Benefiting at work from Brain Based Insights

 The most unpredictable Arctic adventures often set the stage for learning during my two years in the high Arctic, when Inuit leaders or their elders took the helm. Once during an amazing skidoo race to the Igloolik Airport , I narrowly caught my plane to another remote community near Greenland . It was Saturday so Cecilia, head of the Government Social Work, was free. On somebody's skidoo, Cecilia, a native Inuit from Igloolik and close friend of my students, roared up to my home in the only vehicle she could find - a skidoo to transport me to the airport. We hopped on, piled four bags on top of us and under us, leaving the big bag for Cecilia to race back for. What a ride! We zoomed through Igloolik's snow-packed, uneven ditches, out of town to the airport, as if we were headed down Aspen mountain in a ski race.

Snowmobile heaving from side to side, we skidded into gullies over bumps and teetered on the edge of snow banks while I held onto blowing bags, and held my breath. Cecilia raced on, undaunted by the tundra's' icy obstacles. Not dressed for a skidoo, in sub zero temperatures I was unprepared for the rugged terrain we encountered. I questioned my own ability to hang on, bags flying in the wind, my frozen face, and Cecilia's expression of sheer conquest over the elements.

As I thawed from under the ice formed over my eyeballs, Cecilia burst through the airport door - red-faced and smiling. Hurling my large bag in front of me, she pronounced. "Hope you don't have breakables, Ellen. Your bag flew off the skidoo three times." "No problem." I shot back, "It could have been me flying off the skidoo"

Arctic tundra doubles as classroom to many Inuit hunters who circled daily the frozen bay outside my front window, skidoos pulling qamutiqs, and dogsleds racing toward the flow edge, where hunters would return with narwhal, seals, caribou, polar bear. Food, clothing and sometimes tools, for elders whose only currency is wisdom and their land. Elders traditionally teach youth to navigate, build temporary homes on rugged tundra far north of tree lines, know when the lip of an iceberg is calving, and distinguish the roars of ice cracking and falling off a glacier, as it tumbles into the sea. Young leaders learn from elders to know the sounds and understand patterns in order to hear an iceberg's warning. To not hear might result in your ship torn open, your tiny craft toppled, or failure to return home before a dangerous blizzard.

Lessons emerged even from the midnight skies. As darkness is closed in on Igloolik, there was no way of knowing how to react. The curtains of night simply closed off the sunlight and I awoke morning after morning to a midnight sky. Instead of gloom, though, darkness often clothed us in magically clear, sky sparking with crystalline stars and northern lights. When the sun hid its warmth, the moon filled the daylight gap with a spectacular show of its own. One morning I sat in my living room sipping tea early, amazing pink hues danced against the twilight sky.

From my front window I watched a skidoo move along the road pulling a long wooden qamutik sleigh. On the sleigh sat a woman and man dressed in sealskin clothes, obviously enjoying the morning moonlight show. The qamutik sleigh moved against a sky blended in rose and palest lavender. To the right I could see Venus, the last of the stars, twinkling light a dozen stars clustered into one, as if it enjoyed the spotlight on its own. Then, when the summer sun circled our tiny communities without setting, darkness became continuous summer, where brilliant orange, purple red and yellow sprigs introduced spring to life on the Arctic tundra. Together, we sang the Beatles' song, Here Comes the Sun, with new appreciation for a return of the sun's light and warmth.

Depending on problems that emerged, Inuit responded with hands-on unified knowledge of physics, applied solutions with the sleek skill of an athlete, or introduced an elder's wisdom about Arctic environments. Their unique learning approaches, problem-solving abilities and community teamwork, could richly enhance a few gaps in our Southern odyssey about what it means to know and know that we know. What do you think?