More pushback against Native names

I have been pleasantly surprised by the recent progress recognizing Alaska Native place names. There have been several significant name approvals over the past year, and these have been mostly welcomed by Alaskans, both Native and non-Native. So perhaps it was only a matter of time before we started to see some pushback. Yesterday that pushback arrived in the form of a commentary written by Rick Sinnott in the Alaska Dispatch. But before I get to that let's review some of the significant Native place name changes which have been approved recently.

Some recent name changes

Over the years most of the Alaska Native place names approved in Alaska have been for places which otherwise lacked an official English name. These are not so much official name changes but rather additions to the list of official names. For the most part these names refer to fairly minor geographic features, since they are by definition ones which do not yet have official names on USGS maps. But sometimes quite prominent geographic features turn out to lack an official name. Such was the case with the long ridge in Denali State Park, which since 2002 has been officially known by its Dena'ina name, K'esugi Ridge.

These are generally uncontroversial proposals, though sometimes controversy can arrive when there is opposition to the concept of Native names in general. For example, when the Lower Tanana name Troth Yeddha' was proposed for the ridge on which the University of Alaska Fairbanks campus sits, some argued that there was insufficient evidence documenting usage of this name. At one point the UA Board of Regents removed the name proposal from their agenda, citing the existence of a "controversy" regarding the name. Eventually, though, the Regents endorsed the proposal, and the name Troth Yeddha' was officially adopted by the US Board of Geographic names in 2012.
Some name changes are uncontroversial because they replace pejorative or potentially offensive names. The Lower Tanana name Łochenyatth Creek was easily approved in 2012 as an alternative to the previous official name, Negrohead Creek. Ditto for the Gwich'in name Tł'oo Hanshyah Mountain, replacing Negrohead Mountain.

Increasingly, Native names are seen as the preferred alternative. A recent proposal to name a peak near Juneau after Jon Scribner was met with a counter proposal to instead use the Tlingit name, Tlaxsatanjín. The Tlingit proposal won out--even with the diacritic underscore and tone mark in the spelling. Maybe people are beginning to understand that supposedly "unnamed" places may well have been named by Native peoples generations ago. There are actually fewer "unnamed" places in Alaska than current maps would indicate.

Then last year we saw another historic name change. The Gwich'in name Draanjik River was adopted as the official name for the feature formerly known as Black River. Flowing for more than 160 miles from the Alaska-Yukon border to the Porcupine River, Draanjik is a major Alaskan river. At the time it was approved by the US Board in April 2014 it was easily the largest geographic feature in Alaska to have its name replaced by a Native name. This decision was followed by another decision in September to adopt the Gwich'in names Ch'iidrinjik River and Teedrinjik River as replacements for the North and Middle Forks of the Chandalar, another major Alaskan river system. This decision was particularly significant given that the Alaska State Historical Commission had resoundingly rejected the proposal in April. It is highly unusual, if not unprecedented, for the federal Board to overrule the state in these decisions. This is has truly been an historic year for recognition of Alaska Native names.

What about Denali?

Oh, and did I mention Denali? Another historic moment occurred August 30, on the eve of the President's trip to Alaska. Obama used executive powers to designate Denali as the official name for the peak previously known as McKinley, thereby ending a long-standing naming dispute in which all attempts to adopt the Native name were blocked procedurally by the Congressional delegation from McKinley's home state of Ohio. This was a victory, no doubt, but it was a victory of another sort. Denali has long been used as the unofficial name of the mountain by Alaskans both Native and non-Native. It is a name beloved by all, imparted as a personal name to dogs and daughters by non-Native Alaskans of all political stripes. There are 38 Denali's currently enrolled at the University of Alaska. Hundreds of Alaskan businesses owned by non-Natives incorporate the name Denali. Consider Denali Dental, Denali Brewing, Denali Theater, Denali Electric. There's even a Denali Sewer and Drain for your emergency plumbing needs. My point is that the Denali name change is low-hanging fruit. The controversy surrounding Denali didn't arise from it being a Native name; it was only controversial because of political meddling from Ohio. Non-Native Alaskans long ago adopted Denali as their own.

Fear of Native names

This leads us back to yesterday's ADN commentary. Sinnott argues that Denali is fine but warns us to be careful of going further. Given that non-Native Alaskans' affection for the Denali name, Sinnott's stance does little to foster Native names. He is basically saying that he can accept those names which have already become bleached enough to count as non-Native, but he warns against those other foreign-sounding names. Sinnott is particularly worried about what he calls "unpronounceable" names. Since when did Alaskans (or Americans more generally) start worrying about names being pronounceable? English speakers have readily adopted names from foreign languages, applying pronunciations as they see fit. Consider the recently-replaced name Chandlar. This name is an attempt to pronounce the French phrase gens du large, literally 'wandering people'. Even strange sequences of letters don't phase us, as in names like Juneau. When we need to use a name we find ways to pronounce it. This may not be the same way that a Native speaker would pronounce the name, but that sort of historical linguistic accuracy is not really the point. Sometimes we even find ways around the pronunciation by using unofficial names instead, as Alaskans did for many years by substituting Mt. McKinley for Denali. 

Honolulu street signs (Wikimedia Commons)

To see how this process of creative pronunciation plays out we need look no further than our neighbors to the south in the 50th state. Native names have been used in Hawai‘i for generations, by both Native and non-Native peoples. Yet few of these people bother to pronounce or write the names as a Native speaker would. Take the name of the state itself. It is officially Hawai‘i, with an ‘okina between the last two vowels. Yet the ‘okina is often omitted or replaced by a regular apostrophe. The the w in the name is sometimes pronounced like a v, mimicking the Native speaker pronunciation, but more often as an ordinary w. The famous beach in Honolulu? The name is actually Waikīkī, but few people bother to pronounce or write the two long vowels at the end. Hawaiians have come up with their own received pronunciations, often ignoring the original Hawaiian language in the process. Is this a bad thing? I don't see how it's any worse than Alaskans pronouncing the name Denali with the first vowel sounding like the a in sofa rather than the ee in see. It's not the Native Koyukon pronunciation, but it still clearly recognizes the Native origin of the name.  

Celebrating Native names

Sinnott ends his piece with a vaguely racist comment:

"After we run out of Native American names for geographic features, we can start renaming subdivisions. Meadow View, for instance, could be called Forty-six Closely Packed Duplexes."

I'm not even sure how to respond to this. First of all, the name Meadow View is already a descriptive name; it's just that once we name things we tend to internalize them as labels rather than analyzing their literal meaning. But the more insidious aspect of Sinnott's comment is that it seems to imply that Native names are constructed, invented, just like Meadow View and the tongue-in-cheek Duplexes name. Nothing could be further from the truth. Sure, Native names are not timeless, to the extent that there must have been times when each of those names were given. But for the most part those times lie in the distant past. Names have been passed down through generations, serving as a record of human relationship with the land. Recognizing these original Native names thus honors this deep human connection. This is the reason that non-Native Hawaiians are happy to attempt to pronounce street names which would seem to Rick Sinnott to be unpronounceable. The simple act of attempting that pronunciation provides a connection to the land, a bond with generations which have gone before. 

We Alaskans inhabit a culturally and geographically rich landscape, and place names are the vehicle through which language unites culture and geography. Regardless of whether our ancestors have walked this land for thousands of years or we have just arrived, Alaska Native place names connect us to that landscape. Recognizing Native names as official names should be seen as an opportunity, not a burden. Official names are not dictates; Sinnott is still free to pronounce Tlaxsatanjín however he sees fit. Instead, official names celebrate this great land. We should welcome Native names, not fear them.