Kat Milligan-McClellan/Napaaqtuk
microbiologist, University of Connecticut
@napaaqtuk
she/her
Her research is shaped by her responsibility to her Indigenous community and a wish to open science to more native groups..
Wrong Path
In high school, Kat envisioned a path that would help outsiders learn more about her culture.Tourists came often to her home town, Kotzebue, so Kat set her sights on running the hotel there, killing two birds with one stone: it would be a source of income for her and the community, and it would allow them to share their culture with people from other places. So she set off to a far-away school, Cornell, and its hotel administration program.
“I quickly learned that was not for me.” She didn’t enjoy the classes, and her grade point average suffered. Kat went home and started over. She worked to raise money and her GPA, attending community college, before another new start, at the University of Wisconsin-Madison.“I thought, ‘Okay, I don’t want to go into tourism.’ The other big thing that people do in Kotzebue if they have a higher education is, they’re lawyers. I didn’t want to do that. Or they’re doctors, so I thought, ‘I’ll be a doctor.’”
Wrong Path
DOCTOR WON'T DO
Try This!
Forced assimilation
A Long Way from Home
Earthquakes!
Giving Up
Doctor Won't Do
“I was raised not to think, ‘What is going to be best for me,’ but ‘What is going to be best for me
because I’m going to be giving to my community. As an Iñupiat, I could contribute to the health
of the people back home by being a doctor. The reason that was important was because when I
was growing up all the doctors were from outside. There were no Iñupiaq doctors working in my
home town. There were health aides, and there were even Native healers. We have traditional
healers that were Iñupiaq, who were studying ways of healing that had been passed down for
10,000 years in our region, but there weren’t Native doctors with that western M.D. medical
degree after them. I thought I could contribute by being someone who was not just a medical
doctor, but who would understand the community from within the community, who would be able
to understand how the health of a person is affected by the fact that they are part of this
community that has been in Alaska for 10,000 years.”
While going to school, Kat held jobs at nursing homes. “I was working with nurses, nursing
assistants, and doctors. I would see the doctors and the interactions they had with people.
Because of the way the western U.S. health care system works, the doctors were only spending
a very short amount of time with their patients.” To Kat, that meant they were not contributing to
the overall health of those people. “They were treating individual symptoms of diseases, but
they weren’t treating the person as a whole or the community as a whole.” Kat took a step back.
“They weren’t really helping the community as a whole.” Meanwhile, she began working in a
microbiology research lab. “What I learned there was that I could contribute to the overall
knowledge of microbes that cause diseases. Thus I wouldn’t be helping just one or two people
who were immediately around me, but I would be helping the entire community of people by
potentially figuring out how these microbes were causing disease, and how we could prevent
those microbes from causing disease.
A Long Way from Home
What was it like moving from a tiny North Slope town (population 3,000) to Madison, Wisconsin
(population nearly 300,000)? Kat says, “The biggest adjustment wasn’t moving from rural
Alaska to the lower 48 [states], because I could see what the lower 48 was like from TV shows
and movies.” No, the hardest thing was who wasn’t there: her community. “To get over that, or
not to get over it, but to help with that, I started working with Native tribes, and local Native
students on campus. I became a part of Native American groups including Wunk Sheek and
AISES. Both were important for connecting me with Native students. Even though they came
from other tribes, they still had some things that they shared with me. Many of them had grown
up on reservations, which were similar to my hometown, in that they were mostly Native.
Try This!
• Wunk Sheek is an organization serving Indigenous students and members of the University of
Wisconsin-Madison community who are interested in Indigenous issues.
• Advancing Indigenous People in STEM (AISES) aims to support students from high school to graduate
school as they pursue STEM careers. Their offerings include financial education courses for elementary
through high school students,internship opportunities, and job postings.
• Alaska Native Science and Engineering Program (ANSEP)
FORCED ASSIMILATION
Among the reasons Kat sought out Indigenous groups was to have a setting in
which she could process forced assimilation. Here’s how she defines that: “Forced assimilation
comes in many ways. For me it wasn’t the way we think of it typically — being forced to go to
boarding school, have horrible things [done to you] when you speak your own language… It was
the more mundane forced assimilation, which is teachers reinforcing to you that the knowledge
that has been passed down for 10,000 years is not worthy of being used in medical facilities
because it wasn’t western science, or being told that speaking Iñupiaq is ‘backwards’ and you
really should focus on being fluent in English to succeed, or being told that the dances you do
are fun cultural things but that you shouldn’t dedicate a lot of time to learning it, because it’s not
as valuable as doing homework or getting a 9 to 5 job.”
When she advanced to postdoctoral research, Kat sought out mentors who not only studied
aspects of microbiology that would add most to her learning, but were as passionate about their
teaching their students as they were about their science. Karen Guilleman and Bill Cresko, at
the University of Oregon, held the keys to helping her shape her research, and to mentoring
itself — both of which would support her as she moved through the next few years, developing
her own teaching and lab work.
Earthquakes!
Alaska’s loss is Connecticut’s gain. To blame was a massive earthquake that shook Anchorage,
where Kat settled to begin her research at the University of Alaska - Anchorage. Kat loved it
there at first, especially the fact that 10 percent of the study body were Alaska Native, and that
she sometimes had students in her classes who were from her hometown of Kotzebue. But
then… “Anchorage experienced a 7.2 (on the Richter scale) earthquake in November of 2018.
What that means is that our entire house shook for several minutes, and it wasn’t just a little
wobble back and forth.” She flings her body back and forth while adding, “It was a violent
shaking for several minutes. It’s scary because you don’t know if you’re going to get hurt by
something that’s falling, or if the people you love are okay. It was the second largest earthquake
that Anchorage has had in the last 50 years, and the one prior to that was the largest
earthquake in the United States (9.6, the 1964 Good Friday earthquake).”
And the aftershocks weren’t a whole lot better — in the fives and sixes. “So these five-point-
something earthquakes happened randomly throughout the year. Or four. Or three. Then
another five.”
Kat had given a talk at the University of Connecticut a few years earlier. They had invited her to apply to
their department, but she’d opted to stay in Anchorage. “But then all
these things happened, and I said, ‘Okay, I think I need to move.’” One of the plusses was the
opportunity to work with Connecticut’s Native community and student population.
EXTRA!
Here’s Kat starring in the video event Skype a Scientist.