Every spring, the university would host the
Festival of Alaska Native Arts and Native people of all persuasions would come to Fairbanks to take part. In the auditorium, there were performances of various kinds and in the large lobby, tables were set up for artists, craftspeople, and writers to sell their work. One year, Bill went as the representative from the Film Archives, where he was working. I went with him to help. We had a TV with a VHS machine hooked up so he could play some of the old film. On the table, we had a binder or two with still photos in sleeves. The reason for us being there was twofold. First, just to let people know that the resource existed, since not many people knew about it and it was a treasure trove of old film. If anyone watched the film and wanted a copy, one would be sent to them, free of charge. Second, to see if anyone had any information about any of the people in the video or still photos.
As we were setting up, we were interrogated by the people at the table next to us. They wanted to know who we were and why we were there. When we tried to explain, we were met with hostility, which was kind of unpleasant, but understandable. They assumed we were there to sell things and were not happy at the idea of a couple of non-Native people or a university department making money off of their images—they’d been ripped off plenty under such circumstances for a long time. So we just went on with what we were there to do and kept on being nice to them.
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| courtesy of fna |
People came up and watched the film and looked through the binder. There were conversations among people about who some of the people were and some identifications were made. They seemed to enjoy it. Then a woman came to the table with her granddaughter and started watching the film. When it came to a clip of some kids in a home ec class, a huge smile filled her face and she cried out, ‘That’s me!’ She proceeded to tell us about the class and that they were baking a cake. She turned to her granddaughter and said, ‘That’s grandma in the video!’ Her granddaughter, who was pretty young, said, ‘That’s not you, Grandma! You’re old and that’s a kid!’ We all laughed and the woman asked to see it again, so Bill rewound. He asked her if she wanted a copy and she was thrilled. She gave him her address in the village and he promised to mail it to her.
After watching all of this, the people at the neighbouring table understood that we really were not there to make money they came over to talk to us and apologized. They even looked through the binder.
The next fews days will photos from the festival.
