I saw something that bothered me today. It’s not something I see every day, but something that I’ve seen and heard about often enough to recognize that it wasn’t unusual. Leaving the Fred Meyer on Northern Lights, my husband and I saw a Native woman sitting in the lobby, the left side of her face red and swelling so angrily that she could barely open her eye. She was not making eye contact with anyone, just facing forward, holding a plastic bag of groceries.
I’ve seen this before, and so have you.
Walking out to the car, John and I saw her following behind a man who was yelling and cursing at her as she followed him silently, a few steps behind, through the parking lot. He wasn’t much taller than her, but he seemed much larger than she was.
I thought about doing something, but I wasn’t sure what I could do.
We talked about whether we should call the police, but I wasn’t sure what I could say. I hadn’t seen the man hit her, though it seemed clear to me that with his sudden gesticulations as he mumbled and cursed through the parking lot, it wouldn’t be surprising to see him strike her.
We decided to call. The dispatcher asked me questions about their location, and what they were wearing. She assured me that they would have someone look into it, though I don’t know what the result of that would be. Both man and woman were dressed for cold weather, and I wouldn’t be surprised from the look of them that they might be homeless. What would she do if a police officer DID catch up to them and ask her what happened?
Violence against women, and especially against Native women, is a major problem for this state. As someone who has lived in Anchorage for years now, I’ve heard enough stories to realize that the prevailing attitude is “It’s their business.”
Well, it’s not just their business. It’s everyone’s business when someone is victimized in our community. Ignoring bruises and suspicious injuries isn’t a kindness to the victim, it’s cowardly. Maybe that woman doesn’t feel like she has anyone to talk to, maybe she is afraid of how her life would change if she tried to escape her situation. Maybe she can’t see an escape from her situation, and is resigned to it. Maybe she wouldn’t want me getting involved at all. I can appreciate the complexity of the multitude of possible situations, believe me.
But we can not allow our community to be complicit in abuse of any kind. If we stay silent, like I almost did today, behavior like this will continue.
On October 19, 2009, Deputy Attorney General David Ogden said, “The levels of violence against American Indian and Alaska Native women are shocking, and cannot be tolerated.” He continued, “indeed, in some tribal land counties, murder rates for American Indian and Alaska Native women are 10 times the national average.” Amnesty International’s site bears the statement:
“Native American and Alaska Native women are more than 2.5 times more likely to be raped or sexually assaulted than other women in the United States in general. A complex maze of tribal, state and federal jurisdictions allows perpetrators to rape with impunity and in some cases even encourages assaults.”
What kind of a community can we hope to be when things like this go on and eyes turn away? Can we bear the damage of the emotional and physical abuse that taint the soul of our society? Can you? I can’t.
Next time, I will not be so slow to react. I hope that you won’t either.
If you need help, or you know someone who does, check out the Abused Women’s Aid in Crisis (AWAIC) website. If you are interested, AWAIC is always looking for donations, and the key items they’re seeking are usually listed on the main page of their site.
Let’s help each other when we can, and raise the quality of life for everyone in Alaska.
“There is no power greater than a community discovering what it cares about.” – Margaret Wheatley












Violence, abuse, rape, depravity, poverty, hunger… All symptoms of a society that can stare it in the face each day without reporting it, rebuking it, fighting it. If we allow ourselves to be abused and if we allow ourselves to see abuse without report, we allow ourselves to be a culture of abused.
Thank you for calling. Continue to call out. Encourage others to call out. Alaska is a culture that does not call out. And we bleed as the result.
Bloodshed is not an attribute of any culture.
Thank you for this post. It is horrible to have to live the way some women live. We also forget that this kind of bullying behavior always ends in violence. The women get to the point they can’t take it and then end up in prison or the man kills them. It is really bad in some of the subarctic villages due to isolation and community acceptance of it. I always thought the women in the villages should form a domestic violence pact and when one women is being abused they could all go to her house and stand around her. Of course that would only work if she could call someone or someone heard yelling.
Part of the problem is the “help” I have heard cops say stuff like “he’s a real go-getter” and maybe he just watches a lot of porn,when referring to a sexual offender, and laugh. That was here in Anchorage. I can’t imagine what the situation in the village is like. Part of the problem is when it is so entrenched that women asked for it, deserved it or wanted it.
Well said, Lynn. I think that part of the problem is that, when a culture is perpetuated by complacence – and de facto, tolerance – it’s not too unreasonable to project that this sentiment would eventually extend to the police department as well. It’s become part of the vernacular, and its up to society, as a whole, to right this. It’s the same case here in Fairview with steeply increased gunfire at night. The bullets shooting past our house are sharply rising in numbers, but I’m not convinced that the calls to report them are.
Change the reaction, change the culture. We need to react in reflection of how unacceptable the offense is. Otherwise, you’re absolutely right: it will be adopted as a natural state.