Whenever new development looms on the horizon, people in Alaska jump on the bandwagon of preparation. How, they logically ask, can our people get ready for this new development so that they can work the jobs leaders tell us we so desperately need? But climb on a plane to Barrow on certain days, and you'll see that this effort has been somewhat ineffective. Young men commuting from the Lower 48 to Prudhoe Bay fill the seats, jubilant to be going home, taking their paychecks with them.
Maybe it's just that Alaskans aren't accustomed to these kinds of jobs -- the kind where you work doing one thing and get paid by one person. Most of the people I know work four or five jobs here and there through the course of a year. Those jobs can be wildly divergent -- school teachers, lawyers, lawmakers head out each summer to fish while I know others who guide people through crowds of brown bears one month and create culinary delights the rest of the time. We're all over the map.
I was recently visiting a friend, an acupuncturist with a healthy practice she's been cultivating for several years. She likes the work, but recently, she's been involved with a movie about alleged cruelty to sea creatures. As one of the documentary's interview subjects, she's been invited all over the world to speak on an issue she's wildly passionate about. The presentations and interviews make her feel alive, and caused her to question what her real calling in life is.
Thriving on swings and shifts
So many Alaskans have similar situations. We seem to thrive on swings and shifts. Maybe it's all the sunshine and darkness. Extremes are our thing, perhaps.
Even so, it sure would be helpful to a lot of folks to be able to see some benefit from the ever-expanding Arctic. How to do that was the question on the lips of Alaska's leaders attending the Week of the Arctic conference in Anchorage this week. There's little doubt with the current pace of change that a decade or two from now, Alaska's Arctic will have opened up in ways we can only barely imagine right now. The question is, will Alaskans be part of that economic expansion or will they be sitting on the sidelines serving coffee to the men and women with the skills to take the jobs such an expansion provides?
It's expected that jobs will include those in shipping and tourism, but also carpentry and architecture, food service and scientists, of course, to conduct all the environmental studies into how the Arctic development is impacting the land, sea and all the creatures that call it home.
But while community colleges can offer programs to help train would-be job seekers, those in the know say the real switch that will open the door between Alaska's Arctic residents and the jobs soon to appear on their doorsteps must start much earlier.
High school students from rural areas -- even those at the top of their classes -- are going to face a big challenge when they get to college, something seen time and time again when the village's best and brightest go off with hopes in their eyes, only to come back a year or two later disillusioned and deflated.
Plugging holes, not investing
It's not a small challenge, mind you. Students can only absorb when their world around them is calm and dependable. A myriad of circumstances comprise a student's ability to learn the skills needed to become a mariner or a scientist in tomorrow's Arctic. Programs like the Alaska Native Science and Engineering Program at the University of Alaska Anchorage are a step in the right direction. They bring students in during their high school years and set the bar high, giving them not only a taste of what college life is like, but also what they can do when they apply themselves, all in a safe and supportive environment.
But those programs take investment, and attention. Right now, rural districts spend a lot of time plugging the holes in a constantly leaking education system where teacher turnover exhausts an already-strained system.
And on top of all of that, these programs are asking Alaska's children to be an entirely different version of Alaskan than their parents, not to mention their parents' parents.
Those factors need to be taken into account. Alaskans -- especially rural Alaskans -- won't fit into a one-size-fits-all program. Industry leaders should make it their priority to find a way to weave together the skills and talents of Alaska's Arctic residents into their business plans. That's the difference between taking from a place and enhancing it.
Carey Restino is the editor of The Arctic Sounder, where this commentary first appeared. It is republished here with permission.
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