Harvesting Good Medicine: Internalizing and Crystalizing Core Cultural Values in Young Children

Abstract

Indigenous Alaskans face many obstacles as they attempt to navigate what it means to be a member of a tribal group. Pressures to assimilate into the global society, loss of access to traditional lands, and dwindling subsistence resources due to climate change are aggravating factors in the cultural identity development of Indigenous Alaskans. Experiences on the land such as fishing, picking berries, and harvesting edible and medicinal plants with family members and other culture-bearers are known to play a mitigating role in resisting assimilative pressures, yet little is known about how such experiences contribute to a child's growing sense of self and belonging. In this research study, the authors sought to untangle the nuanced experiences of young children as they engaged in the cultural activity of harvesting a medicinal plant in Southeast Alaska. Through the use of wearable cameras, the authors captured video footage from the perspectives of 5- to 6-year-old kindergarten children from a small Alaska Native village in Southeast Alaska as they learned lessons on and from the land, from adult culture-bearers, and from peers. As the authors analyzed the videos, themes emerged that pointed to small interactions with adults, peers, and the environment that positioned the children to internalize and crystalize core cultural values and thereby strengthen their own cultural identity development.

Introduction

If we listen, the Land¹ will tell us a story; if we observe and pay attention, then we may come to understand; and if we are guided, then we become a part of that story that can be shared with others.

Beginning with a story

The young boy trained his body by running up the mountain trail every day and listened carefully as his uncles taught him everything he would need to do in order to invite xóots², the brown bear, to offer himself. The boy fasted and cleared his mind so that the bear would see that he was ready. The boy saw xóots early on the second day of his solo hunt; the bear stood on his hind legs, opening his chest to the boy's spear. Nervous and excited, the boy threw the spear, but instead of striking xóots in the chest, the spear pierced his front shoulder. The bear turned and ran, and the boy carefully followed until he saw him lie down in a dense patch of wa'ums³, devil's club. The boy observed the bear chewing the tender shoots and spitting the chewed stalk onto his wounded shoulder. Intrigued, the boy watched for several days as xóots continued to apply the chewed wa'ums stalk onto his wound. On the fifth day, the bear arose and ambled off into the woods, apparently cured from his wound.

The preceding story⁴ is based on tales of the Tlingíts' discovery of devil's club and other medicinal plants, as recorded in oral history and as referenced in Schofield (1989) and de Laguna (1972). Stories highlighting the careful observation of animals, or stories of transformation, in which a human enters the world of animals and actually becomes a bear or a salmon, abound in Indigenous oral histories. Such stories illustrate the Indigenous worldview in which Nature teaches us essential lessons about living and being part of the Land (Cajete, 2004; Kawagley, 2010; Lowan, 2009).

Like the young boy in our story, from a very young age, many Alaska Native children are immersed in Nature, actively learning from the Land alongside Elders, families, teachers and their peers. Yet little research has explored children's early formative relations with the Land and how these relations are informed through their interactions with others—human and more-than-human beings (particularly through the lens of a child). Thus, the aim of this study is to explore how haa aani (in the Tlingít language) and na yuubm (in the Sm'algyax language of the Tsimshian people), reverence and respect for the Land, is enacted by 5- to 6-year-old Alaska Native children in the context of being on the Land.

Background

Living and learning in Nature provides the foundation upon which young children develop their cultural and environmental identities (Kana'iaupuni & Malone, 2006; Lunda, 2018; Reyhner, 2017). Traditional ecological wisdom passed down generation to generation teaches children about who they are, where they come from, and ways of knowing and being with other living beings in their environment (Kawagley, 2006). However, in many places around the globe the ability to pass down traditional ecological knowledge is under threat due to impending development and lack of access to traditional harvest areas (Barreau, Ibarra, Wyndham, Rojas, & Kozak, 2016). Additionally, acculturation, shifting social and community values influenced by contemporary Western norms have usurped participation in traditional cultural practices in Indigenous communities across the globe (Department of Economic and Social Affairs, 2009). Climate change is having an unprecedented impact on coastal Alaska Native communities that depend on the sea and for survival, particularly related to timing, accessibility, and availability of subsistence resources (Cold, 2018). Against this dire backdrop we present a study of Southeast Alaska Native children learning to harvest good medicine, demonstrating their developing relationship with the Land and other living creatures. Through interactions on the Land, this study shows how Alaska Native children begin to adopt and internalize core cultural values.

Indigenous peoples are people of place, and the nature of place is embedded in their (tribal) language (Cajete, 2004). Haa aani (in the Tlingít language) and na yuubm (in the Sm'algyax language of the Tsimshian people) denote a core cultural value shared by both Southeast Alaskan Indigenous tribes: honoring and utilizing the Land with reverence and respect. Tlingít and Tsimshian children learn to live in harmony with the Land and with each other, in part, by simply being on the Land and, in part, through participating in subsistence activities such as picking berries, digging clams, or harvesting medicinal plants alongside parents, grandparents, or other culture-bearers (Lunda, 2018). These adults may not necessarily make explicit the connection between the activity and the core cultural value; however, the children take up that value through careful observation, acquiring language and place meaning over the course of multiple experiences in Nature (Jiménez-Balam, Alcalá, & Salgado, 2019).

Colonization and over a century of acculturative forces have led to an erosion of cultural identity among Alaska Native peoples (Berry, 1999; Rivkin, Lopez, Trimble, Johnson, Orr, & Quaintance, 2019). Removing children from their families and their villages to attend boarding schools was common practice in Alaska as recently as the 1960s (Darnell & Hoëm, 1996). Not only were these young children no longer living and learning on the Land of their ancestors, in many cases, they were given new names, different clothes, fed unfamiliar foods, and forced to speak in a language different from their home language. Loss of cultural identity has been correlated with social dysfunction including substance abuse, depression, and suicide among Indigenous people (Bombay, Matheson, & Anisman, 2011; Gone & Trimble, 2012).

Cultural identity has been shown to be a protective factor for health and well-being among Indigenous youth (Gray & Cote, 2018; LaFromboise, Hoyt, Oliver, & Whitbeck, 2006). A strong sense of cultural identity is linked to resilience, the ability to overcome hardships such as poverty, unemployment, institutional racism, discrimination, and the historical trauma associated with colonization (Kelley & Small, 2016; Wexler, 2014). Participation in cultural activities such as traditional dancing, speaking one's Indigenous language, understanding the meaning of traditional stories, and harvesting traditional foods is positively correlated with enculturation, a measure of the degree to which one identifies with one's own cultural heritage (Kulis, Wagaman, Tso, & Brown, 2013; Winderowd, Montgomery, Stumblingbear, Harless, & Hicks, 2008).

Much of the research on protective factors and resilience among Indigenous peoples has been focused on adults and adolescents by use of surveys and interviews (Sahota, 2019; Schiefer & Krahé, 2014; Trout, Wexler, & Moses, 2018). Although early childhood is a significant time of psychosocial development when foundational aspects of a person's identity are formed (Erikson, 1980), only a few studies have examined Alaska Native children's identity formation during this critical period (Green, 2017). Indeed, a child's emotional reactions and interactions with the natural world during this critical period, both positive and negative, influence their developing sense of self (Green, Kalvaitis, & Worster, 2016). Our study makes a valuable contribution to the literature by examining firsthand young children's lived experiences harvesting a medicinal plant and enacting reverence, care, and stewardship of the Land shared by other living beings. We approach this study from a Southeast Alaska Native perspective, wherein the Tlingít haa kusteeyí (lifeway) was, and continues to be, centered on subsistence—harvesting from the Land and the sea all that is necessary for physical survival. In addition to sustenance for the body, subsistence harvesting cultivates a spiritual connection to place having a “sacramental quality in that projects [are] performed in a recurring sacred context, on the same lands and along the same paths as those of one's ancestors, whose spirits still dwell there” (Thornton, 2008, p. 170). In this study we share a message of hope and resilience for future generations of the importance of maintaining traditional ecological practices.

Methodology

Research approach

The study was informed by a participatory approach, honoring children's agency to explore and interact with others (peers/adults/other living beings) in discovering their sense of self in an environment. We also drew from the traditions of phenomenology, or the study of the lifeworld, which fits well with a Native science approach. Cajete (2004) explains:

The lifeworld evolves through our experiences from birth to death and forms the basis of our explanation of reality before we rationalize it into categories of facts and apply scientific principles. In other words, it is subjective experiences that form the basis for objective explanation of the world. (p. 45)

We used sensory tours (wearable cameras) as a method to focus on the lived experiences of 5- to 6-year-old children (Green, 2016) while they engaged in harvesting wa'ums as well as other activities. The sensory tour method is a participatory method, which draws from the tradition of walking tours that have been successfully used with children in geographical, place, and environmental research for a number of years (Green, 2012; Hart, 1979). “Tours allow opportunities for children to show something that cannot be explained” apart from a setting (Green, 2012, p. 275). Understanding of children's experiences is gleaned through attending to their verbal and nonverbal forms of communication. When viewing footage captured during a sensory tour, one feels as if they are walking in the shoes of the child wearing the camera. The method literally captures a wide range of a child's sensory perceptions, including what a child sees, hears, says, and touches in their environment (Green, 2016).

Research context

In our research, we invited children to put on the wearable cameras. The children volunteered and took turns wearing the cameras for as long as they were interested. If a child decided they no longer wanted to wear a camera, they simply found an adult (researcher or teacher) and asked to have it removed. In most cases, once the cameras were strapped around their foreheads they seemed to forget that they were wearing them. The researchers also carried iPads to take pictures and videos, supplementing sensory tours through different angled footage.

Parents provided consent for children to participate in the research; child assent was also provided. School administrators, teachers, and the University Institutional Review Board with which the researchers are affiliated approved the study. All children were identified as Tsimshian, Tlingít, Haida (the three main Indigenous peoples of the region) or mixed Indigenous ancestry by their guardians. Pseudonyms are used for all children, adults, and places mentioned in this article.

For this article, we analyzed 25 sensory tour videos, averaging 11 minutes each, collected by 14 children during a full-day kindergarten field trip to Evergreen Island. Additionally, we analyzed 26 minutes of video collected by the researchers. We viewed each video multiple times, watching it in its entirety the first few times and then slowly viewing and transcribing pertinent sections of the children's verbal and nonverbal exchanges and interactions. The two researchers met together in person and over the phone to discuss their observations and emerging themes in the videos. In our initial analysis we focused on videos featuring interactions of children as they participated in preparing wa'ums. However, as we viewed the segments over and over again, we noticed other micro-interactions that demonstrated children's reverent relations with the Land, with other living creatures, and with each other. The two researchers utilized inter-rater reliability (O'Leary, 2017), meeting together in person and over the phone to discuss their observations and emerging themes in the videos. We carefully present these interactions, preserving the children's voiced expressions, emotions, and actions. We then interpret and analyze each interaction to explain how it represents what we believe is a core cultural value of na yuubm expressed and enacted by these young children.

Interestingly, the five children who demonstrated na yuubm the most frequently in their expressions and behaviors also had the highest level of participation in subsistence activities as indicated on a parent survey. We invited parents to complete a survey rating their family's participation in 14 common activities such as picking berries, fishing, and hunting on a Likert scale with 1 indicating they never participate and 5 indicating they almost always participate in each activity. Totaling the scores yielded a subsistence participation score ranging from 14 to 70. The subsistence participation score was highest for Harry at 51, then Sara at 41, Elsie at 39, Ashley at 30, and Baxter at 29. The nine subsistence surveys returned yielded a median of 29. The triangulation of our qualitative findings with this source of quantitative data helps confirm what we observed in these children as a strong orientation of care and stewardship of the Land. Unfortunately, surveys were not returned from all the families; thus, this data is only partially informative.

Because the primary nature of our inquiry is qualitative, we note that our interpretation is both enhanced and limited by us as the researchers and instruments in the process (Bogdan & Biklen, 2007). As instruments in the research we are limited by what we see, what we know, and what we learned from and with these children during our limited time together. At the same time, we are empowered by the lenses through which we view the children's experiences. Angie is deeply rooted in her Tlingít cultural values, having grown up immersed in subsistence practices of care, honor, and reverence for the Land. Carie, while not Alaska Native, also espouses the values of stewardship, listening, and being in-tune with the Land. Thus, we bracket our experiences as we interpret children's lived experiences so that we can (to the extent possible) see the world through their understanding (O'Leary, 2017). As a qualitative approach, our research does not intend to make assertive claims; rather, we tell of the children's storied entanglements with the Land and with each other (Ritchie, 2012). We tell the children's lived encounters as an adapted Indigenous methodology—affirming the importance of the young learning from the old and the old learning from the young.

Findings

Crossing to the island

As the tide reached its lowest point in midmorning, the children, teachers, researchers, and family members made their way through a now-shallow tidal creek that separated them from their destination, Evergreen Island.

“Oh it's deep over here!” Harry exclaimed, walking along the edge of the water. “Where, where is a fish? Do you guys see any fishes?”

“Look at the rock!” Baxter pointed out.

“There are fish over there. Can we just walk through it?” Harry called to his friends. “Jez guys … I'm in the water,” he stated, testing out his rubber boots.

Baxter took a few steps out into the tidal pool slowly; then, noting the depth of the water, he turned around quickly and returned to the edge.

“Why can't we walk over there?” Harry asked, “Do we just have to walk through it or something? It's not like it's that shallow … um … that high …”

“Shallow,” David restated.

“… Shallow?” Harry repeated.

Ms. Nelson and Ms. Angie were ahead, assessing the best place to cross. Ms. Nelson noted, “It will probably be over you guys' boots. See how their boots are taller than yours?” Ms. Nelson pointed toward another child and Ms. Angie who had already crossed. Ms. Angie returned and offered Baxter a ride on her back. Ms. Nelson carried two more children, one in each of her arms. Harry giggled, watching as Baxter was delivered safely to the other side. Ms. Angie then offered Harry a ride. He accepted and once delivered to the other side he and his friends immediately resumed their exploration.

One at a time each child was lifted across the tidal creek. Then the children made their way across the expanse of other small tidal pools and mud flats until they arrived on the rocky shores of Evergreen Island. The day had only begun, and all of the children were in good spirits, having already accomplished the first of many challenging feats.

Harry's tour revealed his and Baxter's competence and comfort on the Land. In the challenge of crossing the tidal creek, neither boy became anxious. In fact, they actively tested the boundaries and explored their environment. Harry sought after fish, which is not surprising given that his parent survey revealed his family's involvement in commercial fishing. Harry also exercised discernment, questioning what he should do in the given situation. “Do we have to walk through it or something? … Why can't we go in yet?” With guidance and support from adults and teachers, the best course of action was carried out. Harry giggled at the prospect of being carried across but then consented, although the wearable camera revealed a few groans as he was carried across. The adults modeled an appropriate reaction in first ascertaining the safety of the landscape and executing a plan that would ensure children's safety and comfort (of not getting their feet wet). The peace and assurance demonstrated by the adults and children in this interaction, even in the midst of a challenging feat, is a crucial aspect in the enactment of na yuubm, knowing who you are in place (Thornton, 2008).

Locating wa'ums (devil's club)

“You see the green part right there? That part is the medicine. You scrape the needles off. See and underneath is green, but you don't want to scrape too hard, or you're gonna take the medicine off. This part's medicine. Once that part's off, you peel it off. It'll come off like a banana peel. See?”

Ms. Nelson, the Tsimshian cultural teacher, held a 5-foot stalk of wa'ums up and described how she carefully selected and cut the stalk and removed the branches. After scraping the paper-thin outer layer she revealed a patch of green. She smelled the green medicine before peeling it off (see Fig. 1), passing it around for the children to smell: “It's really strong!”

Fig. 1.

Peeling the stalk. This figure shows how the green ribbons of “good medicine” can be peeled from the thoroughly scraped stalk of devil's club.

“Are we going to have knives?” a child (off camera) asked.

“What's the white part?” another child (off camera) inquired about the layer underneath the green.

“That part's cambium. The green part's the good medicine,” Ms. Nelson explained.

“Can we taste it?” Rick asked.

“It's good for you … but you only get to chew on it if you are really, really sick,” another child (off camera) explained, remembering a story Ms. Nelson had read to them about a Tlingít girl who gets sick and chews wa'ums.

Through modeling, recall of a story, and sensory encounters, Ms. Nelson introduced the children to important traditional ecological knowledge about wa'ums and its medicinal properties. The children exercised their senses through observing Ms. Nelson scrape the stalk and by touching and smelling the medicinal part of the plant. Authentic learning encounters on the Land play an important role in instilling cultural values and traditions. In this interaction, we see that children's interests are piqued as they ask questions to develop understanding. Additionally, relating to another's experience through a traditional story teaches children na yuubm, important ways of relating to their environment (e.g., see Worl & Goade, 2017).

Awareness of potential danger

“Do you guys want to go see where I got them?” Ms. Nelson asked, before leading the children across the rocky beach to find a small clump of wa'ums growing at the tideline. Curious, Deborah reached for the stalk, covering her hand with the sleeve of her sweatshirt.

Ms. Nelson stopped her, explaining, “Deborah, even with your sweater they will poke through … so you have to be careful.”

The other children heeded the warning and took a step back from the large stalks. Then they followed Ms. Nelson to the rocky beach where she had laid out four stalks for processing.

“Don't grab it yet, don't grab it yet.” Ms. Nelson again warned, “Because we have to make sure we have gloves on to protect your hands.”

Ms. Nelson placed several pairs of leather gloves on the rocks for the children to work with. The children all paused and watched as Ms. Nelson explained, “We sit in one spot to try to keep our needles in one area. We don't want to spread them all over the place. We want to try to keep our needles all in one area.”

Through Ms. Nelson's guidance, the children developed their understanding of the medicinal values as well as the plant's dangerous attributes. Although full of “good medicine,” the outside stalk is thorny, and if the needles poke your skin, it can be very painful. Similar to the tidal crossing, Ms. Nelson modeled careful discernment and skills to navigate potential dangers on the Land. Additionally, the children were taught to care for each other by minimizing the spread of the needles while they processed the plant.

Developing skills and tools

“Now can I do it?” Sara asked after patiently observing Ms. Nelson processing the stalk. Without delay, Sara began scraping the needles and thin bark layer off the plant. She moved the knife smoothly back and forth across the stalk. Pausing for a moment, she touched the knife, carefully feeling the edge to ensure she was using the dull side of the knife. After trying several techniques, she finally settled on a fast back-and-forth motion, rubbing the straight part of the stalk with the dull side of the knife, using just the right amount of pressure (see Fig. 2).

Fig. 2.

Scraping the stalk. This figure shows a child using the dull side of a knife to scrape the thorny outer layer off the devil's club stalk to reveal the green medicinal layer.

“I see green!” cried Sara, scraping at a steady rhythm. She raised her gloved hand. “See it is not even poking me,” Sara exclaimed, touching the stalk again with her hand. “I see some green!” Sara repeated, excited about her accomplishment.

“Stop when you get to green and move to another area.” Ms. Nelson encouraged her. Sara slowly and carefully worked her way around a little knot on the stalk; her hand glided gently back and forth, back and forth, bending her wrist with the movement. Finding that the knots in the stalk posed a difficulty, she skipped over them and moved to a next straight section.

“Look, I'm using a knife!” Sara repeated several times to her classmates as they came near. She was proud of her new skill.

Learning to harvest medicinal plants on the Land takes practice and skill. What this interaction shows is Sara's persistence in practicing a measure that was difficult and challenging. Once again, Sara was not left to her own devices in learning the right positioning of the knife and just the right pressure to harvest the “good medicine”; rather, Ms. Nelson was nearby encouraging her along the way. In this micro-interaction between Sara and Ms. Nelson and between Sara and the plant, we see how Sara mastered a technique that worked for her. Sara felt proud of her accomplishment, so much so that she wanted to show and teach others.

Teaching others

“No, use this for that.” Sara said to her peer, Elsie, who was picking needles off the devil's club with her bare hand while wearing the glove on the same hand she used to hold her trowel. Sara explained that Elsie should wear the glove on her other hand so that she could hold the stalk of the devil's club steady while she scraped.

“Hey Elsie, look it! You use this hand with glove on it to hold this [pointing to the stalk]. And you use the one with no glove.” Sara motioned to her knife, noticing that Elsie had a trowel. Elsie paused and listened to Sara's instruction, adjusting her technique. Sara continued to scrape, fast back-and-forth, using just the right amount of pressure.

Soon after Sara observed Rick struggling, so she intervened. “You do this,” she said while demonstrating her technique. “You don't do this,” she stated as she modeled holding the stalk with two hands. “You do this,” she repeated as she showed Rick how to hold the stalk correctly. “When you see this part [pointing to the green medicinal layer], move to the next side.” Sara was trying to share the technique she had innovated with Rick.

“Whoa! I scraped some wood off!” Rick exclaimed.

“That's exactly what you're supposed to do,” encouraged Ms. Nelson.

When Rick got too aggressive in his scraping, Sara cautioned him, “You can't do that or it will get all the good medicine off—the green parts. The white parts aren't medicine,” she explained as she pointed to the white layer directly under the green layer.

Rick's technique was slow and laborious, and after about 3 minutes, he tired of the task. When Sara heard him say he was done, she tried to encourage him “Keep doing it.” Rick, however, had decided he was finished. Yet he stayed near to observe.

In this interaction, we see Sara teaching others the skill that she had mastered. Again, sharing with others not only the fruits of your labors but the skills that are required in the process is part of na yuubm, respect and reverence for the Land. Sara took it upon herself to share the understanding she had gained with others; she followed the example of Ms. Nelson conveying words of encouragement to Rick to persist even when the task was challenging.

Observing and taking notice

As the children observed and waited for a turn to scrape the stalk, Ms. Nelson pointed their attention to the spruce grove nearby. “Oh look, I see some spruce tips. If you guys wanna pick spruce tips …”

“Spruce tips!” several children repeated and stood up.

“Yeah! If you're waiting, you can pick spruce tips while you wait,” Ms. Nelson continued, “Guess what, I can make spruce tip honey or spruce tip syrup.”

Without delay, a group of five or six children ran toward the nearby grove to pick spruce tips.

In the distance a child (off camera) yelled out, “I see salmon! I see salmon!”

“I see salmon!” Sara chimed in. “Look at that silver spot,” she said, noticing what she took to be the shiny silver back of the salmon against the deep blue-green of the tidal estuary.

“Keep an eye on the tide,” Ms. Nelson encouraged the children's observations.

In noticing salmon in the distance, the children showed how they had learned to read the landscape. Being aware on the Land is a core attribute embedded in na yuubm. Such awareness does not emerge overnight; rather, it is instilled through recurring experiences on the Land. In this interaction, although the children were working on another task, they were simultaneously aware and attuned with what was around them.

Care and stewardship

“What are you doing?” asked Ashley, noticing Baxter repeatedly scooping up buckets of saltwater and pouring it over a tide pool in which he had placed some small fish.

“I'm getting water to put on our fish so it can breathe,” explained Baxter.

Nearby, Harry and James turned over stones to see the small sea critters awaiting the return of the tide.

“Don't pick up crabs.” Harry commanded. However, curiosity about the small living creatures intrigued Elsie and Deborah; together, they built a small corral out of stones into which they placed several crabs.

“We're building them a home,” said Elsie. “Keep them in there. They like their homes.”

“I'm not going to hurt you,” Elsie cooed as she gently picked up the thumbnail-sized crab. After observing the crabs scurrying about in the corral for a few minutes, Elsie and Deborah carefully returned the crabs to the spot on the beach where they caught them.

Later on, along a dirt path near the beach, a group of about six children spied a butterfly, and they immediately began chasing it. Ashley (wearing the camera) caught Baxter as he captured the butterfly in his hand, and several children gathered around to see it.

“You killed it!” exclaimed Ashley as she saw the butterfly was unable to fly out of Baxter's cupped hands. Baxter appeared apologetic, yet there was nothing he could do. A few minutes later Ashley implored her friends, “Don't chase the butterflies or you'll kill them like Baxter did.”

Along the same trail, Baxter grabbed a salmonberry sprout and yanked it from the plant.

“Not like that,” said Sara. “You get the ones on the ground. See these soft ones?” She pointed to the salmonberry runners growing near the base of the plant. Perhaps Sara had heard this bit of wisdom before, or perhaps she had inferred it after hearing about the care taken when selecting a particular wa'ums stalk to harvest.

These four interactions revealed how some of the children were developing dispositions of care and stewardship. The children were also learning important lessons on self-regulation, that is, regulating their own actions and behaviors in order to care for others (plants and animals). Peers noticed and directed each other in their actions. Harry encouraged others not to disturb the crabs; Elsie and Deborah carefully placed them back where they belonged after a few moments of observation. Ashley corrected Baxter when he inadvertently disturbed the butterfly and encouraged others not to make the same mistake. And Sara, having knowledge on which salmonberry sprouts to pick to conserve others, directed Baxter in this intricate wisdom of stewardship exercised in harvesting food and medicine from the Land.

Crossing back

Toward midday the class once again crossed the tidal creek, leaving Evergreen Island before the rising tide made it impossible for them to cross. Some children resumed working on harvesting wa'ums once they made it to the other side. By lunchtime they had completely scraped two stalks and peeled the green layer in ribbons that filled two paper bags. While other children chose to play on the shoreline, Sara elected to continue scraping the stalks. Several other children joined her for short bursts of activity, but she remained with the task, with only a few small breaks, until the teachers called the group to gather for the bus.

Discussion

The lived experience of being on the Land for a day loosely structured around harvesting and processing devil's club encouraged the children to crystalize their awareness not just of the plant but also of appropriate ways of being on the Land. When we first began to analyze the children's videos, our focus was on the students who were actively engaged in processing wa'ums. However, upon further review of the video and through listening to the voices and actions of these young Alaska Native children, we began to take notice of the many intricate ways in which na yuubm was enacted.

Each child in the study enacted some aspect of na yuubm, honoring and utilizing the Land with reverence and respect. Place knowledge is a precursor to na yuubm, for how can one utilize a resource if one does not know about that resource? And how can one honor and utilize the Land with reverence and respect without deep knowledge of the environment? All 17 children present during the field excursion to Evergreen Island had the opportunity to learn from Ms. Nelson's words and actions during her brief lesson on harvesting and processing wa'ums and thus begin to develop their knowledge of the Land. Some children, such as Sara and Harry, appeared to take up the lessons more readily, perhaps because of the background knowledge they brought as a result of their family's active subsistence lifestyle. Other children, such as Rick, were just at the beginning stages of developing confidence and self-efficacy on the Land. Still, Rick tried his hand at scraping the wa'ums stalk to harvest medicine for the Elders. Although he did not persist, he stayed nearby watching, listening, and trying again later in the day. At least three of the children engaged in peer teaching, for example when Ashley admonished others not to chase butterflies, Harry told his friends not to pick up the crabs, or when Sara showed Elsie and Rick how to best scrape the wa'ums stalk to get to the “good medicine.” All children sharpened and honed their observation skills; they noticed important aspects in the environment such as the level of the tide or the presence of fish or where crabs prefer to live—in the rocky rather than the muddy part of the beach.

It is through experiences on the Land, using all of their senses, that children begin to develop the cultural value of na yuubm. Gently touching a thorn to test its sharpness, tasting the salmonberry shoot, smelling the freshness of the sea air, listening to the sounds of a raven's wings as he soars overhead, seeing the waves beginning to fill the tide pool and determining that the tide must be coming in—these lessons can only be learned on the Land. For Alaska Native children, experiences on the Land often begin at a very young age when young families go out to harvest food and medicine for themselves and others. Indeed, Ashley's parents volunteered as chaperones during a portion of the day at Evergreen Island, and they took turns carrying their baby and tending to their toddler. While not expected to actively participate in harvesting, these young children are nonetheless experiencing what it means to be active on the Land. When they are old enough to participate in the harvest, their contributions will be praised, and their cultural identity will be strengthened.

Our findings reveal valuable lessons that can be learned about the importance of Indigenous educational approaches. Traditional ecological knowledge can be transmitted to children in very subtle ways. Including young children in excursions on the Land, allowing them to develop agency by entrusting them with the tools to harvest, and teaching them both directly and through indirect methods such as modeling, and allowing them to practice and innovate with the tools—all of these actions contribute to children's sense of who they are in relation to the Land and to each other. This strong sense of self is important as our children face the challenges of a warming environment and a changing world.

In this study, Sara's experience harvesting wa'ums stood out among her peers. She was one of the first to volunteer to process the plant; and while other children freely explored the woods and the beach, engaged in pretend play, or collected spruce tips and other edible plants, Sara remained at the task of processing wa'ums for more than an hour in the morning and almost another hour in the afternoon. She engaged in peer teaching and encouraged other children as they attempted to process medicine from the Land. Sara's family frequently engages in subsistence activities; perhaps Sara's multiple experiences on the Land contribute to her readiness and persistence to engage so intently in the harvest. Sara remained with the task of scraping the stalk, not so she could accumulate the “good medicine” for herself but to contribute to the growing collection to be dried and shared as tea or salve with the Elders. Knowing the traditional stories of wa'ums and being able to competently harvest, prepare, and share the “good medicine”—that, in itself, is “good medicine” for Sara and all children.

This study makes a valuable contribution to the literature by examining young children's lived experiences harvesting a medicinal plant and enacting reverence and stewardship for the Land.

While findings from this 1-day adventure revealed how these Alaska Native children have begun to internalize the core cultural value of na yuubm at a very young age, we also recognize that our findings only reveal a glimpse of these values in a specific context at a particular time. Certainly, should we have had the opportunity to spend more time with the children in other circumstances and other contexts we would see na yuubm enacted and reenacted in more extended ways. Additional research from other Indigenous groups during multiple subsistence seasons would provide opportunities to more fully explore and describe the important process of cultural identity development. Further studies might also identify teacher actions designed to support and nurture children's confidence and competence in Nature, particularly for children who do not regularly engage in family subsistence harvesting.

Conclusions

Knowing and understanding who you are in relation to your place is dependent upon being active on the Land. For Indigenous children this involves harvesting in “a recurring sacred context on the same lands and along the same paths as those of one's ancestors, whose spirits still dwell there” (Thornton, 2008, p. 170). One's cultural identity is determined in part by the degree to which one adheres to the cultural values of the group to which one claims membership. When asked about the importance of subsistence in her life, Ms. Nelson responded: “Subsistence is a huge part of our culture, our identity. Everything we have comes from our land. Being able to understand our surroundings is important in understanding who we are” (personal communication, May 9, 2019).

Haa aani. Na yuubm. To honor and respect the Land with reverence and respect.

“I'm a Bear!” says Elsie proudly as we walk down the beach. Elsie knows who she is: a member of the Bear clan of the Tlingít people. Her mother is a Bear; her sisters, brothers, and maternal cousins are also Bears through matrilineal descent. But Elsie is also a Bear, perhaps in part because she has experienced harvesting wa'ums on the Land of her ancestors and through that lived experience is beginning to adopt the wisdom and cultural values of her people. She is internalizing the important cultural values of conservation, stewardship, and sharing that are central to her identity.

Author Disclosure Statement

No competing financial interests exist.

Funding Information

This research was supported by Sealaska Heritage Institute (SHI), a private nonprofit founded in 1980 to perpetuate and enhance Tlingít, Haida, and Tsimshian cultures of Southeast Alaska. Its goal is to promote cultural diversity and cross-cultural understanding through public services and events. SHI also conducts social scientific and public policy research that promotes Alaska Native arts, cultures, history, and education statewide.

This research was further supported by the University of Alaska BLaST Program. BLaST is supported by the NIH Common Fund, through the Office of Strategic Coordination, Office of the NIH Director with the linked awards: TL4GM118992, RL5GM118990, & UL1GM118991. The content is solely the responsibility of the authors and does not necessarily represent the official views of the National Institutes of Health. UAF is an affirmative action / equal employment opportunity employer and educational institution.