Nothing Says Spring Like Herring

Last Friday my friend Eddie, also the janitor here at school, walked into my classroom and asked me if I was a good walker. I'm used to these sort of direct questions that seem to come totally out of the blue, but also knew he was about to send me on an adventure. "Wanna see a Tsimshian fire drill?" He asked. OF COURSE! I replied, not sure what he was talking about but knew it had to be cool. Turned out herring season had just begun (they wait until the moment the fish spawn and then make the announcement) and the fleets were out with their nets pulling in the little fishies by the hundreds.

I rushed home and changed, then walked (yes, I am a good walker by the way) out to the graveyard and made my way down the forested trail that meanders along the coastline. I noticed right away the air smelled different-- like live fish (the fresh, ocean smell). And the symphony of excited eagles, gulls, ravens, and crows filled the air. I felt the flapping of giant wings above me and watched as a bald eagle struggled to fly inside the canopy of the old growth forest, knocking off branches with her powerful wings. She landed right above me and we shared a studying glance, just enough time for me to whip out my camera and snap a quick photo. Then I realized I was crying. The beauty, the sounds, the moment, it was purely magnificent. THIS is life.

I crept through the trees and onto the snow-covered beach where dozens of fishing boats were busy sweeping up the herring along the rocky shore. As they cranked their nets in it sounded like drumming, and I gazed out at these fathers, grandfathers, sons and uncles, realizing I was witness to a tradition that has helped sustain this community and would continue for generations to come. It symbolized the beginning of spring, and attracted not only the fishermen, but the wildlife of southeast Alaska-- in one afternoon I saw hundreds of bald eagles, ravens, crows, gulls, oystercatchers, sea lions, and even a pod of porpoises. There were so many different species of birds, so many different calls, I wished for a telephoto lens and recording equipment so I could capture every minute detail of the life that surrounded me. I'm not sure if all that equipment (or these words) could convey the absolute majesty of this amazing experience. It was the energy in the air-- all life was giddy with excitement (from the trees to the people), the animals all well fed after the long winter, and on top of it all it was sunny and bright. Herring season is awesome.

Spring Break

I can honestly call the time I spent last week a "break." I broke away from the fast-paced routine, the constant stimulus that surrounds a classroom full of children, the beep of the alarm clock, workout schedules, bedtimes, all of those carefully managed elements that form the "organized chaos" that is my life. I enjoyed the feeling of being able to do whatever I wanted (given the constraints of living on an island, of course) when I wanted. It was liberating and I needed that.

After a day of rest, I baked a loaf of bread (that was so terrible I gave it to the crows) and headed into the mountains with my new home strapped to my back. The weather report was not good, hard to believe on such a sunny calm day. But I knew that by nightfall there would be 60 mph winds and snow, so my goal was to make it across the island (from west to east) before dark. It didn't happen. I soon found out that southeast Alaska is not a place meant for travel on foot. Between the wetlands, the thickets of the montane forests, steep glacier-carved streams, and endless other obstacles, I found myself with no other choice but to turn back after a grueling bushwacking trek that brought me just halfway across Purple Lake along the steep left bank. I thought about climbing up to the ridge, but there was too much snow and without the proper gear (like an ice axe, at least) it would have been too dangerous. While I was backtracking out of the mess I had gotten myself into I noticed some paw prints in the silt-- wolf tracks!

The experience did more for my mind than my body. I came back feeling rejuvenated, humbled, excited about further exploration and learning, and this clear realization that I was indeed content with my life and my surroundings. I felt myself becoming a part of this place, letting go of attachments and surrendering myself to nature. I was no longer trying not to worry about stuff (the future, time, meaningless stuff), I was simply and genuinely free of worry. With that gone I could only see the peace, trust and joy that has always been there (just gets a little hard to recognize sometimes).

So back home safe in my little shack, I slept comfortably listening to the howling wind and rain beating against my windows, waking up to the trembling of my walls that were being pounded by the strong SE winds. I was glad I wasn't in a tent. This fresh energy inspired me to work on some unit plans so that I could finish the school year knowing I put my best effort into teaching these kids. Now that the end of the year is in sight (8 more weeks!), I can push myself harder knowing I will have a nice long summer to rest.

Towards the end of Spring Break I took a quick trip to the Anchorage area. I spent time with my dear friend Eli, helped Katie get her moving arrangements made, and enjoyed the long days and bright sunshine. I even took a road trip up to Talkeetna and got to see Denali! It was a short trip, but a very full and happy one.

San Francisco

My district sent me on an all expense paid trip to San Francisco this February to attend a workshop on teaching hands-on algebra (being the Elementary Math and Science Specialist sure has its perks). I'm not really sure why they sent me on this trip, but I speculate that it had something to do with the contract that was handed to me minutes after getting back to the island. Come to find out, I am now the first Science teacher to return after one year (it's not that bad, really)! Did the trip/bait work? Of course it did!

Somehow my principal knew I was burning out, like one of those campfires that smolders for days on end but never dies. He approached me one afternoon, handed me a brochure and said, "You need to get out of here." Algebra, huh? Well, not exactly something I teach but might as well add it to my repertoire of teaching qualifications, right? I didn't really have to talk myself into it.

Right before I left I was turned on to this thing called Facebook (now I'm banned from it). But anyway, I was able to connect with some long lost friends... one being my friend from Colombia, Leslie, who happened to be living right outside of San Francisco! Of course we met up in the city and had a fabulous time catching up, reminiscing on our childhood days, laughing a lot. It was the highlight of my trip. Oh, and I also had a lot of fun playing algebra (really, I'm not kidding) and hope to someday apply the wisdom that I gained from this little workshop.