Manual No Ordinary Boy: The summer a schoolkid grew up

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I found he was no ordinary elementary-school kid. He not only was winning Over the next few years, I watched this young man grow up. His private school.
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Atka has no sports teams or shopping malls or movie theaters or recreation centers, or restaurants or skate parks or concert halls or arcades. There's no cell phone reception in this part of the world. Internet is limited. The island is so far from the mainland, it has its own time zone. Most people are related, in one way or another. Everyone knows everyone. Atka Island is wide and wild and ripe for exploration, but when teenage boredom strikes out of nowhere, there's nowhere else to go.

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Summer is Mario's favorite season: He spends time hunting and fishing and takes part in an Unungax culture camp where students learn the Unangam Tunuu language and traditional skills, like how to properly butcher the reindeer that roam the island. During the school year, the days are filled with classes, chores and homework. He shares a classroom with six other students in grades , including his younger brother, Timothy.

Mario's desk sits at the back of the room, near the window that looks out at the low hill behind the school. He talks about traveling away to join the U. The schoolhouse is just down the road from the town's gravel runway, where scheduled flights touch down three times per week—if the weather's right. When the weather turns bad, everyone waits. Only one air carrier comes out this far, and delays are a part of life. The island once went more than three weeks without seeing a plane, residents say. Mario, like many of his classmates, has never been outside Alaska.

When the school bell rings, he throws on his jacket and heads back up the muddy gravel road toward home, another step closer to graduation. Eddie Wood came to Atka on a Monday flight, hauling bulky cases of instruments in the back of the nine-seat twin-turboprop plane. An artist from Homer who travels and teaches around the state, Wood flew out to the Aleutians to host a special performance workshop for Atka's youngest residents. The room fell quiet.


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Wood picked up the mbira and began to play. The littlest girls wiggled with excitement. The oldest boys watched curiously. Maria Maly, 11, sat cross-legged on the carpet, transfixed. By Wednesday, they were practicing spontaneous solos. Maria played the vibraslap, learning to grip the metal neck and smack the wooden ball into the palm of her hand, weaving those sounds around Wood's steady "one-two-three-four" count.

By Thursday, the students were ready for the show. They performed under fluorescent lights in the Netsvetov School library after the last bell that afternoon, Maria standing between her younger brother and older classmate. The audience was small—no more than a dozen parents, neighbors, aunts and uncles—but the students' excitement was real. Occasions like this don't come around often. At the school, days follow a familiar rhythm. The upper-grade boys arrive early to use the building's Wi-Fi signal to play Clash of Clans and surf the internet.

They gather on the front porch in the dark, faces illuminated by glowing smartphone screens, sipping home-brewed coffee from to-go mugs until one of the teachers unlocks the front door sometime around 8 a. The girls usually arrive a little later. Fifth-grade Maria, the youngest student in the upper-grade class, sits next to her cousin, seventh-grade Trinity.

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The mornings begin with language arts: They write in their journals and listen to the teacher read aloud from a classic book. At lunch, the school is emptied and locked. After classes, Maria and Trinity might go exploring along the river, up by the waterfall and the water tank, before coming home to a chili dog dinner at an auntie's home. Maria enjoys visiting relatives in Anchorage: The big city is full of excitement, like urban moose, movie theaters, a water park and gas stations where you can buy tall cans of iced tea.

Still, Atka is home. Maria loves eating the fish from the sea and walking on the gray sand beaches that ring the island. Maria's seen a lot of people come to town on the little plane from Dutch Harbor. Most of them are neighbors or relatives. Ebullient performance artists bearing boxes of exotic-sounding percussion instruments don't come through often. Or, really, ever.


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The students' Thursday show was a hit. They performed in unison, then one by one, stepping away from the group to improvise solos of their own, something they'd never done.

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When her turn came, Maria knocked the vibraslap against her palm—slow, then fast, a spin in the air, another quick rattle. Her solo ended and the beat resumed and she smiled as she played. At the end of the show, the few people in the audience broke into applause and all 11 students lay their instruments at their feet and took a bow.

The music teacher boarded a flight off the island the next afternoon, but he left a few of the instruments behind. He hoped the students would keep playing; he didn't know if they would. This is the day they say goodbye to the only sixth-grade student in school. In a few days, his family will climb into the plane and head back to Unalaska, the Aleutian hub community some miles to the east.

People leave Atka for all kinds of reasons: They go away for medical appointments and family visits, when they lose jobs and when they find jobs.

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Teachers leave; classmates leave; entire families pack their bags and go. In , 92 people lived in Atka, according to U. Census data. By , there were Burnt clothes matching those of the attackers were later found in a churchyard.

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When the remains were examined, officers found part of a purple plastic drawstring bag which was the same as what Majdouline was seen carrying. They came to east London in search of a 'new start' after Jaden was caught in the street with a pistol and a Rambo knife and handed a caution when he was Relatives believed the young Arsenal fan would benefit from moving closer to his grandma, who lived in the Leyton area.

But within six months he became the youngest casualty of a bloody war between two rival gangs laying claim to Waltham turf. According to Oliver Glasgow, prosecuting, Jaden was 'no ordinary year-old'. His Instagram and Facebook accounts were littered with selfies captioned 'driller' and 'trapper kid' - urban slang for a young drug mule. Despite harbouring dreams of becoming an entrepreneur and making the top sets at Heathcote School in Chingford he was excluded just weeks before his death for the troubling social media posts.

The talented youngster started his own clothing line at 13 and a keen interest in boxing saw him meet heavyweight champion Anthony Joshua. But he was also mired in a shadowy underworld of County Lines drug-dealing.

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Police discovered Jaden at a Bournemouth address with a wad of cash and wraps of crack cocaine in October last year. The court heard the teenager had downplayed the trouble he was in up until his dying moment. Three hours before tragedy struck he joked to a friend that he was 'in beef again' after a Beaumont 'older' paid him an ominous visit. A jury deliberated for nine hours and 22 minutes for find Majdouline guilty of Jaden's murder and possession of a knife. The court heard efforts are continuing to identify the other attackers by their DNA. Jaden was the youngest victim of a spate of gang violence linked to drug dealing in east London and across county lines.

Olcay Sapanoglu, from the Crown Prosecution Service, said: 'This was a ferocious attack on a year-old schoolboy who was singled out as a target. It is truly harrowing.


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Our thoughts are with them at this difficult time.