Finding My Way Back — Learning About My First Nations Culture

 

"The songs, the stories, the language — discovering the pieces of myself I never knew were missing."

Growing up here in Southeast Alaska, I didn’t always have the opportunity to learn much about my First Nations culture. Sure, there were glimpses of it — the beginnings of Native art making a comeback, some carving here and there — but for the most part, the deeper parts of our story, our songs, our language… those were things I never truly knew.

I’ve often wished I could speak our language. I knew a word or two growing up, enough to recognize it, but never enough to understand… to speak. That part always felt like a missing piece of who I was. But now, as I get older and I lean in, I’m realizing that piece isn’t lost — it’s waiting to be picked up.

One of the things I did grow up with — thanks to my dad, his brothers, and sisters — was a sense of Native honor and respect. Those values were quietly, steadily instilled in me from a young age. I’m learning now how deep those values run in our culture, how they connect to protocol, to gifting, to the way we show respect through song and dance.

When I sit among our people, listening to the drums, hearing the voices rise in song, watching the dancers move… it brings tears to my eyes. I close my eyes sometimes and I can almost see our ancestors there — standing proud, smiling, their spirits alive in that moment. It fills me with pride, with gratitude, and honestly, with a little ache for what I didn’t know as a kid. But there’s time now. There’s time to learn.

Even the artwork — our FormLine art — carries such meaning, such beauty. I remember learning the basics of it back in junior high. How to shape the lines, how to recognize the flow of the design. I even learned how to make some of the carving tools — the bent blade, the straight blade, the atz. Simple tools, yet with them, incredible beauty is created.

Today, I look at the younger generation — the ones teaching the language, the songs, the art — and I can’t help but admire them. They are keepers of something sacred. They’re carrying the torch, lighting the way for all of us who are still finding our way back to who we are.

Our First Nations culture is more than history. It’s alive. It’s resilient. And it’s beautiful.

I’m learning — and I’m grateful.