Return to rez tougher than it looks

Life on the reservation has challenges, especially for someone used to the amenities of life in most of the United States.

I came back in January expecting life to be different. I went from enjoying a super-fast Internet connection and good cell phone reception at all my favorite restaurants and coffee joints, to learning to make all my calls in Window Rock and Fort Defiance before I went home.

I suppose I could have a home phone installed, but off the reservation, landlines are becoming obsolete.

This is where someone here on the rez will tell me, "Yeah, but that's off the rez. You're on the reservation now."

Yeah, I am. I'm in a place where time seems to stand still. That is comforting, knowing that I can leave for nearly two decades and return to see familiar sights. But customer service, technology, and attitudes have all remained the same too.

Caution: From this point on I may mention names. In no way is this indicative of the entire 250,000 or so people who also live here. My beefs are specific.

Maybe this is an urban idea, but if I am using my money pay for or ask for a service, perhaps the person behind the counter should be thankful for my business. Instead, I have felt belittled a time or two, like it's my mistake to not ask the right questions.

By the same token, just because I have money and am Navajo doesn't entitle me to act up when I don't get my way.

But thank you, Navajo Tribal Utility Authority, for making huge strides in customer service and putting up with me when I felt entitled.

The facts of life here include interminable delays in approving rights-of-way and land use permits, so like many other Navajos my cellular dilemma continues. I like my longstanding provider - when it gets reception here - but the local provider has the best coverage. Regrettably, it has a bad rep for customer service, at least among my friends.

But those issues pale in comparison to being the butt of jokes because people perceive me as an "urban Indian."

It's as though I have to like mutton, speak Navajo, know what "second night" is, haul water and cut my own firewood, or like purple welts on my neck to mark territory, in order to qualify as Navajo in some people's eyes.

I like mutton, though I can't say I'm expert enough to name the sheep's home chapter upon eating it. I can't speak Navajo and have gotten the pitiful tone in response from people when I've made that known.

I learned what second night is last year, but haven't been to one since. I've been called lazy because I buy wood.

And I'm sure there are other imperfections in my Navajo-ness that people have yet to make known to me. And like my customer service experiences, all that somehow is my fault as well.

The truth is, growing up on the reservation I heard many times that we young people should get educated and come back to help our people. I and plenty of others have done that. For some, maybe, coming back wasn't a big change but for me, it's been a learning experience.

I learned that no matter what I do, for some I am just simply an urban Navajo. But I'll take that.

I talked once with Patrick Sandoval, the president's chief of staff, and he talked about how the quality of life needs to improve in order to recruit Navajo professionals back to Navajo.

I don't know if what I've experienced was necessarily what he was thinking, but for me quality comes in simplicity - simply don't judge me for what you see.

Having experienced life where I was treated fairly - I'm thinking here mainly of my years in southeastern Oklahoma - it's more than a little ironic to come home and face bias.

I understand why some of my Native friends - Navajo and other tribes - don't want to return to their homes because the story is the same.

And we're not even talking about the economic situation here.

The idea I have to prove myself in a cultural realm that is completely subjective is nonsense.

But I guess feeling culturally superior to a fellow Navajo is part of life on the reservation.

Unfortunately, that might be a reason why 20 years from now, things will be the same. Yeah, life on the reservation is tough and will probably stay tough.

Back to top ^

Text size: A A A  E-mail this story