KOTZEBUE WAS THE WORLD TO ME

Kotzebue is quite small as cities go, with roughly 3000 residents. There aren't any roads that connect it to urban areas like Fairbanks or Anchorage; it is only accessible by jet/plane all-year round. Some people travel to and from nearby villages by snowmachine in the winter and four-wheelers (ATV’S) in the summer. Those with boats may travel in the summer as well. It is located on a gravel spit and its Inupiaq name, Kikiktugruk, means “almost an island.”

When I was little, Kotzebue was the world to me. Our whole support system lived there: my maternal grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. I belonged to the first generation of grandchildren; all together, we were eleven. We were close and spent a lot of time together and fought like sisters and brothers. With so many cousins, I was never short of friends.

The first grandchildren. I am first row, first one on the left.

It seemed that there were an infinite number of places to play in Kotzebue. I remember walking and playing around town with my cousins, at times filled with a sense of wonder and discovery. I don’t remember ever feeling out of place there; I didn’t have a distinct feeling of being “Eskimo” or “Native.” It wasn’t until we moved outside that I had that distinct feeling of being “Eskimo.” 

 

I think that a lot of people from the village have a hard time adjusting to urban life for these very reasons. When you leave, you are leaving familiar surroundings, your support system and everything you ever knew.  You are no longer with people like yourself; instead, you belong to the minority. 

So how do you make a successful transition to urban life? How do you adjust? For me personally, adjusting meant dealing with homesickness head on.

WHY I DON'T LIKE THE WORD "ESKIMO"

So a mini-essay on why I do not like the word “Eskimo.” I understand why a lot of people from my community use it and I know that some people would say that they’ve appropriated the word and made it their own. I get it. It is not unlike other Indigenous people using Indian to self-identify. But my first response to the question “Why don’t you like using the word ‘Eskimo’?” would be, “Well, what is wrong with using Inupiaq to self-identify?”

My other response is a little more complex. To me, “Eskimo” is not a real person. It is an image, a stereotype, and as of lately, it is even a Halloween costume. People may not know what you’re talking about when you say Inupiaq, but say “Eskimo” instead and more often than not, they think of primitive Eskimos in fur parkas and mukluks who live in igloos and have a million different words for snow. Sorry folks, not my reality.

But it is more than simply a stereotype. I read a book awhile back entitled Give Me My Father’s Body, which chronicled the experiences of a young Greenland Inuit boy named Minik who was taken to New York by Robert Peary, an American explorer. Peary brought approximately 6 Inuit to New York as “specimens” to display at American Museum of Natural History. I remember seeing one photograph in which Minik was on display holding an “Eskimo” sign. I found that particular image jarring and upsetting (I will post the image as soon as I dig out the book from storage).

While Minik was from Greenland, it is that attitude people have towards the “Eskimo” that upsets me.  “Eskimo” is something to be on display in the museum, it is to be studied in the name of science. “Eskimo” is the dehumanized version of an Inupiaq person. Granted that Minik’s case took place in the late 1800s, I think some of that legacy carries on today.

I know that when people say “Eskimo” they may not necessarily have this in mind, but again, what is so wrong with self-identifying as Inupiaq?

ON BEING INUPIAQ IN THE 21ST CENTURY

I am very new to the whole blogging scene so I’ve been looking at various blogs for ideas and inspiration. One friend recommended “Being Ohlone in the 21^st Century.” After viewing that blog I asked myself a question: What does it mean to be Inupiaq in the 21^st century?
 

This is a particularly difficult question to answer because it means confronting reality.

My reality as an Inupiaq woman in the 21^st century is similar to other Indigenous people’s reality. It means that I speak English as my first language. I have a Western education and much of our traditional ways have been replaced by Western ways. Our food consists of mostly a Western diet: readily available foods that include processed foods, fast food, and junk food (and I know a lot of junk food junkies). In short, I am a product of colonization.

COLONIZATION

What does colonization mean anyway? I like one particular definition found in “For Indigenous Eyes Only: A Decolonization Handbook” so I’m going to quote it here. Colonization is the “formal and informal methods (behaviors, ideologies, institutions, policies, and economies) that maintain the subjugation or exploitation of Indigenous peoples, lands and resources.” I often see other people discussing colonization and decolonization without really defining what they mean. I am all for definitions because a) I like words and their definitions b) as my undergrad History advisor told us numerous times, do not assume knowledge on part of the reader c) they provide a common language for everyone, which makes it easier to have a dialogue.

Confronting reality doesn’t necessarily mean accepting it and forever being victimized. It means acknowledging it and actively trying to change it.

IGLAAQ - TRAVELER

“THE GREAT PEOPLE…”

I made a big stink about terms and preferring “Inupiaq” above everything else. I don’t speak Inupiaq but I know that we refer to different groups of people with certain words. For example, Naluaqmiu is the Inupiaq word for white person. Itqialaq is the Inupiaq word for Indian. I’ve often wondered, what is the direct translation for Inupiaq?  I wonder what it means because it can provide some insight into how we view ourselves as a people and our place in this world. As it turns it out, it literally means “the Great People.” Really? Not really, I’m just kidding. But I am on a mission to find out what it means so more on this later.

IGLAAQ - THE TRAVELER

Why did I choose the Inupiaq word “Iglaaq” as my blog title? It means traveler, newly arrived guest, stranger, etc. I was perusing Inupiaq words and phrases in search of a clever and interesting title and considered using “Aigaksiruna – I’m going home.” But for the first part of my blog I decided to use Iglaaq because that is how I’ve felt at times, a traveler, stranger. First, a stranger in the outside world and second, a stranger, a guest, in Kotzebue.

A traveler is a person who travels to foreign, distant lands. While the traveler is a stranger in foreign lands, that person still has a base, a home country. At times I felt like I didn’t belong anywhere. I wasn’t raised at home and I didn’t fit into the dominant culture. It is a strange paradox because although Kotzebue was always home, there were times when I couldn’t help but feel like a visitor, a guest.

I find that as my identity as an Inupiaq woman gets stronger, the less I feel like a traveler or stranger. 

INTRODUCTIONS

Welcome to my igloo!* My Inupiaq name is Iyiyyaq and I was born in Kotzebue, AK. I grew up in the city though and after living away from home for 22 years, I have recently begun working in Kotzebue. As an Inupiaq raised in the city, I have often struggled with my identity. In fact, my identity as an Inupiaq woman has often been challenged by both Native and non-Native people alike.

Going back home has strengthened my identity in many ways and challenged it in others. That said, this blog is an expression of myself and my experiences. While it is personal, I think that many of you can relate in several ways, especially when it comes to identity. So join me as I discuss everything under the Midnight Sun, from language to culture to whatever.

*Disclaimer: I do not live in an igloo nor have I ever. We do not live in igloos at all and to ask or suggest that we do is just downright silly if not misguided. 

THE BASICS

Outsiders often ask me about Kotzebue, so a little about Kotzebue: it is a city located in the Arctic Northwest, 33 miles above the Arctic Circle. It is a coastal city and local hub of the Northwest Region. It is called Kotzebue because Otto Von Kotzebue “discovered” it in 1818.  And as American history goes, Europeans were quite fond of “discovering” things that were already there. In Inupiaq, it is known as Kikiktagruk.

Kotzebue Front Street, mid-summer.

Of course, all this you can Google without me telling you, so what can I tell you about it that you don’t already know? Kotzebue is quite trashy, meaning there is junk and garbage all around town. But it is very beautiful, if you know how to look. It overlooks the ocean and has some fantastic colors in the winter. It was and always will be home to me.

WHO AM I?

Ah yes, the age-old philosophical question. I am Inupiaq, not “Eskimo.” I am guilty of using “Eskimo” at times (within certain contexts) but I cringe inside whenever I hear or say it. It is still commonly used in Kotzebue and the Northwest Region. People use the word interchangeably with Inupiaq. Examples: “Mmmm, I really love Eskimo food,” or “Do you know how to Eskimo dance?” I’ve even heard people say “I don’t know how to speak Eskimo.” Ugh! I often get frustrated because I am torn between wanting to voice my opposition at using the word and not alienating anyone. There are conflicting views on the origin of the word and I won’t go into detail on that. However, I will note that the term is pejorative and it is not how I identify myself.

Throughout this blog I will attempt to use “Inupiaq” whenever possible. Generally speaking, I belong to the groups of “Alaska Native,” and in very broad terms (if you really must), "Native American." Other than Inupiaq, I prefer “Indigenous.”

There are other common terms that a lot people use, including “Native.” I use the term in some instances but try to stay away from it. It too has negative connotations. I still use “Alaska Native” though and that seems to be neutral enough, at least for the time being. Some people refer to us as “Indian” which is inaccurate. While Alaska Natives share many of the same experiences as Indigenous peoples of the Lower 48, many Inupiat do not self-identify as “Indians.”

I was born in a rural town but I am also urbanized. When I was 8 we moved from Kotzebue to Westmont, Ill (a suburb of Chicago). I know right? What a culture shock! And from there we moved to Anchorage, AK.

My city upbringing must be very evident because I’ve gotten several comments about my accent and mannerisms. I’ve been told that I “talk like a white person” or that it is obvious that I wasn’t raised in Kotzebue. I don’t take much offense because I also notice the differences between myself and others raised in the village. This is who I am and I don’t make any apologies.