"During my visits to Chenega, I heard people criticize one another's commitment to traditional values along with many other bad things they said about one other. Bitter grudges and resentment seemed to lie just below the surface, directed against neighbors seen every day, fellow villagers with more in common than most of us have with our extended families.

I'm not repeating what I heard, because I don't want to make matters worse. Besides, the causes are too old and complex to sort out -- Chenega has been through so much, with its historic traumas, the earthquake that killed a third of the population, the oil spill that spoiled traditional foods and relationships, and the changes in culture, with the village's division into the corporation, traditional council, and non-profit organizations, the associated elections and so on, and the disagreements over oil spill money and land sales.

Carol Ann Kompkoff, whose father saw two daughters slip away in the tsunami but kept the strength to be the village's Moses and bring his people back to Prince William Sound -- even Carol Ann said she felt lonely in the village at times, because she'd been sober since the oil spill and it could be socially uncomfortable to visit hard-drinking friends and neighbors.

In a human community, as in an ecosystem, there is no rewind function. What's lost is lost, and hope lies in creating healthy relationships that are new. The grief must die for the next generation to rise.

Sandy Angiak's sons James and Ian impressed me by trading Alutiiq words and showing off the carvings and other cultural objects they had made on many visits to cultural education camps at Tatitlek and Nuchek. Sandy taught traditional dance at the school. At the session I watched she sat back and let the young people lead themselves, with James, a high school senior, guiding those around him with a stern, serious voice."

Get the Story:
Charles Wohlforth: Chenega wrestles with complexities of past and future (The Anchorage Daily News 6/10)