Continental or Contiguous?

Quick! Is Alaska part of the North American Continent and thus the continental United States?

Yes, it is! If you look at the map of the North American Continent above, you will see that the United States is in green. Way up north next to Canada is Alaska, in green, still part of the continent. 

So, here's a shout out to all of you shippers and businesses out there: Alaska is part of the "continental United States." Yes, we are. Every Alaskan has had the experience of ordering something through a catalogue or online and found that the shipping rate charged, i.e. the rate for the "continental United States," does not include Alaska. Having embarked on many a geographical conversation with people in other parts of the US about what constitutes a continent, I can tell you that there are many murky ideas out there about basic geography in our part of the world. (OK, I admit it - who knew that Greenland is also part of the North American Continent, but come on - Alaska is obvious.)

OK, now let's look at "contiguous," a beautiful word that I should like to use at least once a day. It means the "adjoining 48 states and the District of Columbia."  The map below is the contiguous United States. Obviously, Alaska and Hawaii are not included because they are not connected geographically to the rest. 

So when shippers say that shipping charges are free for the continental US, that gets our hopes up. And then our hopes are dashed when they say that doesn't include Alaska. (It also makes us wild because geography is a pretty straightforward subject and every US citizen should know where all 50 states are...) However, shippers can be geographically pure and even get back in our good graces if they stipulate "free shipping in the contiguous United States," and then we wouldn't get all excited because we would know exactly who gets free shipping and - sigh - who doesn't.  

Anchorage Delight

This comes under the category of "you never know what delight will be waiting for you." A colleague and I had just finished presenting a workshop to artists and teachers - always such a pleasure to be with creative people - and emerged after two days to see this on the Delaney Park Strip in Anchorage. Even though we felt tired, we were also curious, and so walked over the still frozen grass and joined in.

Everything about it was irresistible. The color against the sky and the way it billowed and changed and the glimpses of people underneath all propelled us closer.

Even though the breeze was slight, it pulled the yellow nylon out of our fingers. And then as the pressure from underneath grew stronger, it started pulling apart the sections of the huge piece of nylon that were held together by Velcro. Instead of marveling at how it all looked, we went into repair mode and started working together to press the Velcro seams back together. You can see in the picture below how it is ripping apart. Once one seam went, it weakened the other in a chain reaction. A good metaphor for what can happen in a community.

Once we had gotten it back together, I had to get inside to feel it. I was surprised by the amount of pressure it exerted on my head - the flimsy light nylon felt very heavy.

We could have dallied there for a long time, but we had to get to the airport. As we were leaving, I took a photo of the people in the cherry picker far above who were filming it all. By the way, I asked several people what was happening. "Don't know - some art project, I guess," someone said. 

Since our workshop had been on community engagement, seeing this event reminded us that people want to do things together, that real community is built through shared experience, and that all ages having fun with each other is good for everyone, and that the world is full of beauty and delight.

The Arts In Juneau

We breathe the arts in Juneau. Where else in a town of 32,000 would you find two symphony orchestras, a big band, two opera companies, two professional theaters, a community theater, Tlingit dance groups, more authors and painters than you can shake a stick at, a dance company, an annual weeklong folk music festival, and an annual jazz and classics festival? And there is more. I wonder how it can all happen. Just last weekend, I attended some of the monthly First Friday events - galleries and cafes and shops exhibit photography and paintings and jewelry by local artists and book signings by local authors while the city and state museums hosted new exhibits. The mood was playful and curious and happy. In Holy Trinity Episcopal Church, I want to a reception for the installation of paintings that had been sent away to be cleaned right before the church burned to the ground. Now in the newly rebuilt church, they have been brought back, the only things left - it felt quite miraculous to see the very old paintings, restored and evoking the spirit of the venerable old church.

Afterwards, I walked down the street to witness four actors doing a short play in the display window of The Canvas, a community art studio. It was the first time anyone had ever tried it. And for the most part, it worked - except that the windows kept steaming up. The crowd loved it - art flourishes in an encouraging environment.

Lest you think that Alaska fosters only certain kinds of art, think again. We are very big into stuffed and mounted trophies too. I think we go a long way to welcome personal expression. It makes for a very lively place to live.

Alaskans Choose Respect

I attended the Alaskans Choose Respect Rally at the Capitol on Thursday, March 31. Usually, I attend political rallies there. This time, it wasn't a political rally. It was instead a cultural rally, a rally to change the culture in our state around domestic violence and sexual abuse. We have extremely high rates of domestic violence and sexual assault in Alaska and from the start, Governor Parnell has made it a priority in his administration.

At the rally, Dr. Walter Soboleff spoke from his wheelchair. One hundred and three years old, a Presbyterian minister and Tlingit Elder, he spoke briefly about how respect has always been a part of Tlingit cultute, not only respect for people but for creatures, land and water. It made me think of the current tragedy playing out in Japan where the water is being poisoned by radiation, and how that is not only disrespectful to the water, but also to the air, the fish, and the people affected by it.

His grandson, Sgt. Chris Burke, also spoke from the perspective of his work as a 15-year veteran as a Juneau Police Officer and, one would assume, many calls of distress. I liked what he said about the police not causing trouble, but "creating peace."

Although it was cold and wet, the group marched down Main Street to Marine Park to finish the rally. Lots of umbrellas out that day.

Although Alaskans are a diverse group of people, ethnically and politically and every other way, I'd venture to say that we share an appreciation, maybe even reverence for this land and for the animals, and now we have the potential to share something else: feelings of respect that could become reverence for all that surrounds us.

Signs of Spring

On a flight last week to Anchorage, this is what I saw: hundreds of miles of ice fields. Doesn't look much like spring, does it? And yet, it is spring in Alaska. Ice is melting, temperatures are rising (51 degrees yesterday in Juneau in the sun) and down jackets are disappearing. I am (desperately) looking for signs of spring. I noticed one a few days downtown. Here is a photo of it:

I took this photograph on South Franklin Street, looking up towards Mount Juneau in the background. Puzzled? A simple truck, you might say, loaded with some kind of materials. What does this have to do with spring?

Take a closer look. This red truck is carrying wooden pallets that are used for transporting freight. They are ubiquitous here. And they are used by young people for bonfires on the beach, a sure sign of spring. Stacked up, they produce a magnificent blaze. Although their use is discouraged because of the nails and staples left behind, young people are taking heed and cleaning up after bonfires.

I found another sign of spring today that couldn't be photographed because it is a sound, not a sight. It was the symphony of bird song that followed me as I walked along the Kaxdegoowu Heen Dei (Clear Water Creek Trail) next to the Mendenhall River. The tiny birds - so many of them - hopped from branch to branch, and it seemed they vied for the loudest sound. You can't see them in this photo, but they were there, reassuring me that spring really is here.

Taku Winds, Formerly Known as Hell Winds

Severe weather is a fact of life in Southeast Alaska. Storm surges, dense fog, heavy snow, dangerous ice, heavy rainfall, high winds.... we endure some extreme weather conditions here. For my money, the winner is - the Taku Winds! We all can tell grim stories of being blown off our feet or being hit by flying debris. The capricious Takus can be dangerous in the air and on the water. And they cause irritation - extreme irritation depending on how long they blow. And they have been blowing for weeks now! Like the Twinkie defense, I believe the Taku Winds could be a viable defense in court. And until now, no one has seen the positive side of the hurricane force gusts - 72 mph or greater -  that keep us shivering inside for days at a time. A young student from University of Alaska Southeast, Ryan Cortes Perez, experienced the wind and responded with the largest wind chimes I have ever seen.

He strung them between two old pilings left from the days when the Treadwell Mine was running on Douglas Island. You can see from this photo how venerable these pilings are.

Even the way he installed the heavy logs with rope and wire is beautiful, simple and clean. I love the way the rigging looks.

And now all of us can enjoy his take on the hell winds because instead of being driven to mayhem, he was driven to creativity.

Wearable Art Show in Juneau

Every year, the Wearable Art Show knocks everyone's socks off. This year - the eleventh! - was no exception. So many aspects of this creative output astonishes me. 

It isn't just the work itself - the extraordinary labor that goes into the clothing. The beadwork in this outfit - top and bottom - took five solid months to complete. Look at it. The skirt is made entirely of bugle beads!

Nor is it the playful thought that underlays what people create. The theme of this year's show was "Illuminate." And this ethereal angel is made entirely out of the pages of "rational" science books.

And it isn't even the inventiveness that takes our collective breath away. In this ensemble, Alaskan Brewing Company beer bottle caps cover her bustier, cuffs, crown and although you can't see it, her lighted back piece.

It is all of these aspects of the show that make it extraordinary plus a playfulness that these young people have in spades in their duct tape underwear.

One of the best parts of the show is its inclusiveness. It is an all ages show. And when you encourage young people to use their creative gifts in a way that affirms them by the whole community, you have a place where everyone can flourish.