Little Voice, Big Message
According to the United Nations Permanent Forum on Indigenous Issues (UNPFII), there are six major challenges impacting Indigenous Student Success today:
- Lack of respect and resources in education systems, causing a critical education gap
- Numerous obstacles to education
- Loss of identity, caught in no man’s land
- Invisible and at risk youth
- Education is often irrelevant
- Despite efforts, there is no solution in foreseeable future
I first read this report when I was researching degree programs two years ago. My initial reaction while reading that was, “I am Indigenous. My son is Indigenous. Is that why I had such a difficult time in school? Is that why my son is having some challenges?”
I was an Indigenous student in Anchorage, Alaska not too long ago. I graduated from high school in 2010. I transferred from a rural school district to an urban school district in primary school. I did not have a single Alaska Native teacher until college.
From birth to age seven, I spent my days playing outside in the woods, picking berries in the tundra, and working hard in the summers with my mom, grandma, and great-grandma. I went to fish camp, picked wild greens, and learned traditional recipes that were passed down through generations. I came from a town where everyone knew my parents, they knew my grandparents, and great-grandparents. I came from a tight-knit community where everyone had an understanding of each other.
In second grade, a HUGE change happened. My family and I moved to Anchorage because my dad got a promotion at the airline he was flying for. I was so excited to see the big city! My mom told me that my school had lots of opportunities for me — even different languages!
When it came time for the first day of school, boy was I nervous. I remember looking at my classmates in the second grade and thinking, “Eeeeli, how come nobody looks like me? How come nobody sounds like me? I’m even dressed differently! Gotchaaaaa. Everyone is talking so fast!”
Even though I had those thoughts, I mustered up the courage to play with classmates and everyone seemed very nice. I just had to learn that they had different jokes than me. Different values than me. They didn’t know the same words as me. We were different.
In third grade, a boy from Togiak joined my class. He was Alaska Native, too. I was happy to finally have somebody there who understood me. He knew exactly what home was like…and we became very good friends. We both had a hard time working on our family trees in fourth grade — it was like we were in it together! The rest of elementary school was fun! I was in IGNITE/the gifted program and Russian Immersion started in third grade — I even started playing the violin.
It wasn’t until middle school that I noticed things started to get a little more challenging for me. I was thankful that most of my elementary school friends came to the same middle school. But I had a whole new set of teachers, I had a whole new principal, and there were a lot more kids. The school was even bigger!
Then, there was that feeling again…I was nervous, and I could feel it in my stomach. I didn’t want to be singled out in any classes by students or teachers. If I had the ability to blend in…I would have. In seventh grade, I remember thinking, “thank goodness I told my mom to get that old navy vest everyone is wearing because now at least my clothes blend in…”
I had gotten a fair share of whale and igloo jokes from other students, but I just chalked it up to the fact that they didn’t know who I was. Middle school was a big transition for me.
Although academically I was succeeding, concerns were still voiced to my parents about my shyness, quietness, sometimes eye contact — the biggest buzzword I heard was classroom participation. I always wondered what that was all about — I was doing the work! I knew the school loved me, cared about me, and wanted the best for me…but I still felt like they didn’t actually know me.
“Is Raquel’s first language English? Does she speak anything else at home?”
They asked what home life was like, and why I was so quiet. At one point there was an assumption I lived in a single parent household. They didn’t ask. We were invited to events and there were always comments about transportation and cost.
Although people were just trying to make a connection with me and my family, there was actually a major disconnect — they didn’t know who I was, even after all of those questions.
In all honesty, as a child, I dreaded parent-teacher conferences year after year because I felt as though assumptions were made about my family and I even before we walked through the door. I felt as though educators were trying their best to connect with me, but I always wondered — do they ask the same weird questions to other kids? It didn’t really seem like it in the classroom…
As an adult, I learned about adverse childhood experiences (ACEs), socio-economic status, the four great deaths of our people, and culturally-responsive practices. I learned that schools were trying to make learning more meaningful to me. I learned that they had data and goals they were trying to monitor and achieve.
Looking back now, the teachers I trusted the most and looked up to knew the power of asking ME questions and holding ME to the same standards as my peers, while taking into consideration I might have different strengths than others. They asked me about my family. They asked me about my hobbies. The key here is they asked.
I’ve carried those feelings with me into adulthood, and my mission in life is to make sure that other Indigenous students feel valued and to aide educators in asking questions and shifting mindsets so they can truly attempt to understand where students are coming from — geographically, culturally, emotionally. My hope is that these efforts will help to reduce those challenges described by the United Nations and to Increase Indigenous Student Success in Alaska and beyond…
As educators, we want the best for students; we care about them and we are kind to them. A majority of educators have taken culturally-responsive courses and follow the practices on a regular basis in hopes of creating a connection to increase engagement.
So what is the disconnect? Where is this cultural gap stemming from? The truth is, just knowing how to be culturally-responsive isn’t enough. We need to have cultural context; we have to take the time to get to know students and their families, their traditions, and unique cultures.
Students are more than data or statistics, more than demographics that pertain to measured goals. Students have unique characteristics, each developed within, from their own experiences and cultures.
So, how can we move forward? Take this opportunity to share your version and understanding of yourself with colleagues and students. Share your own culture, family history, and experience with others so that we can have a more meaningful connection and understanding to check ourselves for assumptions and biases before we get into the classroom.
By doing this, we can help put an end to the never-ending cycle of the Indigenous Education crisis happening in our community, and the world, today.
Raquel Schroeder is an adventurer, creator, and educator in Alaska and Washington State. Her mission is to increase Indigenous Student Success by creating culturally-responsive stories, curricula, and educational resources that are relevant to Alaska Native and American Indian student populations. She provides freelance and contracted services for individuals, businesses, and educational organizations. She has experience with designing events, speaking in front of large crowds + much, much more! Visit www.raquelschroeder.com for more info.
