Native tongue

Thu Apr 24 17:14:22 UTC 2003

Native tongue [CONTINUED]

While support has been strong for Yup'ik instruction in schools, that
support may be waning

By JOEL GAY
Anchorage Daily News
April 20, 2003

ENGLISH CALLED ESSENTIAL

A commanding woman who owns a gift shop near Bethel's airport, Crow didn't

learn English until she was 12, when her family moved from the tiny
village of Nunapitchuk to Kasigluk, which had a Bureau of Indian Affairs

school. Even now, at 61, she said, "I'm having a helluva time." It takes

three or four readings to comprehend her School Board meeting packets, she

said. "I don't want the kids to go through what I'm going through."

Crow wants Yup'ik to survive, she said, but it doesn't belong in school.

"English is the basic tool to earn money. Some people say our (Native)
people should take over the jobs" available in the Bush, such as pilots,

teachers, principals and nurses. "But they can't take over the jobs
without going to college," for which English, not Yup'ik, is essential,
Crow said.

She scoffs at the idea that parents don't have time to teach their
children Yup'ik at home.

"If you believe in your language, turn off the TV, put away the Nintendo,

talk to your kids in your Native tongue. That's the only way it's going to

stay alive," she said.

Though Crow is in the minority on the Lower Kuskokwim School Board, some

Delta parents believe she's right. The coastal village of Nightmute had
been among the villages where primary classes were taught in Yup'ik.
Several years ago parents voted to switch to English.

"A majority of people in Nightmute speak Yup'ik at home, with their kids,"

said Sandra Tulik, an aide at the school and lifelong resident. "They
figured that since they're speaking Yup'ik at home, they wanted to start

earlier in English."

Nightmute School still provides an hour a day of Yup'ik instruction for
every student from kindergarten through 12th grade. It improves their oral

and written skills in their native tongue, principal Kathleen Bohach said.

Though she arrived in Nightmute after the village adopted the English
primary-grade curriculum, Bohach said she understands parents' choice.

"Our feet are being held to the fire" by high-stakes standardized tests
and the mandates of the No Child Left Behind Act, she said. Nobody wants

his or her school taken over by the state.

Most Delta villages, however, have chosen Yup'ik for their primary-school

students. The Delta has a long history of fighting to keep Yup'ik
tradition and sovereignty alive, and for many residents the Native
language instruction is an act of political expression and cultural renewal.

Others see more practical reasons for teaching Yup'ik in school and
leaving English for home study. Nicholai, the teacher who grew up in
Napaskiak, agrees that times are changing and that a cash economy is
supplanting the Delta's traditional hunting and gathering lifestyle.

Precisely because she and her husband work regular jobs, she said, "I
don't have time at home to teach the alphabet, the phonics, in Yup'ik." It

makes more sense to practice English at home, Nicholai said, because
English-language workbooks and learning materials are readily available.

'ENGLISH ISN'T THE ONLY ISSUE'

Determining how best to serve Yup'ik-speaking students would be easy if
there were a direct link between test scores and first-language programs.

But there's not, said Bev Williams, the Lower Kuskokwim district's
director of academic programs. Benchmark test scores last year showed no

improvement at 17 of the district's 27 schools, some of which teach in
Yup'ik in the primary years and some where English is the first language.

Test scores rise and fall for a variety of reasons, Williams said.
"English isn't the only issue."

Whether the school is in Kwethluk, Ketchikan or Kenai, attendance is a
major factor in student success, Williams said, and parental involvement

in a child's education is crucial. Staff turnover, which is a chronic
problem at some rural schools, can affect academic progress, as can
overcrowding, dilapidated facilities and a stable home life. Rural Alaska

schools have their share of problems, Williams said, but, she added, "the

schools can't be answerable for dealing with all the social problems and

the educational problems."

While student success varies widely throughout the Delta, one constant
remains, said Ferguson, the superintendent.

"Parents' number-one priority is fluency in both languages so they can be

a success in both worlds," he said. Parents in Bethel embraced that view

when they lobbied the district for another language program. At Ayaprun
Immersion School, English-speaking students study in Yup'ik-only classes.

It's challenging for the students, who come to school speaking little or

no Yup'ik, said co-principal Agatha John-Shield. "Our (Yup'ik) parents say

that even if you don't understand (the words), eventually you'll get it."

John-Shield, who grew up in Toksook Bay and married a black man , said
Bethel parents wanted a school to provide what many homes could not:
Yup'ik instruction. The city of nearly 6,000 people is the melting pot of

the Yukon-Kuskokwim Delta. Almost 70 percent of the population is all or

part Alaska Native, with the remainder a mix of Euro-, Asian- and
African-American. Ayaprun reflects Bethel's diversity and its Yup'ik
roots, she said.

"Some of our parents don't speak the language because their parents were

punished for speaking it" in school years ago, she said. "So we're going

back, giving (Yup'ik) back to the parents through the school."

It hasn't been easy, John-Shield added. "One of our parents said recently

that if we were some type of species, the federal government would be
trying to keep us alive. Our language is endangered," she said.

Some people in Bethel believe Ayaprun is trying to teach "the old ways,"

John-Shield said, "that a kayak is better than a skiff and outboard. We're

not trying to go way back. We're just integrating the two, to make a
balance between both worlds."

But achieving that balance is becoming more difficult yet increasingly
important, Ferguson said. When he arrived on the Delta 35 years ago,
parents and grandparents speaking in Yup'ik were the source of information

and entertainment. Now television and the Internet fill young minds with

stories and words.

"Most kids don't hear Yup'ik at home," Ferguson said. "Until that changes,

Yup'ik culture will be a dying culture. It has to come from the home.
School systems can help sustain it. But we can't keep it alive without
their help."

>-- Original Message --
>Date:         Tue, 22 Apr 2003 13:16:19 -0400
>Reply-To: phil cash cash <pasxapu at DAKOTACOM.NET>
>From: phil cash cash <pasxapu at DAKOTACOM.NET>
>Subject: Native tongue
>To: ILAT at listserv.arizona.edu
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>The following adn.com article was sent by:
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>    phil cash cash (pasxapu at dakotacom.net)
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>---------------------------------------------------------------
>
>Native tongue
>While support has been strong for Yup'ik instruction  in schools,  that
support
>may  be waning
>
>By JOEL GAY, Anchorage Daily News
>
>Published: April 20, 2003
>
>NAPASKIAK -- The first-grade classroom at Z. John Williams
>School could be anywhere in America. Pint-size wooden chairs
>and knee-high tables, plastic bins of crayons, walls plastered
>with colorful posters and strings of alphabet letters.
>
>But in Christine Samuelson's room, the alphabet is only 18
>letters long and A doesn't stand for apple. A is for angqaq,
>C means cauyaq and E is for ena.
>
>Samuelson teaches in Yup'ik, the mother tongue of the Eskimos
>who have inhabited the Yukon-Kuskokwim Delta for thousands
>of years.
>
>You can read the full story online at:
>
>http://www.adn.com/front/story/2975432p-3009186c.html
>
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