Yá’át’ééh shi éà NánÃbaa’ yinishyé. Tsé njÃkinà éà nishli dóó Tótsohnii báshÃshchÃÃn. Ãádóó Táchii’nii éà da shichei dóó Kiyaa’áanii éà da shinálÃ. Kót’éego éà Diné asdzáán nishlÃ. Ishi Bishi Ak'inaashdlizhii dóó yinishyé éà bádà biniinaa alk’idáá shi’ázhi’. Shima Lók’aanteel di bighan áádóó shizhé’é Steamboat Canyon di bighan. Shima NázlÃnÃdi ólta’di naalnish áádóó shizhé’é t’áá hooghandi naalnish. Shima dóó shizhé’é Ãiyisi bÃhoséssa’.
Lók’aanteel déé Ãiyisi naashá. Dóó Tséhootsooà di shi’dizhchÃ’. New Jersey di shighan. Lats’áadah nááhaigo áadi shighan.Tádiin dóó ba’aa t’áálá’à shinááhai. Yaadilah sanà asdzáán silÃÃ. Shi’álchÃnà ádin ‘ÃyisÃà nisin ndi dóó shee hóló. Shi’ach’oonÃdóó Diné nilà éà biniinaa shi’álchÃnà ádin. Shi’ach’oonà éà bilagáana nilà Italian hoolyé. Naaki shi’lééchaa’à Waka áádóó Yazhà éÃshi’awee ádaat’é. Shi’lééchaa’à t’áá’Ãiyisi 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 NánÃbaa‘, 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 currently reside on the east coast, away from my family & people. It has been a lonely journey, however every morning I greet the sun and give him my offerings. In return he brings with him my grandmother, she rides her horse by his side - my protector. For a brief moment in the stillness of early dawn I can be with her again. She comes through me with the fierceness of her light, from the tip of my toes to the top of my head, from my left hand to my right. She touches my heart, my thinking, my being, preparing me for the new day before me. 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.