The Kodiak Study: Narratives of Diversity and Acceptance on the American Frontier

This study began as a result of my observation that, on Kodiak Island, Alaska, there exists a variety of cultural influences, each disparate but out of which grows an island culture that works. That is, Kodiak Islanders appear to have found a way to make room for and respect individual cultures while simultaneously creating a larger society which integrates aspects of each culture into something that exceeds the sum of its parts. Such a synergy may have important implications for diversity studies in the lower forty-eight states of the contiguous United States (and perhaps other places in the world), especially in an age of near instantaneous global communication wherein, ironically, poor communication is rampant. Because I have elected to tell this research narrative in an organic and unfolding, almost story-like fashion, I think it necessary to preface it with a clear initial statement of purpose to facilitate the reader's easy understanding. While perhaps unorthodox, this tactic may help me tell this story as it actually happened. My research question was a simple one: How can diverse peoples, having come together in a small, somewhat isolated place, manage to not only get along, but maintain specific cultural identities and, indeed, co-create a unique society that fosters growth and adaptation (Buckley, 1967)? The scholarly literature is replete with studies of abstract cultural diversity, the struggles modern societies have in tightrope-walking between "salad bowl" viewpoints of cultural integration, wherein the separate elements come together to create something new, and traditional melting pot theories (Healey, 2014; Schaefer, 2014; Sue & Sue, 2008). The problem for researchers may be that such an either/or construction of the issue obscures both/and solutions that satisfy the cultural needs of diverse populations while simultaneously feeding the integrative needs of a larger, expansive society which requires the fresh air and ideas of open systems (von Bertalanffy, 1950, 1971). It may be that at least a partial resolution of this problem resides on a little island in the north Pacific.. Forty-five minutes south by southwest from Anchorage by air, just past the Valley of 10,000 Smokes, you know you are coming into Kodiak when the dull gray fog outside the plane window suddenly turns spruce green. It's a good thing, too, that as soon as you touch down, the pilot lays on the brakes so hard it pitches you forward in your seat, because at the end of a snub-nosed runway barely the length of an aircraft carrier sits Barometer Mountain, waiting for him to make a mistake that will cost you your life. It's happened before, several years back, and there's a crashed F-15 scar halfway up the mountainside to prove it. The plane slows and the props stop spinning. That's it. You're down. The mountain doesn't eat today. But already you know that in Alaska, the margin for error is slim. It wasn't my first trip to Alaska, or to Kodiak Island for that matter. I'd been here before about three years ago to fish king salmon and halibut and visit a couple of friends. That time, I'd noticed there were people from all over the Pacific basin living and working on Kodiak, from the Philippines, Mexico, El Salvador, various Pacific Islands, plus several Alaskan Native tribes and of course North American immigrants from all over the lower forty-eight. That time I'd gotten so caught up in the beauty, the wilderness and the fishing that I was simply awash and agog in the experience of it. After all, Alaska is nothing if not spectacular, and Kodiak is an alluring gem of an island in the north Pacific that has a way of either driving you off or making you fall in love (Sturgulewski, 2002). Alas, the love bug bit me, and now I was returning like a wayward fool seeking forgiveness and redemption for not giving myself over to her fully and completely when I first had the chance. …