Ceremonies

by Lin Stone

The ceremonies we participate in can teach us as much about ourselves as they do about those in the ceremony with us.  Last week I was privileged to visit the Dine College in Window Rock where I spoke for half an hour on keeping traditions alive in the heart while venturing out into the world of Euromericans.

This was a talking circle and each of the students also rose to share the thoughts and feelings of their heart. One is majoring in sociology, wants to be in criminology, but she is an alcoholic and sees no way out.  Computers are very much a part of her future.  She wants to grow up with her children, has the courage to learn.  "Computers can keep families together."

Another spoke on the importance of setting goals, having reached every goal he has set in the past 10 years.  "Now I am undecided what I want to do, though I felt inspired to come back to school."

Another man admitted he was a cyber freak, stuck in a family situation and wanting to take care of the.  His heart is set upon developing another approach to psychology, meeting his clients in bars, or down in the ditch if that is where they are most comfortable.  "You have to be in your own environment to learn."

Yet another is collecting cans to pay for his college education while his girlfriend stays home to take care of their little girl.  His girlfriend wants to attend college too, but there aren't enough cans, "maybe when we go to Flagstaff for additional education."

Gary is studying computer science and games.  "I want to design computer games."

The reason another is in college was she wanted to be looked up to as a child.  She has a boyfriend, and wants to become a registered nurse.

Francisco is just starting college.  His only goals were having a good time, travel, doing what he wanted to.  He married his high school sweetheart and they have their first daughter.

Elsie spent 8 years in the Army before coming home and going to college.  Her goal is to help others through sports.

Kailey, part Cherokee, was born in Nebraska, part of the All American Home.  "A dysfunctional home doesn't mean a dysfunctional future."

One spoke of the hazards of being married to the wrong man, of broken bones, finding someone to talk to.  "I want to live where women are not battered."  She thought he would be her companion for life, and instead found herself thrust down at home with a low paying job.  Now she goes to school full time, thanks to her parents.  Her advice echoed with tears.  "Make sure he is right for you because he will leave you with the child.  You can't depend on another person changing.  You must depend on yourself."

Other aspirations are to be in the FBI, be a medical assistant, expand a successful business, help the children growing up, do what they can for the community, market services on the web.

One minister I listened to had just returned from a short mission to South America.  "They have it tough down there, no phones, no television, no running water or indoor plumbing."

I studied the impassive faces of the friends around me and wondered why he was teaching on the reservation if he did not know most of the people he was talking to were in the same boat.  There is a myth that the Navajo are rich, with thousands of dollars going to each tribal member every month.  This is simply not so.  There may be that much money allotted, but it is not going to the members, or even for the members.  If there is that much money coming down it is dropping off in strange pockets before it reaches the reservation.

Even the money that gets to the reservation is spent most unwisely from not listening to the Elders of the clans where it is to be spent.  Those edifices built under BIA auspices where money is spent like many waters, crumble worthless in a few short years while those works erected by the Navajo grow stronger and more beautiful with the years. 

One constant theme I heard was that it is time to bring Peter McDonald home, home to walk on sacred ground and hear the old ones sing in the wind.

Gone to a Federal prison for 15 years now, to a far land so distant it requires a pilgrimage for his relatives to come visit him.

Once upon a time Peter was the darling of the media.  He was held in high esteem and set as an example for all the world.  His good works were extolled even by his enemies.

I can only add my voice to theirs.  The Euromericans have done enough harm to the Dineh. It is time to bring Peter McDonald home. 

Terra Cotta Artists

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