Bush Style

     One of the things we really enjoy about teaching in a school like ours is the freedom we have in many aspects of our job: in teaching our students, designing curriculum, and just in creative problem solving throughout the school. A few weeks ago, for example, the principal, our itinerant guidance counselor and I sat down to put together our schedule for next year. Now, one would think that with less than 10 high schoolers, scheduling should be a breeze, but due to many highly questionable decisions made by the previous administration, we had an absolute mess of a schedule to contend with. We found ourselves needing to offer three different maths, three different reading/writing courses, and half a dozen history, science, and elective courses- all with one high school teacher, mind you. So we spent long hours meeting and bouncing ideas back and forth until we came up with a schedule that will work and that we're pretty proud of. Things like this just don't happen in the lower 48. There's a clear order to when classes are offered, and that's pretty much it. It makes for more work, but there's also more a sense of accomplishment when things get done. Of course, the freedom we're afforded often works as a double edged sword (as evidenced above), as many teachers and administrators unfortunately take advantage of our checks-and-balances-free way of getting things done in the last frontier, our "bush style."
     About a week and a half ago, Gary came in to my classroom at the end of the day to hang out and talk, a normal routine for us. Our conversation turned from the NBA playoffs (we're closely watching the Spurs-Clippers series) to the upcoming Spring Dance at the end of the year. This is another of our on-the-fly changes. With no graduating seniors, we were able to sidestep having a prom, settling instead for a much less expensive and involved Spring Dance. Gary told me about how dances have worked in the past here, and casually mentioned that the school hired a DJ every year, and paid for a charter not only for him, but for his entire family. The school was spending well over $10,000 every year for Prom, and well over half of it was going just for the music. That may be a reasonable amount for a large school, but for a school with 7 high school students and a small budget, that is a crippling blow.
     Horrified, I immediately went to the principal, Shannon, and told her not to hire a DJ for the dance this year. Instead, I attempted to convince her to invest in a DJ set up and sound system, which would cost the school half as much as a one-time DJ. Not only that, I continued, but this would be a purchase that could last the school 10 or 20 years. That day, the principal had me write up a list of equipment we would need, the next day it was ordered, and a week later the equipment arrived at the school.

So next Friday, I'm going to be DJing the Spring Dance. I've done weddings and parties in the past, but this will be a new experience. Hopefully, the kids will think my music is "cool" enough!

These are the same trusty speakers I have at home, purchased 10 years ago in high school.

Cama-i

Enjoy these photos from our recent trip to Bethel for the native dance festival Cama-i

We were shocked by how many people came. There were thousands of people at the school. In Alaska at least, we're only used to seeing 40-50 people a day, so it was a strange experience.

 Byron Nicholai, youTube sensation from nearby Toksook Bay, singing his song "I Sing, You Dance"

Check it out on youtube!

The "fort" we made where we slept at the district office with our Northern friends from Kasigluk. Tony, pictured above, is also from PA and a big time hunter and fisherman. I suggested at the beginning of the year that he should get into trapping. At season's end, he caught almost 20 fox and has a bunch of students trapping with him. 

One of the better dance groups we saw. Don't be fooled by their size, these kids were amazing!

The next time we see Bethel, we'll be on our way back to PA for the summer!

Greetings from Platinum!

When you're living in the bush, one lesson you have to learn pretty quickly is that, quite often, events are entirely out of your control. Take today, for instance. We took the day off to fly into Bethel for a doctor's appointment and to check out the annual Native dance and arts fest, Cama-i. It was a beautiful sunny day so we walked down to the airport to wait for the plane to arrive. The plane arrived in a few minutes, the pilot unpacked his load, and we were off soon without incident.

We stopped in Platinum to pick up four more passengers. Once we were airborne, I put in my earbuds and settled in for the hour long flight to Bethel. But a minute into the flight, I looked up, feeling the plane making a hard bank to the right. Soon, we were back on the ground, the pilot telling us that the engine was acting funny. He said he would risk flying the plane back to Bethel himself, but he wouldn't do it with 6 passengers on board. So he unloaded all of our stuff, we hitched a ride to the school, and now here we sit in the teacher break room in Arviiq school in Platinum.

Which is fine, actually, because every time we fly into Platinum to pick up additional passengers, we always try to spot the school amongst the houses and other buildings, always without success. So, we decided that we may as well take some pictures and write a post while we wait for another plane to come pick us up. Welcome to Arviiq!

Hallway outside the combined Jr High/High School classroom.

I'm not sure what the intimidating, gap-toothed fellow is all about.

The breakfast room. Students go home for lunch in Platinum.

Kitchen/food storage.

The unassuming facade of the school. There are less than 20 students K-12, and only two teachers and a principal. Today, the principal is away for meetings, so Devin, the high school teacher, is acting SA (Site Administrator). It's interesting how a person becomes acclimated to their environment. While we often are told by friends and family in the lower 48 that they can't imagine living in a small coastal village like we do, teaching in a K-12 school with 50 students, it has become routine for us; it's just our daily life now. And yet, after 30 minutes of exploring the school and the village here, we both find ourselves saying "I can't imagine living/teaching here!" 

This is a recurring theme in Alaska. When we first moved up here, I got my haircut in Anchorage, and my hairdresser had spent a month in Bethel as part of an exchange program. She was horrified by how small and remote it was and she got out as quickly as she could. This past weekend, in Bethel, we got into a conversation with some locals who, upon learning we lived on the coast, said "Oh my gosh, I can't imagine living so remote out there! I couldn't live without chocolate ice cream!"

UPDATE FROM BETHEL

After hanging out in Platinum for three hours, we got a call that a plane was finally coming to pick us up, so we packed our stuff up and headed back to the airport.

We discovered that our pilot was not able to fly the first plane back out to Bethel after all.

They sent out a mechanic, so as we packed up and headed out, 

the pilot and the mechanic started to work on the engine.