and became a household name to kids on
All of this is true. And yet, it is only part of the story.The people of Shishmaref “are resourceful, they are resilient,” said Rich Stasenko, who arrived to Shishmaref to teach at the local school in the mid-’70s and never left. “I don’t see victims here.”
Yes, residents have voted twice to relocate (in 2002 and 2016). But they haven’t moved. There’s not enough money to fund the relocation. The places chosen are not optimal. And perhaps, most importantly, there are no places like Shishmaref.They might be at the edge of the world, but elsewhere they would be far from some of the prime spots for subsistence hunting of bearded seals and other sea mammals or fishing and berry picking in the tundra that make up most of their nutrition. They would be dispersed from their close-knit community that prides itself on being one of the best makers of arts and crafts in the region and that maintains traditions and celebrates birthdays, baptisms and graduations centered around their homes, their local school and one of the world’s northernmost Lutheran churches.“If they focus too much on that (on climate change), it will become too much of a weight, too much of a burden, because…there are birthday parties and there are funerals and there are sports events,” said the Rev. Aaron Silco, who is co-pastor of the Shishmaref Lutheran Church with his wife, Anna. They live next to the church and cemetery with their two-month-old son, Aidan. “There’s still life happening despite all of the weight and the burden that climate change can cast upon this community.”
The Rev. Anna Silco, a co-pastor of the Shishmaref Lutheran Church with her husband, Aaron, interacts with children while showing them mustard seeds during a Sunday service in Shishmaref, Alaska, Sunday, Oct. 2, 2022. (AP Photo/Jae C. Hong)The Rev. Anna Silco, a co-pastor of the Shishmaref Lutheran Church with her husband, Aaron, interacts with children while showing them mustard seeds during a Sunday service in Shishmaref, Alaska, Sunday, Oct. 2, 2022. (AP Photo/Jae C. Hong)
Janet Kiyutelluk, 57, wipes her tears while singing a hymn as her granddaughter, Lacey Barr, 3, watches during a Sunday service at the Shishmaref Lutheran Church in Shishmaref, Alaska, Sunday, Oct. 2, 2022. (AP Photo/Jae C. Hong)
Janet Kiyutelluk, 57, wipes her tears while singing a hymn as her granddaughter, Lacey Barr, 3, watches during a Sunday service at the Shishmaref Lutheran Church in Shishmaref, Alaska, Sunday, Oct. 2, 2022. (AP Photo/Jae C. Hong)The flag of South Korea is displayed at the Overseas Korean Adoptees Gathering in Seoul, South Korea, May 21, 2024. (AP Photo/Jae C. Hong)
The flag of South Korea is displayed at the Overseas Korean Adoptees Gathering in Seoul, South Korea, May 21, 2024. (AP Photo/Jae C. Hong)Korean adoptees have organized, and now they help those coming along behind them. Non-profit groups conduct DNA testing. Sympathetic residents, police officers and city workers of the towns where they once lived often try to assist them. Sometimes adoption agencies are able to track down birth families.
Nearly four decades after her adoption to the U.S., Nicole Motta in May sat across the table from a 70-year-old man her adoption agency had identified as her birth father. She typed “thanks for meeting me today” into a translation program on her phone to show him. A social worker placed hair samples into plastic bags for DNA testing.But the moment they hugged, Motta, adopted to the United States in 1985, didn’t need the results — she knew she’d come from this man.