Spring break 2011. I decided to embark on an alternative service break trip instead of getting sun poisoning on the beach again. Turned out to be one of the greatest decisions I made during my freshman year of college. It was a humbling week in the southwest on the land of the great Navajo Nation. Our experience and service centered around Native American culture and an elementary school on the reservation. I was paired up with a wonderful 5th grade Navajo teacher, Ms. Frank. She was a sweet, grandmotherly type that truly cared for her students. I would be lying if I said the students were well behaved and eager to learn. Quite the opposite. Yes they were capable of more than the teachers ever expected, but they were bored, troubled and could care less that it showed. They weren’t to be blamed. How could they when every mundane minute they were drilled with nothing but reading (about some girls stranded on a deserted island, really?) and math. The elementary school, Mariano Lake Community School, was where I got my first glimpse of a different life.
During one of our enlightening team reflections, we talked about how we the more “affluent and fortunate” living in our developed cities differed from these poverty stricken Native Americans. We had better homes. We had better roads and transportation. We had better animal control. Then the conversation turned to how they were “better” than us. They had a great sense of community. Their families were close. They lived a simple life compared to our sometimes chaotic ones. They had rich stories and natural medicines they passed down the generations. They had their beautiful crafts and jewelry and traditions that united them as a people. By the end of our discussion, I realized there really isn’t just one ideal life. We have to decide what matters to us today, tomorrow, in our lifetime. Sure money, power, fame are important, but they are but fleeting dreams. Perhaps we should all take some time to pass along our stories, to sit and talk with familiy, to be at peace with who we are, to be proud of who we are.
I could spend 10 pages writing about all I saw and experienced. The beautiful mesas and mountains that took our breathes away. The massive canyons filled with a history of years past. The kind natives that gently laughed while I struggled to learn and butcher a few Navajo words. Somehow my words would fail to completely describe, my pictures could not fully capture the beauty in the land and people. Besides, 10 pages would be quite a bit to read and write. My last bit about New Mexico was that the students I worked with challenged, frustrated, inspired and changed me. I never thought working with kids was in my future, but the ones I finally won over and broke my heart because I had to leave them have made me give that thought some mulling over.
The new outlook on what constitutes a happy life and how traditions and identity unites a people will not soon be forgotten. In one short week I fell in love with the land of enchantment (lovingingly called entrapment because you’ll never want to leave).
(photo by Rivers Baker)
