Chickaloon tribe has new classroom to continue 'ancient teachings' (fwd)

[phil cash cash]

Chickaloon tribe has new classroom to continue 'ancient teachings'

Rooted

By S.J. KOMARNITSKY
Anchorage Daily News
Published: May 11th, 2005
http://www.adn.com/news/alaska/matsu/story/6477935p-6358203c.html

SUTTON -- The tiny Ya Ne Dah Ah School of Chickaloon put itself on the
map in 2002 when Harvard University selected it as one of eight
outstanding tribal programs in the country and awarded the school a
$10,000 grant.
Last week, the school marked another milestone by moving out of a
cramped portable-size building without running water, used for the past
six years, and into a new 2,400-square-foot school with flush toilets
and a kitchen.
It was a big move for the small school, which despite the national
recognition has struggled to keep its doors open at times during its 13
years.

The event was celebrated with a private ceremony and a public grand
opening. But the school's real success is the tribe's commitment to the
school and focus on using it to revitalize Chickaloon's Athabascan
culture, according to parents and administrators.

"If we're not doing that, then there's no reason to do (the school),"
said Kari Johns, education director for Ya Ne Dah Ah.

The Chickaloon tribe, with headquarters near Sutton, is small, with only
about 200 members. But it's a vocal advocate for tribal sovereignty and
in recent years has capitalized on its tribal status to leverage grants
and other money to fund multiple projects in the Sutton area, including
a new health clinic and an ongoing effort to restore salmon runs in a
nearby Moose Creek.

The $150,000 needed for the new school was raised through a combination
of individual donations and loans from private organizations, Johns
said. The school's roughly $150,000 annual operating cost is also
funded through grants and private donations, Johns said.

Tribe matriarch Katie Wade started the school in 1992 as a way to pass
on Athabascan ways and beliefs to the younger generation, Johns said.
Ya Ne Dah Ah means "ancient teachings" in Ahtna Athabascan, the dialect
spoken by the Chickaloon tribe.

While it's called a school, Ya Ne Dah Ah is not officially recognized as
such by any federal or state agency. The students are considered home
schooled, which gives the school flexibility in what is taught, Johns
said.

Students learn basics, such as math and science, and take state
standardized tests, but drumming, singing, basket weaving and learning
the Ahtna Athabascan language are all part of the curriculum.

The students also participate in the Ya Ne Dah Ah dance group, which has
performed all over the state, most recently at the University of Alaska
Anchorage, Johns said.

It's easy to see the appeal of the school. The classes, or rather,
class, is tiny. The eight students, in first through eighth grade,
share a single room.

There are no bells signaling the end of a period. Instead, the lessons
flow from one to the next.

On a recent morning, teacher Sondra Stuart, whose three sons attend the
school, led the students through an exercise on the Ahtna Athabascan
language using a computer program designed by the tribe.

She also had them play charades in Athabascan and do stretching
exercises counting in Athabascan. For recess, she led the children
outside to play traditional Athabascan games, including the seal hop,
in which students hop while lying on the ground resting only on their
toes and knuckles of their hands, and a limbo-like exercise that
involves holding a long pole diagonally across one's body and bending
underneath without moving the pole.

An Athabascan elder from Tazlina -- one of many visitors to the school
-- taught the children the latter game, Stuart said.

Exercise is a big part of the school, and even in winter the students
have to go outside and run. Katie Wade has insisted on it, Stuart said.
Wade also requires that students sometimes run with water in their
mouths, then spit it out at the end to show they didn't swallow it as a
way to teach mental toughness, Stuart said.

The students seem to respond to the teaching style even if at times they
don't seem to be paying attention.

During the morning language exercise, two students sat on top of their
desks, while another, a young girl, twirled a pink shirt in front of
her. But even though they seemed distracted, the students quickly
answered when called on by Stuart, pronouncing tongue twisters like
kuggaedi -- Ahtna Athabascan for mosquito --with ease.

While most students are tribal members, the school is open to anyone --
Native or non-Native -- willing to pay the $50 tuition fee and meet
requirements for volunteering in the school, Johns said.

The philosophy is to teach anyone who is interested in the culture, she
said.

Brian Hirsch, a non-Native who has worked for the tribe, said he brought
his daughter Aviva, now 11, to the school four years ago when he moved
to Palmer.

He has since moved to Homer, but he liked the school's unique approach
to learning from starting the day with a prayer to teaching respect for
others, especially elders.

"There's not many places where students for lunch would walk to an
elder's house for a bowl of moose stew," he said.

Hirsch was also pleased with the academics, noting his daughter recently
scored in the 90th percentile on the standardized state tests.
While visitors typically concentrate on the school's more visible
differences, such as teaching birch-bark basket weaving, Johns said the
emphasis on Athabascan values, such as respecting elders, is important
to her.

Johns, whose father is Athabascan, said she missed those values
attending public schools on the Kenai Peninsula. She also felt lost
growing up because she knew she was different from non-Natives but knew
little about her heritage, she said. She hopes the same will not be true
for her two children, who are enrolled in Ya Ne Dah Ah.

"That's the greatest gift, to know where they came from," she said.
Johns said the tribe hopes to expand the school, possibly adding a
gymnasium. But for now the focus is on raising $5 million for an
endowment to provide a stable funding source for the school's
operation.

Reporter S.J. Komarnitsky can be reached at skomarnitsky at adn.com or
352-6714.