Yá’át’ééh shi éí Náníbaa’ yinishyé. Tsé njíkiní éí nishli dóó Tótsohnii báshíshchíín. Áádóó Táchii’nii éí da shichei dóó
Kiyaa’áanii éí da shinálí. Kót’éego éí Diné asdzáán nishlí. Ishi Bishi Ak'inaashdlizhii dóó yinishyé éí bádí biniinaa alk’idáá shi’ázhi’.
Shi’ach’ooní dóó Diné nilí éí biniinaa shi’álchíní ádin. Shi’ach’ooní éí bilagáana nilí Italian hoolyé. Naaki shi’lééchaa’í Waka áádóó Yazhí éí shi’awee ádaat’é. Shi’lééchaa’í t’áá’íiyisi shil yá’át’ééh.
I am a Diné (pronounced Din-neh), more commonly known in English as Navajo. An indigenous woman to this country called the United States of America.
I am of the Honey Comb Rock People.
I was born for the Big Water People.
My maternal grandfather is of the Red Running Into Water People.
My paternal grandfather is of the Towering House People.
I was taught by my late grandmother that as a Diné, I am to always properly introduce myself by conveying my four clans. My Diné name is Náníbaa‘, this is the name that identifies myself with our Holy People. It means 'she that has returned from the raid.'
I was born & raised on the reservation, mainly in the care of my non-English speaking grandmother. She made sure that the Diné language was my first language & scolded me for speaking any English. She wasn't fond of the white man's influences on any of her grandchildren.
During our long days out while grazing the sheep in the vast openness of the reservation, I use to sing to her & our animals. I made up my own songs, usually about an animal or insect we came across in our daily travels. There I was with my unkempt braids, red clay on my face (our version of sunscreen), singing away. I sung to the sheep, I sung to the sheepdogs, I sung to the horse that carried us and I sung to my grandmother whom always enjoyed the silliness of my entertainment. She would smile at me and chuckle, encouraging me to sing more. Those long quiet sheep herding days are all but a distant memory now, memories that I have come to cherish as I mature into the woman that my grandmother envisioned me to be. I miss my grandmother tremendously. I owe every aspect of my being to her, as she raised me to value my heritage, my family and to never forget who I am and where I come from. I am Diné and proud of it.
I lived away from my family & the reservation for 14 years, chasing white man's dream. The chase has been long, hard, adventurous and most rewarding, however the sacred emptiness within yearned to bring this adventurous Dine' girl home. It was time to come home.
So I am home. I walk the nurturing loving path that my grandmothers have weaved for me and take my place in their absence. It is sad to be home and see grandmother's sheep camp without her. I face the warm sun, feel the cool breeze blowing and realize that she is here with me too. Whispering the breeze into my face, welcoming me home. It is good to be back within the four sacred mountains. Life is good.
I am truly grateful for the many good things that have come to me and am even more grateful for the many more good things to come.
..
