained merely by observation, which is the main basis for rational knowledge. To obtain mystical knowledge, observation must be coupled with the participation of our whole being—mind, body, and soul—with the universe. I have heard it said that “literature makes life meaningful, gives strength, inspiration and courage.” So, too, does our oral mythology. Culture has much to do with our state of mind, and the stories are a necessary tool for the transmission of the attitudes and values of mind. Culture also gives hope to its members that the attitudes, and thus, the things that make them uniquely themselves, will never be lost, but continue on, regardless of internal or external forced change.

Visualization implies a delicate awareness of things perceived visually, “through the mind’s eye,” including visions of the supernatural. Art may be thought of as a process, an idea, or a symbol to bring to visual or intelligible level an idea shared by a group of people. The making of masks is an expression of what one has experienced through one of the many levels of thinking. It is bringing into a tangible level the experience one has seen or had in the world beyond. Art is the essence of this. Just take for a moment a story of a man’s seal hunting trip as expressed in a Yup'ik dance. It will tell of his preparation, his expending of energy to get there, the behavior of his prey, his pride and joy in being successfully given a catch, and the reciprocation of he and his wife by making the seal welcome and using all of it for clothing and sustenance for the family and community members. The rhythmical drumming, chanting, and singing will help him to reinact his feelings, help him to become the prey, by behaving and being like it. The traditional chanters and dancers would put to shame any theatrical group, because of their ability to enter into the spirit of the hunter and prey. Visualization and, possibly, the trancelike state of the person, then seems to say that man, animal, and spirit become one. It seems to me that as we imagine, we cannot separate ourselves from whatever we are picturing. This is a beautiful attribute to have and one which should be capitalized upon in the process of formal education.

Shamans, men or women, who have had a profound experience hunting, or an everyday activity seen in a different or comical way, will turn it into song and dance. The Eskimo, Orpingalik (Halifax), stated that, “Songs are thoughts, sung out with the breath when people are moved by great forces and ordinary speech no longer suffices . . ., it will happen that the words we use will come of themselves. When the words we want to use shoot up themselves—we get a new song.” The “enlightened wisdom” of a spiritual being seems to express itself without the conscious effort of the recipient, or the person through whom it is speaking. All it requires is that the person be willing to be the vehicle for expression.

I have briefly tried to explore the Yup'ik way of knowing to form the foundation for a synergistic approach to teaching. As we look briefly at both the Native and western ways of knowing, we see that there is a scientific approach to both, although one goes heavily into a mystical/pragmatic/inductive way of sense making, while the other has chosen the mundane/experiental/deductive way. Yup'ik science gets its profound discoveries from interacting with the mystical, transcending man’s ability to analyze and understand the world through mathematics, sciences, and colonization. It can then be said in one aspect that the former have chosen herbal medicines and holistic healing to the latter’s choice of pharmaceutical drugs and surgery for healing. This expresses the dichotomy between the two views. They may have started from the same mystical viewpoint, but each chose their own way quite removed from the other.

I propose that it is possible to teach Native youth mathematics and, more particularly, the natural and physical sciences by capitalizing on the Native knowledge and skills that already exist in their culture. The natural sciences are nothing more than observation and mystical understanding of the interplay between Nature and man. The Native has perspicacious knowledge of Nature. The teachers must realize that these Native students entering school are not empty computer disks or sponges to be filled with facts and knowledge by the teacher. They enter school with language skills already in their minds, and the beginnings of an understanding of how they interact and are part of a family. They have the basic qualifications for success required of any student in the world who wishes to become a successful hunter, banker, scientist, teacher, world leader, or a renowned thinker. Their culture provides a basis to progress in acquiring new knowledge, new skills, and introducing new ideas on how to increase the quality of life without having to dominate earth and destroy her at the same time, and without relinquishing those group values that are deemed necessary to give life and distinctiveness to the group.

I propose teaching mathematics and the sciences through oral literature, mystical philosophy, and conservation (reflecting the sacredness of the Native relationship to the land), and utilizing the Natives special ability in spatial relationships. This can be done with an elder, who is a Native speaker and knows the little secrets and idiosyncrasies of the language, and can explain a concept in Native terms. Then take the same idea or tool and introduce students to it from the Western perspective, helping them understand the differences. The Western thinker has chosen mathematics and scientific terms and nomenclature to explain the same phenomenon. These questions of semantics take on an exceptional importance, because the Western perspective can lead to further alienation from the natural world, and the learning can become based on words rather than on participation and interaction with nature.

I advance this idea of “ethnoscience” as a way of improving the teaching of mathematics and sciences, especially to rural Native students, recognizing that youth of the dominant society experience the same difficulties in understanding abstractions and vernacular peculiar to the disciplines. To forget that a child has sight and therefore sees images, has a mind and therefore can imagine, and most often has the ability to draw or doodle, is a gross oversight of educators. To make the basic concepts understood in the elementary grades, one has to use all the perceptive/sensory tools, including visual thinking, and apply them to experiences with which the student can readily identify. The Native student and adult use the same method and thinking processes as the non-Native to seek answers to the same questions. However, different value concepts, perspectives, and philosophy determine how they interpret the empirical data, and how they each relate to the natural world. Each culture, through the millennia, has established a way to make the natural world accessible to reasoned inquiry—exploring what is real, what is truth, and what is good and beautiful. This flows and is channeled through their science, art, and religion. The natural phenomena in the Yup'ik family are explained in terms of readily observable characteristics, or experiences involving a high degree of intuitive thought.

This short paper attempts to set the stage for a more systematic approach to teaching based on the Yup'ik cultural perspective and criteria drawn directly from cultural experience. My feeling is that we will increase the student’s understanding and achievement if we provide experiences that build, consciously or unconsciously, on Yup'ik cultural thinking processes. Ethnoscience is nothing more than Yup'ikized or humanized science. There are no good reasons why we are bereft of scientists in our region when the educational system has been in place for over 100 years. It just manifests the failing of the educational system to recognize that “culture is science,” and that the teaching methodologies we use are too westernized in philosophy and thus are biased to that perspective only.

I, being a Yup'ik, have a unified world view, with a deep appreciation of educational catch phrases such as “collaborative teaching” and “holistic thinking,” but the thinking process stops there and confusion is rampant. Should it be bilingual? Which language should be dominant? Are we willing to say, “Yup'ik is going to be the working language in our region, with English as the second language.” Educators purport to endorse bilingualism and biculturalism, but their way the thinking does not accommodate either. Our children are on the losing end due to this confusion, not being able to master either language, with a resultant Yup'ik cultural gap. As one elder pointed out to me, “My high school children come home to our one room house. They are here, but a partition exists between us. They are losing our language and way of life, yet there really is no alternative lifestyle other than subsistence for many years to come. They now have needs and wants based on the white man’s way.” What a dilemma for a parent to be in.

My personal approach to science teaching, which some will quickly say is idealistic, is that we should make use of the language because it is a tool of the spirit, and therefore the voice of the culture. I should pay particular attention to Yup'ik learning style and to the people’s application of science principles. Our Yupiit have been in touch with Nature since the beginning of time. They have been in touch with the Ellam Yua, and, thus in touch with science, for science is nothing more than curiosity and the observation of how and why things work and how life can be made better through understanding. Since science is basically observation, modern tools only refine our ability to observe, and the written language helps us to record data.

Elder participation is critical to Yup'ik science teaching. Their thinking, learning and desire to convey the age old products of wisdom, including individual and group fortitude, values of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, are based firmly on Yup'ik spirituality and world view. The premise then in teaching Yup'ik science is to begin with the environment, which insures cultural sensitivity and relevancy, because it is something elders are most intimately in tune with.

I’ll use a simple example of an activity exploring science in the fish camp. The science of making “tepa” or “stink heads” leads to the concept of aging by bacterial action, chemical equations, toxicity, etc. It can be pointed out in this, and other activities, that the interest of the Yup'ik is the whole product, whereas the western scientist is interested in breaking down the whole into components to understand the end product and how it got to be that way (in this case without poisoning the consumer).

You can study the splitting of fish using a simple machine, the wedge. Why and how is it done? What are the energy transformations involved in cutting, drying, smoking, and storing the fish? Along with the fish, you can examine the Yup'ik identification of plants and animals, the life cycles, the food webs, climactic and weather conditions, the traditional way of telling time, animal behavior and habitats, the common sense measurements, plant and berry use, refrigeration techniques, inertia in a canoe and qayaq, and many other “science” principles.

The students will learn to expand their knowledge and skills, and should ultimately realize that not only we, but all men of the world are ecological dependents, and what we do with the environment affects our lives as a whole species. As they progress they should begin to think, “What can I do to contribute to the economic self-sufficiency of my region, and make it better environmentally?”

The students should also be expected to master the content areas and do quality work in not taking, writing, diagramming and labelling. Their study should include visual thinking sessions to whet their imaginations to see everyday pieces of their environment a little differently. Each exercise should involve thinking in the humanities, as well as math and science. In other words, this should be a MULTIDISCIPLINARY teaching and learning adventure. It can be fun to learn science tied to the world around us and through our own, and then branching out to discover universal laws of Nature! This is the meaning of Yup'ik ethnoscience—a Yup'ik way of knowing.

Tradition and Education:
The World Made Seamless Again

By Angayuqaq Oscar Kawagley

Published in Science and Native American Communities, 2001

I was born in Bethel, Alaska, and raised there by a grandmother who spoke only the Yup’ik language. I am forever thankful that she refused to send me to a boarding school, where I would have been forced to speak only English arid to abandon my Yup’ik culture. Instead, I attended elementary and high school in Bethel and grew up truly bilingual, learning my Yup’ik language doing childhood and English at a later time. But I am mainly thankful that she kept me there because I learned the Yup’ik world-view. I think that the cosmology and the ecopsychology of Native people are what defines us. The Yup’ik people are the participants in Yup’ik culture. They learn Yup’ik values, traditions, customs, myths, stories, legends, songs, dances, human and natural models, and above all, the Yup’ik language. Yup’ik culture creates a heliotropic world-view, a heliotropic mind. The Yup’ik language is also critical because it intimately connects one to the ancestors and their thought world. This is a spiritual, emotional, and intellectual connection that helps to shape all thinking and all behavior.

This cultural template allows the Yup’ik person to answer life’s questions. If, for instance, I was asked a question, the answer would involve the whole culture. Bits of cloth, places, language, and other symbols would all come together in my mind to help answer that question. I think that this is a beautiful aspect of the Yup’ik mind: every thought and action and symbol is linked to a pattern that makes for a very whole and healthy person. In a unified, heliotropic Native culture, when we seek the answers to questions about the outside world we are able to find solutions that work for the long run.

Just before 1885 a slight northern wind began to blow on my people in the form of the arrival of, first, Russian and, later, English explorers. Soon that slight northern wind became a gale. In 1884 or 1885, when my grandmother was a young lady apprenticed to an angellquq (shaman), missionaries came into her village of Mamterilleq (“the place of many smoke houses”) and renamed it Bethel. They established a mission and began to tell us that our culture and our sense of the sacred were evil. In their ignorance, they took our beautiful concept of helping spirits, the Tunraq, and redefined them as demons. They took the beautiful name of the chief of the spirits, Tunrangayuq (who is much like Christ in Christianity), and assigned it to the devil.

Then an agent from the federal government came into Bethel and started erecting new forms of government, implementing the welfare system, and compelling Western education. When the educational system was put into place, all of our children received a 12-year sentence to learn a foreign language and a foreign way of life. Yup’ik people were punished for keeping their traditions, a great deal of damage and hurt was done to us, and the gale became a blizzard. During our nearly 100 years of cultural blizzard, there were many things that became obscured so that we could no longer see or fully understand ourselves or our world. Occasionally there would be a break in the storm, and we would be able to see again for a moment, but then the view would become obliterated again.

Though the federal government and the mainstream churches have given up their overt efforts to destroy Yup’ik culture, there is still much confusion because our traditional values are no longer quite as clear for most of our people; new values have been layered over them. We have become people with a lens that is distorted; we have an astigmatism. We are missing some of the links in our culture; our holographic image is no longer complete. While we can see some things clearly, others are translucent, others are opaque. Destructive behavior has followed from cultural destruction. For example, people are killing each other and themselves at a very high rate-double the rate nationwide. I think this is happening because of the confused identifies and world-views that we have been given.

What can we as a Native people do to address situations like the one I just described, which is certainly not unique to the Yup’ik? Our traditional culture contains a relevant story that I will tell in a shortened form. Many, many years ago the season for spring arrived, but the winter never came to an end in a particular village. As winter continued and a big blizzard kept going and going and going, the villagers began to run out of food. Finally, one young man decided to take a risk and go out into the blizzard to seek food. He walked and walked for days on end and finally came to a place where the sun was shining and all of the vegetation was green and growing. As he stepped into that place, he turned and looked back and could see his village off in the distance, completely enclosed in the blizzard. An evil shaman had put a spell on it. But the moment the young man looked back from the place in the sun, the spell was broken. Some of our Alaskan Native people are stepping out of the blizzard and looking back. The spell of education as we know it is breaking and we have begun down the road to restoring ourselves to our place in the sun.

The Alaska Rural Systemic Initiative (A-RSI) is helping us achieve our restoration. It is funded by the National Science Foundation and is helping with the process of healing the schisms between our culture and people and the mainstream system that was imposed atop them. Through the A-RSI, we are changing the mathematics and science curriculums to become a reflection of our Yup’ik culture. We as a Yup’ik people have our own science and have crafted our own form of mathematics. As in Western science, there had to belong and patient observations to build knowledge and theories based on distilled experience with events. That knowledge and those theories are handed down to us in our mythology, our stories, and our proverbs. Our math, our science, and the technologies we developed from them grew out of our world-view, developed from our own mind-set.

We study each small piece of the world in which we live. Once we learn about it, though, we look for ways in which it influences people, influences other natural things, and influences the spiritual aspect of the universe. The holistic and spiritual components of our science are hig differences from mainstream approaches. In creating knowledge, there also has to be a touch of the person responsible. There is no such thing as objectivity in our world-view; we cannot and would not separate self from the thing that we are studying. The result is that each piece of knowledge is integrated with our complete cultural template, and generating that knowledge is done to help make our cultural template complete.

Our math and our sciences are also tied to a very intimate knowledge of place. For example, our math has a system of quantification, but quantification is of minor importance to Yup’ik mathematics. For instance, in traveling from place to place, it is not nearly enough to know the numeric distance. That would be considered incomplete knowledge. As a Yup’ik, I would also need to know the topography along the way, the sites where the old villages stood, the creeks that had naddle fish, the places where our ancestors camped, and a whole host of other things that are necessary for personal and cultural survival.

Our traditional technology was also certainly tied in with our world-view. We were, for example, able to refine copper and make it into tools for various uses. But my ancestors’ thought system, their language system, and their contact with the unseen world yielded uses of copper that, unlike those in mainstream modern society, did not pollute and did not lead to excessive slaughter of other creatures. Our technology was in harmony with all other parts of the world.

We have also received a grant from the Annenberg Foundation to create the Alaska Rural Challenge, which will help us begin to reconstruct the tribal histories of each of the individual Alaskan Native groups. If you look in the history books about Alaska, there is likely to be, at most, only a very short chapter on Alaskan Natives. Usually it is only two to three pages long, and often an Inuk in front of his igloo is used to represent all Alaskan Natives. There are many more Native groups and traditions than just that one. In our project, students and community members from each of those different groups are getting involved in reconstructing their tribal histories. We began with two villages, Carluch on Kodiak island and Umalaska on the Aleutian chain.

Jhon Goes in Center mentions in his chapter the value of mapping traditional places and examining traditional cartographic knowledge, which is something that we are also doing. Our elders share their knowledge with students and communities, and we ask them questions such as what was known in traditional culture about certain environments or what they knew about the theory of relativity even before Western science discovered it. Can you imagine that? I have gone through the mythology and found some things there that reflect the theory of relativity. Our mythologies are powerful teaching tools, and we must remember to make use of them, as did our ancestors.

We are also working on reviving our Alaskan Native languages. We have had bilingual programs for a number of decades, hut they do not work. Our Native languages end up getting forced into Western linguistic molds. As with other aspects of our culture, mainstream linguistics tries to tell us that our ways of knowing, our methodologies, and our knowledge are good only if they are translated into Western ways. I always caution our teaching staff and school districts that they must not Westernize our Native ways of knowing. That was done once before and proved to be very destructive both to the education of our people and to other aspects of their lives. We have to change the idea that knowledge and systems that are not from the Western tradition are no good. This hostile view of other ways of gathering and organizing knowledge has to change if Native education is to succeed.

I believe that Western thought is finally moving closer to traditional Native perspectives. The beautiful new mathematics and science of Chaos, for example, include concepts and feelings that approach some of the components of the traditional Yup’ik world-view. In Chaos science and in other topics and approaches, Western science is finally beginning to understand and value the connectedness of the world. There is also some evidence that it is beginning to add feelings to what had been an emotionally barren approach. I think that’s great. The old world-view of Western mathematics and science hindered many considerations and contributed to creating many problems. Now Western scientists are closing the gap so fast that they may soon catch up to where they found us 100 years ago.

One example of how we are trying to meld traditional and Western approaches is that our elders talk to students about the construction of the kayak. Students learn why certain parts of the tree are used for the bow and why other parts are used for the stern. They learn how to make the ribs; how to prepare and sew on skins; and how to make a seal oil and spaghnum moss mixture to use as a waterproof on the kayak. It is absolutely necessary that the students learn the Yup’ik technology and terminology connected to kayak construction, but we also challenge them to link this information to Western approaches. They might analyze the chemistry of the sealant, for example, to describe in Western terms why it works.

As you can see, we are beginning to educate our youngsters using our own knowledge systems and teaching strategies. We are also beginning to produce teachers who are well grounded in their own cultural roots, no matter what group they come from. If they are well grounded, they will be stable enough to support the traditional knowledge systems that we are teaching. I think that is one of the most important things that we want to do in the educational system, which is why we call it a systemic initiative; there is a need to broadly reconceptualize and revitalize Native knowledge and to integrate it thoroughly with mainstream science. The latter is an absolute must for our own people and for others; we have much to share with them.

Right now with the Alaska Rural Systemic Initiative and the Alaska Rural Challenge we are working with 20 out of the 48 rural school districts in the state. We have come to the conclusion that for the moment we have to limit it to that number of districts because our resources are limited. In addition, not every village is willing to take the risk of doing something new. Therefore, we are focusing on the ones that are willing to try something different. As a result of our work with them, hopefully in the near future we will have model villages that will lead the way for others.

Sometimes I wake up in the morning and say, “Why the heck should we teach Western mathematics, sciences, and technology when they seem to be in virtual mutiny against the universe and against life?” Then later on I say, “Well, I think the Europeans and their ideas are here to stay; so let’s take advantage of the things they have to offer that are good and not throw everything out because some things have proven bad for us.” There are many things from the Western world that we do not want to lose. So I tell myself, “Let’s get our young men and women interested in mechanical engineering to think about developing a small solar-powered engine for my kayak and a bed of solar cells for the hack of the deck.” Then if I want to cross the Bering Sea to reach ice that is several miles away, I can click on a little button to set my automatic pilot, click on another button to start the engine, and sit back as the propeller drives me along powered by the sun. I can take out my steel vacuum bottle, get a cup of coffee, and relax for most of the trip. Then when I get close, I can turn off the solar motor, take out my paddle, and glide to a stop at the best place to land. Whew, that would be a nice melding of traditional and Western technologies. In my traditional kayak I would still he in tune with my world-view. But I could also get some positive value from Western science and technology without making the intensive and damaging use of natural resources that a gasoline engine would require.

¹ The breaks do not have to follow the sequence that I have suggested. One end of the spectrum includes some elders , middle-aged people and youngsters whose satisfaction with life is healthy. This is the positive end. The other end of the spectrum is the place where the person is in utter confusion, and sees as the only way out of this debilitating situation is through excessive alcohol and drug use, or seeing that there is no recourse or choice left, suicide.