wan·der·lust

From reporting in Wrangell to teaching in Tanzania and Bhutan to, now, transitioning to life in the capital city of Juneau – some words on a life in flux.

07 December 2014

Hug a Reporter

When I moved to Wrangell in 2005, I walked into the unknown. I was, 1 - living in Alaska, and 2 - making a living as a reporter. The list of new experiences could go on, but I knew at the time that being a reporter was the best way I could’ve started navigating life in rural Alaska. My job was to meet people and inject myself in various parts of town. Is there a better way to get to know a new place and its people? While I did make a life for myself in Wrangell outside of reporting, I owe it all to the foundation I built doing my job. The relationships I made as a reporter were as valuable to me as the ones I made based on friendship.

It hasn’t necessarily been the same experience in Juneau, mainly due to size. I still do value the contacts and sources I’ve made here, but everything seems on a thinner scale. I am one of many reporters people in Juneau come across and while I try to cover a lot of topics, I cannot get to them all so there are issues and people of this town I will never know.

This past week, though, something happened.

I won’t get into all the details of the issue but basically there was a group of the community challenging materials of the new elementary language arts curriculum — four supplemental readers that depicted Native American and Alaska Native experiences, like the Trail of Tears, Native boarding schools, and the excavation of Native burial grounds. The readers were very poorly written (by a white woman) and didn’t realistically portray the horror or seriousness of those tragedies, some of which are very near to Juneau. Many in Juneau’s Native and non-Native community spoke out against the materials and an expert’s report called for them to be removed from the classroom. There are a lot of periphery issues involved, like how the curriculum was chosen in the first place or why the district purchased it amidst huge budget cuts.

The issue of the challenged readers came down to the superintendent. He would decide if the materials stayed or went. I had done two stories leading up to the big decision and been in touch with various leaders in the Native community. One of them was Freda Westman, president of the Alaska Native Sisterhood. I was trying to be positive with her, saying everything the superintendent had said led me to believe he would make the right decision, but she wasn't convinced. Neither was I. I secretly thought he’d make the wrong decision and enrage the Native community.

To many people’s surprise, the superintendent announced the challenged readers would be removed. He actually read a very appropriate speech about his decision that was emotional and forward looking. Afterward, I interviewed some people for reaction and didn’t get to Freda until the end. During our short interview, she actually started crying, saying she’s being fighting these battles for 40 years. I was both touched by her emotion and elated. Tears make great radio. She found her composure again and spoke for several more minutes. When we were done, I thanked her. She embraced me and said, “I don’t usually hug reporters.”

So many interviews and interactions are purely about getting the information I need when I need it. There are sources I love and sources I would rather not call. Freda was a great interview and gave me great tape, but she did something so much more important. She broke down the wall of our titles and positions and hugged me. I have no idea when that will ever happen again.