Lihkku Beaivvin!

Going to work on Friday it was 17.Mai = our constitution day in Norway! I was wearing my new 'Lyngen-kofta' that was made for me when I was back home last, and Elliot was wearing her Luhkka. Two 'Cappa Nieidas'! 

I have always known that my father's family come from Birtavarre in the Lyngen-area, a Sea-Sámi area of Northern Norway. And when I was doing my PhD I found out that also my great-grandmother on my mother's side came from exactly this area. Just across the fjord, she grew up at 'Mikalsabakken' with her Sámi mother and father who both had succumbed to the assimilation policies and renounced their Sáminess and adapted a Norwegian lifestyle; all in order to gain access to what the Norwegian society had to offer. Although she never identified as Sámi publically, she taught her children and grandchildren Sámi values and respecting all the knowledge possessed by Sámi. Perhaps that was her quiet way of embracing Sámi culture.

The results of my thesis argue that the dilemma of Sámi identity often manifest itself in denial or concealment, through generations. And the suffering may have been widespread amongst those who were in opposition to the assimilation policies – but probably even more deeply felt, not to mention even more traumatic, amongst those who tried most eagerly to adapt to the assimilation pressure. Denial was found most places. Denial, that for decades was like a blanket covering life in the northern villages. Sámi was still a word of taboo. To deny the Sámi identity was a survival strategy.

With more than a century of experiencing a forced assimilation policy by the

Norwegian government, the so-called Norwegianization has made its impression on

people. Elise never proclaimed her Sámi heritage, and being the strong woman that her story has told us that she was, tells me that the forces against Sámi must have been incredibly strong and many. She disregarded society’s norms in regards to women, work and education – she followed all of her dreams and lived life in her own way. Why would she not admit to her Sámi roots? One reason could be that the Norwegianization was at its peak during Elise’s early and middle years. The assimilation policies were so encompassing of society that perhaps she worried for her family. Perhaps she worried about discrimination for her children and children’s children. Perhaps she wanted to open doors for them, as her parent’s choice had opened doors for her. Perhaps she even worried that the policies in place would discriminate against her – was it possible that she could be denied to practice midwifery? She might have had these thoughts on her mind, as the policies did express an exclusion of a Sámi workforce.

Elise was tireless in her work as a midwife, and during her lifetime she worked with many of the people that nobody else wanted to help – poor, sick, outsiders, and people living where someone would think that no one would live - in remote and isolated places - she went there. Elise showed both warmth and firmness to people. She always confronted poor behaviour, at the same time gaining immense respect from everyone she encountered. She often took on people who no one else would touch.

I have an absolute appreciation of what she contributed toward all those people that she worked with, and towards the profession of nursing and midwifery. She engendered an immense spirit of cooperation, and this was rewarded her by her receiving the King of Norway’s Honorary Medal. We can learn from Elise’s life’s work, to exhibit tolerance, grace and understanding of otherness.

It is important to give back to all of us the true story about the courage and endurance of Elise Myreng, my great-grandmother. Her story in itself is an extraordinary accomplishment, but it has a very serious purpose. Of course her story entertain and inspire us, but more importantly, her story contributes to changing the understanding that determines how societies define the roles of women. The only way to open up the full scope of opportunities for women, is to reprogram the way people see gender roles. If we tell the stories of women to defy the stereotypes, we contribute to changing the social landscape of how the world works. Elise’s story is a great contribution to our understanding of women and a corrective to the standard histories. Celebrating this heroine reminds us that women do amazing things, and it will be a loss to our whole country if we forget them. Elise was neither a mythological character nor a super-heroine from a comic book; she was a human being, an imperfect person with strengths and weaknesses - she was a quiet heroin.

My great-grandmother was a pioneer of sorts – almost a hundred years ago, she tore free from stigmas, gender and race issues, to follow her own heart.  I leave it up to anyone who reads this blogpost to ponder their own backgrounds, what it means to them, and decide where they best belong. Elise's story is an inspiring tale of bravery and determination, illustrating the classic theme of the triumph of the human spirit in the face of adversity. May the story of my great-grandmother and the courageous path she chose inspire you, as it has me.

Now, back to today's special day - and I know that everyone back home is celebrating nation-wide. Even here in Australia we celebrated, and I felt connected and proud to put on my new Sea-Sámi 'kofta'. Here we are, Elliot and I, in the early morning hours:

Lihkku Beaivvin! Gratulerer med dagen!