Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Finally, Chilling Out


 Yep, it's here.

When I went out last night to check on the dog, the rain had frozen to the top of the dog box.  (The dog was nowhere to be seen, having tunnelled out of the pen to go after one of the many neighborhood rabbits whose mere existence offends her.)

(At right: the scene this morning on the deck.)

Hello again, blog reading peoples!  I've been on a seasonally induced hiatus (read: sulk) since, oh, shortly after the likelihood that the Goldstream was going to go up in flames was still pretty high.  Oh, I was thrilled for that rain that slowed all the fire down, but it was the turning point this year.  Suddenly, it was FALL.

Fall has always been a terrible season for me.  Winter?  Cold, dark, but strangely comforting and a nice breather from running around trying to get stuff done.  Spring?  Just a leafy prelude to summer.  Summer?  Hello, months-long manic episode!  But fall? 

Usually, early in the fall, my temper gets shorter and I run about saying things like, "If this relationship doesn't work out, I'm never living with anyone ever again!"  At which point, my friends remind me that I say that EVERY year.  So far, I've veered between unhealthy doses of pop music, homemade peartinis, a return to working out, and replaying Half Life 2 on the hardest setting.

The political situation has not helped.  Part of my silence has been due to near toxic levels of annoyance with the vast amounts of stupidity one can witness by simply watching the news.  The Anchorage ordinance thingey, 'death panels', idiots carrying guns to town hall meetings ... I have been stunned into annoyed silence. 

The arrival of cold, fresh air seems to be helping.  Thanks to Flic for carrying this thing while I've been off sullking like a two year old.  

Monday, September 14, 2009

The Mask of Ignorance (Part 2)

Had the new city police chief – Laren Zager – hailed from parts Outside perhaps he could be forgiven some of the ignorance he apparently possesses regarding Interior Alaska Natives and villages. In fact, if he had lived and worked only in Anchorage, it might even make a tad bit of sense. But police chief Zager has spent 20 years in Fairbanks.

Of course, there are lots of people born and raised in Fairbanks that haven’t a clue about that portion of our Interior’s population who come from a totally different culture and race. True, Interior Alaska Natives (like all Alaska Native and Native American groups) may be demographically small in number relative to the majority population, but their rates of incarceration, suicide and violence perpetrated against them by members of the non-Native population (especially by non-Native men against Native women) are disproportionately high. Much of this is tied to their perpetually lower socio-economic status. Disenfranchised as they are*, Natives lack the political and economic power to substantively impact the racism and prejudices that make them more likely to be victimized, rather than championed, by our western legal system.

Thus, I would argue, if you are heading up a law enforcement department that has a long (and in many minds deplorable) history of dealing with arresting Natives, some extra effort at personal education about village realities might be on order. It might also help the police chief overcome some of the banal (but dangerous) assumptions about Natives that he appears to hold.

Case in point: I return to my personal bug-a-boo of the moment, police chief Zager’s assertion that, since spring, the number of chronic inebriates downtown has doubled, if not tripled (from about 100 to as many as 300). Towards the end of the August 19 article, Zager is asked to give his opinion on why this sudden rise in chronic inebriates.

"As for what’s behind the increase in the chronic inebriate population, Zager said one theory is spring flooding along the Yukon River might have displaced many village residents who have turned to the streets of Fairbanks because of the city’s reputation as being accommodating to the homeless. "

Wow – that is jaw-dropping.

First off, no one in a village is homeless if they lose their home. Most people have several homes. These are the homes of their relatives and extended families. Even without loss of a physical structure, people tend to move around within households. Village home life is more like having different components of a “home” distributed throughout the community, than it is about one single residence that is dedicated for the specific use of an individual and their immediate family (as it is in our culture). So unlike our culture, where a misfortune can result in one being out on the streets, this is not the norm in Native culture. People are much more generous and communal about their living spaces than we tend to be on our side of the street – where the notion that one’s home is their castle is still very much alive and well, even in these times of underwater mortgages.

Natives don’t end up sleeping in cars – they end up sleeping on a relative’s couch.

So the notion that spring flooding would have resulted in droves of homeless villagers moving to Fairbanks to live on the streets is just – well – ridiculous.

Secondly, this so-called theory completely ignores the possibility that maybe, just maybe, Natives live in a contextual sphere that is totally different than ours. Westerners’ sense of place is tied to physical possession, chiefly embodied by our house/property. Thus, for us, the loss of a house does open up the possibility of relocation, especially for young single men.

However, the flaw in application here is the assumption that what works for western sensibilities works for Native ones. It ignores the absoluteness of connection to the country experienced by Natives. And it overlooks the fact that this connection is organically different than any bond, tie or other attachment a non-Native may have for a particular patch of land. There really are no English words that convey the essence of the Native sense of place and connection within the larger sphere of country – because in our world view this simply does not exist. And while people from the vil like to come into town to shop, go to the fair, visit and to do all of those town things that we all do, in very short order most become very homesick: for their families, for the village, for their way of life and for Native food, and most of all, for the country.

The metaphysical aside, Zager is talking collectively about a people that are supremely used to dealing with and rolling with the punches that nature can deliver. A spring flood, even one as severe as the one that just occurred this past spring, is not about to turn any villager’s life upside down, nor drive them out of the country.

Finally, Zager shouldn’t misconstrue the fact that most of these people can live very comfortably outdoors, whether in the woods or in the city, as evidence that villagers find Fairbanks “accommodating” (to homeless or others). Few Natives view Fairbanks as hospitable. Most see it as an unfriendly place filled with unfriendly people (who are always willing to take their money), as well as a place that is just outright dangerous for them.

Maybe instead of trying to shoehorn Native motives into the misfit of western thinking, Zager should think harder about what might be more likely the cause of increasing numbers of younger, angrier men drinking on the streets. Interior Natives have been experiencing and surviving spring floods for eons, but they have been dealing with the white man for a little more than 100 years.

A more plausible line of reasoning is that we are beginning to experience the full results produced by two generations of Natives who have struggled with the social, emotional and psychic impacts from contact and colonialism: the loss of language and generational disruption from boarding schools and disease, the sexual abuse by missionaries and priests, and all the other systematic attempts by the majority culture to eradiate Native language, culture and tribal structure. Post-traumatic stress syndrome, self-medication and violence born of unresolved anger over the historical trauma suffered by these men and their families are more likely drivers behind an increase in downtown alcoholics than are the spring floods.

But better for the police chief to turn to deus ex machina, in this case the mighty Yukon, than to lift the blinders of ignorance and confront the problem head on. Because to do so would require Zager, the Mayor, the council, and all of us to grapple with the fact that the alcoholism, violence and homelessness hopelessness experienced by these men are rooted in human-caused catastrophes, not acts of God. And that might mean we have a moral, ethical and spiritual obligation to acknowledge, address and attempt to make right the wrongs done.

Far better to put the solution on FEMA’s doorstep, than to look at what really is going on in the city of Fairbanks – in its police department, its treatment of Native people, and its ridiculously inadequate treatment facilities and social services resources.

* a status that is shared by other minority populations as well – such as inner city African Americans and rural poor Caucasians in Appalachia.

Friday, September 11, 2009

15 Minutes of Fame

When a copy of A Chronic Problem finally hit the vil – it generated a whole lot of interest on the vil street.

Not so much for its content – people are so totally, completely and utterly used to the News Miner publishing articles that cast Natives in a bad light – that yet another isn’t even worth the effort it takes to roll one’s eyes and say – here we go again.

Nope, what captured interest was the photo spread that accompanied the first article.

“Yo – look man – it’s your shoes!”

“And those there, those are my knees, man!”

“Ohhh, look, look there, that’s M----, see right there on the end of the bench!”

Inquiring minds might want to know how anybody could peg pants and shoes as their own – don’t many boots look alike, and how can you tell one pair of carhartts from another, for instance?

Well, because despite what the article implied, quite a few of these so-called chronic inebriates were not so blotto as to a) not be able to tell the photographer not to take their picture, at least not from the knees up, and b) not remember when the reporter/photographer came through downtown last spring.

So there they were, jocularly identifying quite a number of people in the photos that certainly are not homeless – including themselves – from the comfort of, well, their homes.

Thursday, August 27, 2009

The Mask of Racism (Part 1)

Chronic inebriates. This is what the City of Fairbanks, its police department and all the rest of the public policy makers here like to call the people with drinking problems who drink downtown (and who happen to be, 99 out of 100 times, Native). Lately there have been at least two articles in the Daily News Miner about the "chronic inebriate" problem. This is a re-occurring theme. And each time it reoccurs, I get more and more disturbed.

The last time this term cropped up was on August 19, in an article that blatted the headline: Fairbanks police step up patrols as downtown chronic inebriates increase. The nut of this story was that, under new police chief Zager, the city police are increasing their patrol unit by four in response to business owners' complaints that "a larger, younger chronic inebriate population is becoming increasingly violent."

There is so much that is so wrong with this article as well as the persistent and shrill attacks on the so-called chronic inebriates that it is hard to know where to begin. But for starters - let's look at why the City, the cops and everyone else in power in these parts uses the term "chronic inebriate" as opposed to the medically-accepted term "alcoholic"*.

These two terms are not interchangeable. If there is any organization that is up on the lingo associated with alcohol abuse, it's the National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism, part of the NIH. The term "chronic inebriate" appears nowhere on its website or in its publications. It's not used in its research papers, press releases, FAQs, publications or fact sheets.

So, what is up with the persistent use of this phrase by Fairbanks' mayor, city council, and police force? The term itself is not formally defined in medical, sociological or psychological reference books, but is understood to mean a chronic alcoholic who is homeless and drinks in public. Thus if challenged, I suspect the city and its police chief would defend their usage of the term by saying that these are homeless drunks, and thus their use of the phrase is perfectly justified, racially neutral, and transparent. No man behind the curtain here.

Except for one troubling little issue ---- very few of the people that they are labeling as chronic inebriates are homeless. They have homes; most of them in villages, some of them in Fairbanks. They may be alcoholics, even very advanced-stage alcoholics, but they are not homeless.

A majority of this pool of downtown alcoholics (to call them what they are) are cyclical. Throughout the year, they come into town and for varying lengths of time end up on Two Street or along the river. They come in for a variety of reasons: to drink legally (if from a dry village), for medical, to shop, or to visit. The fact is --- people who suffer from alcoholism, no matter how good their intentions are when they get on the Fairbanks-bound plane, are going to have a hard time resisting booze that is $11 a bottle (the current going rate for R&R) and a virtually unlimited supply when bootlegging in the vil puts alcohol at anywhere from $50 to $300 a bottle.

Furthermore, even if these drinkers are from villages, they aren't homeless when in town either. The majority of village drinkers (even those with relatives in town) stay in hotels - and not flop hotels. There are quite a few hotels downtown that are all too happy to cater to the village alcoholic (and even tolerate the impacts that go along with that) who comes over and gets stuck in town on a bender. Thus, the chronic inebriates and their relatives contribute quite a handsome sum to the hotel industry, especially during the winter off-season --- something that is never mentioned by the troubled downtown business owners.

So, this is not really a chronic inebriate problem but an alcoholism problem --- the same heartbreaking disease that strikes so very many in the non-Native population. Yet if the city officials used the term "alcoholic", they would have to acknowledge that Natives are vulnerable to the same disease as non-Natives. And in doing so, they then would have to look at the ugly fact that Natives are denied, through widespread indifference, often willful ignorance (of the problem) and an abominable lack of resources, many of the options for help and support that the majority population can secure for its members that suffer this dreadful disease.

Better to use a different term. One that does not imply disease as much as the fault of the individual. The words chronic inebriate literally translate to always-drunk: a hopeless drunk. In other words, one that chooses to exist in a persistent state of drunkenness, with a not so subtle top note of insufficient moral and character fiber to snap out of their derelict and debauched state. Its baggage is the implication that this state of being arises out of the individual's agency (blame the victim), not through the conjunction of biological predisposition, personal choice and the roll of the cosmic dice as with disease.

On the surface, city officials talking about chronic inebriates appear to be engaged in a neutral and rational discussion of a problem that is vaguely medical in nature. Look deeper and what you see is a term that is being used to mask the same racial biases and prejudices that the majority population has nurtured against Native Americans since contact. Not so ironically, it is these same prejudices and stereotypes that are responsible for the chronic low socioeconomic status that contributes to the high alcoholism rates among Natives and restricts their options for treatment and prevention.

This type of code talking serves no one well. It is time for city officials and other policy makers to address the severe alcoholism problem that plagues this region as well as the rest of the state. Contrary to what police chief Zager said in the paper --- it is about social services (and medical and behavioral health services). Alcoholics of all backgrounds and races face significant challenges if they want to go into recovery here, particularly those living in small villages. It is not about adding more police or establishing alcohol impact zones or a do-not sell list. It is about taking a hard look at the reasons why the people in power (local, regional, state and federal) do not want to allocate funds for the prevention and treatment of substance abuse, but instead prefer to fund those institutions which punish and incarcerate rather than heal.

*Doubt this? A simple google search on both the web and the FDNM site comparing the two phrases will amply demonstrate the veracity of this statement.

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

But Does It Come with a Shovel?

Appetizer and entree (r.)
Little wonder Americans are fat. Pictured above is what constitutes an appetizer at a notorious eatery somewhere down the highway between here and the Canadian border. Buried under that brick of cheese food are enough nachos, beans and chicken to feed the 1950's nuclear family of four plus the family dog. Now it's considered to be a single-serving prelude to more food to come.

Thursday, August 20, 2009

That Sound You Hear

... is the sound of the shit hitting the fan.

Seriously? The ADF&G sonar was off? AGAIN? And so some of the restrictions in place for king fishing on the Yukon might have been unnecessary? How can fisheries managers ever hope to have local people buy into the regulatory/management process if you shut them down unnecessarily? AGAIN?

Due to a lack of coffee, I can't remember the year this happened before. Was it 2000? Anyone have a better memory?

[The sound you can't hear right now is the one made when I hit my head against my desk.]

At least the ADN put this into context. The lower river villages didn't make any money, which means a tough time buying fuel oil for the winter, keeping the electric on, paying off the bills from the previous year. (Of course the middle and upper river villages don't have commercial fisheries, so commercial closures only mean more kings coming up river to them for subsistence.)

We're looking at a disaster here folks. Folks who played by the rules and did not fish for kings have to be angry. Summer chum don't make it that far up the river and aren't available to many villages. And the folks who counted on fall chum for their subsistence instead are now faced with the possibility that that run is going to be a disaster, too. Yukon villages are looking at very tough times this winter.

Hopefully, Parnell's administration will get on this immediately. When a chum crash hit hit the A-Y-K in the mid-90s, the Knowles administration declared a disaster. One of the saddest things I've witnessed in Alaska was that year, when donated frozen salmon fillets in plastic bags arrived and local people, subsistence fishers, walked away with their share of the donation.

Thursday, August 13, 2009

1000 Words

Early morning, dipnet trip at Chitina.

Thursday, August 06, 2009

Finally! Rain Arrives Just in Time for Fire and Fair

That sound you hear? Quite a few of us exhaling in relief. It began raining some time in the wee hours and continues as I slurp coffee and read the news this morning. And it's not an indecisive, few-drops-here-and-there rain. This is steady stuff.

I don't know that I've ever been so pleased to hear the sound of rainfall.

The timely return of precipitation ought to give all the yellow shirts out there a chance to contain and subdue the numerous wild fires out there. It definitely helps to not have the entire area tinder dry. Even if the fires north, east, west and south of us hadn't gotten any closer to Squarebanks and its surrounding neighborhoods, conditions were such that any kind of fire starting up within them could have chewed up the wilderburbs pretty quick. Forestry and the local VFDs have been jumping on anything that started around here - but the question was how long would they bat 1.000?

As noted yesterday, it ALWAYS rains during the local fair.

Heck, I don't even like the Tanana Valley Fair that much. (I don't want to go on rides, or walk around eating booth food that I consume throughout the summer, and I don't have kids. Why go?) But I just might go and walk around in the rain.

Wednesday, August 05, 2009

Sitting Here in Goldstream, Watching the Smoke

Yesterday evening, a bunch of us stood outdoors watching the sky turn a peculiar orangeish gray. There was so much smoke that it seemed like it might be 11 or 12 at night, not 9:30 in the evening. Everyone on the road had switched on their headlights. (For you Lower 48ers - we still don't get dark until pretty late - Land O' Midnight Sun, etc.)

The smoke wasn't from the Railbelt Complex down by Nenana, or the Wood River fire, but from the Hardluck Creek fire that is getting closer enough to our northern wilderburbs to make some of my friends pretty worried about their homes. More fire crews (likely from Outside, resources here are stretched thin) arrived last night.

All the fires here in Squarebanks region made significant runs yesterday. A new fire, out Chena Hot Springs Road, was ripping, from what I've heard. It's like 2004, which was my first summer in Squarebanks, except that we just witnessed the driest July ever recorded. It is scary dry out here. Relative humidities have been very low. Temperatures have been high. This is the kind of stuff that makes for what the professionals call 'extreme fire behavior.' Firefighters are not catching a break from this weather.

The Alaska Interagency Coordination Center's report this morning on Hardluck Creek was not encouraging:
"Extreme fire behavior was observed with torching, crowning and runs in Black Spruce with spotting 1/2 mile. Night fire was also extreme. 30 structures are threatened and 3 structures were destroyed: 1 vacation home, and 2 cabins. Personnel have been unable to accurately map the fire at this time.Tomorrow crews will continue structure protection and try and hold the fire on the North and the East at Bennett Road."
For days, everyone has been repeating the same hopeful adage - the Tanana Fair is starting this weekend, so you know we'll get rain then. Seriously, the Fair is famous for shitty weather. Me, I've been worried that one of my neighbors* (in the loose sense, meaning someone within a few miles of my property) will do something stupid: try to burn a brush pile, decide to dispose of trash via a burn barrel, opt to light off some fireworks, etc... And then we'd have fire busting out here in the Valley. Stupidity knows no season.

So, we're watching, waiting, and finishing up making our property 'fire wise', clearing all the combustibles from within a 30 foot perimeter around the house, aka creating 'defensible space.' A friend helped me chuck the wood pile away further from the house a few weeks ago, thankfully. I've spent days cutting down vegetation around the house and raking out all the dead stuff. Luckily, we don't have black spruce on the lot, and only one tree (a birch) is within 30 feet, and that sucker will come down in a heartbeat if we think things are getting close.

I can't necessarily say that for all my neighbors*. The Valley is, in places, a rabbit warren of dry cabins and houses tucked into the woods. Some places are thick with black spruce and downed dead trees. (And, friends in the Lower 48, we don't have hydrants up here.)

Fingers-crossed.

Saturday, August 01, 2009

Splitsville?

Sometimes vows are made to be broken. Like my vow of some months ago not to ever again blog about she-who-shall-not-be-named. And quite possibly, the marriage vows of the Palins - those paradigms of family values.

"Affairs on both sides" trumpets the Alaska Report, as this thing burns through the internet faster than the Wood River fire that is torching black spruce south of Fairbanks. More alluring is the tidbit that Sarah may have purchased land in Montana and is considering moving there.

Of course Meg Stapleton is denying, denying, denying - as of three hours ago. The Sarah Palin camp has always been shy on transparency, so why should they be playing level now? The scuttlebutt around some walks of Wasilla is that this is not new news. There were many other things out of Wasilla that were hotly denied by the Palin propaganda machine, only to later be proven true.

As is the case here. Maybe they are divorcing, maybe they are not - only time will tell if its just those troublesome "lefty bloggers" (guilty as charged Ms. Stapleton) spreading more filth and lies about the pure Palins.

However, if this particular grapevine bears fruit, all I can say is "Hallelujah, hallelujah!" And not about the impending divorce. Nope. I am a' praying right now that the rumor that she is moving to Montana is true. Could it be possible that in one week we will not only get rid of her as governor, but get rid of her all together? Please, Montana, take her. She's yours.

One thing to note, if this is one more nail that she is busily pounding into her political coffin, she is definitely proving her mettle as a Christian fundamentalist leader: monogamy, modesty, and moral behavior is for everyone else but her (and Ted Haggard and Jim Baker, and Mark Sanford and Larry Craig, and....)

And if a little color does show up in the bottom of the old gold pan after all, with this vein playing out to be something other than fool's gold, then maybe Alaska finally has a chance to fade back into the obscurity it once enjoyed. A place most people, if they thought about us at all, thought contained only Eskimos, igloos, gold and the occasional grizzled prospector.