I can't believe that I’m 62 and this man still traumatizes me to this day when I talk about him. We walked into his classroom, it was October so it's getting dark and rainy and windy. And I know now that as an adult, he was going through his own mental health issues, living in a small place. But he walked into that.
We walked into that classroom. He was on his desk, walking back and forth and just spouting off negative stuff about how terrible the community was, what a bad place to live, on and on. We didn't need to hear that. But then he turned to us and he said to us, he said, “and shame on you, shame on every one of your parents for letting you come to school dress the way you are.” He was a suit and tie guy.
I was a kid. I loved American Indian Movement stuff. I was reading everything I could about the BIA building takeover and Alcatraz and Indian wars and the salmon wars. I wanted to get outta Wrangell and go. My mother was like, “you're not going anywhere.” She was probably glad we lived on an island. I couldn't run away.
But when this man did this to us, I looked around and my classmates heads were down. This little girl who I loved dearly was sitting next to me and she had tears in her eyes and I thought, “I gotta defend these kids, I gotta defend her.” I shove my chair back. And I said, “Mr. D” that's not his real name. I said, “this is our town, this is our community. You don't belong here. This is our place. Pack your damn suitcase, take your shit and suit and tie and get the hell out of our community.”
He jumped down off of his desk. I had long hair. Then he grabbed me by my hair and drug me out and threw me in the hallway and said, “you're out of my classroom for the entire week, get into the library” and I had to go through the principal and all that.
I was actually, glad I wasn’t in his classroom, but afraid to go home because. Back then, those were the days, I graduated '78, which by the way was the last year you could legally sterilize Native girls in boarding schools. So things were different for us. I went home thinking I'm gonna get my ass beat and my dad will do it with belt because I was misbehaving in school and we were not to misbehave in school.
I went home, my dad made me sit down and took my mother and him at dinner. I thought, “okay, this is coming now. I'm gonna get taken out to the back shed, and here it goes.” He asked me to tell him what happened. And then both my parents put their hands on my legs and they said, “thank you for defending us. Thank you for standing up to somebody who doesn't know who we are” and that was from my white parent and a Native mother.
I think they unleashed the monster in me because at that point I thought, “I want to be a teacher.” I'm gonna make a difference for Alaskan Native children, for Alaskan children, period. No child - I don't care what race you are - should attend school and not feel worthy and not be allowed to flourish for who you are and so it's been my intent in education. That's why I wanted to do it and spent all these years doing it is to change what we do with our children. We have to, we have to let our children flourish and we're not doing it and by following the typical Western system, we think we're doing good. We really need to reexamine that. Look at our dropout rates. Look at our grad rates, look at our success rate, look for college rates, that whole thing and how much Nativeness are we losing in this system?
Qanglaagix Ethan Petticrew, Anchorage kalaka