Longtime educator and coach Gil Truitt speaks after receiving the President’s Lifetime Achievement Award during a Central Council of Tlingit and Haida Indian Tribes of Alaska fundraiser on April 19. Seven others were also honored. (Photo courtesy Tlingit & Haida)

Gil Truitt spent 34 years teaching and coaching mostly Alaska Native students at Sitka’s Mount Edgecumbe High School. He’s been called a legend who helped raise a generation of leaders and culture bearers.

Now, he’s received the highest form of recognition given by the state’s largest tribal government.

Gil Truitt was so much a part of life at the public boarding school that he was known as “Mr. Mount Edgecumbe.”

He decided to become a teacher while attending the school in the 1940s. He took some time off, then went to college to study education.

Central Council of Tlingit and Haida Indian Tribes of Alaska President Richard Chalyee Éesh Peterson picks up the story from there.

“Dr. Truitt returned to his longtime hometown of Sitka, Alaska, to fulfill his dream of giving back to his community, to Mount Edgecumbe High School and students. He not only gave his time to the school, but exemplified courtesy, commitment, sportsmanship, quality and professionalism to the students and his coworkers,” he said.

Peterson presented Truitt with the President’s Lifetime Achievement Award during an April 19 ceremony in Juneau. It was part of the organization’s 83rd annual tribal assembly.

Watch the language fundraiser and awards ceremony.

The recognition is one of many Truitt has received during his career and subsequent retirement. He responded with appreciation.

“A person does not become a teacher for recognition, to become rich or to become popular. But believe me, when those recognitions come, it is worth every second, every hour, every year that a dedicated teacher will spend with the young people,” he said.

Truitt was one of eight tribal citizens honored at the President’s Award Banquet. It raised more than $36,000 to support the central council’s language initiatives.

DonnaRae James is executive director of CAlaska Culture, which brings together Alaskan Natives living in Northern California to learn and practice their traditional culture. She was named an everyday hero for being a culture bearer. (Photo courtesy Tlingit & Haida)

DonnaRae James was named an everyday hero for being a culture bearer and organizing and leading traditional-skills workshops in Northern California.

“For me to use my hands to create in much of the same way as my ancestors did helps to ground me in my life as well as my culture. I’m honored to teach others the skills I have and I feel that it brings our ancestors forward each time I share knowledge,” she said.

Others honored as everyday heroes included emerging leader Eva Rowan, inspiring educator Ronnie Fairbanks, language warrior Ben Young, youth mentor Barbara Dude and Barbara Franks for holding each other up.

Read biographies of the award winners.

Nancy Barnes was recognized as an important tribal ally. She’s a dance leader and longtime legislative staffer who’s been involved in language revitalization and other cultural and political work.

Barnes was named as an ally because she is Tsimshian and Alutiiq, not Tlingit or Haida. But she said all share similar goals.

“As someone once said, we’re all in this canoe together. We have many of the same issues and we should always help each other. We are strong when we come together and lift each other up,” she said.

Nancy Barnes addresses an April 19 fundraising banquet after being honored as a tribal ally by Central Council of Tlingit and Haida Indian Tribes of Alaska President Richard Chalyee Éesh Peterson. (Photo courtesy Tlingit & Haida)

The Sealaska Heritage Institute plans to turn this downtown Juneau parking lot into a Native artists’ park and market. (Photo by Ed Schoenfeld/CoastAlaska News)

A major Southeast cultural organization plans to create a Native arts market and park in the region. That, and an advanced education initiative, are part of an effort to boost the region’s traditional arts economy.

A downtown Juneau parking lot is slated to be turned into a Native artists’ park.

Sealaska Heritage Institute President Rosita Worl said it will include totems and other large art objects, plus a tribal house.

“It would look like a tribal house, but it would be enclosed,” she said. “It would be an area where the artists can carve monumental art, as well as other art forms.”

The park is part of the institute’s multi-pronged effort to encourage, promote and sell Native art from Southeast Alaska. It’s branding the style as Northwest Coast Art.

Sealaska Heritage Institute President Rosita Worl is promoting a Native arts initiative in Southeast Alaska.  (Photo by Lakeidra Chavis/KTOO)

“Northwest Coast Art is developed around what we call formline and there are basic components that you have to master,” she said. “It’s a whole different art scheme than drawing naturalistic forms.”

Another part of the effort is an education initiative to develop Tlingit and Haida artists’ skills.

Sealaska Heritage Institute Senior Research Fellow Rick Harris said it starts with a two-year program at the University of Alaska Southeast, which already offers formline design courses.

Harris, a retired Sealaska Corp. vice president, said graduates could continue studies at New Mexico’s Institute of American Indian Arts, which offers degrees in writing, museum studies and studio arts.

“The idea is for students to be able to come to UAS, learn and be skilled and become experienced in Northwest Coast design and then actually be able to go to Santa Fe and to capture some of the additional benefits that they have been able to develop through their Indian arts program,” he said.

The three organizations signed a memorandum of agreement in November.

The Northwest Coast Arts Initiative also would push for federal recognition for formline design and funding to expand its programs.

The initiative is in its early stages.

Haida artist Robert Davidson’s formline design panel “Greatest Echo” adorns the front of the Walter Soboleff Building. (Photo by Elizabeth Jenkins/KTOO)

Worl, also a Sealaska Corp. board member, said the Juneau arts park and market would cost $7 million to $8 million, including moving parking underground. It also hasn’t yet sought needed building permits.

The university and Indian arts programs would also have significant expenses.

She said it’s worth pursuing.

“What you’ve got to do is take yourself out of Northwest Coast Art and look at it in context of art throughout the world. And then you begin to see how unique and how different it is from other art forms,” she said.

Sealaska Heritage Institute already built the Walter Soboleff Center, which was completed about two years ago. It has archives, a theater, a store and exhibits in a building across the street from the proposed arts park.

Sealaska Corp. President and CEO Anthony Mallott said this will be phase two.

“Adding an outside park where artists are more engaged with the visitors or with residents of Southeast Alaska is a vision that has been put forward and we’ll continue to find ways to see if we can make it work,” he said.

The term Northwest Coast Art also refers to similar work from Coastal British Columbia and Washington state. But Worl said her institute’s efforts will focus on Southeast Alaska.

Presiding Judge Debra O’Gara discusses tribal justice  in the Juneau courtroom of the Central Council of Tlingit and Haida Indian Tribes of Alaska. (Photo by Ed Schoenfeld/CoastAlaska News)

Southeast Alaska’s largest tribal court operation just celebrated its 10th anniversary.

It started with child support and paternity cases and branched out to include domestic violence protection orders, custody disputes and adoptions. Now, it’s planning to further expand the kind of cases it handles.

Presiding Judge Debra O’Gara opens a hearing in the Central Council of Tlingit and Haida Indian Tribes of Alaska’s courtroom.

It follows a set procedure, but is less formal than state or federal courts. O’Gara sits at the bench and wears a black robe. But both are decorated with the council’s Eagle-Raven formline design logo.

She said the Juneau-based court has between 900 and 1,000 open cases. They involve some of the council’s approximately 30,000 members in Southeast, the rest of Alaska, the Pacific Northwest and elsewhere.

“We firmly believe that tribal members are more likely to come into court when the court is their own tribal court. And it’s their own tribal laws that are being implemented,” she said.

The Andrew Hope Building in downtown Juneau is home to the Central Council of Tlingit and Haida Indian Tribes’ courtroom. (Photo by Ed Schoenfeld/CoastAlaska News)

The Central Council’s Tribal Assembly authorized the court in 1989, but it took a while before operations began.

It started out handling a short list of cases and related services. But that’s expanded, with grants, interagency agreements and new ideas.

One major focus is developing systems for young offenders, as well as those at risk of getting into trouble. That includes an early diversion program, which offers counseling and tutoring while encouraging involvement with extended family and cultural activities.

“If we don’t intervene early, the youth are more likely to end up committing crimes or getting into trouble and getting into the justice system,” she said.

About a year ago, the Central Council signed an agreement with the state giving it authority over some foster care and other services for Native children facing abuse or neglect.

Council Director of Family and Youth Services Francine Eddy Jones said only a few cases have been transferred so far. But they have potential.

“They’re coming into tribal court, but they’re also seeing familiar faces in terms of tribal caseworkers working with them to identify what they need to be working on,” she said.

“Our goal is always to support the families and see if we can move toward reunification,” Eddy Jones added.

The National Council of Juvenile and Family Court Judges is supporting the tribal justice program.

It recently chose Tlingit-Haida’s court as one of six nationwide to be studied and given expert advice. O’Gara said the scrutiny will help.

“It’s not any funding. But what we get is we get them to come out. They’re going to look at our system, they’re going to look at our codes, they’re going to meet our staff, they’re going to look at our procedures,” she said.

A team visited in February and its report is expected soon.

About 85 percent of the tribal court’s cases involve child support. But it has plans for further expansion. If funding becomes available, O’Gara said it will begin taking some criminal cases.

Central Council President Richard Peterson said those found at fault will be held accountable.

“We’re not trying to get some free pass for people. But we’re trying to make it so they are dealt with compassionately enough that they’re given a chance to right their wrongs,” he said.

O’Gara said there’s already an agreement with the state court system to make sentencing recommendations in some cases involving tribal members.

She said she hopes to begin what’s called “circle sentencing” soon. But cultural programs and other support services need to be put in place first.

The Central Council’s tribal court is one of several in Southeast Alaska. Others operate throughout the state.

Editor’s note: Debra O’Gara is a member of KTOO’s board of directors.

The Central Council of Tlingit and Haida Indian Tribes of Alaska plans a constitutional convention April 19-21 in Juneau. (Photo by Ed Schoenfeld/CoastAlaska News)

The Central Council of Tlingit and Haida Indian Tribes of Alaska will hold a constitutional convention at this spring’s tribal assembly.

Delegates representing the Central Council’s more than 30,000 tribal members will meet April 19-21 at Elizabeth Peratrovich Hall, Juneau.

Will Micklin, council second vice president, chairs the committee preparing for the convention.

“(We’re) trying to imbue what began as very utilitarian documents that are very brief and speak only to broad authority and try to imbue that with an expression of our culture and our ways of life,” he said.

Like other federally funded organizations, the council expects challenges maintaining its programs. Micklin said inflation also is driving up costs. He hopes constitutional changes can encourage efficiencies.

He said the changes should also help increase involvement.

“We’re looking to put actionable information in the hands of our assembly members for longer periods prior to the opening of our tribal assembly so that they can review, consult with their communities and have a more deliberative period before we actually have to take action,” he said.

The constitutional convention was called at last year’s tribal assembly by Central Council President Richard Peterson.

The council lists 21 registered communities. Most are in Southeast, but they include Anchorage, San Francisco and Seattle.

Alfie Price, sixth from the right, poses with family and friends after he was honored as a language warrior during a Nov. 22, 2016, awards ceremony. (Photo courtesy Central Council of Tlingit and Haida Indian Tribes of Alaska)

What makes a modern warrior? According to Southeast Alaska’s largest tribal organization, it’s someone who fights to preserve subsistence rights or Native languages. And it’s those who work for clean water or care for other people’s children.

Alfie Price co-leads a Tsimshian language practice group in Juneau. He’s also learning the Tlingit and Haida languages.

But when he accepted an award naming him a Warrior for Protecting our Languages, he spoke in Eyak, a Prince William Sound Native language that’s considered extinct.

“I just wanted this room full of people to hear a few words of Eyak tonight,” he said.

Miciana Hutcherson speaks after being named Warrior for Protecting Our Sacred Lands and Waters at a recent ceremony. (Photo courtesy CCTHITA)

Price is one of four people or families named as modern warriors by the Central Council of Tlingit and Haida Indian Tribes of Alaska during a recent celebration in Juneau.

Price, who is also Tlingit, talked about the process of learning the language of his Tsimshian ancestors.

“An unexpected side effect of learning Sm’algyax especially is I feel my own healing. The hurts and the things that made me bitter in my life are falling away. They’re becoming light on my shoulders” he said.

At the ceremony, Miciana Hutcherson was named Warrior for Protecting Our Sacred Lands and Waters.

Hutcherson is an activist who joined the Standing Rock Sioux protesting construction of the Dakota Access Pipeline. She said the campaign’s motto, “Water is Life,” is also important in her Tlingit homeland.

That includes protecting transboundary rivers from industrial development on the Canadian side of the border.

“We’re standing up for our inherent rights in a way that we’ve never seen before. We’re giving our kids and future generations something to be proud of and ensuring that we’ll leave something behind tangible for them to hold onto and that’s each other” she said.

Also honored was Harold Martin, named Warrior for Protecting Our Traditional Harvesting Rights.

The longtime central council subsistence director led numerous efforts to continue or preserve traditional harvests of seals, otters and other marine life.

Martin, a former logger, stressed the importance of secondary schooling.

Harold Martin was named Warrior for Protecting Our Traditional Harvesting Rights. (Photo courtesy CCTHITA)

“Education opens all kinds of doors. It’s never too late to go back to school. I was 40 years old when we decided to go back to school in 1974. And I was able to go to work and still retire” he said.

Veronica and Mike Hoyle were named Warriors for Caring for Our Children.

Surrounded by his large family, Mike Hoyle talked about fostering kids and taking responsibility to raise them.

“We never had any thoughts of adopting. We just wanted to do the right thing, when people need a place to sleep. You just look out for your family” he said.

The honors were presented at a Nov. 22 Native American Heritage Month Celebration. Organizers said those recognized represented many other tribal citizens who also go above and beyond to advocate, protest and protect.

Watch the celebration program, which begins about 48 minutes into the video. 

Tommy Joseph feels the warm water after the batch of lava rocks are taken out. (KCAW Photo/Emily Russell)

To transform a hollowed-out log into a dugout canoe requires more than expert carving — it requires steam, and lots of it. Earlier this week the skies over Eagle Beach in Sitka were filled with smoke and steam, as a carving team worked to transform a cedar dugout into an elegant, seaworthy canoe.

Downloadable audio.

David Katzeek sings and drums alongside the nearly 30- foot long canoe and it’s five-man carving crew. The men stomp their feet to the beat.

The steaming on Sitka’s Eagle Beach attracted friends and family of the carvers along with Park Service employees. (KCAW Photo/Emily Russell)

Katzeek is a Tlingit leader originally from Klukwan. He traveled down from Juneau for the canoe steaming. Tlingit, Haida, and Tsimshian people have carved canoes for generations. They fought wars and fished rivers from those canoes. Today, the vessel– it’s more of a symbol, but Katzeek says it’s still significant.

“A canoe is not just a vessel that goes over water,” Katzeek explains. “It represents a people’s  journey in life– the journey that we started thousands upon thousands of years ago, and we’re still here on that journey. We are not gone. We are not lost.”

Sealaska Heritage Institute teamed up with Sitka National Historical Park to preserve the  tradition, bringing in master carver Steve Brown to train four apprentice carvers– T.J. Young, Jerrod and Nicholas Galanin, and Tommy Joseph.

After Katzeek offers an invocation, Joseph walks down to a water pump on the beach.

Fire hoses fill the canoe with about 10 inches of seawater. Two bonfires on either side heat up football-sized lava rocks.

Jerrod Galanin gets help lowering a basket of hot lava rocks into the canoe. (KCAW Photo/Emily Russell)

“Here in about an hour when these rocks are red hot we’ll start filling the baskets up and put them inside the canoe,” Joseph explains. “We have a big tarp to cover the whole thing.”

The idea, Joseph says, is to let the heat and pressure from the steam widen the canoe, making it sturdier.

“The boat, right now as it sits, it’s a beautiful boat, but it’s not seaworthy, it would be real tippy,” he says. “We’re going to get about 14 to 16 inches wider by steaming the boat.”

‘It softens the wood and makes it so that it will be a seaworthy boat,” Joseph adds. “It will be near impossible to flip over.”

The process is long, but the fires are warm and the mood is light among the friends and family and the park service staff. They’ve all gathered to watch.

Carvers rake back the embers to reveal the heated lava rocks, which they’ll shovel into the metal baskets. (KCAW Photo/Emily Russell)

Every hour or so hour, the men rake away embers from the fire and shovel three or four hot rocks into metal baskets. Those baskets are then slowly placed inside the canoe.

Clouds of steam and smoke fill the air. A huge green tarp covers the canoe and the steam gets to work. Jerrod Galanin, one of the apprentice carvers, peeks inside.

“I’m just listening to see if it’s boiling still, if it’s active, if we need to replace the rocks. Put your ear in there and listen,” Galanin urges.

So, I do. It pops and fizzes like a freshly-poured glass of soda. When the fizzing dies down, it’s time to take the tarp off and put in a fresh batch of hot rocks.

Master carver Steve Brown oversaw the steaming, while Jerrod Galanin takes a look under the tarp. (KCAW Photo/Emily Russell)

I’m standing next to Steve Brown. He’s the master carver Sealaska and the park brought up from Washington.

“There have been canoes we’ve made in Ketchikan, Wrangell, Glacier Bay, Hoonah, Klukwan,” Brown explains. “Did I say Wrangell already?”

Brown is not Alaska Native, but his knowledge and dedication to the craft have won him wide respect among Native people from the region. This knowledge can’t be passed on in books. Steaming a canoe is equal parts art and science.

“It will be significantly bigger than it was,” Brown explains. “The ends will be higher, the bottom will be flat– right now the bottom arches up– and the sides will not only bend outward, but they’ll also be down lower too. So, it radically changes shape.”

After an entire day of steaming, the canoe is 16 inches wider.

The canoe explained by more than 16 inches after the steaming. (KCAW Photo/Emily Russell)

Tlingit leader David Katzeek says the vessel isn’t the last thing that changes shape. He’s heard back from men after their first time on the water who say there’s something spiritual about being in a traditionally crafted canoe.

“They’ll come up teary eyed, with smiles on their face and saying, ‘Something happened to me when I was out there on the water with all the others. My life has changed. My life will never be the same.'”

After the canoe dries, the carving team with paint it red and black- traditional Tlingit and Haida colors. A dedication ceremony is planned for next spring.

Downloadable audio.

Documentary filmmaker Ellen Frankenstein was joined by master weaver and Haida elder Delores Churchill, who is the subject of her latest documentary Tracing Roots: A Weaver’s Story.

They will be screening the documentary tomorrow (07-01-15) from noon to 1 p.m. Wednesday, July 1, in the Pioneers Home Chapel. Attendees may bring their lunches.

Tracing Roots  follows Delores Churchill on a journey to understand the origins of a spruce root hat found with Kwäday Dän Ts’ìnchi, the Long Ago Person Found, a 300-year-old traveler discovered in Northern Canada in a retreating glacier. The film raises questions about the meaning of connection, knowledge and ownership.

Churchill is nearing completion of a beginning Northwest Coast basketry class at the University of Alaska this summer.

Frankenstein is also creating a study guide based on the film, which will eventually air on PSB. She invites Sitkans to organize local screenings of the film. She can be reached at efclicks@gmail.com.

An insect-infested house post is prepared for heat treatment to kill carpenter ants. (Organized Village of Kasaan)

A nearly-half-million-dollar grant will speed restoration of Alaska’s oldest Haida longhouse. The structure was first built 130 years ago.

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Haida Chief Son-i-Hat built the original longhouse in the 1880s at the village of Kasaan. It’s on the eastern side of Southeast’s Prince of Wales Island, about 30 miles northwest of Ketchikan.

Scaffolding allows repairs to the Kasaan Whale House smokehole, which was damaged by rot. (Organized Village of Kasaan.)

It was called Naay I’waans, The Great House. Many know it as The Whale House, for some of the carvings inside.

It deteriorated, as wooden buildings in the rain forest do. The Civilian Conservation Corps, a depression-era employment program, rebuilt it in the late 1930s.

Now, the house badly needs repair again.

“It’s a matter of our cultural revitalization, showing that we’re still here and part of these lands,” says Richard Peterson, president of the Tribal Council for the Organized Village of Kasaan.

The tribal government is partnering with the Native village corporation Kavilco, and its cultural arm, the Kasaan Haida Heritage Foundation.

“A lot of the building is still in really good condition. Some of the supports are what’s failing. I think we’re fortunate enough that we don’t need a total reconstruction, so we want to maintain as much as we can,” Peterson says.

Read more about the effort.

The roof of Kasaan’s Chief Son-i-Hat House, also known as the Whale House, is covered by a tarp during repair work. (Organized Village of Kasaan.)

An analysis by Juneau-based MRV Architects estimated full repairs would cost more than $2 million. A scaled-back plan totaled about $1.4 million. It listed several phases to be completed as funds came in.

And they have. In late November, the Anchorage-based Rasmuson Foundation awarded the project $450,000. Peterson says that, plus funds from the tribal government and its partners, is about enough to complete the work.

“So right now, we’re milling up the logs and they’re going to hand-adz all of the timbers. And we’re just going in and starting to secure up some of the corners that are dropping down. It’s been a really exciting project,” Peterson says.

The effort to stabilize the longhouse has been underway for around two years. But it picked up speed last summer.

The lead carver is Stormy Hamar, who is working with apprentices Eric Hamar, his son, and Harley Bell-Holter. Others volunteer.

Peterson says it’s an all-ages effort.

“The great part is these young kids that are getting involved. And it’s across the lines. Native, non-Native, it doesn’t matter. There’s been a real interest by the youth there,” Peterson says.

Work continues through the winter. Peterson says the focus now is repairing or replacing structural elements so the longhouse doesn’t collapse.

The Whale House is already attracting attention. Independent travelers drive the 17-mile dirt road that starts near Thorne Bay. And Sitka-based Alaska Dream Cruises also stops in Kasaan, where the house is on the list of sights to see.

“Because it’s off-site, you’re not going to see any modern technology. There’s no cars driving by. You can really see how our people lived 200 years ago and experience that and look at those totems in a natural setting,” Peterson says. “It wasn’t put there for a park. This is how it was. And I think people really appreciate that.”

Without too many surprises, Peterson hopes work can be completed in around two years.

Then, he says, the tribe will host a celebration like the one Wrangell leaders put on last year when they finished the Chief Shakes Tribal House.