The role of the vocational rehab worker in the lives of disabled Native Alaskans

From The Arctic Sounder in Alaska:

It might seem that a tribal vocational rehabilitation worker’s job is pretty straightforward — find jobs for disabled Alaska Natives and Native Americans. But spend a little time with professionals of the field and you quickly see that their role is anything but simple.

They play the part of job coach, cultural ambassador, social worker, counselor, confidante and community advocate. They are called upon not just to help people find their way to jobs, but understand their unemployment. Most of all, they help people to believe in themselves and their futures.

“The biggest obstacle is that individuals feel that because they have become disabled, that’s all they’re going to be. They wonder, ‘What can I do for the rest of my life?’” said Teva Roanhorse, president of the Consortia of Administrators for Native American Rehabilitation (CANAR), which had its semiannual meeting in Anchorage on May 10-13.

The national group includes 73 tribal vocational rehabilitation programs, 11 in Alaska. The conference operates like a support group for those who spend their professional lives supporting others. They can exchange ideas, hash out differing perspectives, conduct research and learn about each other.

Vocational rehabilitation is for everyone, but tribal groups often face extra challenges. Their communities are often rural, with low levels of accessibility. They are subject to similar funding complexities and congressional actions. Tribal members often struggle not only with their disability, but with melding their traditions and culture into the western workplace.

But while they share many similarities, tribal groups vary widely.

“When people say American Indian or Alaska Native, they often don’t realize that the communities are very diverse from each other. It’s important to understand where they are coming from,” said Roanhorse, who is Navajo from Arizona.

Understanding the different cultures was a big part of the goal of last week’s conference, which featured presentations from culture, food and traditions alongside sessions on grant writing and job training.

It’s the first time the conference has come to Alaska, and Roanhorse said that while tribes in the Lower 48 are different from each other, Alaska Native groups are even more different. Many Alaska communities exist off the road system, giving Alaskans some unique issues. Audience members gasped when Sara Neubauer, project director of the Kawerak Vocational Rehabilitation Program in Nome, mentioned that a gallon of milk in Elim costs $15.80 and a loaf of bread is $5.75.

“That’s why we need to hunt and gather. Our subsistence lifestyle is really critical,” Neubauer said. “When you subsist, you contribute to your family in an invaluable way. You gather food and are able to feed your family.”

But, Neubauer added, subsistence alone is not enough. “You need cash to go hunting, you need cash for your gun, you need cash to fuel your ATV.”

The need for both subsistence and cash makes Alaska vocational rehabilitation work even more complex. It’s often not enough to find employment that would not be impeded by a physical or mental disability; companies must also be willing to work around a subsistence schedule.

Dallas-Lee Brower, project director for the Tribal Vocational Rehabilitation Program in Barrow, said that sometimes finding the flexibility her clients need is a matter of getting creative with self-employment. Brower said she’s encouraged people pursue work in fields like jewelry appraisal, nature guiding, giving manicures and pedicures and paralegal work. She proceeds from the interests of her clients, she said, then makes suggestions without giving direction.

“We had a client who was not succeeding in obtaining or maintaining work, but no one had ever asked him what he liked to do,” Brower said. It turned out that what he like to do was music, and once Brower knew she was able to help him establish himself playing gigs in his community.

“We often look for something flexible. It’s a question of what would allow the individual to be successful,” Brower said.

Knowing the individuals and the culture that the individuals live in, and what Brower calls “the ebb and flow of employment,” is key to the success of tribal programs. Working from within the cultures means that tribal professionals “are more attuned to the rhythms of individuals and cultural ways. When someone from the outside often does not appreciate the time things may take,” Brower said.

“Our outcome is employment but our process is culture,” said Jim Warne, director of Center for American Indian Rehabilitation at San Diego State University.

Warne said that nationally, tribal vocational rehabilitation programs have a 67 percent success rate. But despite their successes, these programs, like others, are vulnerable to shifts in the economy and government funding.

As operation costs, from office overhead to transportation and hotel rates, have gone up, the 11 Alaska programs have scrambled to make up the difference. They didn’t get a hand from the federal government this year with the passage of President Obama’s stimulus bill, the American Recovery and Reinvestment Act (though Brower noted they did receive some funding indirectly through the state).

“We were hoping to receive even a nominal amount because we are a job program,” Brower said. “I guess we didn’t have a big enough voice.”

It may not have been heard on Capitol Hill, but George Edwardson, who works with Brower at the Inupiat Community of the Arctic Slope, said that the people who find jobs for the disabled have actions that are bigger than words.

“They take care of the handicapped, they don’t push them aside,” Edwardson said.

“Their hearts are as big as the state.”