Teachers in the north

The link below comes courtesy of Greg and Kristan, two teachers at Iglulik high school. They are in their second year teaching in Iglulik and have been recording some of their experiences in their own blog. Needless to say, you can get a much better picture of life in Iglulik from their posts than you can from my limited visit there. Thanks Greg and Kristan! The whole staff at the high school was extremely friendly and welcoming during my visit and I am excited about our opportunity to plan an exchange together that will benefit students in both communities and cultures. A joint techno supported Iglulik HS/SES faculty meeting -- now that would be something!

www.gregmaclachlan.blogspot.com

Iglulik - Essential questions in a treeless land

The first thing one notices flying into Iglulik is what you don't see. Namely trees, or vegetation of any sort for that matter. Many of us have backpacked in alpine environments and hiked above the treeline; a treeless environment that is primarily the product of altitude and the ecological cascade of system characteristics that elevation creates. For me however, this trip has been my first trip to an area that is treeless not as a function of altitude but of latitude. Coming from a forested environment, it is disconcerting at first, not unlike being on a prairie and finding yourself somewhat uncomfortable, subconsciously searching for a landmark or reference point, just in case you might need one. I have not spent much time here, but I would guess that, much like a prairie, the "sameness" a novice sees is replaced over time by subtleties and nuances that reveal themselves to the experienced eye.

The second thing that struck me was the innate sense the culture in general seems to have for focusing on what is essential. Those of us in education remember the heyday of Heidi Hughes-Jacobs and essential questions in curriculum. I may be oversimplifying here, but my memory of her main premise is that curriculum should be built around content, skills, and experiences that all contribute to understanding and answering identified essential questions. I have always thought of it as planful prioritizing of what you need to do and what you need let go. My first impression is that the Inuit culture seems to have a hardwired ability to innately know what they need to do and what they don't. This ability is most likely embedded in their close ties to the land and in the practical nature that comes with surviving and thriving in a harsh environment. So fish hang drying under the front deck and the snowmobile gets fixed before the house gets a fresh coat of paint. One gets the sense that the culture as a whole would be amused at how much time we spend tending the aesthetics of our lawns. Of course grass doesn't grow here. At least not yet.

Fogged In

Weather has delayed my travel in Iqaluit. At the airport yesterday, the message board informing passengers of the flight cancellation read, "Flight 822 cancelled due to bad weather on both ends." At least it was consistent. I spent part of last night talking to the math and science curriculum coordinator for Nunavut. He said a person gets used to the weather causing changes in plans. They have a country wide professional development week later in the school year with meetings and trainings scheduled in different locations and he said that inevitably some weather event sends them scrambling to alter schedules and accomodate cancelled flights. To my non-pilot eye things do not look much better this morning but I am hopeful things will clear enough for me to get to Iglulik today.

Thoughts on Iqaluit

I am experimenting with ipod recording this trip. Here is a conversation I had with an Iqaluit high school student.

Iqaluit

Iqaluit is the capital of Nunavut, a growing town with a frontier feel. Coming into Iqaluit, you fly down the length of Frobisher Bay and land, as my companions in Row 15 told me, on a runway long enough to bring home the space shuttle. Like most of the towns on Baffin Island it is strategically place both along the water and near water; the ocean for hunting, transportation, and commerce, and a freshwater source for drinking water. It is growing quickly. High school students remember a time when the population was half the six thousand residents it is today. What issues do you think have accompanied this growth spurt? One could compare Iqaluit to many fast growing communities they know of and deduce many of the challenges. Yet Iqaluit is uniquely positioned, both geographically and culturally, compared to other fast growing communities. What issues, unique to Iqaluit and its "place" in the arctic, might arise from this rapid development?

By my count there are five schools here, a high school, middle school, two elementaries, and a french school. One of the elementary schools is relatively new, replacing one that was destroyed by fire a few years back, and the middle school is in "under construction" mode. Those of you who have taught or learned in a similar setting can likely relate to the craziness and stress of trying to carry on as normal when things simply are not. I made some very promising school connections yesterday and hope to make more this morning and again on Friday when I return from Iglulik.

Explore Nunavut!

I have arrived in Nunavut, a new land and a new country for me. On the plane flying here, I got to thinking about how I engage a place for the first time, and considered how I had changed over time in this regard. One's personality comes into play, as do education and experience. But are there any strategies common to us all or are we all as different as stones on the beach when it comes to interacting with a new place? How we answer, or perhaps more accurately how well we explore this question, would seem to have field study related implications and opportunities for students and staff alike.

What do you do? Have your approaches changed the more you have traveled? What would you do if you were me right now?

Every fact wears a disguise

I remember seeing these pictures for the first time. I don't know the context in which they were taken but I do remember being surprised by them. They did not fit my constructs of how things work in the north. I cannot vouch for their authenticity, but at the very least they help to remind me that practicing the disciplined habit of being open in settings that are personally novel and new can lead to understandings that are not (just) what you thought they'd be, but what they really are. I fly to Iqaluit tomorrow, my first experiential interaction with Baffin Island. I hope that I can heed my own advice.