Gákti always and for everyone
The majority of the inhabitants in Nesseby minicipality are Sámi, which is shown in both language and clothing.
Almost everyone wears gákti and speaks Sámi language daily.
Nils Roska (born 1921) tells: «My first 16 years I lived in the gákti. While I went to school, I wore gákti every
day. On weekdays a cheaper gákti. On Sundays a diffferent, more expensive gákti. All the stores sold wool cloth.
Thicker wool cloth was used as outer gákti. Belts and shoebands people wove themselves. There were differences
between everyday- and Sunday-belt and shoebands, which were more decorated with elaborate patterns».
The Sámi culture was so dominant that people who moved to the municipality also were incorporated into it.
This story is quite illustrative. Fredrik Bekkala depicts his childhood in Karlebotn in the 1920s:
«I was born in Karlebotn in 1910. My homelanguage was Finnish, but the rest of the village was Sámi speaking.
Therefore I soon learned Sámi, but Norwegian was for a long time a foreign language. In school most children
used gákti. In fact, I was for a period the only one not wearing this kind of clothing. I think the others
considered me a stranger since I didn’t wear gákti. But then my mother asked a woman to sew med a gákti,
and then I was like the others» .
Fredrik Bekkala in Karlebotn.
For Bekkala the gákti was a culturally awailable symbol which made him blend in with the mass. He also learned the
Sámi language to communicate. But he doesn’t give the impression that he changed his identity from Finnish to Sámi.
The gákti was the dominant garment which everbody in the village wore. Thus it was not an expression of ethnic
identity, but of a majority culture. To dress up in the gákti was for Bekkala to slide into this majority culture.
Many Finnish speaking families inform in the censuses that they made a shift to Sámi, also as their homelanguage.
This was an adjustment to living in a Sámi dominated community.
Anna Trane (born 1924), who grew up in a Sámi family, tells: «We wore gákti, to school also, we didn’t have coats
or the like, only gákti and Sámi shoes. We bought the wool fabric in the store. Everyone didn’t wear the same fabric,
in the summer time they had gákti made from lighter fabric». Even the Norwegian officials, such as priests, merchants,
county governors and other authorities dressed up in Sámi garments . This might have added status to Sámi clothing.
1 Intervju 7.3.2019.
2 Fredrik Bekkala. «Nå kunne også vi i Karlebotn rette ryggen». Varanger årbok 1987, s. 102.
3 Anton Hoëm. Fra noaidiens verden til forskerens. Misjon, kunnskap og modernisering i sameland 1715-2007. Institutt for sammenlignende kulturforsking. Novus forlag 2007, s. 414.
4 Jorunn Jernsletten. Tradisjonelle produkter av sau i Unjárga/Nesseby. Varanger samiske museums skrifter Čállosat nr. 8, 2014 s. 65
5 Øystein Nilsen og Thorbjørn Bjørkli. «Samisk koftebruk i Unjárga/Nesseby på 1900-tallet». Varanger årbok 1998.
F.l: Grethe Maja holding the horse «Prino», Ellen Anna Henriksen, Else Johansen sitting in the wagon.
Norwegian everyday clothes and Sámi fine clothes
In the 1930s there was a gradual transition to Norwegian clothing. There was a difference between the generations. The elderly
generation continued to use gákti both weekdays and Sundays, while the younger generations started wearing Norwegian clothes on
the weekdays. Some continued using gákti on Sundays.
Jon Ole Nilsen (1914-1998) was a profiled person in Nesseby, as the editor of the Sámi Christian journal Nuorttanaste. He writes
in his diary 3.11.1936:
«The clothing is starting to change compared to the previous century. Back then they used thick woollen gákti and trousers in
different colours, now it is only black wool gákti decorated with red and yellow on Sundays. A couple of years ago the young
people wore gákti on Sundays, but now it has suddenly disappeared. Now the young people wear mostly denim jackets and sweaters
on Sundays. Myself I have not been wearing gákti more than twice this year. Both younger and elderly people have started using
Norwegian clothes instead of Sámi clothing» .
Tude Iversen (born 1930) tells: «My eldest brothers wore gákti as working outfits. When I was little, I wore gákti. I didn’t
consider it a working outfit exactly. You had the holbi hanging there, and it was always filled with ice. Especially as a
child when you were playing in the snow» . Holbi is the lower edge of the gákti.
1 Jane Juuso, Marie Birgitte Utse, Liv Nilsen og Magnhild Mathisen. Unjárgga gákti. Varangerbotn: Isak Saba guovvdáš 2005, s. 12.
2 Jernsletten 2014, Tradisjonelle produkter av sau i Unjárga/Nesseby s. 65.
Wartime, burning and forced evacuation
As in other circumstances it is obvious that the second world war is a clear mark of changing times. Those who are over 80 years
old have grown up with wearing the dork (jacket of sheepskin with the wool inwards), fiehtarbuvssat (homemade thick woollen trousers)
and gákti as everyday garments. After the war the clothes were sewn using Norwegian patterns.
During the wartime there became a shortage of English wool cloth, which was considered the nicest fabric for gákti. Before the war
this was sold in the stores by the many small merchants along the coast. There was a lack of other types of fabric as well, and it
was common to reuse old gáktis, for instance to sew trousers for the children. Ingrid Iversen (born 1941): «I grew up during the war,
and people couldn’t afford to have gákti, because the wool cloth was expensive and difficult to get hold of. My parents had Sunday
gáktis. Myself I was 16 years old before my mother provided me with a gákti.»
The family Kolpus outside their turfhut in Bunes around 1945. Nils Andreas and his wife Ellen Bigga, each with their child on the arm. Neighbour Signe Nilsen is visiting. We can the the photographer John Ole Nilsens shadow.
In October 1944 the German forces commanded a forced evacuation of locals. The first message was that the Sámi people were not
considered able-bodied, and thus should not be evacuated. The sign that somebody was a Sámi was that they wore gákti. Therefore
several persons borrowed gáktis to avoid evacuation . This message was later changed, but then the Germans had already left the
Varanger area, crossed the bridge over the Tana river and detonated the bridge. East of the Tana river the Germans were in a hurry,
because they knew the Russians came after them. All the German forces on the Varanger peninsula had to pass through Varangerbotn
to get westwards, and they were afraid to be cut of. But when they had crossed the Tana river and blown up the bridge, they felt
safe and the forced evacuation became more thorough.
This might be an explanation why only 1/3 of the inhabitants in Nesseby municipality were deported. Most people, approximately
800 persons, had left the villages in advance to live in their turf huts and other temporary housing in the forrests and mountains.
This meant that as soon as they heard the noice of the Tana river bridge being blasted on November 6th 1944, they felt sure that
the war was over for their part. They returned to the villages and started cleaning up after the German ravages. The German order
was to burn all buildings, but because of the haste some buildings were left. Little of material value was saved and it was a
miserable condition. But the selfsubsistance based on a combination of fishery, live stock, reindeerherding, hunting, trapping
and harvesting in the forest and mountains was crucial for the fact that people managed quite well.
1 Jernsletten 2014, Tradisjonelle produkter av sau i Unjárga/Nesseby s. 19.
2 Intervju 27.3.2019.
3 Mari-Ann Nilsen. «Helga Maardalen ved Nesseby tuberkulosehjem talte tyskerne midt imot». Varanger årbok 2020, s. 433.
Fine gáktis and everyday Sámi language
The last census where ethnicity and language were recorded was in 1950. It showed a clear Sámi majority population in
Nesseby municipality.
In photographs from Nesseby school i 1947/48 we see that none of the children wear gákti, and it is obvious from photographs
in this timeperiod that gákti was no longer the most common everyday garment. In pictures from celebratory occations, when
people have dressed up in their finest clothing, we still see some persons wearing gákti. On the picture from a recess in
the school yard in 1948, we can see that nobody is wearing gákti, but they all have homemade Sámi shoes. The fact that people
had the skills to make their own footwear from local skin of seal, cow, sheep or reindeer, was one of the reasons people
had managed so well during the war and after. Compared to the pictures from before the war, when many used gákti for both
weekdays and Sundays, there is a clear change. But what was the reason?
It is easy to assume that it was caused by the stringent Norwegian assimilation policy, which proclaimed that people
shouldn’t be able to by estates if they didn’t have Norwegian as a daily language, and the education was to take place in
Norwegian only, even though the children only knew the Sámi language when they started school. But the elderly I have
interviewed tell that most families still maintained Sámi as their daily language in the homes, which is affirmed by the
1950 census. The teacher from the Norwegian south-west, who took these pictures, tells that he had to use one of the pupils
as an interpretor, even though it was forbidden. The girl had been deported during the burning in the fall of 1944, and had
therefore learnt Norwegian before she returned to Nesseby .
Nesseby school break time 1948. F.l.: Maggi Teigen, Tormod Noste, Birgit Marie Nilsen, Klara Mosesen, Bergitte Hjelper, Inga Stina, Anna Siri, Ukjent, Ruth Teigen, Martha Dikkanen, Randi Utse, unknown. With spark: Laila Noste. Teachers: Hjørdis Nilssen and Dreng Skomedal. Photo: Halgrim Ulsaker (teacher in Nesseby 1947-49).
Liv Nilsen (born 1949): «I had gákti when I was little. It was old grandmothers and Sámi girls who wore them. I have
never seen my great grandmother in other clothing than gákti. I was 10 years old when she died in 1959». Bertil Berg
(born 1957): «I didn’t grow up with the gákti myself. It was old people who used gákti every day, others only in church».
Marie Roska (born 1939): «I was confirmant in 1954. Gákti wasn’t so popular back then. We wanted coats in stead. Only old
people wore gákti». Some people, like Henda Mathisen, continued using gákti as a work outfit also after the war.
The impression is that after the war most people in Nesseby had stopped wearing gákti on an everyday basis because they
had other weekday garments. On Sundays and celebrations one could wear gákti, but we see from the pictures that not everybody
had gáktis in those days. The explanation I got was that it was hard to get hold of good enough quality fabric after the war.
They preferred English wool cloth, which was in shortage. If you couldn’t sew a good quality gákti, then you just let it be.
Therefore it was only those who still had nice enough gáktis for Sunday use, who wore them.
The lack of people with gákti on the postwar pictures cannot thus be interpreted straightforward as a direct result of the
Norwegian assimilation policy, as it is easy to assume. The pressure to learn Norwegian didn’t necessarily mean that people
stopped wearing gákti in Nesseby. But many stories convey negative experiences from beeing looked down on if wearing gákti
in Norwegian coastal communities.
1 Folketellingen 1950: https://www.ssb.no/a/histstat/nos/nos_xi_236.pdf
2 Halgrim Ulsaker. «Med hurtigruta til Finnmark». Varanger årbok 1999, s. 184.
3 Jernsletten 2014. Tradisjonelle produkter av sau i Unjárga/Nesseby, s. 65
4 Jernsletten 2014. Tradisjonelle produkter av sau i Unjárga/Nesseby, s. 66.
5 Intervju 7.3.2019.
The Norwegianization policy towards the Sámi people 1851-1959
The Norwegianization was a public assimilation policy led by the Norwegian state in the period from 1851 to 1959, but
with consequences that are still experienced today. In 1851 the monetary fund “Finnefondet” was established by Stortinget,
the Norwegian parliament. It was used among others to support vages for teachers who were exceptionally effective in the
Norwegianization service. The Norwegianization policy was not officially abandoned until the Sámi commitee gave its
resolution in 1959, which was amended by the Storting in 1963 .
The Norwegianization policy was built on two ideological foundations. One was the Social Darwinist idea that the Sámi
were a primitive, inferior people, without the ability to lift themselves up to a superior, civilized level. Thus, they
needed help to raise themselves out of their ignorance, and this should be done by making them acquire Norwegian language
and culture. The other ideological background was the construction of Norway as an independent state, for which a
prerequisite was that it was a nation consisting solely of Norwegians. This was especially important in respect to the
ending of the Union with Sweden in 1905. There were law enforcements, like the Property Act of 1902, which proclaimed
that all who wanted to acquire estates should have Norwegian as a daily language.
F.l: Per M. Klemetsen and Per Fokstad, 1971. The visionary Sámi teacher Per Fokstad from Tana suggested already in 1947 that Sámi speaking children should get their first years in school in their native language, and then gradually learn Norwegian. He was also a member of the Sámi commitee, which in 1959 suggested a strengthening of Sámi language in school.
In school it was especially the use of the Wexelsen bill, which made it difficult for the Sámi speaking children.
Churchminister Wexelsen made instructions in 1898, with an enhanced focus on the importance that the education in school
should be given only in Norwegian. It stated that the Sámi or Finnish languages should be used only as a means to explane
that which is otherwise incomprehensible for the children. Norwegian words should not be translated, but instead the method
of visualizing should be used. This meant pointing, miming, drawing or in other ways showing the children what a word meant.
This was often confusing for the children, and the language acquisition became slow compared to earlier teaching when Sámi
language was used to explane Norwegian words.
The Wexelsen bill §4, which instructed the teachers to overlook that Sámi children didn’t use Sámi language more than what was
unquestionably necessary, was in many school districts used to stop the children from speaking Sámi also in their spare time.
Some school boards continued to instruct teachers in Sámi districts to make sure the children didn’t speak Sámi in breaks and
in the boarding houses up until the Wexelsen bill was formally abolished by the Norwegian parliament in 1963 .
Even after the bill was abolished, there was a negative attitude that Sámi language should not be used in the education,
not even as an aid. It takes a long time to change attitudes that are well established. After 60 years without using any
Sámi in the schooling system most people were illiterates in Sámi language, including those growing up in Sámi speaking
homes. There was little to build on in the attempt to turn around this attitude. For two generations almost the only available
written sources in Sámi were the Bible, the hymn book and the Christian journal Nuorttanaste. Thus there was a great lack of
teaching resources who could express themselves in Sámi.
1 Regnor Jernsletten. «Samisk organisasjonsarbeid». Samisk kunst- og kulturhistorie . Red. Frode Tveterås, Trude Arntsen og Regnor Jernsletten. Tromsø: Vett & Viten 2002.
2 Lov om Afhændelse af Statens Jord og Grund i Finnmarkens Amts Landdistrict av 22. mai 1902 nr. 7 – Jordsalgsloven av 1902. § 1 bokstav c: «Afhændelse maa kun ske til norske Statsborgere og under særlig Hensyn til at fremme Bosættelsen af en for Distriktet, dets Opdyrkning og øvrige Nyttiggjørelse skikket Befolkning, som kan tale, læse og skrive det norske Sprog og benytter det til daglig Brug.»
3 Regnor Jernsletten. Samebevegelsen i Norge. Idé og strategi 1900 – 1940. Hovedfagsoppgave historie. Universitetet i Tromsø 1986, s. 88.
4 Henry Minde. «Fornorskinga av samene – hvorfor, hvordan og hvilke følger?» Sámi skuvlahistorjá. Samisk skolehistorie nr. 1. Davvi Girji, 2005.
Personal experiences with the Norwegian education
It is very individual how people in Nesseby have experienced the Norwegianization, and how different families have handled it. Some tried to switch to Norwegian in their homes, to help the children get an easier access to the society at large. Others considered the education in Norwegian to be the schools’ responsibility, and thus the family could continue speaking Sámi in their home.
Nils Einar Mathisen, 6.2.2020. Photo: Bjarne Riesto
Nils Einar Mathisen (born 1937): «You see that our children speak Norwegian. It was because we didn’t know Norwegian when
we started school. And we wanted to make it easier for the kids and spoke Norwegian with them. That’s how it was in the
Norwegianization age. I have regretted it later... that we made a mistake towards our kids».
Ingrid Iversen (born 1941): «There might have been some superiority in it to. Some people used to say: What is the point
with that Sámi language! That was the politics after the war. That those who got married and had childrern tried to speak
Norwegian. A teacher asked us: Why don’t you speak only Sámi a home? It is the school which is supposed to teach the children
Norwegian. But many parents had unpleasant experiences, and didn’t want the children to be bothered like themselves for not
speaking Norwegian when they started school».
Kjell Trane (born 1947): «I remember that they didn’t speak proper Norwegian nor Sámi. We learned only Sámi at home and
Norwegian in school. Then the parents didn’t need to hussle with speaking Norwegian to us, because we learnt it in school.
Then we could express ourselves when we started working. There was an expression: What are you going to do with the Sámi
language, you won’t get far with that!»
5 Intervju 13.3.2019.
6 Intervju 27.3.2019.
7 Intervju 12.3.2019.
Boarding school
For most children schooling meant that they periodically had to live away from their families. Ingrid Iversen (born 1941):
«I was 7 years old when I started school. There was no bus or boarding house. The first years we had to live with relatives.
In 1952 we moved into the new boarding school. I didn’t find it sad, other than the times when the kids were quarreling.
There was a lack of food in many homes, and they were better off living in the boarding school. Most homes had many children,
and people were poor. Those who lived far away got home only for Christmas and Easter» . She cannot remember that they were
refused to speak Sámi in the boarding house. None of the pupils wore gákti, because in those days only old people used them on
weekdays.
When the 9 grade school was established, the time of study was extended. This meant that young people from Nesseby went to
the neighbouring municipality Tana until 1966. From the schoolyear 1959/60 only higher grade pupils were living in boarding
schools, while the number of local schools and transportation made it possible for all pupils in the lower grades to live at home .
The effect of the language instruction, which limited the possibility to use Sámi in education, was enhanced when the
teaching for youth level was extended after the war. This involved a large scale development of boarding schools, where
young people were put together across municipality borders to fill up classes. There had been boarding schools before the
war also, and because of the meager transportation it was usual that children from the first grade had to live away from
their parents for longer time periods. The children could be accomodated in boarding schools or private homes for a total
of 8 weeks before Christmas and 8 weeks in the spring.
In the 1950s the school became an even more efficient tool for Norwegianization than ever before. As the amount of time in
school was extended and Sámi pupils got more education in Norwegian schools by Norwegian teachers and with Norwegian books.
There was a lack of teachers after the war, and many small schools got people from the south of Norway, with no education in
teaching . Many of these teachers had a derogatory attitude towards the Sámi pupils. It was also common that pupils from
other municipalities along the Finnmark coast, who attended the vocational school in Karlebotn, took the advantage of being
Norwegian and spoke negatively about the Sámi – even though they were a minority in a community where the majority were Sámi.
For local pupils from the municipality this was a sore experience. That others could come to Nesseby and tell them that they
had no value .
Karlebotn boarding school.
It is a paradox that when the authorities officially ended the Norwegianization paradigm, then there seems to be a boost
in the Norwegianization in Nesseby. The 1960s generation is the first to know Norwegian when they started school. Why?
Many parents talk about their own unpleasant experiences with not understanding the teachers. When they became parents,
they wanted to spare their children from the discomfort of not understanding anything from the education the first years
of school.
Another aspect is the fact that the population grew emensly after the war. The census in 1950 is the highest ever in Nesseby,
with over 1500 persons . It was obvious that many would have to move from their home villages to get work, and then Norwegian
was a prerequisite. The parents had little use of their own education and experienced a barrier towards the Norwegian society.
They wanted to give their children a better starting point.
1 Signe Iversen. «Tyskálaččat eai máhte sámegiela goittot». Varangerbotn: Isak Saba guovddáš 2005.
2 Siri Dikkanen. Karlebotn skole og internat 1952-2002. Glimt fra Nesseby kommunes skolehistorie fra 1700 til idag. Nesseby kommune 2002.
3 Eivind Bråstad Jensen. Fra fornorskningspolitikk mot kulturelt mangfold. Nordkalott-Forlaget 1991, s. 73.
4 Randi Irene Losoa. «The Beatles». Varanger årbok 1999, s. 120.
5 Folketellingen 1950: https://www.ssb.no/a/histstat/nos/nos_xi_236.pdf
Celebration of the Norwegian National Day in Nesseby, 1960s. Torill Lindseth, Inger Trane, Marianne Lindseth, Ruth Trane, Marie Blix, Rigmor Andersen, Lillian Nilsen, Bård Schønberg. Photo: Sidsel Schønberg.
Sámi selfconsciousness awakens
The Norwegian state’s policy in the 1960s was equality. By that they meant that the Sámi should be equipped to take part in
the Norwegian society at the same rate as Norwegians, both conserning language and economy. The Sámi could themselves decide
whether they wanted to continue their language and culture. It should no longer be counteracted, but neither encouraged.
Social scientist Vigdis Stordahl describes how many parents in the 1960s saw the aquisitions of Norwegian cultural competense
as a prerequisite for their children to succeed in life. Without Norwegian they would be loosers, like themselves. It was exactly
this experience of being a looser that the new Sámi political movement campaigned against, through showing that the Sámi past
was a treasure for the Sámi people. This past was not only stigmatized as something inferior, it was also something that many
Sámi felt they had lost. Through participation in the Sámi movement they got the opportunity to accept and overcome this
feeling of loss. They could redescover their history and culture, and thus get a new selfunderstanding and affirmation of their
Sámi identity.
It became more common to see younger people in gákti again, not only the elderly and children. Marie Roska (born 1939):
«I was a grown-up woman and married the first time I wore gákti. It was in the late 1960s. My mother in law helped me sew
the gákti. A neighbour wife weaved the holbi-edge. I don’t remember why I wanted a gákti. I think it is like with fashion.
When one person starts something, everybody else follows».
1 Bjørn Aarseth. Norsk samepolitikk 1945-1990. Norsk folkemuseums samiske samlinger. Forlaget Vett & Viten, Oslo 2006.
2 Vigdis Stordahl 1996. Same i den moderne verden,
Karasjok: Davvi girji,
s. 153.
3 Intervju 7.3.2019.
The Sámi vitalization blossoms
In the 1970s the Sámi selfconsciousness was wide awake, and the vitalization process could begin. It was permitted
again to have Sámi education in school, where it had been banned since the end of the 19th century. But it would take
20 years before the school managed to offer Sámi language education for all pupils in Nesseby.
In the 1970s there are occationally gáktis on the pictures of confirmants. In 1970 there was one boy wearing gákti.
In 1973 two confirmants wore gákti . For a period of time after the war the confirmants had preferred Norwegian dresses
and suits. Irma Trane (born 1941): «We had gákti both for the Norwegian National Day and when we went to church for the
confirmation ceremony. It had to be the type of fine wool cloth gákti. But those who were confirmed did not wear gákti.
The boys had bought suits and the girls had homemade dresses. But the rest of the family wore gákti, if they had». The
last comment is an important point, because with many children there were not always enough nice wool cloth gáktis for
everybody to wear.
Sámi handicrafts exhibition in Karlebotn 15.12.1975. Photo: John Ole Nilsen.
In the 1970s there were differences running between the families, whether they used gákti to dress up or not. What is striking,
is that this does not follow which families continue speaking Sámi in the homes or not. Many families changed to Norwegian language
in their homes. But at the same time more people started wearing gákti again, for instance on celebrations like the Norwegian National
Day. One of those who grew up in Nesseby in the 1970s tells that it was nice to dress up in gákti for the school parade. In her
famility it was custom to take a trip to the closest town, Vadsø, afterwards. They then made sure first to go home and change to
Norwegian clothes. Many people had unpleasant experiences and got negative comments if they wore gákti in the town. This is one of
the destructive effects of the Norwegianization: Everybody were allowed to look down on and harass Sámi persons.
Siri Dikkanen, former head of school in Nesseby, writes that the school had a long and difficult road ahead to make room for Sámi
language and culture. The most harsh and repressive period might have ended after the war. But mostly the school pretended that Sámi
language and culture did not exist. Then came the change in attitude which meant that it became legal to offer teaching in Sámi.
Among the parents who had children that were starting school in the fall 1970, there were several that wanted Sámi as teaching language
for their children. But back then the municipality only had one teacher who was able to teach in Sámi, and it did not get started. Sámi
beginner education was offered for the first time in 1977 at Stuorravuonna skuvla/Karlebotn school .
Between 1904 and 1953 there was no systematic education in Sámi for teachers in Norway. After a while there were some sporadic
educational offers, but there were few resources to build on .
1 Juuso m.fl. 2005. Unjárgga gákti, s. 16.
2 Intervju 28.3.2019.
3 Dikkanen 2002. Karlebotn skole og internat 1952-2002.
4 NOU 2000:3 Samisk lærerutdanning - mellom ulike kunnskapstradisjoner
,
s. 16.
The 14th National meeting of the Norwegian Sámi Association, June 1982 in the gym at Nesseby school. Ole Henrik Magga is holding a speech. He was elected the first President of the Sámi Parliament in 1989. Photo: John Ole Nilsen.
Symbolic garment for the Sámi political movement
The 1970s was a decade of considerable political activity. For many it was important to wear gákti in such contexts. That
is visible on the pictures form national meetings in the Sámi organizations. In such national political meetings it was
important to show which region you represented, and gákti was an natural symbolic signal. For many the social aspect of
meeting at an arena where Sámi issues were natural was just as important as the political discussions. Sámi parties and
meetings that streched over several days (and nights), was a counterweight to the stigmatization Sámi people experienced
on Norwegian dominatet arenas. As such, the Sámi political activity acted as «islands», where you knew that nobody would
ridicule or make comments on your Sámi heritage and appearance. Unjárgga Sámiid searvi/Nesseby sameforening (Nesseby Sámi
association) was founded in 1972.
Nils Einar Mathisen (born 1937): «Well, then came the Sámi association and everybody wanted gákti. The Sámi Association
was popular here, not only here but in Tana, Kautokeino and Karasjok there were popular Sámi parties. Then everybody had
gákti. But in other gatherings nobody wore gákti. Even the elderly wore Norwegian clothes then. There was a lot of harassment,
especially if one was going to Vadsø. If one was going outside of Nesseby, then it was not easy to wear the gákti».
Gákti thus becomes a garment which is tied to something positive inside the rising Sámi society, but it was not mirrored
in the society at large and especially not in the Norwegian fishing towns along the coast.
Delegates from Nesseby at the Norwegian Sámi Association 14th National meeting, 17.-19.6. 1982 in the gym at Nesseby school. F.l.: Nils Einar Mathisen, unknown, Iver Per Smuk, Einar Siiri, Olav M. Dikkanen and Ole Roska. Photo: John Ole Nilsen.
1 Intervju 13.3.2019.
Uniform use of gákti
In the 1970s there were only a few ladies who sewed gáktis, and they chose to sew what they considered traditional: dark blue wool cloth, with red and yellow decorations. The edge of the sleeves and the skirt were standardized. This gave the impression that there was only one correct way to sew the Nesseby gákti. This was confirmed when courses in sewing gákti were held in the 1970s. Everybody sewed identical gáktis, with identical decorations.
Course in how to sew gákti in the gym at Nesseby school in 1977. In front f.l.: the teachers Duttá-Pier Mággá/Magga Andersen and Magga Bigga Johnsen. Behind f.l.: Birgit Siiri, Bigga Iversen, Ellen Marit Roska, Oline Nilsen, Marie Bergitte Utse, Anna Pettersen, Dagmar Trane, Torill Wigelius and Birgit Teigen. Photo: John Ole Nilsen.
In the picture we see the two teachers in one of the sewing courses in the 1970s: Dutta-Pier-Mággá/Magga Andersen and
Magga Bigga Johnsen. Attending the course were several of those who later have continued the tradition, among others
Marie Birgitte Utse and Birgit Teigen. Birgit Teigen used to sew gáktis to her family and would later teach courses
herself. Her daughter Maggi tells that in her youth she was not so interested. But as an adult she has sewn both to
children and grandchildren. Her sister Irma says that she sewed her first gákti in a course, and that her mother Birgit
later assisted her when she was asked to sew a man’s gákti. It is not so easy to get all the decorations right.
The Nesseby gentleman’s gákti is known to have so much decoration in the back, that it was called a mirror! When the
gákti became popular again, many families had women with the knowledge in their hands, who used their knowledge to
help others. Marie Birgitte used to sew for everyone who did not sew themselves nor had any family members that
sewed. She has sewn for people in the whole municipality and has been an eager supplier.
Liv Nilsen has documented the historical variety in ways of decorating the hem on the sleeves and skirts of the Nesseby gákti. This is presented as a display at Varanger Sámi Museum. Photo: Anna-Kajsa Jernsletten.
Liv Ravna (now Nilsen) worked in the 1980s with documenting the Nesseby gákti. She experienced that it was much more
diverse than she had thought. Especially the womens holbi, the lower edge of the skirt. The surprises were many as she
discovered patterns she had not seen earlier. Before the war it was more common for women to weave and sew, and the
gákti had a more personal look. It was their fantasy and economy that set the limits. In the 19th century they used
both green and red gáktis .
Liv Nilsen has collected 150 different patterns for belts, holbis and shoebands in a book of patterns for weaving
traditional bands. Earlier most villages and families had their own patterns, which made it possible to see where
they belonged. After the war only a few women continued weaving, and the same pattern was used in the whole municipality of
Nesseby . From old gáktis we can see that every seamstress had her own way of decorating the edge of the sleeve.
Some wrinkled it, while others folded it. Some used 3 different colours. Also, on the edge of the skirt there could
be a holbi without woven bands, but instead stripes of wool cloth in red, yellow, blue, green, and black. The
seamstresses could play with the colours when they decorated the gákti.
1 Liv Ravna. «Litt om Nessebykofta». Varanger årbok 1986
2 Liv Nilsen og Jane Juuso. Oahpa čuoldit. Varangerbotn: Isak Saba guovddáš 2018.
3 Juusu m.fl. 2005. Unjárgga gákti, s. 26.
Internal control «The gákti police»
The uniform use of the gákti in the 1970s resulted in rigid boundaries for what was acceptable. Liv Nilsen tells about
when she sewed a green gákti and the neighbour woman commented: «Gosh, that is so ugly!» This was an undisguised
reprimand. But Nilsen had seen that her grandmother’s gákti was green and felt confident that she was being true to
the tradition, even though she had transgressed the common norm which was then established. The length of the skirt
and the width of the decoration had varied since the war. But to use other main colours than blue was considered
wrong in the 1970s.
Among seamstresses who were active in that time in a close to monopoly situation, several still today express their
opinion that blue is the only right colour for Nesseby gákti. These carriers of tradition are often spoken of within
the local community as «the gákti police». These are persons who are confident about their own knowledge and have an
urge to reprimand others when they consider that someone has breached the rules of sewing or using the gákti. She who
had sewn a green gákti was secure enough to continue using it. In this time period, when there was uniformity in the
design of the gákti, it took a great deal of confidence in both sewing technique and cultural knowledge to challenge
the established norm.
Nesseby 1920. F.l.: Marianne Lindseth, Sigrid Utse, Regine Tepsel. Photo: Henrik Nilssen. The use of details such as lace collars shows that people were following the Norwegian fashion trends, even though they continued wearing gákti. Such adjustments are by the authors of the book Unjárgga gákti (2005) presented as an example of how they “Norwegianized” the gákti. Norwegianization is today looked upon as a sign that the Sámi distinctiveness is lost.
Difference between public and private
In the 1970s some of the women started wearing gáktis made of patterned cotton fabrics in public, also on solemn
occasions. Many of the elderly perceived this as a breach on the differentiation between solemn occasions and weekdays.
They had grown up with the use of different types of gáktis for different kinds of occasions. Nils Roska (born 1921):
«On weekdays we used a cheaper gákti. On Sundays, a different, more expensive gákti». Gunvor Dahl Rasmussen (born 1931):
«Grandma always wore gákti. Inside the house, at home, she used simple cotton gáktis. When she went visiting,
she wore a nicer gákti. In the barn and when doing other chores, she used old gáktis. The rest of us wore dresses».
For those who had grown up with a differentiation between staying at home and going away clothes, it was a degrading
experience to see that what they considered private kitchen gáktis were used in public. While the younger generation
made a statement with taking back some of the everyday use of the gákti, for instance in political meetings. The women
often chose patterned cotton fabrics, while the men have been strikingly loyal to the blue wool fabric.
The picture is taken by the entrance to Nesseby school. The Norwegian Sámi Association is holding a National meeting for the 14th time, 17.-19.6.1982. We can see delegates who are having a coffee break and smoking at the staircase. Photo: John Ole Nilsen.
1 Intervju 7.3.2019.
2 Siv Rasmussen. «Lis-áhkkus hus». Varanger årbok 2006, s. 233.
Struggle for rights
In the 1980s there was a decisive change in the view on Sámi rights because of the struggle against the building of a dam across
the Alta river. Several persons from Nesseby were central in the struggle for Sámi rights. The gákti was used in public
demonstrations and actions. The fight against the building of the hydroelectric plant was lost. But the Alta-struggle made way
for the governments acceptance of Sámi rights. This in turn led to that the Norwegian parliament Stortinget passed a Sámi law and
a democratic body was elected. The first Sámi parliament was solemnly opened by King Olav in 1989.
The raised attention on the struggle for Sámi rights did not make it easier for ordinary people to wear gákti in public. The gákti
was in this time perceived by the Norwegian society as a political garment. If you wore gákti outside of clear Sámi contexts,
you could get ugly comments and be perceived as provocative. This meant that many of those who ordinarily wore gákti in public,
saved them for safe, private occasions. In Nesseby the gákti became more common for confirmation in the 1980s. In 1984 half of the
confirmands wore gákti. There were only blue wool gáktis with white silk shawls. By the end of the 1980s white wool cloth had become
popular. This was inspired by old photographs. By bringing back some of the diversity which existed before the war, a greater
room for variation was created.
Jorunn Eikjok was one of those who participated in the hunger strike in front of the Norwegian Parliament in 1979. The picture is from an exhibition after a Sámi handicrafts course she arranged, with the purpose of renewing the gákti. The man sitting is Olav M. Dikkanen (1932-2013), who represented Varanger continously from the first Sámi parliament opened in 1989 until 2005. Karlebotn 15.12.1975. Photo: John Ole Nilsen.
The church as an arena for Sámi community
When Isak Saba from Nesseby ran for election to the Norwegian parliament in 1906, one of his main causes was that the church
should continue using the Sámi language in services and religious books. In Nesseby there is still an official church interpreter.
It is so customary that the church should be bilingual that the psalms are sung simultaneously in both Sámi and Norwegian.
As an official arena in a Sámi municipality, the church is a part of the local culture. A confirmation or other church services
would be unthinkable without both languages in parallel.
Until the second world war it had been common that both confirmant and their family dressed up in gákti. After the war there was a
period when it was fashion among the youth to wear Norwegian suit or skirt. The rest of the confirmants familty could dress up in
gákti, if they had. Since the 1970s it has become more common again that the confirmants wear gákti themselves. From the 1990s it
has been more of an exception that someone does not wear gákti, and chooses Norwegian bunad or other clothes. Also to other churchly
occations, such as baptism and wedding, the use of gákti is high. To funerals it is not so common. It depends on who is being
followed to their final resting place. If it is an outstanding Sámi person, then many will wear gákti in honour of the deceased.
But there is an attitude in Nesseby that the gákti is a festive garment, and thus many feel that it is inappropriate to dress
up in gákti for a funeral.
Generally it is fair to say that the church as an institution has been an arena to promote the use of gákti. For churchly occations
family and relatives gather, and people dress up with the nicest garment they own. For most people in Nesseby gákti is then considered
the natural garment, and you could feel unappropriately dressed if you do not wear gákti to such occations.
Nesseby church, 1977. Photo: John Ole Nilsen.
1 Jernsletten 1986. Samebevegelsen i Norge. Idé og strategi 1900 – 1940,
s. 65.
The Sámi language management area
In the 1990s Nesseby was officially made a bilingual municipality and incorporated into the Sámi language management area.
In 1992 the municipal council decided that all pupils in the municipality should have Sámi language as a subject or as an
educational language . Those who had their first years of school in this period, talk about a new experience. How the Sámi
language was made available for everybody. To some this also meant a strengthening of their own identity and made them
choose to wear gákti for their own confirmation. This was a big step for those who came from families where only the oldest
persons had gáktis, that were hidden in their closets. Sissel Røstgaard (born 1981): «Yeah, it was great to get your own
gákti. When you got the gákti on – then you felt like 2 centimeters taller!»
One consequence of the Sámi law’s language instructions was that issues which had been run by personal engagement and the
hard labour of organizations, became the municipalitiy’s responsibility. It was no longer a personal strive to demand or
put into action measures to secure Sámi language and culture. It had become a public matter. Today it is difficult to appreciate
the fundamental change this has brought.
The committee for Sámi culture was put to work in 1980. Its mandate was to investigate the principal foundations for the
policy of culture and education and to discuss measures which would strengthen the use of language and promote culture. In
the official document from the Norwegian government NOU 1985:14 Samisk kultur og utdanning a language law was suggested.
Instead, the law about the Sámi parliament and other issues of rights (the Sámi law) Lov om Sametinget og andre samiske
rettsforhold (Sameloven) was adopted in 1989. It had specific language instructions, which were implemented i 1992.
It was decided to make Norwegian and Sámi equal languages within a geographically limited area: The Sámi language management
area. When the Ministry of Local Government made the proposal, only 4 municipalities were included: Kautokeino, Karasjok,
Tana and Nesseby. It was considered best to concentrate the resources where Sámi language and culture were strongest, and
the measures would be most effective . Since then, ever more municipalities have applied to become part of this public
language management.
Sissel Røstgaard is one of those who have retrieved both language and gákti, for herself and her children. Photo: Bjarne Riesto, 31.8.2019.
1 Dikkanen 2002. Karlebotn skole og internat 1952-2002.
2 Intervju 15.3.2019.
3 Samelovens språkregler og forvaltningsområdet for samisk språk, https://www.regjeringen.no/no/tema/urfolk-og-minoriteter/samepolitikk/ samiske-sprak/samelovens-sprakregler-og-forvaltningsom/id633281/
4 Paul Pedersen og Asle Høgmo. Sápmi slår tilbake. Samiske revitaliserings- og moderniseringsprosesser i siste generasjon. ČálliidLágádus 2012.
A garment for showing affiliation
Since 1950 language and ethnisity has not been registered, but in the Unjárgga gielda/Nesseby municipalitys Language plan
2018-2021, it is stated that «the majority of the residents have Sámi background, and more than half speak or understand both
Sámi and Norwegian. Sámi is still most common among those over 50». The municipality is today bilingual, with northern Sámi
and Norwegian as equal languages. This is shown through signage, paralell kindergarden and schooling opportunities in both
languages, and access to both languages in communal services in general.
The sentiment of the 2000s is that the gákti is taken for granted. It is more common to wear gákti for confirmation, than not
to wear it. In 2002 all the confirmands wore gákti. A whole generation has grown up with the official bilinguality as a matter
of course. It is more the rule than the exception that Sámi politicians wear gákti in official settings. As when the elected
representatives gather. The Sámi president rarely appears in public without gákti, and the same goes for her members of council.
Bernhard Iversen was a church administrator of Nesseby for many years. He wore gákti for the first time to the 300 years anniversary of the first church building in Nesseby municipality, at Angsnes 18.8.2019. In the picture is also church interpreter Jaana Valle, who always wears gákti when translating. Priest Egil Lønnmo wearing his priestly garment. Photo: Jorunn Jernsletten.
Also locally the politicians in Nesseby wear gákti to municipal council meetings. This expresses strong signals that the gákti
is our garment, which can be used when there is a need to signal where you belong. An elderly gentleman, who did not wear
gákti growing up, but who has obtained a gákti as an adult, expressed that when he was going to the capital city Oslo for
an official occation then gákti was the only garment relevant for dressing up. «You have to show where you come from!» was
his statement.
To the generation now growing up this means that gákti is something you see almost daily. There are plenty of role models in
all ages and genders in social media, and new trends in fashion are tried out by both younger and elderly artists. Even in
families where the adults are not comfortable with wearing gákti, this gives the children an opportunity to identify with other
users of gákti. In a way we are back to the descriptions from the 1920s. If you don’t wear gákti on the National Day, you stick
out. In Nesseby it is today as it was a hundred years ago accepted that you wear gákti even if you are not Sámi by descent,
because then you are a part of the herd. In that way you could say that the gákti can be reckoned as a fashion garment.
In the generation growing up in the post war period, there are fewer people using gákti. They explain that they did not get used
to wearing gákti in their youth when dressing up, because it was only small children and elderly people who wore gákti then. It
is not because they are ashamed to be Sámi that they don’t wear gákti. On the opposite, they speak Sámi in public at the store
and in the church. Still, it is possible that they unconsciously carry negative sentiments towards the use of gákti from the
time they were growing up, which was a time marked by poverty and Norwegianization.
One of those who got himself a gákti when he had reached 70 years, was the longtime church employee Bernhard Iversen. He
used gákti publicly the first time at the 300 years celebration of the first church building in the municipality. When it
took so long as to 2019 before he wore the gákti, it was not because he did not want to present himself as a Sámi. On the
contrary, he had been using Sámi language in his work publicly, so nobody could doubt that Sámi is his first language. But
wearing the gákti had not been neccesary to conduct his work. However, as with many in his generation, it became striking
when everybody else were wearing gákti to church, and he was not.
Although gáktis are worn on many occations these days, there is still a conciousness around which situations you do not want
to wear gákti. Kjell Trane (born 1947): «You have to be careful, it is not always suitable to wear gákti. You have to consider
in advance how people will react. It can be a great strain. You dread, and you try. You put on the gákti and feel. How is
this going to be? Never here in Nesseby, but in other places. In Vadsø it is not so bad anymore, neither in Vardø. But other
places on the Finnmark coast. Those places there are many who harass Sámis. I don’t think I would wear gákti there. Maybe
it has become better now? When I am in the south I don’t have to be afraid. But I still have to consider whether it is suitable.
It is a garment that people in the south are not so used to seeing. And then some people say that we only wear gákti to boast
and show off, to get attention.»
Sissel Røstgaard (born 1981) tells that she has never received comments that she is wearing gákti in situations where it is
not suitable, but sometimes she thinks: «in the south, the challenge on special occations, when you are the only one with gákti –
that you could steel the brides thunder. I haven’t experienced it myself, but I have heard many telling about that it almost
felt wrong, to get so much attention.» Outside of Nesseby people adjust their use of gákti also to take into account other
people’s feelings.
Diversity and identity
As gákti again became a garment everybody could wear, then the need arose to express not only common identity, but also
individual distinctiveness. This was often commented upon, and the debate is still active on how much the decoration can
be altered before the gákti loses its regional mark. It is accepted that gáktis can have different colours. But it is still
the way it is sewn, and the placement and composition of the decoration, which indicates what geographical area it belongs
to. There seems to be a common agreement on the ground principle that every gákti should have a geographical affiliation.
It is not an alternative to sew a gákti from an area where you do not have relatives or other affiliation to. If you have
lived for a long time in Nesseby, it is accepted to use Nesseby gákti, also if you do not have Sámi ancestry or if you are
Sámi from another Sámi territory. But it is not accepted to mix elements from different geographical areas. Within each
area there are however possibilities for variation, and therein lies the room for expressing individual personality.
Today it gives status to give courses in sewing gákti or weaving shoe bands. This is traditional handcrafts that are
highly valued by the local community. Since the 1990s it has been fashion to wear Sámi traditional footwear when wearing
gákti. This has meant a vitalization of woven bands. In over a hundred years it has been customary to wear Norwegian footwear
when dressed up with the gákti. Sámi footwear was for everyday use. Today the outfit for a confirmation is not considered
complete without Sámi footwear and shoe bands. But this connection came in the 1990s. One of those who started wearing gákti
in these years, was told that it was wrong that she had regular footwear when wearing gákti. This comment made her not dare
to use the gákti for a whole year. Today it is again socially accepted to have varied footwear when wearing gákti, in
accordance with the occasion. Concerning this aspect there is also a constant change in fashion.
Lisbeth Olsen is an active weaver of shoebands in many varieties. She has also held course at the Isak Saba language centre. Photo: Bjarne Riesto 6.2.2020.
There has been much discussion on how the women should put their silk shawls tight with silver brooches in the right manner.
There are YouTube-videos shared before every National Day. As a response to the pressure on correct use of shawls many have
gotten inspired by pictures from the 1920s, when the women often had small scarves inside the gákti. Then the small brooches
that kept the front together were visible. This has become a counter trend to the use of big shawls kept in place with big,
expensive brooches. For some this is a symbol of a sea Sámi frugality in contrast to what they perceive as a flashy inland
culture. To not wear a shawl makes the dressing up easier, which has appealed to the younger generation. They depended on
adults to help them dress up «properly» but can nowadays manage on their own. This has in turn led to the youth wearing
gákti in new settings all the time.
At the end of the day, it is the reaction you get from people you meet – whether it is experienced as safe and affirmative –
which decides whether you will wear the gákti or not. The gákti is not a regular garment. It is in a way your identity you
dress up in and expose. That means that you are more vulnerable for criticism. If you do not dare to wear gákti because of
negative comments, then you do not get to show who you are and where you belong. That is a serious matter.
Summary
To wear a gákti is today considered to stand out with a public, visible Sámi identity.
But that depends on in which circumstances a person is wearing gákti. In the municipality of Nesseby, it has been a
norm from far back to include those who come to live here into the local, Sámi culture. Clothing is one element
amongst others. Thus, you do not have to be a Sámi to wear gákti in Nesseby. And you can be a profiled Sámi person
without using gákti.
A hundred years ago it was commonplace to speak the Sámi language and wear gákti every day for most people in
Nesseby. In the school it had been forbidden to speak the Sámi language since the end of the 19th century, other
than under absolutely necessary circumstances. This was of course locally adapted in different ways, depending
on which teachers were employed. Schooling was of little importance to the general way of life. For most people
it was just something you had to endure before you could continue the daily life in the coastal Sámi community,
where most people were living in a manner of self-subsistence based on a combination of fishery, livestock,
reindeer herding, hunting, gathering and trapping in the forests and mountains. In this livelihood Sámi clothing
and language dominated the everyday life. It is only after the second world war that there is a marked change
in this image.
There was much debate around the change towards more Sámi language in the school after the war. Most school
boards in the Sámi municipalities went against a strengthening of Sámi language, also in Nesseby. The argument
was a fear of being left out from the Norwegian community and become a reservation without any development. In
Nesseby it seems that the change to speaking Norwegian as a first language gained speed after the war. This is
linked to the large increase in children and an all-time high in the population in 1950. The locals knew that
there would not be work for all the 1500 inhabitants, and that most of the youth would have to seek their fortune
as employees elsewhere. In the census of 1950, more than 60% stated that they had Sámi as their first language.
This means that the language still had a strong foothold.
Even in the 1960s there were children starting school without complete Norwegian language skills. That it
was necessary that these learned Norwegian was understood. You would not reach far into the world with only
Sámi language, as it was said. How this should be obtained was subject to different strategies: Leave it to
the school or take action through changing language at home? The parents chose what they thought would benefit
their children. In this perspective it is comprehensible that Nesseby school board in the beginning of the 1960s
was negative towards the Sámi committees’ proposal to start up Sámi language education in school. They could
not see how this would benefit the youth. To the contrary, it was seen as a hindrance for the Sámi youth to step
into the Norwegian labour market and take part in the increased prosperity.
The Norwegian National Day parade 17.5.2019, Varangerbotn. Photo: Charles Petterson.
But it is one issue to learn Norwegian for functional reasons. Something quite different is the negative
and condescending view on Sámi language and culture that was the foundation of the state’s Norwegianization
policy. A mixture of Norwegian nationalism and social Darwinism, where Sámi people were considered less
developed and without resources to obtain the same level of civilization as the Norwegian people. This
made way for the Norwegian citizens’ lack of respect and recognition of Sámi peoples’ intrinsic value.
The social consequences of the Norwegianization are probably most obvious in the attitudes against Sámi
in the Norwegian coastal communities. The condescending assessment of Sámi culture and way of life for
over a century had created a hierarchy, where Sámi people were at the bottom. This resulted in that Sámi
people were harassed in the Norwegian coastal communities. To avoid wearing gákti was a way of avoiding
showing your Sámi identity and thus avoid negative reactions. Of course, you were disclosed in other ways,
because even though you could speak Norwegian, the dialect was revealing. None the less, it was for sure
no point in exposing yourself for the stress of wearing gákti, except from in the safety of the Sámi
environments in the inland communities.
The Norwegianization did not only affect changes in language and cultural traits. It could give a serious
blow to the self esteem. This was one of the main arguments for the rising Sámi political movement in the
1950s. There had been a wave of Sámi political engagement at the beginning of the 20th century. But this
was so strongly counteracted that the founders, like Isak Saba, gave in. The harsh period lasted until
after the second world war, when there was a gradual change in attitudes concerning minority policies.
There was however little knowledge on how to make a change from a onesided negative attitude towards a
more accepting and providing policy. It would take a whole generation before there was a mass movement,
which managed to change the view on the Sámi past from a degrading history to a cultural treasure.
There are many practical changes that have taken place, such as education in Sámi language in school.
But the most difficult to change has been the negative attitude and lack of acceptance that there is an
intrinsic value in anyting of Sámi origin. The attitude towards Sámi people has gone from direct discrimination
to ridicule. In this project however, it is not the others’ view on the Sámi which has been in focus. I
have used interviews to provide a glimps into how several generations in Nesseby have experienced their
relationship to the gákti. In this way we get to know a bit about which feelings and thoughts are connected
to what is today considered a symbolic expression of Sámi identity. Indirectly peoples’ relations to the
gákti also tell a lot about how the Norwegianization and Sámi vitalization processes have affected their
lives, and how they personally have experienced these processes.
The way we present ourselves to others affects in return on how we view ourselves. When people post profile
pictures in social media dressed in gákti or wear gákti to public occations outside of Nesseby, it is both
an expression of their self-esteem and an affirmation of it. That people are proud to show in public that
they come from Nesseby by wearing the local gákti can seem as a matter of course. But precisely showing
that you come from a sea Sámi community has not always been positively charged. On the contrary, people
were ridiculed and stigmatized long after the authorities’ official Norwegianization policies were
abandoned.
To take back a Sámi pride has taken several generations, and still it can be difficult for the generation
who grew up in the post-war period to wear gákti. Luckily the youngest generation born in the new Millenium
has grown up with the Sámi culture as a matter of course in a positive manner. This helps to transform the
negative sentiments that the elder generations still carry. The joy of showing where you come from by wearing
Nesseby gákti surmounts the risk of negative attention, which can still occur outside the safe environment
of our sea Sámi municipality.