Ghost Ranch, New Mexico

During my recent trip to New Mexico, I was able to share the story of 1000 Cranes for Alaska with friends and colleagues gathered for an annual Alexander Technique retreat in the beautiful high deserts outside of Santa Fe. After a week of intense self deepening work, and many treks into the incredible natural landscape, my colleagues and I were well rehearsed in the benevolent practice of holding compassionate space for witnessing each other's transformations. It was at the tail end of this workshop when my teacher invited me to tell the story of our cranes. 

I realize that I have begun to develop a relationship with this story, with the tragedy that occurred in St. Michael, and the amazing collective outpouring of support that followed us during those first few raw and vulnerable days. What surprised me this time was just how much I continue to be moved by each new telling, feeling the emotion swell in me and watching it reflected back in the faces of those with whom I am sharing. 

This time was certainly no exception, and as I finished and looked around at the circle of tearful faces I had helped to create, my teacher quickly took up the calling and before I had a chance to even ask, everyone was on their feet, bringing over tables, spreading out origami paper and teaching each other how to fold paper cranes. 

Many of my Alexander colleagues are from Japan, from our sister schools in Tokyo and Kyoto. As you undoubtedly know, Japan is still reeling from their very own recent tragedy, and my Japanese friends seized this opportunity to engage in an activity of collective healing. I could see through their expressions that they were engaging in a deep level of resonance with the experience, and taking their own solace in the sensation of connecting to a greater whole. 

I saw and felt, once again, how transformative this simple act of folding and sharing one origami crane can be. After we finished folding, and took pictures for the website, one of my teachers said he "thinks we might really be on to something here." You know what? I think he might be right.

1000 Cranes is one month old!

I began this blog one month ago today. We are now five weeks from the tragedy that inspired the 1000 Cranes for Alaska project. 

Thursday night, I had dinner with Tina, my videographer friend who was with me during my residency in St. Michael. While she and I were busy catching up, I caught myself saying: "Truth be told, I wish I could quit all of my other jobs and just do this." It's a logistical impossibility to be sure, but this desire to be single minded, singly focused, is one I often wrestle with during my hectic life here in Anchorage. It is, in large part, what sends me running off to remote corners of the universe so frequently, in order that I might recharge and reboot.

Through my training as an Alexander Technique teacher, I have spent years noticing habits of use in my body that are no longer serving me. The study requires that students actively pursue an intense de-cluttering of their innate coordination in order to quiet the noise of our own nervous systems. By "tuning" our bodies so that they more closely resemble our original organization, (through a process my teacher likes to call "upgrading your software to match your hardware"), and by utilizing the hands on bodywork practices of the technique, Alexander teachers are able to "hear" the current "short circuits" of their clients'/students' nervous systems. Teachers then share this information, such that their students may begin to make informed use of it, and slough off habits that are no longer useful, or hindering ease of use in the body, perhaps causing chronic pain, even acute use-related injuries.  It has been a life-altering study, one which has opened the door to further explorations of several holistic methodologies, including Zen Buddhism and Native Science. 

However, in my day to day city life, I am consistently surrounded by large amounts of "static on the line" from any number of distraction-worthy sources: jobs, projects, acquaintances, debts, gossip, politics, overflowing laundry, you name it. I am constantly in motion from one place to the next, one job to the next, one task to the next, zooming past numerous piles of theoretical and physical clutter that pepper a hectic, sometimes harried, life. 

Anyone who knows me well, for instance, also knows that my car is a chronic mess on wheels,  a suburban gypsy cart, further evidence of my thither and yon existence. One single suitcase and a remote rural destination feels like freedom, and I am grateful for these much-needed clean slates. Each trip renews my spirit and helps remind me of who I am when I'm not reacting to a fire hose of chronic stimuli. Hardly three weeks back from St. Michael and the noise and clutter of my life has already begun to overwhelm me. Perhaps I am still readjusting, but either way, in just a few weeks, thankfully, I will be heading out into the painted deserts of Santa Fe, New Mexico, to a place called Ghost Ranch where Georgia O'Keefe used to live and paint. I know it doesn't make much sense geographically, but I am looking forward to this chance to feel closer to the spirit of the village, and back "home" to what feels like a more authentic version of myself. It seems that only in these quiet spaces can I also become quiet enough to hear what the universe, and all those who have come before me, have to teach me. These lessons arrive in whispers, in the form of inspired thoughts that come into my mind and are reflected in my surroundings, usually in the natural world. Every so often, as in the case of 1000 Cranes for Alaska, I share what I have learned with the people around me, such that they may be able to make use of the information. 

Speaking of which, 1000 Cranes for Alaska is continuing to create new ripples in our community. Yesterday, while rewarding my young theater students with some much-deserved time in the sunshine, I was approached by a representative of the Girl Scouts of Alaska, who will soon be joining our story. 

Last week I met with Kathy McCue from the Alaska Native Medical Center, and had the chance to tour their facility. I particularly enjoyed hearing about the forward thinking, holistic philosophies that were influential in the building's original design. The ANMC functions simultaneously as an incredible gallery space, chock full of some of the best Alaskan Native artwork our state has to offer. There is a tangible sense of community woven into the architecture and emanating from the staff. I am currently hard at work on a poster design for 1000 Cranes that will hang in the ER alongside a station for people to make cranes and join our effort. These cranes will also be on display in the ER, a healing reminder of the care taken on behalf of loved ones, here and beyond.

Our 1000 Cranes for Alaska facebook page has seen some fresh activity thanks to the generous efforts of Viva Voom Brr-lesque, a beloved, local burlesque and variety review. I have worked with this outstanding troupe for a number of years, and in our most recent show, Kamala Derry Stiner, the group's founder and emcee, (stage name: "Lola Pistola"), asked me to speak to the audience about the project. The audience was incredibly receptive, especially considering the fairly serious tone of the announcement in an otherwise raucously entertaining show. I provided crane folding instructions and origami paper for the patrons, and new cranes have begun to pop up once again on our page.

The Boys and Girls Club of Eagle River also joined our story, thanks to Viva Voom hostess, Jennifer Brown.

And just this weekend at the local concert of renowned singer/songwriter Brandi Carlile, my videographer, Tina Scott, had concert patrons folding cranes to pass the time while they waited in line for the start of the show.

This weekend I attended our local Anchorage Saturday Market, and stopped by the booth for The Snowy Owl, a small business owned and operated by UAA theater student, Chloe Akers. Chloe handcrafts fur baby booties and other adorable tiny fur products. She also provides origami paper and a copy of the story of 1000 Cranes at her booth to both educate her largely out of state customer base with regard to the suicide crisis in our state, and offer them a way to get involved during their brief visits.  

Outstanding efforts such as Jennifer's, Tina's, Chloe's, and those of so many others have helped 1000 Cranes for Alaska reach a new recent milestone with over 500 "likes", or followers, to our facebook site. I am so proud to see the creative leadership of my many inspiring and enterprising friends who are making a measurable and continual impact in our growing community. 


In keeping with that theme, and to commemorate the one month anniversary of the weblog, I have included some of my favorite photos from our facebook site. Feel free to check out the rest and add to our campaign at http://on.fb.me/1000cranesforAK

 

Support from the Dean of the College of Arts and Sciences, UAA

Leslie,

I want to acknowledge the great service to community your 1,000 Cranes for Alaska Project represents.  Thank you for caring.  I’m certain the community of St. Michael benefited greatly from your artistic presence as well as from your compassion, and it is equally certain the entire State is benefiting from your vision and leadership.

Cheers, Kim

Kim M. Peterson, Ph.D.

Interim Dean

College of Arts and Sciences

University of Alaska Anchorage

********************************************************************************************

Kim, 

Thank you so much for your kind words of support. This has truly been a transformative experience for me, and I am continually blown away by the evolving community response to my small gesture. I have made lifelong friends in the village of St. Michael, and learned firsthand how effective the arts can be in mobilizing our collective compassion and putting it to use in our community. Thank you for the opportunity, through my work at the university, to earn a living in my discipline, thereby keeping the arts at the center of my own life. 

All the best,

Leslie Kimiko Ward

UAA Department of Theater and Dance

1000 Cranes in The Northern Light

Hope soars high in St. Michael

By Heather Hamilton | 28 June 2011
Tags: 1000 cranes, death, rural village, st. michael, tradition, tragedy

When tragedy falls, more than families suffer. The officials trying to maintain order suffer, the volunteers trying to save lives suffer, neighbors suffer and even the bystanders suffer sorrow, and need a release for their grief.

Robert Prince, a 23-year-old man visiting his mother in St. Michael, Alaska died in a snowmachining accident on Saturday, June 11 while attempting to skip the machine across a lake back to the village. A good portion of the village turned out to try and save him after his machine stalled and he sank beneath the surface. After nearly an hour of dredging the pond, his body was recovered.

“Everybody started trying to dredge the pond,” said Leslie Ward, a UAA Dance professor, “Then all of a sudden, the whole crowd just erupted in screams, and people were falling on top of each other, and waving their arms in front of their faces. You could tell that they’d found him, and that it was not good.”

Ward was in St. Michael for two weeks as part of an artist residence through the Artists in Schools program, during which she taught dance and drumming to the children at Anthony A. Andrews School. One week in, she bore witness to the village’s efforts to save Prince, along with many others, including children at the school.

“Someone screamed to get the kids away from there, because there were kids gathered all around, including the students that I had by me, so I gathered up the kids that were by me, and called for some others and took them to the playground,” said Ward.

Deeply affected by the event and unsure how to cope, Ward began folding paper cranes that night to keep herself busy in an effort to keep her mind off of it. The folding of paper cranes has a special meaning to Ward; she grew up with the tradition of folding 1000 cranes and gifting them to others. In Japanese lore, if an individual folds 1000 paper cranes, they are granted a wish; it is common practice to fold 1000 cranes and gift them to others in an expression of your wish for them, whether it be to gain health, have a happy marriage or celebrate a birthday.

Megan Stuppy, a special education teacher at Anthony A. Andrews School, expressed concern to Ward of a possible suicide in the wake of the tragedy. According to Stuppy, the village of roughly 400 had already lost three citizens to suicide that year, and two village elders had died as well.

“I started worrying about the people who didn’t have someone to remind them of their value to the world. I conveyed this to Leslie who almost immediately knew she needed to do something,” said Stuppy.

Stuppy’s worry stemmed from the fact that, in the village, almost everyone is related to one another in one form or another. Her own boyfriend is the deceased’s uncle, who took the death of his nephew especially hard.

It was then that Ward decided to turn her small method of coping into something larger for the entire village of St. Michael. She taught her students how told fold cranes, and created a Facebook page dedicated to the project, where anyone could post a picture of themselves holding a paper crane in support. In her blog Ward writes that the project isn’t about creating something “epic,” but that it is about busying oneself while grieving until you realize that, through this thing, you “begin living again.”

“My hope for the “1000 Cranes for Alaska” project is that it offers up one such tiny opportunity, and before you know it, you’re plugged in to an instant and growing network of support and creative inspiration,” said Ward.

Since its start on Sunday, June 12, the Facebook page (called “1000 Cranes for Alaska) has amassed 363 “likes,” and has had its Wall peppered with pictures of handmade paper cranes from around the state and country. It continues to grow daily.

Locally, in St. Michael, Ward and her students performed dance and drumming in front of a large collection of community members on Thursday, June 16, as had been planned before the events that led to the grassroots “suicide prevention” movement. At the end, Ward explained the project she and her students had taken on, and presented the 1000 cranes (which had been completed on Wednesday, June 15) to the audience. Children held strings of cranes proudly in their hands as they walked from the back of the room, and the audience cried.

“They came into the gym where we were holding the show and you could see it on their faces that they were so proud of what they’d done,” Ward said, “They faced the audience, and everybody just cried harder…It think it was something that was very healing for the community just to see the image of the kids and their efforts.”

The mother of the deceased was at her son’s funeral in Kotlik at the time of the presentation, and was unaware of the gesture her son’s death had inspired. The cranes will be on display in the school however, so that students and teachers returning in the fall will have a reminder that they can make a difference.

But the movement didn’t stop when the performance was over; some are still keeping it alive. According to Ward, Chloe Akers, a UAA student who recently started her own business crafting products for children, will be hosting the 1000 Cranes for Alaska project at her booth for upcoming Saturday markets (July 2, 9, 16 and 23). Her business’s name is The Snowy Owl.

Stuppy is also dedicated to keeping the movement going. “At the beginning of the school year, we’ll have an assembly to share with the entire school what we did this summer. We’ll discuss the story of the 1000 cranes, and we will make a plan as a school to continue folding cranes when members of the community need them. It won’t stop here; I won’t let that happen.”

Paying it Forward

For as long as I can afford to do so, I want to keep money out of the equation for this 1000 Cranes for Alaska project. This has been able to go so far and do so much already with only the inspiration and willingness of people to participate in our story, and I have been making the continual executive decision to keep the money out and fuel this project solely with participants' good will and spirits of cooperation. 

This may not be possible forever, I recognize, but for now I'm able to volunteer my own time and resources to run this project and search for new wellsprings of help and support that aren't financially driven.

I hope my decision does not worry you about the future of Alaskan artists. I believe artists need to be able to make a living at what they do, and I have surely spent larger chunks of my life than I, or my parents, would have liked, living on ramen noodles and spare change foraged from my couch. When I began 1000 Cranes, and in fact during my entire stay in St. Michael, my bank account was overdrawn from the up front costs of the trip and I continued to rack up bounce fees just to be able to eat. I am still recovering financially, and while I recognize the possibility of cashing in on this idea, I think this is one of those rare opportunities for me, even with my very limited means, to "pay it forward" to my community. 

I believe this idea is reaching a lot of people, and reinforcing the incredible role I know arts can play in connecting and healing our communities. As a result, I hope more members of our community will be willing to open up their wallets and vote on initiatives to lend support, financial and otherwise, to future programs involving the arts. I would love to see this project become a gateway opportunity for people who have never even considered the value of arts to become both artist and community activist through the simple act of folding a crane and joining our story. 

I believe there is inherent habit in the action of paying money; we do it so frequently that we have weakened the connection between the physical act of it and the result of our exchange. As a result, I think we've weakened the power of the activity to affect us. Without any space for the familiar act of paying money, people participating regain their creative ownership of how they'd like to get involved to move the idea along. So far this seems to be working and I want to see how long it continues.

Audio Slideshow from KTUU.com

1,000 Cranes for Alaska Campaign Soars After Tragedy

By John NorrisKTUU.com

7:03 p.m. AKDT, June 22, 2011

ANCHORAGE, Alaska -

On Saturday, June 11, a 23-year-old man, Johnny Prince, attempted to “water-skip” a snowmachine across a pond in St. Michael, AK. The snowmachine stalled and sank, bringing Prince down with it. His body was recovered more than 40 minutes later.

Leslie Kimiko Ward, a dance teacher in St. Michael for an artist residency, saw the rescue effort firsthand. As an outsider in the small community, Kimiko Ward was unsure of how to process how she felt about the event and set about busying herself.

The tragedy inspired her to take on the task of folding 1,000 paper cranes, a simple act that helped bring the community together and became a campaign to raise awareness of the risk of suicide in rural Alaska.

Though well past 1,000 cranes, Kimiko Ward’s story is still spreading. On Facebook and through email, people from all over the world have been sending their thoughts, prayers and paper cranes to the people of St. Michael.

Here is a link to the online slideshow: (If the following does not show up as a link, simply cut and paste the address into your browser window).

http://www.ktuu.com/features/ktuu-1000-cranes-for-alaska-as-20110622,0,5472746.htmlstory

My offering: A short video

• • 
    
    Crane Dance: Improvisation by Leslie Kimiko Ward, filmed by Tina Scott, edited by Leslie Ward
    Music "Reindeer Herding Song" by Pamyua
    
    
    Excerpt from email to Karina Moeller, lead singer for Pamyua, requesting permission to use their music:
    
    
    "Reindeer Herding Song" has held a special resonance for me throughout this experience. This visit marks my first time witnessing the speckled groups of reindeer grazing on the tundra. The neighboring village of Stebbins held their annual reindeer round up during my stay. And when I played this song for the kids in St. Michael their faces lit up immediately and they all began to sing along. I realized again what an amazing impact you and your group have, not only on people around the world, exposing them to the beauty of Alaska native culture through your music, and the impact you have on the culture itself, creating anthems of pride and belonging, but also what an impact you have made on this particular group of children, now near and dear to my heart.
    
    Please accept my sincerest gratitude for inspiring my feet to dance and our hearts to sing.
    
    
    Response from Karina: 
    
    
    Oh beautiful woman, we are honored that you use our music. Would love to see it, Big hug from Nome,
    Karina

Flight Home

I'm on the last leg of my flight back to Anchorage, and it feels as though I am leaving my heart behind. I can not believe how much this experience has taught me, (and so quickly), about death, about art, about healing, community, compassion, love, grace, and about myself and the power of a single inspiration.  

I am forever changed by my short time in St. Michael, and I will continue to tumble the memories of these past two weeks over in my head and heart, no longer the single grain of painful sand inside the oyster's shell, but rather like the smooth handfuls of multicolored sea glass I stuffed into my sandy pockets until they were full to overflowing.

Thank you, St. Michael, for reflecting me back to myself with such a tenderness and generosity that I hardly recognize the beautiful image before me. It is my solemn promise to you that I will hold this reflection inside my eyes such that others may see themselves in the same brilliant light. 

Showtime! Our community performance and the unveiling of 1000 Cranes

Showtime!!!

We had our big show today. The kids were bouncing off the walls all morning, clinging to me, climbing on me, and driving the other adults crazy. Together we folded a giant crane and on it we traced everyone's handprints, then crafted one final string of cranes to give away as door prizes, and finally, I caved, sending the kids out to the playground to expend some of that nervous energy. 

Co-creating the last crane

We did not find out until just about show time that the village was scheduled for a power outage from 1-4pm (our show was scheduled from 2-3). Luckily the school has a generator which run safety lights and we were able to scrounge up some battery powered speakers that would have to suffice; after all, the show must go on. 

By the time the audience began showing up, the children could hardly contain themselves. I set them about the task of greeting people at the door, welcoming them to the show, and ushering the patrons into our considerably darkened gym. We "held the curtain" for a few minutes when we saw the last Honda (ATV) on the horizon, kicking up dust, adults and kids piled on top of one another. Megan, a teacher at the school, handed out door prize tickets to each patron who entered the gym, and once everyone settled down, Megan kicked off the show with a brief synopsis of what the kids had accomplished in the classroom during summer school.

Then it was our turn. I introduced myself briefly, then got right down to business, inviting the kids to "take the stage". Taiko drumming was up first, using the "gomekan taiko" or trash can drums the kids made the first day of my residency, stretching packaging tape over 5 gallon plastic buckets, and using sanded wooden dowels for "bachi" or drumsticks. 

St. Michael Welcoming Committee

The elementary students went first, performing "Matsuri Taiko" a festival drum piece, and then the older students wowed us with their adaptation of "Hachijo" a piece composed by Stan Shikuma of Seattle Kokon Taiko, about the island of exile for the Japanese samurai.  Next came "Soran Bushi" an updated version of a traditional Japanese fishing dance, often performed by Japanese school children before a field day. The elementary students were up next, with their creative jazz dance about the animals and plants that help to repopulate the forest after a fire, and we all had a blast watching the older kids give us a sample of their breakdancing skills. Both groups showed off some of their new moves across the floor, and for our big finale we all performed the greatest American folk dance in history, a.k.a. Michael Jackson's "Thriller", complete with authentic zombie impressions.

I dismissed the children to go fetch the "surprise" and began to share with the audience some of what I had witnessed and felt during my time in St. Michael. I spoke of the shyness of the children that first day, how when I'd asked for their names, they'd silently all turned their backs. I spoke of the hard work the children had put into our preparations for the performance, and how proud I was of how far they'd come. I spoke of my perspective, both as an artist and an outsider, to the tragic events of the weekend, my emails home requesting family guidance and the parable my father shared about the oyster turning a grain of painful sand into a beautiful pearl. Finally I shared with the audience my decision to fold one thousand cranes in a gesture of healing and support. 

Still reeling from fresh trauma, it only took one mention of this weekend's accident for all of the faces to crumple and the tears to flow. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I gestured to the children waiting eagerly at the door, and in they paraded, their faces beaming with pride, a strand of cranes held aloft in each arm. The tears of the audience fell faster, but I could see their faces begin to uncrumple as we all struggled to take in as much as we could of the bittersweet moment, the colorful cranes and the proud smiles of the children mingling with the visceral memory of Saturday's failed rescue.

The raffle for the door prizes helped to quell the emotion in the room, and soon people were smiling and clapping for the winners of the big boxes of carrots, pears and milk, all leftover from the students in summer school. My residency students even used their newfound taiko skills to offer enthusiastic drum rolls for the grand prizes: the handprinted crane and the last string of cranes which we had attached to a piece of driftwood from the beach,

After the final prize was given out, the audience was invited to the lobby/cafeteria for refreshments. I had rolled my best impression of sushi earlier that morning, out of the nori (seaweed) that I had brought from home and the Uncle Ben's rice and canned tuna which I found at the AC store. Megan even managed to round up two cheese cakes and some cranberry juice to add to our feast.  

1000 Cranes. We did it!

Everyone gathered and ate and talked about the show, while the gym was left open for children to dance and play on the drums. I was thrilled to see the students I'd worked with during the residency patiently teaching their songs and dances to the younger ones, helping them hold the drumsticks, and offering words of encouragement for enthusiastic creativity. 

I felt particularly blessed when the parent of one of my older students, a member of the tribal council, expressed her gratitude for my efforts and said that my presence in St. Michael during this community heartbreak was certainly "no accident." I hugged her, thanked her, and replied "I couldn't agree more."

Support from the Department of Health

HI Leslie,

My name is James Gallanos and am the lead suicide prevention coordinator for the state. 

The reason for my e-mail is to express my gratitude for a seemingly small act of kindness and compassion that is turning eyes and ears all over the internet to the plight of suicides in rural Alaska. The recent Walk For Life on May 14^th is another example and am feeling an upwelling of energy and support to not only reach out to survivors but also to put more effort into reducing suicide. Your example is one that did not require a grant, did not require money (only the cost of paper and access to the internet), only people inclined to reach out in support of one another.

About a month ago I contacted Saunders McNeil as she is with the Alaska State Council on the Arts about possibly holding a presentation about the use of the arts as an influence on our health and wellness including suicide prevention. Saunders approached our Department here a few years ago in the prevention section to partner with us on this effort. Since that time we had directed people to the website to seek out mini-grants but we have yet to really put a bookmark on this connection between arts as a protective factor against the problems such as  suicide, and substance abuse  You just showed a small slice of that connection that is having a big impact.

We are coming up on our annual School Health and Wellness Institute on October 24-26^th and are looking for “Success Stories” of projects, activities that influence health and wellness. I am attaching the form in this e-mail if interested. I would love to incorporate this story as part of a School Postvention (after a suicide) Training that I am facilitating during the conference. I know the story is still growing and evolving but so far its incredible. I am also sharing a postvention resource guide that we just developed and some other survivor of suicide loss resources. Please let me know if this is something you would be interested in so I can let our planning committee know. Thanks. ~ James.

James Gallanos, MSW

Program Coordinator

Department of Health and Social Services

Behavioral Health / Prevention & Early Intervention Services

Office 465-8536

Fax 465-2668