By sheer luck, I got invited to camp out on an island in the Yukon this week instead of staying in the dorms at voc-ed. Geoff, who teaches in Arctic Village, had set up his camp on Sunday, and when Terri found out, she fished for an invite. I distinctly remember, while packing my stuff in Belfast, thinking “how much camping will I be doing during inservice? Pah!” and boxing up my gear to mail to Venetie. Whoops. Fortunately, I had my sleeping bag and pad, and Terri brought along an extra tent. It was perfect last night: no bugs, no bears, no people. The sun dipped below the horizon for a while, but it never got truly dark. I slept with the tent unzipped and pegged open to let in the mist off the river and the sound of the water lapping the hull of Geoff’s boat in the night. Perfect.
Tag Archives: north country
seasons are sudden
Maybe if I’d been here all summer, I wouldn’t be surprised, but it’s early fall in the Yukon Flats now. I stepped out of the peak of summer, August in Maine, and stepped into cold evenings and clouds and lightning orange trees interrupting the purple and green landscape like easter eggs. The fireweed is going to seed already.
I was in Venetie just long enough to move my stuff into a new apartment (more windows, a bathtub, a south-facing porch, and less cupboard space) and write and mail a letter. I walked through the village with a wary eye on the trees: there have been bears in town. One of my students visited with me while I unpacked my boxes. She’s off to boarding school on Wednesday, so I may not see her again. I told her I’d send cookies every time she sent me a letter of at least one page, and wished her well with a hug. I’m so proud of that girl.
Yesterday, just before I had to hop on a plane to Fort Yukon, my freight came in. I had to unpack all my frozen and refrigerated groceries in a hurry, then hop on the plane. My kitchen floor is covered in cardboard boxes and non-perishable foodstuffs. So much for leaving the place neat and tidy. Inservice is a little frustrating this year: we’re in Fort Yukon, so grocery shopping in our free time is out, and there isn’t really time to go back to Fairbanks, shop, then come back and set up the classroom and the house after inservice. I hope my bananas and lettuce are still good when I get home to Venetie.
The first time I got on a small plane to fly out to Venetie, I thought I was going to die. Now it’s become routine, no more strange than riding a bus. The landscape is still beautiful, especially now as it fades subtly into a fall purple with rivers winding through it like silver foil ribbons, but I’m starting to recognize lakes and mountains along the route. The magnitude of everything seems less when the landscape is speckled with landmarks. It feels like the way home, now, which is always shorter than the way out.
We’re staying in the dorm at the voc-ed center in Fort Yukon for the week. I spent an agonizing while reading on the couch last night until Jake and Terry showed up on borrowed four-wheelers and carried me and another young teacher out of there. We rode up by the army base (you know, because they used to/still do spy on Russia from here) and into the woods a ways, looking for the Yukon and a teacher who should have come in by boat last night (no luck, but he’ll be here today, everyone is quite sure). We saw bear tracks in the river mud, and a snowshoe hare with his heels already white. Jake drove me down to the river and I stuck a hand in, just to say I’d done it. The brisk evening air felt good on my face and I saw a lot of the village fast. Fort Yukon has stop signs and street names and two stores and a radio station and a bed and breakfast! There’s a tour bus! It’s downright strange.
We’re still looking for a 3-5 teacher because for some reason (aaargh!) the job was never posted. Anybody interested? I’m not on facebook anymore (the district has it all blocked up), and I don’t have a working phone connection at the moment, but you can get me by email: keely.m.oconnell@gmail. You’d get to teach across the hall from me and we can play games and go hiking on the weekends! yay!
Without Further Ado
It’s no less frustrating for being universal: when there’s a lot to say, there’s no time left to say it.
I’m back in Arkansas working on (procrastinating) cleaning out the house. In the last two weeks I have recovered from prom prep, taken/facilitated a hunter safety course (this is also known as supervising kids with guns), moved everything out of my apartment and into my classroom, turned in final grades, returned to the lower-48, and floated the upper Buffalo. And I may have bought a boat. More on that all of that later.
For now, I present to you the great and brilliant beauties of Venetie, Alaska, dressed in their finest and wearing their happiest smiles.
In the hours leading up to the big event, my door was open. Everyone needed the phone or the shower or the mirror or just some help zipping up. Terri had her curling iron going full steam (can you tell I have no idea what a curling iron is or how it works?) for hours. Some girls had found dresses elsewhere by the time our box o finery arrived, and some hadn’t. In the end, everyone found something to wear and looked beautiful, and I had a stash of dresses hanging in my classroom closet, patiently waiting for next year.
Prom was awesome. The girls melted my heart: “Ms O! It’s the last song, you have to get on the dance floor!” “Ms O! Come take a picture with us!” “Ms O, you have to play laser tag!” I found myself in a lot of selfies, grinning ear-to-ear next to a kid vibrating with glee.
I got to see people who are usually very restrained cut loose and dance to bruno mars with cardboard cutouts (Paperboy turned out to be a real player). There were activities like laser tag and board games and baking and movies, and we had an unlimited supply of pizza. B brought a fish he’d just caught, because what’s prom without uninvited guests hanging by the door?
The prom committee slept over in my classroom after the big event, and we played bananagrams, watched Super Troopers, re-prommed in our jammies (they weren’t ready for it to be over, so they went back to the gym, turned down the lights, cranked up the music, and rocked out until they were dead on their feet), and made 3 am cookies. I finally crashed out around five, listening to the birds getting laryngitis from singing all through the dusky night. When I woke up, the girls were scattered all over the room like puppies, tangled up carelessly around each other and the furniture.
Thank you a thousand times to everyone who made it happen for us. We’ve started something here that is going to be a part of this village community for years to come.
Prom Teaser
The Night Full of Stars was a huge success! I can’t post many of my pictures until I get photo releases from the kids, but they’re trickling in, and I’ll have more soon.
Everything looked perfect. The girls blew expectations all the way to Russia.
Laser tag was a perfect activity. We had enough stuff that all the kids could play at once.
The sun set in a pink glow just before midnight. After that, it was a silky gray twilight until 5 am.
I can show this one off because her face is turned away: it’s P in her dress from the Cinderella Project.
Jake and Shannon surprised us with a fog machine. It was outrageously rad. The kids actually danced, believe it or not.
Here in Venetie, we have both grayling and laser tag at our prom.
Keys Burning a Hole in my Pocket
In the bathroom before graduation, T stood with her sisters in front of the mirror and fixed her hair and put shoes on her two-year-old daughter. The little gal sat on the counter and smiled and laughed in her sparkly dress as her mom got ready to stand in front of her family and community and accept a hard-earned honor. There was something powerful and totally alien to me in that moment: I am not a mother, I never had a high school graduation, and if I had it would have meant little to me. I didn’t have to sweat for my diploma and juggle a job and two kids like T. What was going through her head as she looked at herself in that mirror?
T sobbed nearly her whole speech through. I shed some tears, too, when she spoke about her family and I glanced at her mom, just radiating pride, and again when she thanked me for my daily notes (encouragement, relationship advice, grammar) in her writing journal. There couldn’t have been an eye in that gym that stayed dry as T spoke with raw feeling about her children and her hopes for the future. She worked hard to earn the right to stand there, and she glowed with pride. I’ve been to some fun graduations and some boring ones, but never one that felt significant the way that this one did.
After graduation, the girls stayed late to get ready for prom. The gym has been totally transformed, and I think I can safely say that we are about to have the best $600 prom in history.
This week has been totally exhausting and more than worth it already. Tomorrow night is going to be a blast, and I’m looking forward to sharing the girls’ joy. They’ve worked hard and they’re ready to play hard. My only regret is that I can’t sneak over there right now and unlock the door to throw a midnight mini dance party for a friend or two. I feel like I used to feel in college when I had some great event planned and ready to execute. I have the keys to a totally awesome empty prom-gym in my pocket: there’s a set of bangin’ speakers in there, and some great lighting and a big dance floor covered in balloons. The problem is that I have nobody to unlock the door for, nobody to crank up the tunes so that I can try dancing with the mannequins, nobody to mug with in front of the photo backdrop. I miss you guys. I wish I could share this kickassery with y’all.
chasing piggens 