Decolonizing Suicide Postvention in the Arctic

By Debby Dahl Edwardson

“Something is stalking the village people,” wrote Howard Weaver in his Pulit- ecutive director and founder of Bright zer prize-winning series of reports, “A Shores, a North Slope organization dedPeople in Peril,” published in the An- icated to developing projects that supchorage Daily News in 1988. “Across the port creative expression in the service of state, the Eskimos, Indians and Aleuts community and cultural wellness. of Bush Alaska are dying in astonishing One of the projects she’s currently numbers... there is roughly a one in 10 working on is a suicide postvention chance that a 15-year-old Native boy will program, which she sees as a way of kill himself or make a serious attempt to reclaiming the conversation around do so before he is 25,” Weaver wrote. suicide, a conversation too often led by

This story hasn’t aged well, unfortu- those who have no real understanding of nately. The statistics have gotten worse. the affected communities. The CDC now says that Alaska Natives Suicide postvention, as opposed to have the highest rates of suicide of any suicide prevention, focuses on the way a racial group in the country and that the suicide affects families and communities rates of suicide in this population have as well as individuals. Research shows been increasing since 2003. that in tight-knit Native communities,

In recent years, the story of increas- suicide can indeed appear to be containg suicides in Inuit communities has gious. crossed borders, encompassing circum- “Knowing someone who has commitpolar Inuit communities from Alaska ted suicide is a risk factor which signifito Greenland, with screaming headlines cantly increases one’s chances of dying like: “The Inuit Youth Suicide Epidem- by suicide,” Edwardson explains. ic in Arctic Canada” or “The Suicide Research shows that suicide prevenCapital of the World: Why do so many tion and postvention programs are more Greenlanders kill themselves?” successful when facilitated by those who

None of this is news to those living in have suffered a suicide loss or suicide atthese Arctic communities, where virtu- tempt. Research also indicates that the ally every family has been deeply affect- most effective facilitators are those culed by suicide. turally connected to the communities “I’ve lost two uncles, a half a dozen they serve. cousins, and way too many friends and “This points to the need to ground classmates to suicide,” says Aaluk Ed- suicide prevention and postvention wardson of Utqiaġvik. “For me, it’s per- programs firmly within a decolonized sonal.” cultural context, training mental health

Edwardson is the artistic and ex- specialists and community members in Learn more about Bright Shores at brightshores.org.

“The story of the universe and our place in it is an inspiring story... that encourages people to place themselves in a context much bigger than that of any one person or even of any one people.”

cultural safety and culturally responsive practices. Suicide is not a cultural thing, but its treatment needs to be rooted in cultural values and worldviews,” Edwardson says.

Edwardson, who has herself suffered from severe depression, anxiety, PTSD, and suicidal ideation, has been working on mental health issues in rural Alaska since she was in high school. As the Arctic Slope representative to the Alaska Federation of Natives Youth and Elders Conference, she led a working group which developed a new resolution for mental health, pointing to the need for more comprehensive mental health services.

“We thought we needed to reframe our understanding of social issues to highlight mental health, because focusing on an addiction-only model doesn’t allow us to address the root cause of why people reach for drugs or alcohol, violence or suicide,” Edwardson said.

Edwardson, who describes herself as a multidisciplinary artist working on community wellness, attended Dartmouth College where she studied the use of creative expression, specifically theater, as a healing medium. She describes Bright Shores as “a strength-based, solutionfacing organization.”

Art as used in Edwardson’s programs is a spiritual, culturally-rooted medium that emphasizes the strengths of indigenous people and their communities rather than focusing on the deficits created by colonization.

Through Bright Shores, Edwardson is testing the waters in her home region, the North Slope, with a slope-wide wellness campaign using theater in a community-focused healing program called ATTA. It’s named after the play that’s at the core of the program, a play which Edwardson began working on as a student at Dartmouth.

The ATTA project uses traditional Iñupiaq stories in a drama-based curriculum that culminates with a performance. Bright Shores employs the use of story and storytelling in a variety of ways to help develop personal and community narratives.

“The study of narrative psychology shows that storytelling does in fact support cognitive, social, and community wellness,” Edwardson says.

As creative guidance for the ATTA project, Bright Shores uses the four realms of the Iñupiaq world as elucidated by Jana Pausauraq Harcharek in the North Slope Borough School District’s Iñupiaq Learning Framework.

The play centers on a traditional Iñupiaq story about Nuliauk, commonly known as Sedna, with references to social, cultural, environmental, and scientific data. It was written with the expectation that there would be breakout sessions with discussions around certain scenes in the play. These discussions touch on important issues in the Arctic such as suicide, environmental change, and cultural resiliency.

“Expressive arts therapies, such as performance, use the body as an instrument for healing and can be very helpful in working through trauma, including suicide,” Edwardson says.

The show has been produced twice, once in New Hampshire and once in Alaska.

Along with the use of traditional stories, Edwardson also uses science and

research from a number of disciplines to spark wider discussion and contemplation.

“Suicide tends to separate you from everything,” Edwardson says. “People tell you to just get over it but you can’t. So, one of the tactics we use is to bring in research about how humans evolved during times of crisis by exploring ancient stories about rebirth, trauma, and change.”

In the evenings leading up to the production of the play, Bright Shores will host community learning workshops on ancient Iñuit engineering, the commercial whaling period in Alaska, and climate change in the Arctic, both ancient and contemporary.

“This work focuses on a central theme for Bright Shores that supports facing the pain of the planet body through the lens of the human body and vice versa,” Edwardson says. “The story of the

“One of the tactics we use is to bring in research about how humans evolved during times of crisis by exploring ancient stories about rebirth, trauma, and change.”

universe and our place in it is an inspiring story with the kind of imagery that encourages people to place themselves in a context much bigger than that of any one person or even of any one people. This results in a healthier perspective on personal challenges and struggles, a perspective shift critically important for people who are struggling with mental illness” she adds.

The cumulative experience is that ATTA is not just a performance; it uses drama to involve the community in a deeper way to not only deal with the pain of suicide, but to teach history and climate science because, as Edwardson writes: “Every culture has its own understanding of the science of the world and in many cases the universe. The parameters around what is known varies as does what is defined as truth or fact.”

The goal is to empower the Native scientific worldview which has been devalued and ignored by the forces of colonization. With the understanding, as researcher M. Ogawa writes, that “western science is only one form of science among the sciences of the world,” the ATTA project emphasizes Iñupiaq science which tends to be holistic, locally-rooted, contextual, and well-steeped in the values of the people.

The premiere of the ATTA project on the North Slope began successfully with a performance in Utqiaġvik in the summer of 2019 and Edwardson hopes to tour the Arctic in 2022. Bright Shores as an organization will continue to foster projects like ATTA which use creative expression in the service of the kinds of cultural engagement programs which support indigenous wellness through indigenous science and suicide postvention. The organization, Edwardson says, is growing “like the tundra as it emerges from the spring’s last frost: rooted and ready to grow.”

Debby Dahl Edwardson lives and writes from Utqiaġvik, her home of 40 years. Her most recent novel, My Name is Not Easy, was a finalist for the National Book Award. She teaches history and writing at Il •isaġvik College.

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