CreAKtive Moments.

If you had asked me to list out a few adjectives concerning my traits before I embarked on my journey of service, the word “creative” would not have been on the list. Almost three years later and I feel that this characteristic is not only my most marketable skill but also the one that I am most proud of.

True fact: I’ve wanted to be a DJ for as far back as I can remember.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve always been drawn towards creative things. In school I thrived in subjects such as writing and theater while shying away from curriculum that required me to work closely with the left side of my brain. However, when it came time to develop a pathway to my collegiate future, I went for a more rigid business based path because I wasn’t sure how to take the subjects I loved such as music, acting, writing, video, and communication and turn them into a job. Afterall I was no artist – I loved music but had never committed to learning how to play an instrument.  While I found acting and writing to bring a lot of joy into my life, I couldn’t see myself moving to New York City to make a lifestyle out of a meager hobby.

The things I truly enjoyed seemed out of place in the future I was carving out for myself.
This is where service comes in. While the left side of my brain remembers that the service opportunities I have taken have allowed me to develop my resume and work towards some concrete life goals, the more playful hemisphere remembers that in the last three years I have composed music about Iditarod mushers, produced rap battles about benthic macroinvertebrates, directed educational pieces on topics such as recycling, worked as a dinosaur to promote environmental education, spent countless hours acting as a superstar DJ for Western Alaska, acted as my own paparazzi here on the KNOM blog, and so, so much more.

Making Eva look even more awesome that normal is also part of my freetime.

When it comes to developing my talents, each year of service has worked as matryoshka stacking doll. My first year taught me the importance of finding play amongst hard physical labor. My second year allowed me to spread my wings with my interest in writing, music, and content production.  And my time at KNOM? I’d like to think that I’m leaving the cocoon as  a butterfly or at least a compelling-looking moth. Everyday I get to write spots and shows for air.  Everyday I get to analyze and select music for our listeners. Everyday I get to spend time with Western Alaska and use my voice to help inspire. Everyday is a welcome challenge to use my creative abilities.
Not that long ago I would have been an unbeliever that I could do a job like this. I simply did not feel confident in my abilities. Still to this day I find myself asking if the content I’ve produced is up to par, or if my time on air is interesting and worth attention. Luckily I’ve had wonderful people backing me up and helping me find my way when I don’t know where to go next. If this text happens to reach the eyes of someone who is interested in pursuing a service opportunity, specifically that which is available at KNOM, don’t let the responsibility scare you. Maybe you don’t consider yourself creative at all. Perhaps the word outgoing is last on your list of adjectives used to label yourself. Whatever your hesitation might be, I believe that a journey in service can teach you as much about yourself and the adaptability inside of you, as it can about the communities you serve. Take a risk.

There’s always a photo op in Nome.

Another note about this particular service experience – it is a great way to develop your interests in your freetime as well and integrate them into your work. Western Alaska is a vast and open place which allows your heart and mind to mirror those free and unbound characteristics. Perhaps you’ll use your free time to meditate on a mountaintop overlooking the frozen ocean?  Maybe you’ll finally get around to writing that novel you told your friends about. Whatever it is, I know that all of us current KNOM volunteers have found the time to dive into our hobbies and passions while serving here.  Speaking for myself, my free time meant finally developing my dabbling in music production to solidifying myself as an amateur musician. I’m not the next David Guetta or Calvin Harris, but I have enjoyed my many weekends spent composing and producing music. The challenge and the time was ever present and I will leave here knowing that I made something of it.
What will service bring out in you?

From Marble City To A Gold Rush Town.

When my friend Jason traveled from Knoxville to Nome the other week, he seemed to bring a few suitcases full of that warm Southeastern sunshine with him. The evening he arrived was the first of about a week of snow melting, come-out-and-play kind of weather. And what does one do after spending an Alaskan winter indoors? Well, you make the most of the new playground that has been defrosted.
Maybe it was simply the excitement of having a good friend from home by my side for a few days. Maybe it was the excitement of seeing all the flora and fauna that I haven’t even thought about since winter began. Maybe it was the realization that my time in Nome is beginning to come to a close. Whatever the contributing factors may have been, I think I lived more of Alaska in those couple of days than I have in the entirety of my stay here.
I sometimes get nervous about playing the part of tour guide. After months of living the day-to-day in Nome, I have forgotten how exciting this place is from an outside perspective. As much as I don’t like to admit it, I take so much of the novelty and beauty of Nome for granted by just looking at it from my bedroom window. As silly as it may sound, I get so comfortable with my work and home routine that I forget we are living in the aptly named Last Frontier.
Luckily my friend Jason can be described as “adventure ready.” In his short stay, we went snowshoeing, explored an abandoned dredge, tracked down the largest herd of muskox I had ever seen, all while introducing him to the ins and outs of Nome daily life as well as that of the KNOM community house. In some respects, it is the latter that I enjoy showing off the most. I won’t paint a picture that our humble home is always brimming with energy, harmony, and laughter – but when our paths do lead towards those things, it is something else to experience. Dance parties, family dinners, movies, and just time spent standing in the kitchen talking – we have gotten comments from all of our visitors about the quality of our family time and our ability to easily open our hearts to hospitality.
*All photos are by my wonderfully talented photographer friend, Jason R. Scott.

On the frozen ocean.

The White Alice site.

In a dredge.

Snowshoeing!

Muskox!

On Anvil Mountain.

Ptarmigan.

Post dance party photo opportunity.

Arctic fox.

In the abandoned dredge.

Steady as a mountain goat.

Margaret and Josh.

The burled arch.

The Late Afternoon show with Josh!

Time to explore.

Knoxville, in a sense, is my spiritual home; where I will return when my time as a KNOM Volunteer is over. Having someone from there, who was part of my life before I set off on this adventure, and who simultaneously fills the role of being an individual who will be part of my life when all is said and done here, put me in the kind of mindset I really needed. It reminded me a lot of why I wanted this to be my next stepping stone in life; why I wanted so badly to be a part of KNOM’s mission. As I look back on my time here, I am, of course, so grateful for the time I have gotten to spend with my fellow Nomeites, but when it came to opening my eyes to view the wonders that reside around me, I really have to thank all of those who have come to visit us during our time in Nome and all of you who are visiting us through the content of this blog.
Thank you for sharing this adventure with us. You help make it even more worthwhile.

Parental Advisory.

My parents don’t travel very much so when they told me just a few short months ago that they were coming to visit me in Nome, I was pretty blown away.  In my past three years of service my mom and dad have only had a couple of opportunities to peek inside my day to day work life.  While I know that they are proud of what I am doing with my life right now, it means a lot for them to be able to see the ins and outs of service that I’m dedicating myself to during this time.
After you’ve lived in Nome for a couple of months and the initial novelty begins to sit on the back burner, you find yourself a bit nervous about keeping busy.  When it comes time to have visitors you might worry about how to keep them occupied in this small town when many of the roads are still dwelling under feet of snow, the ocean is less of a summertime beach experience and more so a lunar landscape, and hikes are limited only to those with snowshoes willing to brave the chill awaiting them at the apex.  All of my roommates have heard me express my angst at keeping my folks busy and entertained during their visit and each of them assured me that they would have plenty of fodder in which to make an adventure out of.
They were so right.

Dad out dog mushing!

In just a week’s time my parents have become versed in dog mushing, walks on the frozen ocean, negative temperatures (not a commonality with our home of North Carolina), native clothing, on-air radio time, and many other Western Alaskan gifts.  In all honesty, I don’t think I ever realized how adventurous good ol’ Ma and Pa were until I found myself waiting for them to return home from hours of cross-tundra mushing.  It’s funny how the roles reversed in my life for a few days.  Instead of my parents worrying about me during my Alaskan adventure, here I was wondering when my parents would return to me from their very own.
After having spent so much time away from home post-college, it was so wonderful to have home come and visit me for a bit.  The older I get the more I realize that the same fear I had when Mom and Dad would drop me off at school for me to embark on a solo journey is still ever present.  I am grateful to have very supportive parents who, even if they don’t entirely understand why I feel I need to fly across the world to be on the radio, give me the courage to embark on this adventure just as they did in my days of grade school.
Should you ever have the opportunity to visit Nome, don’t worry about planning around events and weather.  I say you might as well just dive right in.  Though we do live in a small community, there is always something to do, interesting people to meet, and places to explore.

Taking a break on the frozen ocean.

Getting ready to say goodbye!

At the station.

Nome!

Classic Nome tourist photo.

Mom recording some public safety spots for KNOM!

This was taken on the day of their 29th wedding anniversary!

Mom’s view mushing.

Exploring the pressure ridges in the sea.

Dad, one of the three lucky Swedes, and Mom.

At the Kawerak Native Clothing Exhibit.

Yeah…it was cold.

A Warm Hello.

Bethel is known for its taxi services.  In fact, the city is estimated to have one cab for every 84 individuals.
Yet I stood in the blowing snow on Thursday morning outside of the Bethel airport and could not for the life of me figure out how the Taxi system worked in Bethel.  Despite my freezing extremities and flight fatigue, I couldn’t help but laugh at myself.
My village trip to Bethel was certainly a stand-out experience among my months as a KNOM volunteer.  The whole setup was not only fulfilling on a personal level but was in addition to that, strangely off beat from the rest of my time as a volunteer.  First off, to call my experience a village trip isn’t entirely correct.  Afterall Bethel, Alaska is composed of a population that more than doubles that of Nome.  You’ll find within its borders a nationally known chain restaurant, hardware stores, paved roads, and even a stoplight intersection if you really look for it.  Not unlike a normally ordained KNOM village trip, I was there for a very important mission – to collect Native Drum & Dance music from the annual Cama-i festival.

(Cama-i – pronounced chum-eye.  A word meaning, “A Warm Hello”.)

Native Alaskan music is a very important part of KNOM’s daily programming.  On my show alone you can hear several Native Songs from the like of Hooper Bay, St. Lawrence Island, Unalakleet and many more paired back to back with the rest of our musical catalog.  I feel it is so important to feature Native songs in this way.  At the end of the day, I hope a very special message comes across with these songs.  I want people to know how important this music is, how much life and knowledge they hold.  They should be treated with respect while simultaneously being enjoyed as any other kind of music even if it isn’t embraced by the masses and were never part of the charting music world.  The vibrancy they hold can’t be measured on any sales chart.
By the end of the third day of the festival I had collected over 100 Native Drum and Dance songs ranging anywhere from 45 second pieces to 15 minute musical sets.  As I write I am organizing and burning all of this music to cd so that it can be shared with Western Alaska for years to come.  Just another awesome week as Music Director.

Unicorns.

By the time I get around to publishing this post, our humble Volunteer Blog should be filling with musings, photos, and excitement concerning Iditarod.  While it’s true that this sled dog race has, for good reason, consumed our lives as we each play integral parts in reporting the race, I believe it is important to remember what really matters about day-to-day life as a KNOM Volunteer.
Unicorns.
I’m not joshing you, pulling your leg, or just messing with your perceptions of what it means to be a KNOM Volunteer as a large part of my experience here has indeed revolved around these majestic creatures.  Should you the reader be one of the lucky individuals who is accepted for a year of service in whimsical Nome, Alaska, unicorns might just end up meaning something special to you as well.

Some of the earliest remnants of unicorn paraphernalia within the volunteer house include these mysterious room markers carbon dated back to August of 2012.

I wish I could trace for you the history of unicorns within the V-House but, like most wonderful and magical things, the origin of the story is blurry.  What I do know is that the birth of this volunteer based meme springs from a shared wish by all of us volunteers to maintain a since of whimsy and wonderment within our walls.
Now I feel I need to send a special signal to the up and coming KNOM volunteers.  First off, do whatever you can to embrace whimsy.  You’ll find that adopting a fantastical interest serves you well in an offbeat community such as Nome and a little magic in your day to day life can take you far in the dark, cold days of winter.  Secondly, not unlike an archeological dig site, I hope that somehow the unicorn friends I have helped to uncover remain as a presence within the house.  Sure, you don’t have to buy your own unicorn masks, bake unicorn cookies, or even keep our copy of the DVD The Last Unicorn.  What I feel you should do however, is always keep a spirit of something lighthearted and enchanting within your hearts.  If that spirit happens to be in the shape of a unicorn, then more power to you.

I’ll leave you with this thought with some of my favorite unicorn photos from the past few months.  Enjoy!

In studio A.

Bringing Whimsy to The Late Afternoon Show.

Sub-Arctic Whimsy.

Never leave home without one.

Just tanking up the station car.

Attack! Photo originally by David Dodman.

Bringing Eva cookies!

Makeshift alicorn.

Halloween or just another evening?

The CommUnicorn.

Unicorns <3 Rats.

Hanging at the Schmidt’s House.

At Worst.

AmeriJosh.

At my best, I am a strong-willed confident individual who has been trained to fight wildfires, hike through streams, crawl alone through culverts and pipes as I machete through vines and branches, and keep my cool working in some of the most crowded, hot, and rude places one can imagine.
At my worst, I am someone who can be paralyzed by the fear that simply comes with answering the telephone at work. Sometimes the things that stop me in my tracks are as small of tasks as one can imagine, in other, often more rare times, the things that do scare are things that rightly should. As Iditarod begins to rear its head around the corner, I often feel myself feeling small and disconnected in a job that is, more than anything, about being heard and in tune with thousands of listeners. In order to deal with what I face in the present, and wrap my head around what is left to encounter, I look behind me. Not unlike my academic pursuits and the service opportunities with AmeriCorps that I tackled before arriving in Nome, my time here is all about the free fall. I believe in my heart that, if you have the opportunity, you should spend as much of your time free falling in your young life. Dive in even if you can’t see the bottom. Travel to places unseen, attempt tasks far above your skill set, and most importantly, challenge yourself to become uncomfortable.
In this moment, the last part of that goal is certainly being accomplished. While I acknowledge that Iditarod is a time of excitement and communities coming together, the fear of the time frame ahead of me closely reflects my fear of picking up the telephone and knowing a stranger is at the other end.  How will my actions steer events?  How will I be perceived?  Will people like me?  It may seem silly to fret so over a race, but when I’m in the moment, Iditarod can feel like the biggest thing in my life.  In my stress, I lose the sense of whimsy I hold dear, and I hold back in my interactions with others.

Tue and I.

When I’m at my worst, people push me to my best here at KNOM. I’m not the type to exaggerate other people’s kind actions, if anything, I tend to be too dismissive of the kind actions I see people perform. I can’t ignore the uplifting feeling I get when I am around everyone at the station recently. For that reason, I’d like to take my blog time today to thank everyone who has helped me realize at the end of the day, that they are here for me.
Should you ever find yourself on 3rd Street in Nome, stop by the station. You don’t have to be particularly in tune with your sensitive side to feel the love that comes from inside. I find it difficult to describe this love, and in my less proud moments I choose to dismiss the notion of it completely, but what I do know about it is that it doesn’t judge, it doesn’t discriminate, and it offers itself at no cost. People can attach religious labels, descriptors of our programming, or any array of adjectives to it – but I believe in the end, the love I feel when I am among those here at the station transcends all of it. I’m not the most sentimental guy in the world, but I trust myself when I say that I feel it every day when I walk through the doors, when I turn on my radio, and when I speak with Western Alaska. It’s very real. Everyday it is something that I carry in my heart.
If I made a list of everyone who at some point, often daily, lifted me up, carried me through, or simply showed interest in my well being, I could name everyone I work with and so many very special people beyond the walls of KNOM. I’m afraid that saying thank you to all is what I have to give in this format. You make all of the good, the bad, the exciting, and the mundane worth it. You make me feel the love.
At worst, I am in the good hands.