What are you?

(I wrote the majority of the post in the fall of 2013! I did not intend to be so deep in my thoughts as to form the response below. I simply wanted to share a piece of my livelihood. A piece of culture that molds me and my family. I wanted to share my experience in attending the Tuba City Fair parade with my parents. It was great to return to my homeland and enjoy the company and humor of my people.)

What are you?

I sense that the serious answer to this question has the makings of a powerful essay that delves into the evolution of who I am at the present time. It would be an exhaustive history of moments that are not limited to my life, but to that of my parents and their progenitors. As individuals, we are a composite of generations of men and women who were impacted by the events in their family, their community, and nation. I prefer to dwell more on those thoughts and save the sharing of that topic for a more selected audience. 

Returning to the point of this post, I posed this question because I was asked it at a banquet when I was a student at the University of Arizona. I remember I fumbled in my answer because the question caught me off guard. What did the person want to hear? “Uhhhm... I am human.”  The questioner did not crack a smile, furrow their eyebrows in confusion, or give a peep. Instead he continued to stare at me expectantly until I answered more appropriately (I can only assume). So I continued with, “I am a Mormon...a student...a Wildcat! (Pump fist in the air and grunt)  Bear Down.” Unimpressed with whatever I was saying, the person then turned to the person beside me and asked the same question. She responded with a breakdown of her scant native blood quantum and smattering of European ancestry. I’m fairly certain I started laughing, not at the woman’s response, but at myself. Depending on the time of day, I think the question is quite ridiculous. At all other times of the day, I suppose I admire the question. So why?

I like the question because it inspires many answers. Tracing my educational paths, I could easily say I have been a Bobcat (elementary school), a Panther (middle school), Sand Devil (high school), Wildcat (University of Arizona), and Gopher (University of Minnesota). I could proudly state all of the HP characters I have dressed as over the years. My point is I have been many things. Yet, there is something most beautiful about the genetic answer to such a question—the inheritance of who we are as a human. Specifically, I am a Navajo. This means something! To expound further, I am Tódích’íi’nii, born for Kinliichíi’ni. My cheii is Kinyaa’aanii and my nalí is Tséníjíkiní. (Translation: I am of the Bitter Water Clan, born for the Red House People Clan. The Towering House People are my maternal grandfather’s clan and the Cliff Dwelling People are my paternal grandfather’s clan.) I love talking and writing about this part of me. Being Navajo is unique! And also confusing at times because their is a tragic component to the history that trickles down to the present day. It makes the people I am a part of more beautiful and rich in my mind. I left my family after high school to pursue knowledge that was only accessible outside the protection of the four sacred mountains. I returned every year, but my visits were brief and I missed out on family reunions, community events, and Navajo Nation celebrations. More than ten years later, I returned to my parents home for a longer vacation and was rewarded with opportunities to immerse myself in the culture. On one particular chill weekend, my parents and I drove to Tuba City, AZ to watch the parade that kicks off the TC fair. Pictures of that day are shown below. 

Colorful dresses that are NOT reflective of Navajo apparel. These girls are from a different vibrant tribe!

The gang of horse riders who sang "Amarillo by Morning" by George Strait a cappella. Of course, my dad  had a few buddies in this crew. 

The only picture I took of a dog. However it was one of many pictures that my dad took. One of the goals he expressed prior to the parade--to take a picture of every dog that wandered through it. 

One of my favorite moments of the parade. A woman dressed as a condom to spread HIV awareness and other STD prevention. So much candy was distributed and requested by onlookers, but everyone shied away from this brave woman as she tried to give out condoms. My mom commented, "A man should have slipped into that instead of a woman." Hahahaha.

Super creative. A covered wagon with Blue Bird flour sacks sewn together for a canvas. 

A feast for the eyes and soul. The mutton combo lunch which features one mutton rib, ach'ii, and a slab of roast mutton on frybread and sweet corn with a can of pop. Delicious.

My second favorite drink/food after butterbeer (drink) or mutton (food)- snow cones. 

These watermelon are HUGE! This picture does not capture the size comparison, but they were pretty impressive to me. So much that I took a picture.