In an Arctic classroom, students find spring science connections

Crunch, crunch, crunch. My boots trudge through the crusty morning snow. Shhhhhhhhusssssshhh. That’s my borrowed bucket sled, hauling two totes, one filled with paints, foam, cups and tubs, the other with 30 bird wings from the Museum of the North. It’s May, in Savoonga—a town of 800 out in the Bering Sea—and I'm headed to the school to deliver science lessons.

"Ooh wow, sounds fun. I used to love science when I was in school," says my friend Suzanne, who will watch my 1.5-year-old son during the day while I’m leading lessons. “Science was my favorite subject in school!" enthused Kingiikaq, a Tribal Council member. This is my goal while here--to connect with the upcoming generation through science, a love of place, and curiosity and to spark an interest to learn more about conservation and research. Alaska’s next generation of Arctic conservationists will need to combine ways of knowing to manage their ocean and island into the future. Our WWF US Arctic Program is almost entirely made up of people born and raised here. This part of our work is about looking forward to who will continue to maintain the health of our Arctic marine ecosystems, at WWF, managing a Marine Cultural Heritage Zone, or beyond.

Lessons in marine life

So, what does this learning look like? I created a set of lessons that align with state and national science teaching standards and used hands-on, place-based activities. With younger kids, we explore wind, rain, and test different materials to design a raincoat that is warm and dry, including materials their ancestors used like feathers and walrus intestines. We also make bird masks, explore the properties of snow, build islands for Arctic animals, and design angyaqs (boats) to haul ayveq (walrus) with the help of the 8th grade Yupik class.

Middle schoolers set up an auklet colony and practice recording and analyzing data, noting bird wing shapes, energy expenditure, and optimal foraging strategies. We also examine local home foundations then build and test our own. High schoolers meet conservation and research professionals remotely, learn about the maritime practices through Arctic Watch with Savoonga’s Tribal delegate Edwin Noongwook, and explore the monitoring system used by the Marine Exchange of Alaska to track vessels. Additionally, they learn to calculate the ratio of bird mass to wing area (known as wing loading) and explore how wing shape matches with bird ecology. They interpret data from studies done on their island and dig snow pits for the fourth graders.

By Friday, I discover my brain is tired as I struggle to clearly describe how to decorate a bird mask. “How do you do this every day?” I ask 1st grade teacher Christina Brancoaleone, who has been both raising her kids and working at the school with her husband in Savoonga since forever, “It took me all last week just to pull together these lessons.” I admit. “Not a lot of sleep,” she huffs a quiet laugh, “and a lot of coffee.” Indeed. Although I think a lot of skill and care are also needed. She organized a basketball tournament the previous weekend,proceeded to deliver quality lessons with care this week, and launched a graduating class into their futures the following weekend.

From spring to summer

I’m back in Fairbanks now, a dramatic switch from Savoonga’s rapidly melting snow and ice to the “green-up” of interior Alaska. I’ve left a visible trail of glitter and feathers in my wake. Hopefully I’ve also left some meaningful connections and some of those kids I taught in May will show up in July, when the Native Village of Savoonga, Kukulget Inc, myself, and a couple other invited experts host Savoonga’s first science camp.