Child Molestation, final piece

So at school I started to be mad at everyone and never wanted to do anything. We were walking in line to the gym one day and I did not want to go. The teacher aide was like come on , why are you being so slow? At that point I remembered being taught about "good touch, bad touch" so I busted out crying and told her. She mocked me. She repeated what I said with a sneer and with high pitched whiny voice and said hurry up. I never spoke up again.
Soon we were brought to Seattle to be reunited with our parents, and I never told my father. I often thought of him beating my sister's boyfriend almost to death and for some reason did not want him to do the same to my uncle.
As the years go by I continue keeping this inside. I would only wear clothes that were wayyy too big for me. I would not let my mother fix my hair. I did NOT want to be attractive in any way. Before I would go to sleep at night, I would surround myself with chairs and other big objects so that I could hear if anyone came near me.
In the fourth grade, I started to get very sick, I would throw up every time I ate, my stomach was always hurting. I lost about 15 pounds on my already tiny body. My parents kept bringing me to the hospital in Bethel, and the doctors always said the same thing. I was faking it. One day I threw up dark thick blood, so my parents pooled up enough money to take me to Anchorage. While there I got an endoscopy and it was discovered that I had bleeding ulcers. The doctor knew right away and brought me to a room and asked me point blank. I broke out in tears and did not say anything still.
I was given medication that helped, and sent back home.
As the years go by, I am told by other relatives that the same uncle was doing the same things to them. This infuriated me as I was the oldest cousin.
Soon at 17 I was ready to go off to college. I start thinking, I'm never coming back anyways, and I called up the Alaska State Troopers and speak up. I tell them everything, including what he is doing to my cousins. After I spoke up, some of my cousins also told. Other's did not.
About a week later, I stopped at my Grandmother's house and my uncle was standing there reading his indictment. He yelled at me, "why did you say these things about me? I'm going to go to jail for a long time!" I yelled back, "cause that's what you did to me you sick fuck! Your ass was probably even too drunk to remember!" Then my Grandmother came out of her room and yelled at me too. Saying that we shouldn't say those things about family members, we should always keep the peace. I stormed out mad and hurt as ever. How could my grandmother think that this was OK? I soon leave off for college. My Grandmother and I don't speak for years. About two years after my uncle was arrested and convicted, he had the fucking nerve to call me. He told me that if I didn't forgive him I was going to go to hell. I also got a Christmas card from him, telling me that he confessed his sins to God and that if I forgive him it was a sin. WTF?!?
But I felt a new sense of freedom knowing that he was paying for what he did, not only to me, but for what he did to my younger relatives as well. I felt empowered. At about 23 I called my Grandmother, and asked her why she thought that was OK. I was crying and she apologized. We now are very close and she understands.

Alcohol is NOT our culture

So a comment that a KTVA viewer made on the news story they did about this blog has really been bugging me. He stated that alcohol is our culture when it is in fact not. He also implied that it is our own culture that it is killing us.
During the 1950's suicide among natives did not differ much from very much from the rest of the nation. During the 1950's alcohol was introduced to most native villages. Suicide, sex crimes, homicide and other crimes among native people began to climb. During this time much of our own culture was taken from us. I have heard numerous stories from elders and others of being beaten for speaking their language, of being washed in kerosene, and of being sexually abused by the priests that were brought to teach them what they thought we should know. I am going to be 31 years old and never knew of Ellam-yua until about two weeks ago.
While the introduction to the western ways may have improved life in some ways, like giving us a longer life span, homes that are easier to heat and education, it has also destroyed who we are. Natives were forced to forget their own beliefs and learn what others thought we should know.
Today nearly 80% of deaths among natives is alcohol related, despite many efforts to keep it out of many villages. Kotlik is a dry village. However, with an unemployment rate of 34.6% and the a ca pita income of $9,755, the sale of alcohol is quick and easy money in a village where a quart of uht milk is over $3 and where heating fuel and gasoline prices are over $6 a gallon. The sale of one fifth of alcohol is usually over $150.
 I want to make it clear that alcohol is not our culture, it is a problem that we are facing.It is so new to us that we have yet to figure out to overcome alcoholism, but I have faith that we will.
In fact Caucasian people consume more alcohol than any other people in this nation, so to sit and say that our culture is destroying is just plain idiotic. It is the DESTRUCTION of our culture and the FORCED INTRODUCTION of another that has lead to these issues that we face. Our beliefs and way of life was taken from us, another was forced upon us and then we saw a huge increase in social problems.
According to a U.S. Department of Health and Human Services survey, 56.7 percent of whites describe themselves as "current drinkers," compared to 42.8 percent of African Americans, 41.7 percent of Hispanics, 37.6 percent of Asians, and 47.6 percent of multiracial people.
"National surveys show differences in alcohol consumption across ethnic groups, including patterns of drinking associated with greater risk for the adverse effects of alcohol (e.g., binge drinking, defined as five or more drinks on the same occasion). According to past-30-day estimates of drinking provided by the 2007 National Survey on Drug Use and Health (NSDUH) (SAMHSA 2008c), any alcohol use in adults (i.e., ages 18 or older) is most prevalent for Whites."(NIAAA Publications)
" Self-reported rates of DUI were highest among White men" (Driving under the influence)
So we were forced to learn what others believe in, and yes it has become a problem for us. Alcohol is so new to us that we have yet to find a way to deal with it. I do however believe that we are doing everything we can to address this problem, and WILL overcome this plague introduced to us.
A reader also stated that Alaska Natives make up most of the inmate population, and that he knew this for a fact because he worked there. However according to state.ak.us Caucasian people make up the majority of the inmate population. 50% of the felony population in Alaska is made up of Caucasian people as well (http://justice.uaa.alaska.edu/forum/20/4winter2004/c_felonyprocess.html)
So there you go. Alcohol is not our culture. Our culture is much richer than that and cannot be learned by being a prison guard in a jail.

cul·ture

/ˈkəlCHər/

Noun The arts and other manifestations of human intellectual achievement regarded collectively. Definition of culture

Bullying and Suicide (part two)

So you go home. At first it feels good to be around family for the holidays. However, the village is small and the people haven't changed. The sneers and insults become even more frequent. Your circle continues to get smaller. Now you basically only have conversations with your family. Every time you leave the house and say "hello" to someone, they say, "eww, gross, disgusting, or don't talk to me". Some have even taken to hitting you or spitting on you when you leave the house. So you stop leaving the house. You are in a small, house in the village and your circle has become about five people. This goes on for a few years, lets say, five. You have no mental stimulation except for what's on the free t.v. channel. You don't leave the house at all. You begin to fall into a deep depression. At this point you start asking yourself, what is the point of living? Is this how my life is going to be forever? Will I be trapped in these four walls with nothing to do and no one to talk to for the next fifty or more years? A few more years go by and you try your hardest to stay strong, but the depression deepens. Soon, you family moves. Now your circle is completely gone. You HAVE to leave the house and endure the bullying to get the things necessary to survive. Every time you leave you are pushed even further down. Now you continue to live, not talking to anyone at all for the next, three years or more. Then what? One day you are sitting in your room after not having had any real conversations with people, or any positive experiences, really for the last ten years. You are sitting there, and you make a decision, I'm leaving. This is the only way. Then you do it. You take your life and put an end to the suffering. Now you are laid to rest for an eternity in the very place you spent your life trying and wishing to escape. Next to the very people who pushed you to this point.

The Grass is (not) Always Greener on the Other Side

Moving from a village of 600 to Anchorage was definitely a dramatic change. Before, I only ate at home or in a relatives house, suddenly there was a plethora of restaurants to choose from ( I did not know what most of the food was either). In the village, the only option to shop for school clothes was to do so from a catalog, now there were malls, and shops EVERYWHERE. I was used to having to go to a public laundromat and paying out the butt to take a shower (not daily either), now I was free to shower whenever and as often as I wanted. At home I could walk from one end of town to the other in under fifteen minutes, now I had to find some type of transportation for everything I wanted or needed to do, and was often lost.
While this was all new and exciting, I soon began to miss the things that I had spent all of my life doing and eating. I missed walking next door to Gramma's house and eating her yummy bread. I missed eating fresh whale and fish. I missed the potlatches and the basketball games. I missed all of my cousin's being there whenever I needed or wanted to see them. I missed listening to the VHF (lol).
With this being said, what are the things you miss most about being in the village? For my reader's in the village, what do you wish were available that people in the city have easy access to?
I look forward to reading your replies. Quyana tailuten atam tang'rrciqamken! (thank you for coming)
( I would love to see photo's of your villages or your favorite foods in the village!)

Welcome!

Welcome to my blog about being a Modern Native! I would like to start my blog off by thanking you for your interest.
I am an Alaskan Native who has moved from a village in Western Alaska to Anchorage. The transition was not easy. There were a variety of reasons for my wanting to leave the village. A lot of those villages have issues that I feel are brushed under the rug, so to speak. I would like to provide an open forum for Natives to voice their concerns and ideas for possible solutions as openly as possible.
I would like to start this Blog with my readers posting ideas that they feel don't get enough attention.
Again, thank you for coming.
Happy reading!