Ed Hunter

Culturally Responsive Teaching

Culturally Responsive Teaching (CRT) begins with the idea that students are all coming from somewhere. They are all coming from unique perspectives, and these perspectives inherently shape the way they will learn or assimilate new information. When a teacher attempts to be culturally responsive, he or she tries to understand where the students, as a group, have relevant knowledge that can connect them to the subject to be taught. Thus, for instance, when we did the science experiment with the moss, an assumption was made about the familiarity of the class with modern American childcare strategies and technologies. There was no question as to whether we knew there were such things as “diapers” and that these “diapers” contained absorbent materials. The lesson then moved from our knowledge of something we did know to something we probably didn’t: local Tlingit people used to use a certain type of moss for a similar purpose. Not only was this a very novel idea, but it connected the local people in the class to their own local history, thus expanding their own self-knowledge and sense of the place they were from. More importantly, the experiment generated genuine curiosity, since it was intriguing to think of how absorbent the moss was, relative to modern products. How effective were the technologies traditionally used? It’s a tantalizing question, and one which really generates interest for the student.

There are lots of ways to employ such strategies in disciplines beyond math and science. For instance, in order to help local students understand Jewish responses to the first century BCE Roman occupation of the Kingdom of Judea, one could invoke parallels between the Roman occupation and the American colonization of Alaska. In both cases you have a militarily irresistible world power laying claim to the territory of another people. In both cases the great power considered itself the halcyon of civilization and had little regard for the ancient civilization of the local people. In both cases the stronger power imposed its own form of governance on the weaker with ethnic members of the great power holding all of the ultimate authority. In both cases the world power brought new technologies and claimed that it had imposed law and order on the region (cf. this Monty Python sketch). So, laying all of this out, the stage would be set to ask students, based on local responses to the American occupation of Alaska, how the Jews may have variously perceived the Roman occupation. It would be hoped that students could extrapolate that there was a feeling of resentment, helplessness, cultural suppression, and a longing for a freedom that never seemed to come. It would also be hoped that students might anticipate cultural collaborators and those who capitulated to Roman rule or even appreciated and approved of it. Using the results of these speculations, we might be able to see the attractiveness of the religious and political messianism that was so widespread in Judea in the first century CE and why it took the varied forms that it did.

Another thought that comes to mind in the discipline of English might be an explanation of the way languages (including English) develop “loan words,” which are words taken from other languages with very similar or modified meanings. Thus, for instance, Yup’ik first-language students in my student teaching placement could be asked to come up with some English words that have been incorporated wholesale into Yup’ik. (I am not aware of any, specifically, but technology words like “laptop” and “internet” are a sure-fire bet.) I could then explain that English has many such words as well, including such things as “quesadilla,” where the loan is probably obvious and fairly recent, and “tyrant,” where the loan is very old and not necessarily obvious. This line of reasoning could also be used to promote discussion about whether or not words such as “internet” are truly Yup’ik or words like “quesadilla” are truly English. I think there are varying answers to this question, but ultimately what I would be trying to get across is that all languages borrow from one another to a greater or lesser extent and that there is no such thing as a “pure” or “uncontaminated” language (contra the official position of the French government). Progressing in this way, I would hope to help students understand the way their own language is working, the way English is working, and to be able to recognize and identify the broader principle of linguistic borrowing and the effect they should expect it to have on their language in their own lifetime.

Yup’ik Religion

(Photo Above: A Yup’ik boy holding the Nativity “star” that passes through every house in the village on the days following the Russian Orthodox Feast of Nativity. Image from Kwethluk, January 2016.)

To be honest, I’m not feeling super hot about my potential topic or super focused. As of right now, I’m planning on doing something on religion in Western Alaska. I’m struggling, however, with narrowing my focus and with coming up with a good “essential question” to answer.

What I can say definitely is that I would be looking at doing a period-long lesson for an Alaska Studies or American History course in roughly 11th grade. (I’m not sure in what grade levels Alaska typically holds these courses.) I would presume, then, that my lesson should be roughly 45 minutes to an hour. (I believe period times vary district to district.) Because my school placement will be in the Kuskokuim region, my ultimate target audience will be from that place. With that in mind, the task becomes a little trickier, since information that would be new and interesting to a broader audience might be usual or commonly known to locals.

There are also questions of how much detail I should go into. The vast majority of Yup’ik villages are monoreligious and either Moravian or (Russian) Orthodox. However, there are also a small number of Roman Catholic villages and one Evangelical Covenant village in the region. Aside from the villages, there are also Bethel and Dillingham, which are not monoreligious, and presently serve as entry points for new religious movements into the area. I am tempted to talk mostly about Moravianism and Russian Orthodoxy, since they are the two religious groups of most concern to my target audience. I think teaching the history of how Russian Orthodoxy and Moravianism came to the region could be helpful and could keep students engaged. These villages still live in primarily an oral culture, and it might be of interest for us to compare what their parents and grandparents have told them about how Orthodoxy and Moravianism came to the region with what book historians say.

Another thing that I think I’d like to do, if this focus on the two dominant groups isn’t considered to be too narrow, would be to compare Orthodox and Moravian beliefs and practices in the region to those practiced in other parts of the world. The goal of this exercise would be to help students understand that much of their religious tradition is strictly local, and that even things like the Moravian-language fiddle hymns or the Russian Orthodox practice of “starring” at Christmas are unique cultural expressions that don’t exist elsewhere in their broader religious community.

As for something that I might ask the kids to do, it might be to do some “compare and contrast” in groups, maybe showing videos and pictures of Orthodox services and Moravian services from different parts of the world and asking students to identify elements that struck them as different. Then we might discuss what the differences might mean.

Perhaps in order to make it more broadly relevant, I might lump Moravians in with “Protestants” generally. This would increase the diversity of the worship expressions, symbols, etc. that I could introduce.

On the whole, I’m only moderately enthusiastic about this topic, so I’d be very willing to adjust it or scrap it altogether if that’s what the group decides. I’d also appreciate help on a good “essential question,” as well. And if anyone has any advice on a better project for the kids to do, that might be cool as well. I had thought that potentially having them map all of the villages of the region by religion in Google Maps might be interesting as well. That would provide an interesting visual for who is where in the area. In any event, thanks in advance for the advice and help!

Snow Goggles and Changing Technology

I am using this image of a stone figure with “snow goggles” to lead off a short reflection on changing technologies in North and West Alaska. Obviously, this figure is purely decorative, but it represents a real-life scenario/issue in the lives of Yup’ik and Inupiaq Alaskan Natives as well as in the lives of all modern-day inhabitants of these regions. Due to the snowy nature of the northern landscape throughout much of the year, the unusual angles at which sunlight approaches the poles, and the long exposure of hunters to direct sunlight in the Arctic and immediate sub-Arctic, the Yup’ik and Inupiaq cultures developed “snow goggles” as a means of defense against “snow blindness.” Here are some examples of Alaskan Native snow goggles:

Snow blindness is a potentially serious medical condition known in medical speak as “photokeratitis.” Essentially it means “sunburned eyes.” While snow blindness can be immediately painful and cause a temporary loss of some visual functions, the long-termed threat of prolonged UV damage to the cornea is no less than absolute and incurable blindness. Custom “snow goggles” are therefore essential for Alaskans who travel outdoors and who wish to protect their eyes. Traditional native “snow goggles” restricted UV flow to the eyes by making either a small slit or tiny holes in a piece of wood or bone which was custom fitted to the face of the person who would wear it.

Since the arrival of American settlers, a new technology has been introduced in the region: sunglasses. An early example can be seen here:

Specially created to lessen the UV intensity of light, modern sunglasses have been adopted by many in the Yup’ik and Inupiaq communities for use in hunting, travel, etc. However, for reasons primarily of cost and access to cash money, the older style “snow goggles” continue to be made and used in the Alaskan West and North. Thus, like certain other traditional native technologies, they continue to exist and be used alongside the technologies of the Western world.

The essential difference between snow goggles and sunglasses is that snow goggles change the quantity of light that reaches the eye, whereas sunglasses change its quality by filtering out UV rays. Like the antique sunglasses shown in the above picture, most sunglasses used in the Arctic and immediate sub-Arctic for hunting come equipped with “blinders” on the sides that prevent UV rays from getting to the eyes around the lenses of the glasses themselves. Such glasses are sometimes called “glacier glasses” or “glacier goggles.”

In everyday life, many inhabitants of Northern and Western Alaska have adopted glasses with “transitions” lenses for short journeys outside or travelling between houses. It is only for longer distance journeys that snow goggles or glacier glasses will be used.

All images of artifacts in this post were produced courtesy of Alaska State Museum – Juneau.

A Comment Worthy of Reflection

When our class hosted the three Tlingit elders this afternoon, one particular comment by Elder Selina Everson really struck me as worth thinking about. She made a comment about the Presbyterian missionaries that ran something like, “they thought that what they were doing was good, that they were helping us.” And, in context, this “help” that she spoke of was primarily about bringing in Protestant Christianity, Western culture, and the English language. Of the three, she really only deeply addressed the last of these in her talk.

However, it was clear, in her later-life analysis, that the missionaries attempt to suppress Tlingit as a language had left a deep, lasting, and painful wound in her soul. Of course, it was about more than simply the destruction of language, it was about the intentional attempt to destroy a way of life through education. By her account (and by mine), the suppression of Tlingit was wrong and evil, however good the intentions of the missionary teachers may have been.

But this, I think, should give us pause, when we think about going out to teach. All of us have agendas. All of us have axes to grind. All of us have ways that we wish the world were different. And part of the way we’re going to try to make the world different, to “make a difference,” is through our work as teachers. But what if, in spite of our all good intentions, we actually end up doing serious harm to the communities and students we serve?

I think one of the things I will take away from the presentation of the Tlingit Elders is that we need to be very circumspect. The task of teaching is noble and worthwhile, but we need to be very thoughtful (even philosophical) about what we’re doing. The Presbyterian teachers surely felt that they were enacting “progressive social change” in Native communities by attempting to assimilate them to broader American culture. They could potentially talk about all sorts of things like greater access to education, higher standards of living, greater access to technology, etc. that could all be achieved if only the Natives would embrace English as their language and a Western style of life.

I think one of the greatest problems with what was done to the Tlingit is that the suppression of their language was not voluntary or the result of a gradual, natural social process. Instead, it was something imposed on them from without. We should understand, as future public school educators, that what we are about to undertake is not a matter of individual parental or community volition; schooling is mandatory in the United States and parents will be punished severely if they don’t buy in. This puts teachers and school officials in a position of serious social power, and this power can be used for great good or great ill. If we’re not careful and circumspect, we can inflict serious harm on those we intend to help.

A Home In Transition

For This Reason – Created with Haiku Deck, presentation software that inspires;

In this haikudeck, I am trying to get across that my home is changing. Up to and including the frog picture, all of the pictures are from Pennsylvania. After the frog picture, all of the pictures are for Alaska. The reference from Genesis of course has to do with my upcoming marriage, which is the reason that I am changing my home. The frog is Pennsylvanian, like me, and relates to fairy tales about frogs being kissed and becoming princes. (I can only hope that this will be the case for me as well.) I met him at a point of transition in my life, so I thought he’d make a nice point of transition in this presentation.

On another, more personal note, I took the first picture in the collection for my mom on her birthday in 2012 while I was working in the natural gas industry. All of the Pennsylvanian pictures after that first picture were taken around that time as “romantic messages” for a former girlfriend. After the frog picture, all of the flowers, from my “new home,” Alaska, are for my wife-to-be. But in truth, I think they are all for her and they were always all for her.

The movement of the piece from mother to failed attempt at relationship to wife is meant to reflect the scripture verse as well.

I see this program as having some serious potential use where I will be student teaching in Napaskiak. Many high school students in that village struggle mightily with English language skills and are (quite frankly) presently unable to come anywhere close to composing formal academic essays. However, the whole body of students are, as a group, quite comfortable with the use of images and can be quite clever with subtle and expressive artistic forms such riddles or dance. I think that haikudeck would be a natural way to encourage students to tell stories or express themselves artistically. I might also think about tying it to local photography and (for example) ask students to create a visual presentation of local history based on photographs that they are presently taking.