Puppy Love

Tufa in her playpen

Kartufala, a.k.a. Tufa, is about 3 months old. We're working pretty hard on the house training thing. It's been an expensive proposition to keep her contained. She has a crate, but I also had to get her a play pen. She can climb out of it. I'm waiting for the cover to arrive. Sure hope that's enough to keep her in it.

She doesn't make messes in her personal spaces, but I also have to be sure to get her outside regularly. It's a little hard when the weather's bad, but then she found the spot under my porch that isn't walled in. Now, when the weather's bad, she has an outside potty with a roof. Yeah, she's smart.

Cody and Tufa jaw wrestling

She also has sharp, pointed teeth which she uses. Often. She's learning that it's not nice to bite Momma's face. Hands. Feet. There is also a limit on what things she's allowed to chew. Any of the dozen or so toys lying on the floor is allowed; my slippers are not, especially when I'm wearing them. Of course, she still chooses the slippers. Every time.

This is Buddy. He belongs to the maintenance guy.
Look at his face, then look at Tufa's. No doubt he's the dad.

She's now as big as Shadow. Her tail now curls over her back. She looks just like her father. She knows her name. And "no." You know, the things she hears often. Unfortunately what I hear often is the yap yap yap of a puppy who thinks she might get her way if she barks for long enough.

The pack dynamic seems to be that Cody is the leader, and Shadow and Tufa are equal siblings. Cody and Tufa play a game that's mostly about grabbing each other in their jaws. Shadow gets Tufa to chase him, then he hides so she goes past him. He gets her attention, then gets her to chase him again.

There have even been 1 or 2 nights when she let me sleep all night before waking me to go outside. She isn't very cuddly, but she can be sweet. I guess as she gets older, she'll be easier to live with and to handle. For now, I guess it's a good thing she's cute!

Storytelling

 My class is doing a unit on folk tales, primarily trickster tales. I felt certain that someone in the village must be a storyteller or keeper of the local oral history. I asked around during the Slaavix and was told about a man who was the best storyteller. I called him last week to see if he was willing to visit the school and tell some of his stories. I told him he could have as long as he wanted, up to an hour and a half. I also asked if he wanted all the students or just the older ones. He is a brave man; he opted to have all the students in the audience. Of course, he's the grandfather of 5 of our 12 students!

The storyteller asked for a board on which to draw, so my students got him a portable white board, marker, and eraser. He sketched out a map of the south bay of a nearby island. Then he settled in to tell stories about things that had happened in and around that bay. I had expected to hear stories about mythology, like where the Aleut people came from or how the world was created. Instead, we heard more personal stories about people that he had known.

Some of his stories were from the time when all men were warriors because there were four different groups of Aleuts living on Atka. Some of his stories were from when people who are now known as "Old Man" were teens. Many of his stories mentioned religion, but the Orthodox religion rather than the religion of the Aleut ancestors. All of his stories were interesting to hear. Just imagine a group of students from age 5 to 16 sitting (relatively) still and (mostly) quiet for an hour and a half!  My favorite story was about how his grandmother got her nickname, chiiguyaaka, which means song sparrow.

When she was a young girl, the storyteller's future grandmother went with her family to the summer fish camp on the neighboring island. While she was there, a song sparrow told her that a bad wind was coming and that the people needed to go away. She told the people what the bird had said to her. Some of the people, especially some of the elders, didn't believe that a bird had given her a message because she was only a child, so they ignored her. Most of the people thought that it was a message from God, though, so they traveled to the two nearby camps, which were an hour and two hours away respectively.

Overnight, the wind started to blow. It was a harsh wind. After it ended the next day, the people returned to the fish camp, but it was gone. It was buried under about 12 feet of sand! The people wondered if they should dig down to rescue the ones who had stayed behind, but one of the elders, one who had believed the message, said that the people who stayed behind were dead, and the fish camp was now a burial ground. To this day, there is no fish camp in that spot.

During the last quarter of this school year, after spring break, my students will be working on writing memoirs. The theme of the project is that everyone has a story to tell. I've already asked the storyteller if he will return and tell more stories. I hope that my students will be inspired to tell their own stories.

Old Lessons Retaught

I mentioned in a previous post how I had recognized a melody during the Russian Orthodox service I attended. I confirmed my suspicion that Tchaikovsky used it in writing his 1812 Overture. Today was what I call "media day," meaning that instead of teaching fine arts I present videos, music, or images that relate to anything else I'm teaching. I started off playing a recording of the hymn. I asked the kids if anyone recognized the melody. All the heads started nodding. I asked if they thought they'd recognize it anywhere. Some of the heads continued nodding, especially two of the high school boys. Then I started a video of a live Boston Pops concert of the 1812 Overture, which we had previously seen. As soon as the music started, most of the kids recognized the melody. I let them listen with wonder and pleasure, then asked those who'd said they could recognize that melody why they didn't recognize it the *last* time I played that video. Suddenly listening to classical music became relevant.

Earlier in the day, I had gotten to revisit a lesson from Monday. We're doing a unit on trickster tales from around the world. As we started the unit, I wanted to introduce some literary terms. Among them was "anthropomorphism." The kids got the concept right away. I was sure they had it when one of them used the way I interact with my dogs as an example! They had more trouble remembering the word itself. Well, the home page for The Guardian web site highlighted an article with the headline "Anthropomorphism." I stuck the slide from Monday's powerpoint into today's, and added a link to the article. It was so cool to show a review slide and then open an article with today's date using the same term.

Those events, the times you get to close a circle and make learning relevant, those are the things that make teaching so satisfying!

P.S. I don't have any pictures to go with that story, so here are some pictures of a beautiful sunrise I saw this past week.

The corner of the school

My partner's house

Looking to the north

A little more east

The disk of the sun is just peeking over the mountains

Slaavix

The Star

The Russian Orthodox celebrate Christmas on January 7-9. That's because by the time they adopted the Gregorian calendar, there was a difference of 13 days between that and the Julian calendar. The Russian Orthodox church in Alaska has a unique custom called Slaavix or Starring. On each of the three nights of the Christmas festival, the people walk through the village holding a big decorated star. They go to each house where they've been invited and sing carols. Some are in English, some in Church Slavonic, and I think one or two may have been in Unangam. One of the altar boys holds and spins the star during the singing. The last song offers a blessing to the people in the home: "May God grant you many years!" Then the host offers the singers some light refreshment. People stay and talk (and warm up) for a half hour to an hour before going to the next house. On the final night of the Slaavix, the procession ends at the church.

I joined the Slaavix on Friday night. There were song books with the words, but no music notation. I wasn't able to join in singing the transliterated Slavonic and Unangam songs because it was too hard to try to catch the melody and decipher the words at the same time. However, I caught on to the ones in English after singing them a couple of times. I was given one of the song books, and I recorded the music, so I'm hoping some time before next Christmas I can find or create the written music for the songs.

While we were visiting at one home, one of my students handed me a fluffy brown puppy. I was cuddling her and commented that I was looking for a little girl puppy. The hostess heard me and said, "Take her! She's yours!" I was surprised and asked if she was sure. She said, "Merry Christmas!" So I now have a puppy! One of the women standing near me said her son (also a student of mine!) had wanted her to get a dog and name it Kartufala (potato). The pup does bear a striking resemblance to a fluffy potato, so I took the name. She's Tufa for short.

Kartufala

I haven't had a puppy since Beowolf. That was 18 years ago! I'm having to relearn how much work puppies are, but also how sweet and cute they are. She's having to learn everything, from eating dry dog food out of a bowl to walking up and down steps. She's figured out a way to climb onto the sofa without help. She knows that she's supposed to "potty" when she goes outside, but she doesn't understand yet that she's *only* supposed to potty outside. It'll take a couple of months for that, since it's also a matter of getting control of her little body.

Shadow finally meets a dog that is smaller than he is!

Cody and Tufa

After I understood what the whole Starring thing was about, I added my name to those who were being visited on Saturday night. I made a big pot of beef vegetable soup, a cheese spread, and a loaf of sourdough bread. When 30 people came into my house and started singing, it made me very happy. There was so much warmth that these people carried with them. The custom is a lot like going caroling, except done inside because Alaska, and with a much stronger religious orientation. The dogs behaved well for having that many people in their home. Tufa hid first in her crate and then behind the tree. Shadow greeted everyone, mostly to let them know that he was there to help if they had any food they didn't want to eat. Cody left his hiding place on the bed in my office and worked his way through the room until he was near me, guarding me from all the strangers.

It was a lovely way to end my winter break. We return to school on January 11. I'm rested and ready!

Church

Most people don't realize how religious I am. I use the word "religious" instead of "spiritual," not because my faith is supported by any one organized religion, but because my faith is as doctrinal as any religion. It doesn't matter that the doctrines are my own. There are teachings I embrace fervently and devoutly, and there are others that I reject just as fervently and devoutly. However, this post isn't about what I do or don't believe. It's about sharing my faith within a congregation of believers.

While I was in China, I tried to find a church that I could go to. There was a church that I could find my way to without any trouble, but it was evangelical. Evangelism is one of those doctrines I reject. There was a Catholic church, which I probably would have felt comfortable in, but the distance was somewhat prohibitive. Add to that the liturgy being in Chinese, and it just wasn't a feasible choice.

When I arrived here in Atka, I asked about the local church. I knew that one existed, and that it was Russian Orthodox, but that was all I knew. I tried to find out about services, but everyone I asked was strangely vague.

I was finally able to get information about the church, and today I attended the service. The interior of the church was relatively plain, with white walls and brownish-red painted woodwork and trim. The artwork on the walls was framed, painted icons, stylistically similar to medieval paintings, with gold accents. There were six large windows, each topped with a lunette. There were no pews, but there were a few chairs along the back wall. Otherwise, the floor space was empty. Near the center of the space was a table with a large, gold-covered book and candles. There was a little side table with a small bowl and some spoons. The front of the church had a small stage, with steps leading up to it. The wall at the back of this stage area was actually a screen for the altar, with doors. Most of the icons in the church were on this wall/screen.

There were three women, four men, and two children in the congregation, as well as two altar boys, two readers and three choir members. The congregation was separated by gender. In the absence of a priest, the service was led by the readers. Both they and the choir stood with their backs to the congregation, facing the altar behind the screen. At different times, the doors were opened. The bowl turned out to contain something for communion. I don't know what it was, since I didn't take communion.

Nearly all of the service, including reading the gospel, was sung or chanted. The thing that I noticed the most was that some of the music sounded like the opening of the "1812 Overture." I looked it up when I got home, and no wonder it sounded familiar. The opening is based on a Russian Orthodox hymn. Now I get to reteach that lesson, using the hymn as a way to get the kids engaged in listening. The fact that I get to scold them for missing the hymn the first time we listened is gravy!

I enjoyed the service. The setting was beautiful and restful. I could see the snowy mountains and an unusually blue sky through the windows. There wasn't as much spirit or vibrancy or whatever you want to call it, but I suspect that was because of the small numbers of faithful. I'll probably go again, learning to add my faith to what's already there.

Graduation Program

Our curriculum is based on mastery of benchmarks. Students progress through the grades as they master the skills and content at every level rather than when they've sat in class for a certain amount of time. After being here for just a couple of months, my partner and I realized that the school couldn't be set up any other way. Students are transient in ways we don't see in the Lower 48.

The airline that is so poor at delivering mail and packages is also the only way to leave the island--or to return. In October, one of the grandmothers had a medical appointment in Anchorage, but she wasn't certain when she'd be leaving. She was taking two of her granddaughters with her. She hoped to tell me ahead of time, but in the event, I only got about an hour's notice to prepare assignment packets for both girls. I was a bit confused about why the girls were going along. Someone finally explained to me that the grandmother wanted to have the girls seen at the clinic, too, and would wait until the appointments were done before returning. The girls missed two weeks of school in order to see a doctor! Such things are common, and keep kids out of step with their peers. Besides, the most we have at any grade level is 2 students!

The stockings were hung by the chimney
with care

Students will also leave for a semester (or two) and then return. Atka is "home," but they have relatives all over Alaska who will care for them for awhile, allowing them to attend bigger schools with more resources. They always come back, though.

One of these roving students returned in September to attend our school for his senior year. He only needed 2 1/2 credits to graduate: Health, U.S. History, and something in Social Science. I'm teaching Geography this year, so he joined the rest of the class for that course while I gave him completely individualized courses for the other two. We planned his studies so that he finished just before Christmas.

The District pays for everything associated with the commencement ceremony, including a meal for the entire community. The graduate gets to choose the menu, within limits. This year it was burgers and hot dogs. (You can't imagine how wonderful a grilled hamburger on a fresh, soft bun tastes when you haven't had one for 4 months!)

Since we were holding Commencement on December 19, my partner and I decided to merge that event with a little Christmas music program. Apparently, the whole village turns out for the holiday program, too. Given that there's nothing else to do here, I can understand that. However, we ran into a little problem, one that may take a long time and a lot of diplomacy to fix. If you know me well, you know that neither patience nor diplomacy are strengths for me.

There are people in Atka who truly, honestly, do not see a distinction between "school" and "community." To me, the distinction is quite simple: if the teachers are required to be present, it's a school event. If not, it's a community event. Teachers organize the Family Movie Nights; they're a school event. Someone else organizes pot luck dinners (and we don't have to attend); they're a community event. However, I can understand why the other perspective exists. There isn't enough going on here to compartmentalize. The problem comes when religion enters the picture.

I have always been a fervent supporter of the separation between Church and State. In many instances when this comes up, the rights of students to opt out are protected, but rarely do you read about the rights of teachers to opt out. For me, it's irrelevant whether or not I happen to agree with the religious doctrine being taught; it still doesn't belong in school.

For the program, my primary students sang "Jingle Bells," "Rudolph," and "We Wish You a Merry Christmas." My secondary students, who've been learning to read music and play the recorder, played "Soft Kitty" as a 2-part round and "The Dreidel Song." I chose the former because it made them laugh; I chose the latter because it was the first piece of music they had to read in our music theory text. The highlight of the program was the secondary students reciting "A Visit from St. Nicholas" while the primary students acted it out. I kept it as secular as possible. My partner designed the scenery and costumes, but she totally can't sing. There's no way she could direct or lead a holiday program!

I don't expect to teach Music next year, though it's a possibility. I hope to offer the secondary class a vocational arts class, with segments on sewing, cooking, and small engine repair. The primary class *may* get fine arts again, but their curricular focus in Music is learning songs that every child should know, and they already learned the aforementioned secular Christmas songs. It makes sense to me that our programs would take place at the end of the semesters to highlight what the students learned during the previous semester.

I am already getting not a little pressure to commit to doing a Christmas program next year. There is precedent for an end-of-semester program; our sister school didn't do a December program, but is doing a January one. The pressure is based on the idea that school and community are one entity, and the fact that *every*one in Atka is Russian Orthodox, except the 3 outsiders .

I want to be responsive to the needs of the community, but I don't want to put on a holiday dog and pony show. I've let a lot of things that offend me slide by because they don't require me to *do* anything, like having religious icons decorating the school. I don't want to make a fuss just for the sake of being right. I also don't want to be hassled for doing what *is* right.

I'm now a donor and member of Americans United for the Separation of Church and State. I may need help in drawing lines, both in having support and in knowing precisely where those lines should be drawn.

Holiday Season in Atka

I love the light of the menorah against
the blurred backdrop of the Christmas
tree.

It's that time of year. Throughout the land, streets are decorated. Merchants fill their shelves with tempting gifts. Every doctor's office and elevator plays Christmas music. Back at home, houses are filled with the smells of baking. Christmas trees occupy a treasured spot in our homes. Mysterious packages in bright wrapping appear under trees.

Atka provides only a pale imitation of the holiday season. Trees are artificial, if they're decorated at all. No one has a fireplace or mantel to hang stockings from. Given the problems with mail delivery, Christmas shopping had to be done a couple of months ago. There are no merchants, elevators, doctors, or streets. And while we might sing about Rudolph and recite poems about the other reindeer, Christmas dinner is likely to be reindeer steaks from the local herd.

Nearly everyone on Atka is Russian Orthodox. In that religion, the major holiday is "Russian Christmas," which is celebrated January 7-9. The local custom, according to my students, is called "starring."

The celebrants walk in procession starting at the church and moving house to house, carrying a star. They announce that Christ has come, both in words and in song. The star gets spun at each home, which symbolizes the spirit of Christ entering that home. Then the homeowner serves food and drink to the celebrants, who visit for an hour or two. Over the course of an evening, they eat a complete meal. Of course, the schedule of whose homes to visit on which night--and in what order--is set ahead of time.

I've asked one of the local leaders if I can participate this year. I think it sounds like great fun.

On the topic of holidays, I introduced our students to Chanukah this past week. Only one student had ever even heard of the holiday. We watched a cartoon that told the story of Chanukah, then the kids played with dreidels while I cooked latkes. We lit the menorah candles, and then we ate. For the rest of the week, my students wanted to light the candles, even without all the other celebration. It makes me very happy to know that I introduced them to a facet of culture they didn't know before.