My forever home is Newtok, but it is eroding as we live and breathe. It has been falling apart since 1983, or even before that. Some of the people who are moving from the place they call home are anxious because they have to pack and leave right away. Their childhood and adulthood memories are left behind, along with the places they lived. I am a part of this. On the day they demolished my old red house in 2019, I was so emotional, thinking about how I am never going to be there again.
When I first wrote this in December 2024, there were still people there, maybe because they were not ready to leave. Still, even if we are away from our family and friends, we are connected with each other and with the community through Yuraq (traditional Yup’ik dancing), school activities, and potlucks. We are all in this together.
An October trip to Newtok brought me treasured memories.
It reminded me of those movies of when people have flashbacks of what they did when they were younger. They see their younger self in that recapture. I saw that, but in my imagination I was getting a feeling of melancholy emotion. Being over at Newtok, middle of October, was different, very quiet, lonely, very unlike how we used to live there before. Newtok seemed small after I grew up. I used to think it was really big, but there is a bigger world out there.
While we were there my thoughts were going everywhere, but I knew there was something specific I had to find. My uncle told me that there were photos and drawings of my mom in a small building in Newtok next to the cell tower.
My mom, Lucille Negaryaq Anacii Carl, passed away just before I turned four on May 10, 2010. She was born April 12, 1979. She was a loving and caring person. Most people told me that she loved working with kids. She never used to get mad at anyone. She traveled around most of the United States in 2005 before my siblings and I were born. The people she met along the way loved her even without knowing her very well. My goal is to travel all around the world, like I’m finishing it off for her. I do not know her whole story, and I did not know her very well, but I heard a lot of good stories about her.
I walked up to the small building next to the cell phone tower and tried to open the door, but it did not budge. Suddenly a guy opened the door and he scared me! After screaming and composing myself, I asked him if I could check inside and look around for my mom, Lucille’s, pictures; they invited me in. I took a couple steps on the porch and saw her crumpled picture on the door taped onto it. After seeing her picture all crumpled up I felt sad inside and I tried my best not to show it. One of the guys said that there was a better photo. I took a step inside and looked around, and after seeing the photo I was so happy I almost started tearing up, but at the same time I wanted to jump around and frolic, but I did not want to show my emotions.
Lucille grew up in Newtok. I was sad to leave Newtok, and I wish we still lived there because I wanted to hear stories about Lucille while living there so I can visualize it. I can’t visualize it here because she never lived here before. There is one story I got told by one of my family members. They said that after she passed, they saw me sitting on the floor next to the refrigerator and it looked like I was stroking my hands on someone's head in my old red house, but there was no one there. They told me that I was stroking Lucille's head. Either one of my uncles or aunties told me that I said goodbye to such a beautiful soul on planet Earth. I don’t remember doing that. I wasn’t ellangaq (aware) back then, but I think I had a flashback a couple of years ago.
My Auntie Charlene and most people say I really look and act like her. I never used to see it, but after some time I started seeing Lucille in me. When I show a picture to people, they say that she looks like an angel because she is very beautiful and she had a very unique soul. When I look at her picture I see the good in her, like you can already tell that she's very kind and has a great personality. All of those stories I heard from people about Lucille made me think, “I wish I knew her.”
My forever home is Newtok for many reasons, from many memories. I wanted to retake where the picture of her was taken, but the building was caught on fire before I was born. The photo I got from the cell tower made me wonder what it would be like if she was here with us today. How I imagine it is her teaching kids here in Mertarvik Pioneer School because she loved kids. She would have been very proud of me for getting into college and the scholarships that were offered to me, also my grandma Lucy. If only they stayed a bit longer, but life goes on.
Sometimes we look at the people we value as our role models. Most of my family members are my role models, but I also like to think of them as my home. Where you can be yourself, tell them all your hardships and all that. You do not have to keep secrets from them, and also you don't need to keep your emotions bottled up inside you. Newtok is forever in my heart, but now I realize that my family is my forever home.
"Lessons From Newtok" is led by photographers Katie Baldwin Basile and Emily Schiffer and supported by the Newtok Village Council, Lower Kuskokwim School District, Fox Air, International Teaching Artist Collective, New York Foundation for the Arts, Provincetown School District, Massachusetts Cultural Council, and KYUK.
