Idea

Intended audience?

West Coast Alaska, Middle School

About how much class time to do this lesson?

About 2 class periods of 45 minutes, with priming, teaching stories/musical techniques

What’s the essential question? (is there one)

Still thinking….

What source material would students use (include a link or example).

Yup’k stories and storytellers (Youtube, visits from elders). Examples of what it means to create a soundscape from various films.

Some examples:

A Tale of Two Fireballs in Yup’ik Storytelling

A brief explanation of “what are the kids going to do?”

Students will work cooperatively to produce a soundscape with instruments available in the classroom. The goal is to create a soundtrack a traditional Yup’ik story. Students will work in small groups each in charge of a particular of scene or part of the story. This lesson could also incorporate the skills they develop from Andrew’s lesson on recording technology to record the story with their soundscape. Storytelling, especially scary stories, is a really big part of Yup’ik culture and it is also very engaging for Middle School aged students.

An Artifact: chivtux “grass basket”

An Artifact: chivtux “grass basket”

“The grass proved difficult to work with, but the weavers persisted” (1).

chivtux “grass basket”
Language: Unangam Tunuu (Attuan dialect)
Courtesy of: Alaska State Museum – Juneau

I cannot peel my eyes away from the Aluet Basketry collection at the Alaska State Museum. One basket that particularly stands out is a hand woven grass basket in the Attu style. There are three distinct types of Aleut Basketry that come from Atka Island, Unalaska Island and Attu Island.

The basket that catches my eye is not finished; strands of the most delicate grass splay in all directions and I cannot stop thinking about the woman who took the time to weave 1050 stitches per square inch. Each blade of grass for this basket was gathered in the summer on coastal hillsides; not too close to the the ocean or it would be too coarse and not too far away or the grass would be too brittle. The weaver then bundles, ages, and sorts each individual strand, before drying and splitting every blade of grass with a fingernail or needle. Before weaving, the grasses are often coloured with berries, tea, clay, coffee, and even onion skins for yellow (2).

Young ladies weaving baskets on Attu.
Young ladies weaving baskets on Attu.

As shown in the picture from the Alaska State Library Archives, Attu baskets are held upside down during the weaving process. The weaving is done from left to right while the basket is rotated clockwise.

Attu weavers maintain a strong tension with each strand of grass to create a finer weave than other Aleut styles. In fact many Attu baskets are so tightly woven that they are able to carry water. I am drawn to so much more than just the dexterity of the stitches, and the detail of the patterns. These baskets are representative of the spirituality, and the interwoven history. They exist, like all the art I see in the Alaska State Museum, because of the artists’ perseverance.

They persisted in the 1800s when Russians entered the Aleutians with force and brutality. They persisted in the 1900s when they watched the U.S. military burn their entire village to the ground, including the cured grass that the women had prepared all summer. During WW II Attuans were forcefully relocated to an abandoned herring factory, with poor water supply, little housing and no access to subsistence hunting and fishing. Within days of arrival these determined artists began collecting grass, similar to the grass that grew in  on Attu Island, and they began weaving.

 

 An Attu Elder weaving a basket. Source: UAF, Murie Family Papers (3)
An Attu Elder weaving a basket. Source: UAF, Murie Family Papers

Weaving is a deeply embedded part of life for the Attuan people. Babies sleep in woven cradles, and warriors wore woven belts that offered protection. Women wove clothing, mats, bedding and even sheets to separate rooms in their homes. Even the sun sleeps on a grass mat, while the moon (an important uncle) travels across the night sky.

 

Sources:

  1. Alaska State Museum – Juneau
  2. Alaska Native Collections
  3. UAF, Murie Family Papers

One World


David began to softly strike his Tlingit drum and a low wave of sound hushed us to silence. While listening to the words and songs of elder/educators Linda, Selina and David I felt overwhelmingly thankful and honoured to hear their stories and advice. Each of the three speakers had a unique voice filled with great amounts of experience, knowledge and passion, yet all three had this humble but powerful presence. They had a way of reaching us new educators by making connections.

I think that is what resonated with me the most; the connectivity. The heartbreaking image of Selina’s older siblings jumping in the air off school grounds, so that they may speak a single word in their own language is connected to David’s description of a people being starving. The images that these stories brought to me just made my heart hurt, and I felt tears stinging my eyes. I do not ever want my family, friends, students, peers, colleagues or anyone to feel that empty void in their lives. Yet, I still see it, that feeling of emptiness…in my students eyes when a school system fails to connect them to their cultural roots. I am committed to doing something about that empty feeling.

Linda gave us a strategy by describing a circle, which I doodled here:

IMG_0170 (1)

She she instructed us to think of ourselves on one side and others on the other side. By connecting the sides with arrows the image teaches us an important lesson: we can only control what we give and how we receive what is given to us. This is not only an important strategy to relieve stress, but is also a reminder as to the importance of how we give and receive. What does this mean to me as a teacher? It speaks to me about really thinking about how I communicate with students, parents and the community. It also means really listening and educating myself in my student’s lives so that I can make these necessary connections.

As David reminds us, everything is connected. Being a human is all about the connections we make. Moreover, as humans we crave connections. The youngest of our society deserve to feel these connections; to know that they are cared for and loved. As a new teacher with so much to learn, and so many more mistakes to make, I am so grateful for the reminder of one mistake that I must never make: I must never forget to love my students.

I am from

Learning to use Haiku Deck:


I am From… – Created with Haiku Deck, presentation software that inspires;

Here are my reflections from the experience:

Something surprising that I learned from this activity is that the use of technology can be a very touching and emotional process. Somehow the juxtaposition of my childhood memories and current life seems to fit into the simple format of Haiku Deck. I can see how the use of Haiku Deck could be both practical and relevant with students, especially because it is so visual. Since the process is very simplified, the student spends more time focusing on their poetry than choosing a fancy font. Next year I will be in an elementary music position and I look forward to integrating technology into all of my music classes. I particularly resonated with the discussion about the “flipped classroom,” because the use technology, in appropriate situations, is an important part of teaching more effectively so that we can spend more time on the important stuff; playing music!

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