The challenge

The Gwich'in, or “Caribou People," of Alaska depend on hunting, particularly of the 130,000-strong Porcupine (River) caribou herd, for approximately 75 percent of their protein and calories – as well as clothes, tools and other life-sustaining materials. For at least 10,000 years, the Gwich’in have lived by hunting and conserving on a coastal plain bordering the Arctic Ocean, home to polar bears, rare birds and musk ox, where caribou give birth to their young. “My people are called the Caribou People because the Caribou return every year to our homelands to give birth to between 30,000 and 40,000 calves each year.” The Gwich'in call this area “The Sacred Place Where Life Begins.” But the oil industry prizes the region for its potential. If this plain is invaded, the Gwich’in believe, the caribou calving grounds may be harmed, possibly destroyed, and the culture and traditions of the Gwich’in would fade. Sarah James’s small community, population 130, borders the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge (A.N.W.R.). Her people have among the lowest per capita incomes and highest harvest of subsistence foods in North America. “We truly live a life far-removed from urban centers, with no running water, small log homes heated by wood, and gasoline for our snow machines costing over $5.00 per gallon,” she says. Despite the fragility of their culture, the Gwich’ins interests have largely been overlooked in the decades-old debate about energy security.


The winds of commitment

Sarah James is a Neets'aii Gwich'in Indian from Arctic Village, Alaska, the northernmost Indian tribe in North America. Gwich'in is James’s first language. She grew up traditionally, following the caribou migration. As a Gwich’in, she was born with motivation to care for her land. “Loss of the caribou would mean the end of my people, much like the loss of the buffalo resulted in the decimation of many indigenous cultures in the Great Plains over a century ago,” she says. But James did not choose to become a leader for the Gwich’in; that choice was made for her. For almost 20 years, Sarah James quietly served her people as a community health aide, in a log cabin with no running water, and founder of a preschool. Then, in 1988, the elders and spiritual leaders of the entire Gwich’in nation – encompassing 15 villages and several million acres of remote land in northeastern Alaska and Canada – chose her to become the public spokesperson for preserving the caribou, the land they travel, and the Gwich’in culture.


Accomplishments

The Gwich’in voice is being heard. That is Sarah James’s central accomplishment. She has successfully inserted the previously excluded Gwich’in voice into the debate about the fate of the Alaska coastal plain. Her goal is to reframe the debate, from a dispute about environment versus oil, to one that includes the question of cultural survival. “Our human rights – the ability to live off the land and provide for our families the way our ancestors have done for thousands of years – are not considered in this debate.” Moreover, the issues “may be viewed as minority rights versus majority rights.” But, she points out, “we have a legal relationship with the U.S. government, based on our uninterrupted use and occupancy of this land and two centuries of case law and international treaties signed by the U.S., which protects our way of life and ability to choose to continue to live by hunting and protecting the caribou.”

James brings people from all over the world to Arctic Village and the Gwich’in villages to meet the Caribou People and better understand their way of life. She has traveled far to bring the story of her people to the world, speaking in many countries about indigenous rights, human rights, and environmental issues. To share the Gwich'in's message, she has performed caribou drum and traditional songs at the Cathedral Church of St. John the Divine in New York City and at the first "Earth Summit" in Rio de Janeiro in 1992. She has been a keynote speaker at conferences and symposia around the world and has provided testimony to both the U.S. Senate and House of Representatives. She is a board member of the International Indian Treaty Council, a national representative for the Council of Athabascan Tribal Governments, a special advisor to the Yukon River Inter-Tribal Watershed Council and a member of the indigenous people subcommittee of the U. S. Environmental Protection Agency's National Environmental Justice Advisory Council. She has educated the Gwich’in about bioaccumulation of Persistent Organic Pollutants (POPs), especially in cold artic regions, and how this disproportionately affects indigenous people who consume large amounts of fish and meat. She mentored a young, well-educated man from her community, who eventually attended United Nations-sponsored international treaty negotiations for the elimination of POPs. He is now a statewide spokesperson and organizer on the issue.

As a spokesperson and alliance-builder, she has worked with Arctic Village and neighboring Venetie to reduce their dependence on fossil fuels and strengthen their traditional culture by using renewable resources such as wind and solar power. (In remote communities, electricity is produced with diesel fuel and generators.) In the summer of 2001, this vision became a reality with the installation of solar panels that produce power in the two communities. “This is the start of creating our own energy independence, of walking the walk,” she says. Sarah James has also launched an effort to create a community radio station powered by renewable energy. It will broadcast conventionally over the airwaves, and also on the Internet – in her people’s indigenous language as well as in English. She has already secured $152,000 for the project, and has involved her entire community in the effort. This use of technology, she believes, will help preserve her people’s language and traditions. And then many Gwich’in voices will reach around the globe – speaking for the caribou, for the kind of energy independence that preserves nature, and for a way of life.



How she leads

Collaborative leadership comes naturally to Sarah James because her culture requires it. Leadership within a tribal setting is a unique blend of humility, consultation with the elders and setting an example by doing. Her role can best be defined as that of a collaborative teacher. Before taking public stands, she must confer with her people and receive their consent. “My work in addressing this issue, as directed to me by my Tribal Elders, is to educate people about the consequences of their actions and to speak out to defend our human rights and protect our culture and way of life,” she explains. “This includes educating both the ‘outside’ world as well as our own people.” Most of her work is done as an unpaid volunteer. By necessity and desire, she builds collaborative links to other organizations and people. “Indigenous peoples are an impoverished political minority with very little perceived power,” she says. “As a result, politicians and other decision makers ignore our concerns and perspectives. For our voice to be heard and projected …we necessarily must find and support allies wherever and however we can. Thus, I believe my work and leadership role must be broad-based and boundary-crossing.” While environmental organizations are natural allies, she has also cultivated strategic partnerships with religious groups, human and civil rights organizations, musicians and artists. “Part of this strategy was and continues to be to refocus the terms of the debate so that oil drilling in A.N.W.R. is not just seen as an environmental issue.”


The future

Because of the way in which Gwich’in leaders are selected, James’s work will continue – even when she can no longer do it. This is also true because of the alliances she has formed, the communications technologies she has introduced so that other Gwich’in voices can be heard around the world, and because she has trained Gwich’in youth to protect their culture’s heritage. “My approach is to combine the strength and wisdom of our cultural knowledge and practices with the positive aspects of modern society and technology…while still being guided by our traditional values. Reaching out to our young people through school events, summer language immersion programs, cultural enrichment projects, and other activities are essential.” And, she emphasizes, the Caribou People’s struggle should inform other cultures about their own future. “It is so important to find the common ground of all people. Some people think this is so hard to do because we come from many diverse cultures. But the truth is, that we only must look down to the ground and see that we are standing on the same ground. We drink the same water, breathe the same air. We all have children and they have children and we want them all to survive in a healthy and just world…. We are all caretakers of the earth.”

More about Sarah James

“The Gwich'in, who call this area 'The Sacred Place Where Life Begins,’ know that all is connected and that if the caribou calving grounds are destroyed, their culture and traditions will soon follow.”
– Brian Hirsch, Ph.D. and Assistant Research Professor, Institute of Social and Economic Research, University of Alaska, Anchorage, and Executive Director of Earth Energy Systems
“The caribou is not just what we eat, but who we are. It is in our dances, stories, songs and the whole way we see the world. Caribou is how we get from one year to the other. ”
– Sarah James, The Spokesman-Review (Spokane, WA), March 18, 2001