Fairbanks

I grew up in the second largest town in Alaska. Fairbanks sits almost in the middle of the state. Some of my earliest memories were walking in the downtown area, on first and second avenue. Both at the time were lining with different bars. I was living with my real mom at the time and she liked to frequent the different bars. We went so often that the bartenders knew me by name. I guess during those days it was okay to bring a 3 year old into the bar.

We lived in the Northward building which is the second tallest building in Fairbanks just around the corner from where the bars sat. Also right next to the Polaris building (which was the tallest building) and is now condemned. I used to love that building, the lobby had high backed booths that were perfect for taking a nap in. It also always had elevator music playing. My favorite part was the Chinese restaurant that was located on the top floor and you could see most of Fairbanks. The food wasn't bad either.

I remember back then the streets were littered with drunk Alaska Natives passed out on sidewalks and against buildings. Those were my people, the same blood ran through me. I was too young at the time to realize that anything was wrong with what I was seeing. But I remembered, and I grew up in that town, continuing to see Natives drunk on the streets. Why? I wondered, why did it look like they were wasting their lives away.

In the 80's they started cleaning up the downtown area. Probably tired of seeing what I was seeing, streets of drunks. My real mom was one of them, but by that time I had been placed in foster care and eventually adopted. Somewhere during my childhood a shame began to develop that stayed with me for most of my life. It was a shame that anyone of any culture should never have to feel. I was ashamed to be Native. And I think my adopted mom who was also an Alaska Native might have felt the same way. I felt like she was raising me to be a white boy. Maybe not, but I do know there wasn't much Native culture taught in my home. Which just fueled the shame.

Shame is a powerful thing. It can keep us from following our dreams, living as we truly are, learning about where we come from. Just to name a few. It can make us turn the other way, instead of reaching out to help. It can bury us in silence, like a mountain on us muffling our screams. But after many years of living with it. I also believe it can give us strength, an obstacle to overcome. The strength to stand up and finally have a voice! Because you know in your heart, your people are better than that. And maybe someday a little guy will look at me with pride in his heart and think, "That's my people".