I remember being in first grade when I stepped into my first Navajo Language class. We all found our seats and the teacher said “yizi” which means to stand up in Navajo. We did and she pointed to a poster that had the Pledge of Allegiance in Navajo. By this point in school, all of us already knew how to say the Pledge of Allegiance in Navajo because we would say it every morning before class started. We all read it in unison and she said “sida” which means to sit down in Navajo. She then pointed in each direction and asked us which way she was pointing. We all yelled “SOUTH! SOUTH! SOUTH!” She told us that was correct, then she taught us how to say south in Navajo. We preceded to do this for all of the directions while she taught us about the mountains, colors and animals associated with each direction. She gave us all a sheet of paper that had a tree on it, in each corners of the paper there was a line and a picture of a Navajo person. She told us that we needed to find out what our clans are, we were to give this paper to our parents and have them teach us our clans.
I went home on the bus and showed my sister who is two years older than me the paper I was supposed to show our parents, She said, “oh yeah, I did that last year this one is...” “STOP IT!” I yelled, “I want mom to teach me not you.” She got mad and changed seats so I had to sit alone all the way home. When we got home it was 3:30 pm, my dad got home at 4 pm, I ran to the door to open it when I heard the sound of a vehicle parking from outside. I opened it ecstatically hoping it was my mother only to be disappointed.
“Hello sweetie”
“Ugh hi dad.”
“Whats wrong?”
“I want mom to come home so I can do my homework with her.”
“She wont be home until 5, I can help you with your homework.”
“No you cant.”
“Why?”
”Because you’re white.”
I went back to my post on the couch watching Thats so Raven while I peeked through the window to see if my mom was home yet. I called her three times to tell her to come home early because although she got off work at 5 pm, she wouldn’t come home until after 6 pm because she always worked late. Every time I called she would tell me that she would be home at 5:15 pm. I watched the clock persistently while I continuously rejected my sisters offers to help me with my homework. 5:13 pm, I ran outside and sat on the pouch of the double wide, white and dark green trailer I called home. The rez dogs came up to me to see if I would pet them while I waited. I was too excited for my mom to get home to pet them. I ran back inside multiple times to check what time it was. I looked and it was finally 5:15 pm. I ran outside again and I only saw my dads dark green truck parked in the dirt we called the driveway. She came home at 5:20 pm, on rez time of course.
She walked into her room as I explained the assignment to her. She sat down on her bed and started taking off her shoes, I crawled onto her bed and laid down behind her as I told her what we did in class. she took off her jacket and she laid down on my small belly while I cried out for help because she was squishing me. She laughed and I rolled over so she could lay down next to me. She explained to me how the clan system worked. She told me how women pass down their clans to their kids because in Navajo, women are stronger than men. They are tougher and more resilient, they are dominant. She told me that my first clan is Tlaashch’i, red bottom people clan. I laughed because the little mind of mine was thinking about how my family had red bottoms. My mom told me that you could also say red cheeks because my nickname when I was a child was Azaan Chee, Red Woman. I was called this because my cheeks were always sunburned a red color. She told me that because my dad was white, I had to say beeshbich’a which means red helmets for Germans.
The next day, I was excited to go to Navajo class. When we got to class, our teacher started with the students on the opposite side of the room from me. When I first walked in, I was excited to present my clans because I was so proud of who I was. I was proud of myself for being able to say my clans in Navajo, for knowing my identity. When a couple students finished presenting, our teacher mentioned how there are four original clans. These clans were not mine and this left an empty feeling in my stomach, I started to look around at everyone in the class and I realized I was the only white person there. The emptiness grew until it felt like it was running in my blood. This was understandable because I finally realized how un-pure my blood was. My blood is a messy combination of a german family who came her for a better life only to ruin the lives of others and the blood of resilient Navajos who fought for me to be here. When it was my turn to speak I could hardly get my legs to stand.
“Ya’at’eeh shi ei Tyra Nicolay yinishye, Tlaashchi nishli doo kiyani bashshicheen, Bitani dashicheii doo Todeecheeni dashinali.” Everyone who was my “clans” raised their hands to show that we are related to each other. The next person presented. After class, when we were playing on the playground before the buses came we were telling each other that since we are related we have to share our hot cheetoes with each other.
When I got home, I went to my room and took a nap. I woke up to my mom asking me if I was okay and I told her that my stomach hurt. The next day during class, my teacher called out the names of ten students. My name was not called. These students were told to go to Navajo class and the rest of us were asked to stay in the room to practice our reading and writing. I asked my teacher why we couldn’t go to Navajo class anymore. She told me that since I was a good reader, they needed me to practice instead so I could get the highest score on the test. The previous year, I tested out of first grade but my parents did not want me to move up, the school wanted me to test out again to make my parents pressured to move me up and to give the school good credentials. I didn’t take a Navajo language class again until I was in high school.
