Reflections from the hogan

A Native response to Mitt Romney's promise to "never apologize for the United States of America"

2011-12-19T13:27:00.002-07:00

A few weeks ago Mitt Romney released a campaign video in which he boldly stated that, as President, he would "never apologize for the United States of America." I would like to ask him to clarify those remarks for the nearly 4 million Native Americans citizens of this country.

A few years ago, the Canadian Prime Minister issued a public apology to the First Nations people of Canada. That apology stemmed from the injustice of residential schools that the First Nations people suffered at the hand of the European immigrants who entered their land and aggressively laid claim to it. This apology did not solve the problems between Canada's immigrant population and the indigenous peoples of that land. Nor was this apology in any way an ending point. But it was a necessary and important step to take.

Reconciliation is a journey, a process, a rebuilding of trust. It is not accomplished in a single action, nor does it necessarily have a clearly defined ending point. Reconciliation is a journey to restore a relationship, and apologizing is an essential part of that journey.

I am 41 years old, and I have been married for 13 years with 3 children. One of the reasons my marriage is still healthy and my children still love me is because I learned a long time ago of the indispensible value of a sincere and well-timed apology.

No one is perfect. We all, at one point or another, act selfishly, arrogantly, ignorantly and even maliciously. It is a part of being human. The strongest people I have known and the most effective leaders I have followed are those who honestly acknowledge this.

I have found that the more intimate the relationship or the more elevated the role of leadership, the more necessary the ability to apologize becomes. In other words, you may be able to maintain a casual acquaintance with a co-worker without apologizing, but if your acquaintance becomes your friend and over time your friend becomes your spouse, then I am quite certain that the opportunity and the need to apologize in that relationship will present itself time and time again.

By the same token, you may be able to lead a small three-member committee to raise funds for a local charity and complete your term without having to apologize to your fellow committee members for unkind words or insensitive actions. But let’s say that same committee is successful and continues year after year, and the organization becomes increasingly dependent upon the funds you are raising. The pressure mounts and the amount of funds raised grows exponentially. Then, again, the opportunity and need to apologize to the members on the committee, for thoughtless words spoken in haste or insensitive actions due to the growing pressure, will present itself time and time again.

The bio on Mitt Romney’s campaign website communicates that over the past 42 years he has raised a family, maintained a healthy marriage and built and led successful business ventures. With all of that experience building and maintaining those multitudes of relationships, I am willing to bet that if he were completely honest he could give a powerful exhortation on the indispensible value of a sincere and well-timed apology.

The office of the President is the most powerful, public and complex office in our land. It requires the holder to build, maintain, lead and reconcile relationships throughout our country and the world. Therefore, it baffles me that a top-tier candidate for this office would make such a seemingly shortsighted and arrogant statement that he will "never apologize for the United States of America."

Those words may score political points during a partisan debate, but they are not the words of a serious national candidate who is seeking to be a leader on the global stage.

I love our country and am proud to be an American. But I also come from the Native American community which knows first-hand that the USA is not perfect. In our short history with the United States, we have endured forced assimilation, boarding schools, stolen land, kidnapped children, relocation and, for some tribes, genocide. Yet, there are still a great number of us who are willing to work through that dark history and strive to live proud and productive lives as citizens of this country. But we, and our communities, are still hurting. We crave reconciliation and are longing to restore this important relationship that has been broken by our country. And one would expect that at some point in the healing process, an apology would be given. Who better to deliver it than the democratically elected President of these United States?

So if the need to apologize for the USA can be found with the first people that this young country ever encountered, how can we expect to traverse the rest of our history, as well as the plethora of global relationships without encountering that need again?

Mitt Romney is a smart, well-educated man. He is campaigning to competent people. So I ask him and the rest of the 2012 Presidential candidates: Please do not insult our intelligence or your own, by making such arrogant and short-sighted statements like “I will never apologize for the United States of America.”

As I have observed and participated in the leadership process, I have concluded two things:

First, our world is run through relationships.

Second, everyone is human. We are all learning and to some extent just making it up as we go along. Crisis tends to be conveyed when leaders, media, or institutions portray themselves or others as “experts” and then act surprised or even shocked when they fail.

To err is human and the ability to give a sincere and well-timed apology is essential. Please do not let anyone lead you to believe otherwise.

Mark Charles (Navajo)

This article was also published on IndianZ.com on Dec. 19, 2011

Natural Disasters

2011-12-17T07:42:00.000-07:00

What exactly is a natural disaster?

The intersection of 'the average' and 'the extraordinary’.

I was thinking the other day about our society’s fascinationwith polls and numbers. We love to use numbers and averages to forecast andpredict things like public opinion and natural events. I think the problem withthis practice is that it conditions us to expect events and people to beaverage.

And I frequently see the results of this conditioning when Iobserve our society’s expectations and attitudes towards the weather.

Often, we expect, forecast and plan for averages. And then we act surprised or even shockedwhen conditions are extraordinary.

I think we forget that the Creator of our world is anythingbut average. He takes pride in the extraordinary, whether that be extraordinaryweather to display his power or extraordinary people to honor and glorify hisname.

In my experience, the longer I follow Jesus and the longer Ilive in his creation, the more conditioned I have become to expect theextraordinary.

It seems that nearly every week we hear about a powerfulweather related event occurring somewhere in our world. Hurricanes, earthquakes, tsunamis, tornadoes,torrential rains, heavy snow falls, drought and soaring or freezingtemperatures. This happens with suchfrequency that we even have adopted terms into our language to refer to suchevents: "Natural disasters","Acts of God" and "Mother Nature's fury" just to name afew.

Wikipedia defines a natural disaster as "the effect ofa natural hazard (e.g., flood, tornado, hurricane, volcanic eruption,earthquake, heat wave, or landslide). It leads to financial, environmental orhuman losses."

Since moving to the Navajo reservation over 7 years ago, Ihave had to learn to adapt to living in an environment where my daily scheduleand, at times, even my well being is affected by the weather (see my article, 'PavedRoads’, to read more of my reflections on this). This has challenged me to intentionally adopta more humble attitude regarding weather, which is to not complain about it. I understand that I live in the high desert,so I do not complain about the arid conditions. And because our land is perpetually dry, I intentionally try to bethankful for the moisture we receive, regardless of when it comes or what formit comes in.

One of the more recent weather related events that we haveheard about on a national level was the strong Santa Ana winds that blewthrough Southern California a few weeks ago. I went to college in Southern California and have many family andfriends who live there, so I tend to pay close attention to the news comingfrom that region. One of the biggestproblems reported from the recent Santa Ana winds was the number of large treesthat fell down, blocking roads, crushing houses and cars and knocking downpower lines.

I did some reading about these winds and came across thisquote in a story from the LA times:

"L.A. trees don't have deep roots. The urban forest isartificial and is primarily watered by lawn sprinklers," Patzert said."So what keeps our urban forest alive is people watering their lawns,which are not natural, so you don't have deep root systems. So our trees arevery vulnerable to Santa Ana events."

This same article also referred to these strong Santa Anawinds (in some places up to 100 MPH) as a once in a decade type of event.

I also saw and heard of several interviews with longtimeresidents of Southern California who stated that they had NEVER seen winds likethese in that region before. (Personally, I think it would be interesting to ask some of the NativeAmerican tribes indigenous to those lands about the frequency and history ofsuch winds, but that thought is for another blog post.) :-)

I was in the Netherlands when Hurricane Katrina hit the Southern coastof the United States back in the fall of 2005. A few days prior to that event my family and I were touring some of thedykes there: huge, massive structures holding back the sea and very impressiveto look at. I remember asking my friends, who lived in that country, how itfelt to reside in a place where, if nature just corrected itself and did whatit was supposed to do, a good portion of the country would be destroyed andunderwater? Not necessarily a questions one wants to think about regardingtheir 'home' on a regular basis.

But then it was eerie to watch that fear become realizedwhen Katrina hit the United States a couple days later.

I think that as our world grows more populous and ourunderstanding of science becomes more advanced, our efforts to control andmanipulate our environments in unnatural ways will become more pronounced.Whether that is the planting urban forests, farming in the desert, buildingcities where there is no water or constructing our civilizations beneath leveesand dykes built to hold back the seas. But I think over time these unnaturalmanipulations, no matter how well constructed, will be exposed as vulnerableand inferior to the strength and beauty of creation. And because of our fascination with 'theaverage,' their existence will be threatened, not just by cataclysmic weatherevents, but even by unusual or infrequent weather events.

So what am I saying?

To be honest, I'm not too sure.

Do we stop planting and watering tress in Los Angeles? Ofcourse not.

Do we move the entire population of municipalities such asPhoenix AZ, Las Vegas NV and New

Orleans LA to environments more conducive tohuman life? No, I don't think so.

I guess I just want us, as people, to take a more humbleattitude and not act so surprised or shocked when our 'average' environmentalmanipulations meet the Creator’s extraordinary weather.

I don't want us to be too quick to blame God or claim to bevictims of 'natural disasters' or 'Mother Nature’s fury' when technically theproblem is we are living in ways or in places that are not natural habitats forour existence. I'm not saying we don't call these events disasters, for whenthere is wide-spread human suffering, pain or loss of life that is a disaster.

I'm just saying that I want our society to be humble enoughto accept some of the blame and responsibility ourselves when this damage andloss occurs.

I want us to have a deep humility and understanding thatnature is NOT average, it is extraordinary.

(This article was originally published by the Calvin Institute of Christian Worship.)

Now that the NBA lockout is officially over: A petition to NBA Owners and Players to regain the support of their fans.

2011-12-09T10:01:00.001-07:00

As a fan of the game of basketball, I am glad that the NBA owners and players have finally come to an agreement over how to split the nearly 4 billion dollars of basketball related income that is generated by their league each year. It has disturbed me that at a time when much of the world is in severe economic crisis, millionaires and billionaires have had such a difficult time coming to an agreement over how to share the enormous amount of revenue that is generated from the playing of a game. I have heard voices and read stories expressing concern over the inconvenience and even pain that this disagreement has caused for the fans and the livelihood of the employees that support this league. I have also heard both sides express a thankfulness that the lockout is over and they can now get back to the business of playing basketball and regaining the trust of their fans. It is on that note that I would like to offer a suggestion as to how they can go about doing that.

I propose that for the first home game played by each NBA team, the owners and players pledge to donate all basketball related income and contracted salary. These funds will be pooled to be divided equally in 2 ways.

1. Provide a lump sum (bonus) payment to every hourly employee who lost their job, hours or income due to the lock-out.
2. Use the funds to evenly decrease the tickets price for all remaining regular season home games for each team.

I am thankful that the lock-out is over and I hope the NBA owners and players will remember what a privilege it is to be able to earn such a lucrative living from the sport they love. I also hope they remember that without their fans and the hourly employees supporting their league, none of this would be possible. And so I offer this simple suggestion as to how they best can go about saying "Thank You."

If you agree with my suggestion, I invite you to sign my petition at Change.org: A petition to NBA Owners and Players to regain the support of their fans.

Taking the 51st virtual Native American state conversation to Iowa, New Hampshire and the rest of the country.

2011-12-04T15:24:00.001-07:00

Ya'at'eeh. I hope to write a more polished announcement sometime in the next few days, but I wanted to get something published on my blog as soon as possible..

As you are probably aware, I have been doing some speaking and writing on an amendment to the US Constitution that I am proposing to create a 51st virtual Native American state. I feel that this is a very important dialogue for our country to have, not only to give disenfranchised Native American communities a stronger and more unified voice in national elections, but also to continue the process of reconciling and healing our country's broken relationships with the indigenous peoples of this land.

Over the next 12 months, throughout the Primary and Caucus season, the Conventions and then the General election our country will be engaging in numerous dialogues with our current and future leaders and we will be thinking about things such as voting districts and the electoral college. I think this environment will provide an excellent opportunity to engage a national dialogue on the 51st virtual Native American state proposal. My proposal speaks directly to the order of the primaries and caucuses, making this a very natural springboard. So I, and the small but extremely dedicated team of people who have been helping me, have decided to give as much energy, effort and resources as possible to initiate this conversation on a national level.

Beginning with the caucuses in Iowa on January 3 and the primary in New Hampshire on January 10, I am planning to travel to several key states throughout the primary season to hold lectures, town hall meetings and other public (and hopefully media) events to engage Native American communities, colleges and the general public with this proposal. If you are interested in supporting us in any way throughout this process, you can start by clicking LIKE on the 51st virtual Native American state Facebook page.

I have never attempted to engage in such a large and public conversation before and and sure I will make many, many mistakes along the way. But throughout this entire process I will covet your prayers, your encouragement and your support.

ahe'hee'. (Thank you)

Mark Charles

Language of Adoption

2011-11-14T05:45:00.004-07:00

"Shi'masoni." That is how I addressed her as I leaned over to place my necklace around her neck. "My maternal grandmother."

When I left home for the Christian Community Development Association National Conference (CCDA - an association of Christian community developers who share similar values for Relocation, Reconciliation and Redistribution), I was not expecting to gain a grandmother. But God had other plans, and I think that, just maybe, the church is a little more reconciled because of it.

A year ago, at the previous CCDA conference, I had been invited to be a part of a panel of young leaders for a plenary session. On this panel, I had an opportunity to share with the entire conference some of my thoughts and reflections on issues of reconciliation between the broader country and Native North American communities. I shared that being Native American and living in this country feels like our peoples are an old grandmother who owns a very large house. It is a beautiful house with plenty of rooms and comfortable furniture. But, years ago, some people came into our house and locked us upstairs in the bedroom. Today our house is full of people. They are sitting on our furniture. They are eating our food. They are having a party in our house. They have even unlocked the door to our bedroom. But now, it is much later, and we are tired, old, weak and sick; so we can't or don't come out. But the part that is the most hurtful is that almost no one from this party ever comes upstairs to find us in the bedroom, sits down next to us on the bed, looks us in the eye, and simply says, "Thank you. Thank you for letting us be in your house."

This year, in response to that sharing, CCDA founding member Wayne Gordon (Coach) explained that when he and his wife are invited into someone’s house, they frequently bring a gift to their host, and so he wanted to give gifts to Richard Twiss and me as unofficial representatives of our communities. Richard is Lakota/Sioux and I am Dine/Navajo. We both recently accepted invitations to join the CCDA Board of Directors, in part to help expand the association’s understanding of Native North American issues.

When I was told about Coach’s gift earlier in the day, I was honored by the idea but did not feel right accepting a gift without giving something in return. I had brought along a few CDs of one of our Navajo elders singing the scriptures in a contextualized and traditional way. I frequently give these CDs as gifts, but giving a CD alone, and in front of so many people did not feel like enough. Unfortunately, I did not have much else of significance along with me. I deeply appreciate the relationships I am building within the CCDA and wanted to give a gift that reflected the value I hold for those relationships.

The only other possible gift I could think of was my turquoise necklace. Navajo people are known throughout the world for our turquoise and silver jewelry, and a few years ago I had received a beautiful turquoise necklace from one of my relatives. I am very proud of this necklace and regularly wear it as a part of my regalia. Giving it away would be significant and it would deepen the meaning of this exchange for me. But the idea of giving away something so valuable and personal to me took a little getting used to. But the more I thought about it, the better I felt about it.

Giving the necklace as a gift felt good and appropriate, but something was still missing.

Amasoni (Grandmother)

Navajo culture is matrilineal. Our identities come from our mother's mother. It is the maternal grandmother who owns the property and makes the decisions for the family. The sheep belong to her. The hogan belongs to her. If you want to have a feast, you need her permission. One of the most enduring images I have in my mind is that of a very elderly grandmother walking out to the corral during butchering time. She moves slowly and even somewhat unevenly in her old age, but she also carries a huge knife. When she arrives she kneels down next to the sheep that her children and grandchildren have roped and tied up. And then quickly, expertly and forcefully she cuts the neck of the sheep and the preparations for the feast began.

Because of the role of the Grandmother in Navajo culture, whenever I want to honor a family or intentionally build new relationships within a community, I always try to get to know the grandmothers.

Vera Mae Perkins is the wife of the legendary John Perkins. John is a nationally known civil rights leader, Christian teacher and author. He is one of the founders of the CCDA and is well known and loved by its many members. Vera Mae is also loved and honored, but not such an upfront and public figure. She is John's loving and supportive partner who, a few years ago, suffered a stroke. She has since lost much of her mobility as well as her eye sight. But every year she still attends the CCDA conference and, in her wheel chair, sits in the front row at the plenary sessions.

I now knew to whom I would give my necklace. It would have to go to Vera Mae. She was the Grandmother in the room. And giving it to her would express the deep gratitude I felt towards the relationships I was building in the CCDA.

But just giving the necklace to a Grandmother still did not feel like enough.

Shi'masoni (My Grandmother)

Last winter I attended a conference in New Zealand that was hosted by the Maori, the indigenous people of that island. Throughout this conference, we were literally welcomed like family as they shared their culture, language, music, traditions and food with us. They even used the language of family, often referring to us as brother, sister, auntie, uncle, etc. It was an incredible experience.

Towards the end of the two-week conference, I had an opportunity to publically express my gratitude to the Maori people for their hospitality. I shared with them my analogy of the Grandmother in the house and confessed that I did not know how the grandmother was supposed to respond but after experiencing their unconditional and open armed welcome, I now knew. The grandmother needed to respond with language of adoption when the guests in her house came upstairs to thank her.

By using language of adoption the grandmother would be able to establish her role as the host of the house, but also communicate that her guests were welcome and accepted. A relationship with boundaries, protocol and defined roles could be started.

Adoption

When Coach invited Richard and me up front during the evening plenary session, I was deeply moved that he wanted to publically recognize us as his hosts and I gratefully received his gift. The conference also seemed to appreciate the significance of his gesture and applauded their approval. Richard and I each then returned the favor and presented some gifts to Coach and the CCDA. Again, it was a significant moment and people applauded their approval.

But God was not finished.

He had been prompting my heart all afternoon, so I kept the microphone and told people that I had another gift that I wanted to give. I went on to explain about the matrilineal aspects of Navajo culture and about the importance of our grandmothers as well as the significance of my necklace. I then told them that I wanted to honor Vera Mae as grandmother and give my necklace to her. So I removed it from my neck, walked off the stage and found her sitting in the first row. I hung the necklace around her neck, gave her a big hug and called her "shi'masoni." "My maternal grandmother."

I do not know how everyone responded because I was fully in the moment, appreciating my time with Vera Mae. But for the remainder of the conference I was approached by people expressing a deep gratitude for what had taken place. And I even heard various reports of the tears that flowed freely over the beauty of the event.

I was not trying to steal the spotlight from Coach. Nor was I attempting to overshadow his gift. Instead, I was using his humility and generosity to step into the role that his gift was acknowledging in me, the role of the host.

Over the years, many key people within the CCDA had reached out to me. John Liotti shared a cup of coffee with me in the Bay Area. Dave Clark met me in the Chicago airport to introduce himself and get to know me. Noel Castellanos traveled to the Southwest and spent some time with me and my family in our house on the Navajo Reservation. And John Perkins shared his breakfast table with me at a hotel in St. Louis. From day one, I had been intentionally invited into the circle of relationships known as the CCDA. And now, on this night, I was publicly thanked and acknowledged as one of the host people of this land.

I was being given the opportunity to define my role within this association, and for me, culturally, that had to go through Vera Mae. She could not just be known to me as John Perkins's wife. Nor was it enough just to acknowledge her as a grandmother. She had to become my grandmother. And so I used the language of adoption. As I leaned over and hung my necklace around her neck, I called her shi'masoni', my maternal grandmother.

And now that protocol has been followed and our roles are better defined, I feel excited to continue this journey of reconciliation.

(This article was originally published on my page at the Calvin Institute of Christian Worship.)

Lessons from a Donkey

2011-06-09T13:41:00.003-06:00

Noise. It surrounds us every day: car horns honking, sirens wailing, people talking, children crying, dogs barking, phones ringing, televisions blaring, donkeys braying, and the list goes on and on. Even when things seem to quiet down, after a few minutes our ears become attuned to the hum of electricity, the dull sound of traffic in the distance, the buzz of an airplane flying overhead, the elevator music playing in the background or even the constant ticking of a clock.

And then there is the silent noise that bombards us on a daily basis. Our eyes are strangely drawn to the billboards we pass on the city streets. We cannot help but read the sensational tabloid headlines stacked by the grocery store checkout lines. And then of course there are the text messages, Twitter feeds and Facebook posts that constantly stream through our phones and computers and into our lives. Everywhere we turn someone or something is blaring noise and demanding our attention.

Since moving to the Navajo Reservation nearly seven years ago my mind has been filled with many thoughts and my heart has been burdened with many questions: What does it look like to be racially reconciled within the United States of America? What does it mean for the Christian Church to be multi-ethnic and diverse when the underlying value for our country is assimilation? How can we raise up and empower Native American leaders for business, government and churches when the road to college degrees and ordination requires students to leave the reservation and assimilate to the Western culture, language and educational system? What can it look like for the indigenous hosts of this land to take their place in national debates on issues like Immigration Reform? How can the Native American community have a voice in the Electoral College?

I do not want to claim to be an authority on any of these questions. But I also want to acknowledge that I have spent much time praying, reflecting, struggling and conversing over each of them, as well as many others that I did not mention, and I would like very much to join the conversation where it is present and initiate dialogue where there is none.

But how is one heard? How does someone with a message rise above the noise to captivate the public’s attention and solicit their response? What does it look like to engage our churches, denominations and even our government in this type of public discourse?

There are many examples that I could follow that many people, organizations and institutions have employed in an effort to rise above the noise and be heard. I could seek out controversial stories, graphic images or misleading headlines like so many talk shows and news agencies do. Or I could use images of sex and violence, promises of wealth or guarantees of happiness like so many advertisers do. Or I could try and make my message ever present by injecting it into every possible context. Like a television or radio playing quietly in the background -- always on, yet never obtrusive -- my message would take on the subtle visibility of a well executed product campaign.

Each of these methods has been used very effectively, but, in the end, they are all adding to the same problem that each is trying rise above. I would also add that the goal of most of these methods is not to cause us to think, reflect or even converse. Instead the goal is to get us to react, jump to a conclusion, or even more simplistically, make a purchase.

In the mornings my daughter and I wake up early and walk to the top of a hill near us in order to watch the sun rise. As we walk up the hill we talk together but in the background we can often hear birds singing, dogs barking and occasionally cars passing by. But the most distinct and yet infrequent noise that we hear is that of a donkey braying. We don’t hear it every day, or even every week. It is infrequent and unpredictable, yet surprisingly consistent. But every morning we listen for it and each time we hear it my daughter exclaims, “Daddy! I hear my favorite donkey!!!”

If you have ever heard a donkey’s bray you know that it can be an extremely loud sound that quickly becomes annoying. It usually goes on for several seconds and sounds about as pleasant as an untrained performer with laryngitis who is attempting to sing opera. Yet as my daughter and I watch the sunrise we pray and frequently her prayer includes the words, “...and Jesus I thank you that I can hear my favorite donkey.”

My daughter knows this donkey. She listens for his bray, and she is filled with joy every time she hears it. Now if we owned a herd of donkeys and every morning they sounded as loudly as this one donkey, then I do not think my daughter would receive his braying with such glee. Rather she might pray that Jesus would shut those donkeys up so she could get some sleep. But the infrequent and yet consistent braying of this single donkey is welcomed by our entire family, and every time we hear it we listen and even celebrate.

For some time now, I have been considering how I can engage a larger audience with the topics that I listed above and which the Creator has placed on my heart. Several years ago I started a blog, but my posts were extremely infrequent and resembled a collection of published articles more than a blog. I was not engaging in a conversation as much as I was publishing my finished thoughts. So then a few years ago I opened a Facebook account, and I probably update my status between 2 and 5 times a day! I frequently have people comment on or ‘LIKE’ my status updates, but I assume that there are just as many of my ‘friends’ who have hidden, or at least learned to tune out my constant blabber about Starbucks coffee, Chipotle burritos, sunrises and even my own children.

Neither of those attempts to communicate more broadly has come close to satisfying my desire to engage my community, our churches, the country and our leaders in a constructive dialogue. So I am going to try once again. But this time I think I will pay attention to some of the lessons that can be learned from this donkey that my daughter loves so much.

First, I want to have a distinct, clear and recognizable voice. As far as I can tell, there is only one donkey residing on our hill while there are many dogs, cows, cats and birds. One reason the braying is so welcomed is because it is different and not easily mistaken for the sounds from the other animals that we hear all of the time.

Second, I want to have a short and understandable message. The donkey does not make a beautiful sound and if it were to go on for longer than a few seconds it would very quickly become irritating. But I have learned to trust that the brays will be short and therefore welcome them as I am reminded that our hill is larger and more diverse than what I see on a daily basis.

Third, when I do speak (or write) I want to be loud enough to be heard, even from a distance. My daughter rarely sees this donkey that she loves so much. The primary reason she know he exists is because his bray breaks through the serene silence that typically accompanies the sunrises that we watch. Because he is far off, he is not as loud as the cars that occasionally drive in front of us or the dogs that sometimes bark at us, and we do need to cease our talking in order to hear him. But when we do, his voice is easily heard.

It is my hope, that if I do these three things well, then I will not need to entice people to listen by exploiting controversial topics, flashing violent images or making empty promises. Instead I want keep the conversation going and my audience interested, engaged and hungry for more by the infrequent, yet surprisingly consistent, sound of my voice. I aspire to be like this donkey, who, at least for my daughter, has redefined the loud, annoying and obnoxious noise of his bray into a sweet, familiar and cherished sound.

(A version of this blog post was also published by the Calvin Institute of Christian Worship.)

Immigration Reform: Perspectives from Native America

2011-05-11T12:29:00.000-06:00

One of the buzz phrases I have heard in many social justice circles regarding the issue of immigration reform is “Comprehensive and Just Immigration Reform”. But I have taken a slight twist on that idea and have used it to advocate for our Native American communities by pointing out that “immigration reform will be neither comprehensive nor just unless it includes the voices and perspectives of the Native American peoples.

Right now I am not even advocating for any specific policy or stance. Instead I am merely observing that the voices of Native American are largely absent from this conversation. And so I am trying to speak to 2 separate audiences.

To our Native American communities I want to communicate that this is an important and historic dialogue for our country and our land and that we, as indigenous peoples, can offer a unique and invaluable perspective. We are the original inhabitants of this land and for the first time in centuries we have an opportunity to shape the dialogue regarding who should and should not be allowed to be here. So I want to encourage our people to step up and take our place in this conversation.

And to non-Native communities I am trying to point out the irony of trying to reform a policy on immigration without the indigenous inhabitants of the land participating in the conversation. I have witnessed and am convicted that merely our presence at the table where immigration reform is being discussed fundamentally effects and alters the conversation. This is because our Native American community is a visual reminder of our country’s unjust history regarding immigration policy, and that is even before we begin speaking and offering our distinct perspectives on the land and our relationship to it. And so I want our country and our leaders to pause, and notice that the Native American community is not actively a part of this conversation and then to intentionally invite us to the table.

I do not believe that either community can resolve this issue alone. And even together we are not going to get it perfect. But both voices are necessary if we want this reform to be more comprehensive and more just than our current policy is now.

Facebook:
I am trying to create some meaningful space where our Native American communities can begin to hone and articulate our thoughts and opinions on immigration reform so I started a Facebook Page regarding this topic.

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Immigration-Reform-Perspectives-from-Native-America/144752315596394

Gallup Herald:
Here is an article by the Gallup Herald, a local weekly news publication. They interviewed me and published an article regarding a Native American Perspective on Immigration Reform.
http://www.facebook.com/notes/gallup-herald/charles-seeks-inclusion-of-indigenous-perspectives-in-talks-on-immigration-refor/150313651677727

CRCNA:
This was one of the first events I spoke at where I advocated for the inclusion of the Native American community in the national dialogue on Immigration Reform.
http://www.crcna.org/news.cfm?newsid=1940&section=1

Guests in a foreign land

2011-01-25T09:16:00.003-07:00

Ya'at'eeh. Last week I had the privilege of attending the World Christian Gathering on Indigenous Peoples. This conference is held every 2-3 years in the land of the indigenous tribe or group that is hosting the gathering. This year we were in New Zealand as the guests of the Maori people. On Sunday, the first day of the conference, we gathered on a Marae, a traditional political and communal gathering and meeting place, and were officially welcomed by the king of the Maori. Our entire conference had a respectful procession into the outdoor court where the king was seated. After we were all in place, some of the Maori women greeted us with a song and then one of the Maori elders stood up and gave a speech welcoming us and honoring God, as well as the Maori elders, families and generations that had come before. Then another song was sung. Next, one of our leaders stood up and gave a speech thanking the Maori for receiving us and bringing greetings from our peoples and our lands. That speech was also followed by one of the songs of the tribes represented in our conference. Then another Maori leader stood up and gave another speech followed by another song. This volley of speeches and songs continued for a couple of hours and eventually concluded with our group laying out a gift for the king and his people. After our gift was accepted we lined up and were personally greeted and welcomed by the king and other Maori leaders and elders and then were ushered into a large hall and served a wonderful meal.

At each of the previous gatherings that I have attended, the WCGIP has followed a similar protocol with the leaders and elders of those lands (Hawaii, Sweden and Israel). This year I not only had the opportunity to observe and be welcomed through this process, but I also had the privilege to participate and give one of the speeches to the Maori king and his people.

This event did not include a time of worship and it all took place even before we had registered for the conference and had properly greeted each other. But the more I experience and reflect on this type of protocol, the more I understand how this is a part and even some of the foundation of our worship.

This protocol is a very clear reminder to me of who I am in these foreign lands. A guest. And having that mentality with the people of the lands where I have come to worship, is a wonderful reminder of who I am before our creator. His creation.

(This article was first published by the Calvin Institute of Christian Worship)

Bring the Presidential hopefuls to Indian Country

2010-11-29T10:42:00.000-07:00

This week I am traveling to Washington, D.C., from my home on the Navajo Reservation. I am scheduled to give a lecture and Q & A at Georgetown University at 8 PM on Wednesday, December 1, 2010. This lecture is regarding a proposal I wrote nearly two years ago to create a 51st virtual Native American state.

Since that article was first published on Indianz.com back in 2009, I have received several interview requests and been given numerous opportunities to speak on it by several organizations including the University of New Mexico, Brigham Young University, the Christian Reformed Church of North America and the Christian Community Development Association among others.

But this is the first time I will have an opportunity to bring this conversation to the city at the center of political power for our country.

The mid-term elections are over and hopeful presidential candidates are slowly beginning to practically plan out their campaigns for the highest office in our land. It is to these candidates that I would like to engage next in this dialogue. The 51st virtual Native American state proposal is about giving a voice (as well as respect) to the Native American tribes, communities and peoples that are scattered throughout this land.

I would like to make a simple request of our presidential candidates. Before they begin campaigning in the states of New Hampshire and Iowa, I would like to invite them to first take their message directly to the tribes and peoples who were here long before this country was ever founded.

I am not asking them to do this for me. I am not asking them to do this because it is flashy, romantic or even lucrative. I am asking them to do this for all Native American peoples and for our elders and because it is the right thing to do. I have sought for years to find a way to effectively communicate what it feels like to be Native American and live in a country that, by and large, does not even know you exist.

Traditional Navajo culture is matriarchal and our identity comes from our grandmother. She is the head of the household and most everything belongs to her. It is her hogan (house), her sheep and her family.

Because of this, I have often told people that being Native American and living in this country feels like I am an old grandmother who has a very large and beautiful house. My house has many rooms and is filled with finely crafted furniture. Years ago, some people came into my house and locked me upstairs in a bedroom. Today, my house is full of people. They are all throughout my house, eating my food, sitting on my furniture and thoroughly enjoying and making themselves at home. The door to my bedroom has since been unlocked, and I am able to come out of the room.

But much time has passed, and I am now very old, tired, weak and sick. Yet the thing that hurts me the most is that no one has ever come upstairs to find me in my room, pulled up a chair next to my bed, looked me in the eye and simply said, "Thank you. Thank you for allowing me to be in your house." In fact, I think most people don’t even know whose house they are at in the first place.

In the next two years leading up to the presidential election of 2012, there will be much talk about power. Candidates will be seeking the upper hand and vying for money, media coverage and recognition to fuel their campaigns and propel them into office.

However, I am not concerned with power. Instead, I would like to focus the conversations of this next presidential election on authority.

Power is the ability to act. Authority is the right of jurisdiction. Power is demonstrated and can be won. Authority is exercised and must be earned. Power is feared. Authority is respected.

So, before another President is elected and sworn into the most powerful office in this land, I first would like those campaigning for that office to demonstrate that they understand authority and respect the history of this land. I would like them all to walk upstairs and find the grandmother in her room. I would like them to sit down next to her bed and thank her for allowing them to live in her house. And then I would like them to share with her their vision for leading her guests and seek her input on how to best care for her home.

As I said, this week I will be in Washington, D.C., the city known as the 'seat of power' for this country. It is my hope that I can engage with our current, as well as future, leaders and convince them that while it is tempting to become infatuated with power and easy to be attracted by promises of quick solutions and instant fame, it is better to patiently build your integrity, study your history and sit at the feet of your elders so that eventually you can be entrusted with authority.

Ya'at'eeh and welcome to my blog.

2010-09-13T08:45:00.001-06:00

Upcoming speaking engagements:

Title: 51st virtual Native American state
Date: Wednesday, December 1
Time: TBA
Location: Georgetown University (Washington DC)
Room: TBA

Ya'at'eeh:

My name is Mark Charles and and I do not lead an organization nor do I work solely for a specific group, ministry or church. I am merely the son of an American woman (of Dutch heritage) and a Navajo man, who is living on our Navajo Reservation and trying to understand the complexities of our countries history regarding race, culture and faith so that I can help forge a path of healing and reconciliation for our people.

51st virtual Native American state:
Proposal - This is the article that started this entire discussion.
Second Steps - This is a good idea but...
Facebook Group - 51st virtual Native American state
Additional Articles:

Immigration Reform:
1. Comprehensive and Just Immigration Reform: Perspectives from Native America
2. Facebook Group: Immigration Reform: Perspectives from Native America

Racial Reconciliation and life on the Navajo Reservation:
Uuh' - An indigenous response to global crisis like the recent earthquake in Haiti
Ya'at'eeh - Racial Reconciliation
When I grow up I want to be a shepherd - Life on the Reservation
Paved Roads - Listening to the Creator

Several of my articles have also been published by the Calvin Institute for Christian Worship

More Articles on Wirelesshogan:
Virtual Native American State
This is a good idea but...
Ya'at'eeh
When I grow up I want to be a shepherd
Paved Roads
Just as it should be
Uuh'

If you are interested in contacting me directly to schedule a public forum/lecture on any of these topics, request an interview or even just share your thoughts, please use my email address:
mcharles@wirelesshogan.com

virtual Native American state

2010-04-21T06:00:00.003-06:00

The right to vote and have representation is a fundamental American right and in the early history of our country that right was based on land ownership. At one point, Native Americans resided on a majority of the land and accounted for a majority of the population. But that began to change soon after the first European immigrants arrived. Native Americans were quickly either exterminated or moved to the boarders of society and marginalized. And that is where most of us live today. You will find pockets of Native Americans all throughout the country. And if you look hard enough you will find reservations tucked away in the corners of many states. We account for around 1% of the population and are virtually non existent in the structures of power. We have been a ward of Congress and do not even have an embassy or a formal relationship with the US government. For years we were drafted and forced to fight in the wars of this country, but we did not even have the right to vote. Even after we were given the right to vote, our numbers were so small and we were so marginalized and separated that no unified voice could be heard. Reservations had been created but representation was not allowed.

I would like to propose that a new action be taken; one which I believe will level the playing field to an even greater extent. I propose that a virtual Native American state be created. This virtual state will function primarily as a means to give Native Americans a voice in the national structures of power that currently exist. Each member of every federally recognized tribe will, for national elections and for the US Congress and Senate, vote and be represented as a virtual Native American state. Based on the population, 2-5 votes will be added to the Electoral College, 2-5 members will be added to the US House of Representatives and 2 members will be added to the Senate. Also a 51st star and a 14th stripe should be added to the flag. I believe these institutional and constitutional corrections will allow the Native American population an equal voice within the structures of power and in the representation of our lands. No longer will Congress or the President be able to quietly cut funding from health care and social services, which were guaranteed in the treaties that were signed. No longer will Native American issues (many of which are unique from the rest of the country) be ignored by Presidential candidates. And no longer will Native Americans be forced to be a ward of congress and at the mercy of the state governments and the BIA. For we will be a part of the senate and the House of Representatives, and will have our own voice in the legislative agenda of this country and in the representation of our lands and our people.

Mark Charles
(Fort Defiance AZ)

Upcoming speaking engagements:

Title: 51st virtual Native American state
Date: Wednesday, December 1
Time: TBA
Location: Georgetown University (Washington DC)
Room: TBA

AZCentral - Channel 12 News - This articles was covered in a story by KPNX Channel 12 in Phoenix AZ on Jan 16, 2009

Indianz.com - I submitted the article to Indianz on Jan. 6, 2009

Native America Calling - I discussed this article on the radio call in show 'Native America Calling' on Wednesday Jan. 14, 2009. The archived recording of this program is available on their website - click HERE to go directly to the streaming audio file.

A virtual Native American state (v2)

2010-04-21T05:54:00.000-06:00

This is a good idea, but…

…it will never happen.” My article on the creation of a virtual Native American State has been out in the public realm for a few months now, and I have been doing my best to follow the conversations and dialogues that have sprouted up, not only on my blog, but on other blogs, talk shows and articles around the country. If I had to summarize the responses, I would say that the majority of voices ring with a very similar sentiment. "This is a good idea, but…” Of course, there have also been other voices. Some have decried the idea, saying they have no desire to become a larger part of this country and its oppressive government. Others have pointed at this as another way to rob our peoples of the identity and sovereignty we have been fighting for. And still others have snidely commented that this proposal would put an end to the gravy train of free handouts that our Native American tribes receive from Uncle Sam. But a vast majority of the voices I have heard have stated in one form or another that “this is a good idea, but…"

First, please allow me to address the issue of tribal sovereignty. I do not see the virtual Native American state in any way damaging the struggle for recognition or sovereignty that most of our tribes are currently engaged in. Instead, I see this state as a tool that can begin to consolidate our voices in areas where our needs, issues and struggles align. I also do not see the granting of this statehood in any way releasing the US government from the treaty obligations that currently exist, as our original lands are not being returned to us, nor are we engaging in any sort of armed conflict against the US. The creation of this state will not release the US government from the injustices of the past; instead it will give our tribes a stronger voice with which to negotiate the terms for our future.

During every election cycle we hear about presidential candidates courting the votes of various communities. There is talk about the African American vote, the Hispanic vote, and so on and so forth. But I cannot recall ever hearing a candidate setting out to win the Native American vote. Why? Because our voice has become irrelevant. Our peoples have been so marginalized and pushed to the borders of society, that we essentially no longer have a voice. If all tribes could vote together, we would create a block of voters, some 3 million strong, which could NO LONGER be ignored by presidential candidates.

On June 17, 1960, an amendment was proposed in congress to grant the District of Columbia the right to choose their own electors for the election of the office of President and Vice-President. This amendment was ratified as the 23rd Amendment on March 29, 1961. In 1964, the District of Columbia participated for the first time in the Presidential election with its own voice. I think that a similar amendment to grant Native American peoples to right to collectively choose our own electors in Presidential elections would be an incredible step to begin paving the way for the creation of a virtual Native American state. I am not naive enough to believe that this state will be created quickly, or without significant opposition. And that is actually fine with me. To tackle a change of this magnitude to our country's political landscape, structure and status quo is a huge undertaking. It is not a battle that I would shy away from, but it is a battle that I would like to engage in stages, as the issue is discussed and negotiated thoroughly. But I also do not want to wait for years or even decades for some amount of change to begin to happen. So I think that an amendment, similar to the 23rd amendment, for our Native American peoples would be a great first step.

The citizens of Washington DC fall into an ambiguous crevice when it comes to representation in this country. They are full US citizens but do not belong to a state. Instead they fall under the direct authority of the US Congress. Yet they have their own local government with a mayor and a city council. This crevice that they occupy sounds very similar to the ambiguous state of existence that most Native American tribes and peoples fall into. We are told that we are sovereign nations, yet we do not have formal embassies or relationships with the US government as other nations have. We have been 'granted' lands (reservations) throughout this country and have our own local tribal governments, but we are also citizens of the states where these lands exist.

As separate Native American peoples we probably have more interests, needs and concerns in common with one another than we do with the non-Native residents of the very states in which we all reside. But just as the citizens of the District of Columbia are ultimately governed by congressional representatives who are foreign to their city and their issues, so we must rely on senators and representatives who are not from our lands or our people and who are not first and foremost concerned with our unique indigenous issues.

The next steps will come. I am not sure how to deal with all of the complexities that arise from the creation of a new state. And I trust that the Creator will both grant and bring wisdom into the discussion as it progresses. But for the moment, I would like to focus on this first step. Let us create a voice for our Native American peoples by allowing us to choose our own electors as we vote for the office of the President and the Vice-President.

I propose that an amendment to the Unites States Constitution be formally introduced that will grant Native Americans, who are registered members of tribes, to collectively choose our own electors for the election of the United States President and Vice-President.

This will be a huge step forward as these candidates will now be forced to campaign to Native American issues and to court our votes.

Tomorrow will be another day and it will bring another step. But let us start by creating a voice.

Mark Charles
Fort Defiance, AZ

Paved Roads

2010-04-17T08:44:00.000-06:00

An article in the news today "Volcano spews more ash, spawns wider flight chaos" has reminded me of the lessons God began teaching me while living a more traditional way of life here on the Navajo Reservation. I wrote this article several years ago, soon after we moved here from Denver CO.

“Be still and know that I am God”

That is the exhortation we hear from God in Psalms 46:10. But how possible is this in our modern technological world? What does it mean to be still before God? I used to think I understood this but after living for 3 years on the Navajo reservation in a traditional hogan with no electricity or running water, no television, no hot showers or washing machines; no microwaves or refrigerators, no public transportation or paved roads leading up to my house, I found there is a level of stillness that I never knew existed.

In Genesis chapter 11 we read the story of the tower of Babel. The inhabitants of the earth were increasing and they decided to build a tower in order to make a name for themselves, lest they be scattered abroad upon the face of the earth. The people wanted to trust in themselves and place their confidence in their own efforts and technology. And even what they built made sense. If you are few in numbers and the environment is harsh, it makes perfect sense to build a city and erect a tower. The city walls will provide security within and the tower will allow those traveling outside the walls to be able to go a greater distance and still see the way home.

But God wanted the people to trust in him and so he came down and confused their language and scattered them abroad over the face of all the earth. This passage is a good reminder for us to keep our trust in God and not rely upon the works of our own hands. And that is an easy thing to do; as long as our hands are producing something. It is easy to trust in God for our daily bread when we have a good job and receive a regular paycheck. It is easy to trust God for our future when we have a retirement fund and a savings account. It is easy to trust in God for our health, when we have excellent insurance and live near a good hospital.

Our towers of Babel have been there for so long and have become such a part of our landscape that we do not even realize that we trust in them anymore. Every day we wake up, see the tower and know where we are. We feel at peace because the tower is there. That is, until the tower is gone. How do our hearts feel when the paycheck is no longer available? What is our response when we are laid off and our health insurance policy is declined or Social Security in on the verge of going bankrupt? Panic sets in. Our hearts cry out, “We need these things. That is how God provides for us.” We have become so accustomed to our towers of Babel that we no longer see them as ‘our towers’; we see them as gifts from God. And when they are gone we feel as if God has left us!

“God where are you? We cannot see the tower you gave us!” We scream as we run to where the tower used to be. “God, please help us to rebuild this tower. We need it! Please God! Where are you? Where is the beautiful tower you gave us?”

But God is silent.

Bills come due, sickness sets in, and our credit ratings take a hit.

And still God is silent

“God!” we scream, “where is the tower? We cannot see it. We are lost. Please help us!”

Finally, we fall silent. The screaming is over. We are hungry, cold and sick. The towers are gone, God is silent, and we feel as if there is nothing left. But then we remember the words of the Psalmist. “Be still and know that I am God.”

God is the God of creation. He created the mountains, oceans and deserts. The animals, fish and birds of the air are the work of His hands. Every morning He paints the sunrise and every sunset is His masterpiece. Rain, snow, earthquakes and volcanoes are the signs of his power, blessing and judgment. God is the God of creation.

We are the people of the towers. Skyscrapers and cities, airports and harbors, insurance policies and saving accounts; all of these are the fruits of our labors. We have erected them to create a name for ourselves. And when we see them we feel safe and secure.

But God speaks through his creation. He called Moses in a burning bush. Every rainbow is a sign of God’s promise to never again destroy the earth in a flood. Often when we read of, or see God’s judgment, He is using His creation to destroy our towers. And yet, in our foolishness we continue to challenge Him and build bigger and better towers. We build skyscrapers high into the sky and put the foundations on springs or rollers to protect against earthquakes. We build our beautiful homes on the edge of cliffs so that we may have a view others will covet. We send people to the moon and place our flag there, as if to claim some sort of ownership. We offer ‘Lifetime warranties’ on our products and sell insurance policies to cover everything imaginable. “God will not win,” we say, “we will prevail.”

I did not realize how much this mentality permeated my thinking until we moved to our hogan that is located on a dirt road, six miles off the nearest paved road. The dirt road is pure clay and when it gets wet from rain or snow it is practically impassable. In fact, I have gotten stuck on this road numerous times as I traveled home in the rain. Once I was able to walk home, but another time my family and I had to spend the night in the car. So I have quickly learned that when it rains we do not go out.

One Friday as my wife and I were getting ready for bed, I checked the weather. It had been a beautiful sunny day, so I was surprised to see the forecast calling for 3 days of rain and snow beginning that very night. We had planned to go grocery shopping the next day as we were nearly out of food and water, but when we saw the forecast we decided that I should drive the 25 miles into Window Rock immediately in order to pick up what we needed in case we were stuck at the hogan in the snow for the next 3 days. So I did.

The next morning the sky was cloudy but no rain or snow fell. After a couple of hours of debating we decided to head back into Window Rock to run a few more errands. We took our 4x4 truck just in case the rains came. They never came. The next day was exactly the same. It was cloudy in the morning and we debated back and forth on whether or not to drive the 60 miles to church. We finally decided to try it, again taking our 4x4 truck so we would have a better chance of making it back home should the rains come.

On our way to church, as we were driving the final 4 miles up a winding road back in the hills deep in the heart of the reservation, I noticed it had been raining quite hard. There were pools of water all over the ground and some small streams still ran alongside the road. But I also noticed I was not afraid. In fact I felt no tension at all, for the road was paved. “If this were the road near our hogan” I said to myself, “I would be very worried, for we could get stuck at any moment and have to walk several miles back home.”

When it rains at our hogan we literally cannot go anywhere, so we sit. We read books, we pray, we spend time as a family. We are still and in that stillness we remember God. When it rains at our hogan we can hear God inviting us, saying, “Stay here. Don’t go anywhere. Be still and know that I am God.” But if our road were paved we probably would not hear God’s voice in this way, for the weather would have very little impact on our lives. Even during the rain and snow we could still get in our truck and do what we needed. We could go where we wanted and do as we pleased. We would feel safe and secure thinking God was with us, because look, He has blessed us, the road is paved. Our tower is strong. We can go about our business.

We would never realize that with the pitter patter of the falling rain God was faintly whispering, “Wait, don’t go! Be still and know that I am God.”

First Steps to a virtual Native American state

2010-03-18T15:44:00.001-06:00

My article proposing the creation of a virtual Native American State has been out in the public arena for over a year now, and I have been doing my best to follow the conversations and dialogues that have sprouted up, not only on my blog, but also on other blogs, radio talk show and articles from around the country. If I had to summarize the responses, I would say that the majority of voices ring with a very similar sentiment. "This is a good idea, but…” Of course, there have also been other voices. Some have decried the idea, saying they have no desire to become a larger part of this country and its oppressive government. Others have pointed at this as another way to rob our peoples of the identity and sovereignty we have been fighting for. And still others have snidely commented that this proposal would put an end to the gravy train of free handouts that Native American tribes receive from Uncle Sam. But a vast majority of the voices I have heard have stated in one form or another that “this is a good idea, but where do you start".

First, please allow me to address the issue of tribal sovereignty. I do not see the virtual Native American state in any way damaging the struggle for recognition or sovereignty that most of our tribes are currently engaged in. Instead, I see this state as a tool that can begin to consolidate our voices in areas where our needs, issues and struggles align. I also do not see the creation of this state in any way releasing the US government from the treaty obligations that currently exist. This is because our original lands are not being returned to us, nor are we engaging in any sort of armed conflict against the United States. The creation of this state will not release the US government from the injustices of the past; instead it will give our tribes a stronger voice with which to negotiate the terms for our future.

Second, I would like to take a closer look at the history of the District of Columbia as I think it will set some precedent for what I am talking about.

The citizens of Washington DC fall into an ambiguous crevice when it comes to representation in this country. They are full US citizens but do not reside in a formal state. Instead they fall under the direct authority of the US Congress. Yet they have their own local government with a mayor and a city council.

The crevice that they occupy is very similar to the ambiguous state of existence that most Native American tribes and peoples fall into. We are told that we are sovereign nations, yet we do not have formal embassies or relationships with the US government as other nations have. We have been 'granted' lands (reservations) throughout this country and have our own local tribal governments, but we are also governed by the states which these lands occupy.

On June 17, 1960, an amendment was proposed in congress to grant the District of Columbia the right to choose their own electors for the election of the office of President and Vice-President. This amendment was ratified as the 23rd Amendment on March 29, 1961. In 1964, the District of Columbia participated for the first time in the Presidential election with its own voice.

I think that the first logical step in creating this virtual Native American state will be to pass an amendment to the US Constitution that will grant Native American peoples to right to collectively choose our own electors in Presidential elections.

I am not naive enough to believe that this state will be created quickly, or without significant opposition. And that is fine with me. To tackle a change of this magnitude to our country's political landscape, structure and status quo is a huge undertaking. While this is not a battle that I shy away from, it is a battle that I would like to engage in stages as the public is educated and issues are discussed and negotiated thoroughly. But I also do not want to wait for years or even decades for some amount of change to begin to happen.

So I think this amendment would be a good first step.

The next steps will come. I am not sure how to deal with all of the complexities that arise from the creation of a new state. And I trust that the Creator will both grant and bring wisdom into the discussion as it progresses. But for the moment, I would like to focus on this first step. Let us create a voice for our Native American peoples by allowing us to choose our own electors as we vote for the office of the President and the Vice-President.

This amendment will be a huge step forward as candidates for these offices will now be forced to campaign to Native American issues and to court our votes.

Tomorrow will be another day and it will bring another step. But let us start by creating a voice.

Mark Charles
Fort Defiance, AZ

Uuh' - An indigenous response to the earthquake in Haiti

2010-02-18T13:28:00.005-07:00

Uuh’

It didn't happen every day, but was frequent enough that I clearly remember it. I would be sitting with my grandparents, in their house, around their kitchen table. We would be finishing a meal or even just a simple snack, and the conversation would come to a lull….

"Uuh' ," my grandfather would look at me and say.

In our Navajo Culture when he said this, I knew it meant the interaction was not yet over. We might have finished the topic we were discussing, but according to my grandfather, the conversation was not yet complete.

"Uuh' ,“ meant you had to tell a story because there was more to talk about.

Sometimes the story would be about your day, sometimes it would be about something going on in the community, and sometimes it would be a story about the past.

My grandfather loved to tell stories, and he loved to hear the stories of others. So "uuh" became almost like a game we would play, volleying our stories back and forth until finally someone would concede and say, "No more uuh' ."

Because of this, it was very difficult to have a short interaction with my grandparents.

I imagine that is how it would feel to talk with Jesus. He rarely seemed rushed, and he always seemed ready to hear someone's story. I am reminded of the bleeding woman he healed in Mark 5. Jesus was on his way to heal the daughter of an important leader in the community named Jairus. This was a very urgent and time sensitive request from an important man, and Jesus responded by heading right over to his house.

But, on the way, he passed a woman who had been subjected to bleeding for 12 years.

In that culture, at that time, this bleeding would have made her 'unclean' and therefore an outcast of that community. She would have been forced to live on the margins of society and either fight to keep her condition secret, or avoid contact with anyone who knew she was sick. Either way, it meant she was marginalized and unknown. We are also told she had spent all that she had going from doctor to doctor, but instead of getting better she only grew worse.

Then, one day, she heard Jesus was passing through town. Jesus was known to be a healer; he was a powerful man of God who could work miracles. So powerful in fact, she concluded that she didn't even need to talk with him or bother him. If she could just touch his cloak as he passed by, she was sure that she would be healed.

And so she staked out her spot. We are not told exactly where she hid, but I suspect that she tried to be as inconspicuous as possible, probably staying low to the ground and blending into the crowd as best as she could. As Jesus walked by, she didn't even speak to him, for that would have given her away. Instead she just reached out and touched his garment.

And it worked! She was healed!

Immediately in her body she sensed something was different. I would imagine she wanted to jump up and down, screaming, dancing, rejoicing, laughing and crying; all at the same time. But she didn't. She remained concealed, hidden and unknown.

But to her horror, Jesus stopped. He looked around. "Who touched me?" he asked his disciples. They thought he was crazy. For Jesus was being followed by a large crowd and there were people all around him. Asking "Who touched me?" was ridiculous. Everyone was touching him.

"No!" Jesus said. "I felt power go out. Someone touched me!" And he continued looking throughout the crowd.

Her gig was up. This powerful man of God knew. She had tried to steal his blessing and had been discovered. So she came forward; scared, embarrassed, humiliated and yet curious. What was going to happen next? How was this 'Jesus' going to respond?

"Uuh'.”

She probably had not heard that in over 12 years! Could it possibly be? Did he really want to hear her story?

"Uuh’.”

Once the dam broke, everything came rushing out. All of it. The frustration, the humiliation, the shame, the anger, the loneliness. Everything. Until at last, her response to his look and to his concern was complete. "No more uuh’,“ she said. That was the whole story.

But she had gone on for so long that some people came from the leader’s house and told Jesus to not even bother coming anymore. The window of opportunity had passed for the girl to be healed. She was dead.

But Jesus waved them off and told them not to worry.

He then turned and finished his conversation with the woman and made her healing complete.

"Daughter," Jesus told her, "your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering."

No doctor could have done this. The healing Jesus was referring to was so much deeper than just her bleeding. His healing started by ending her flow of blood, but it was not complete until she was known, accepted and loved.

In December of 2004, after the earthquake and resulting tsunami off the coast of Indonesia, there was widespread destruction, death and chaos. It was a situation very similar to the earthquake that just occurred in Haiti. Powerful, destructive and completely overwhelming. I was living on our Navajo Reservation at the time and attending a small church there. It amazed me how little the tsunami was discussed in our community. On our reservation there is widespread unemployment and many broken families, alcoholism is rampant and many of our people are just trying to survive. And those who are not still feel extremely limited and even impotent when it comes to helping and reaching out to others around the country and the world. For nearly two centuries the message given to our community by both the government and the church was that we had very little of anything of value to offer and we were only able to receive.

However I knew this was a lie. I knew that God had given our people a culture, a language and a world view that was unique and beneficial to the rest of the world.

So I decided to travel personally to the country of Sri Lanka. I wanted to hand deliver the small financial gift that our community was able to put together and to begin to build a relationship with the communities that had been so devastated in this tragedy. In the large scheme of things, our gift was only a drop in the bucket, a little over a hundred dollars, but I was hoping that some other benefit would come from this trip.

While in Sri Lanka, I was taken one day to a refugee camp that was housing people who lost their homes, their fields, their villages and their livelihoods to the floods. They had nothing, and we were distributing tools and seeds to help them rebuild their lives. During this trip, I continually heard story after story about the millions of dollars that were being donated and how these villages, communities and schools were going to be rebuilt even better than they were before. But I also remember walking through the refugee camp and seeing the displaced families sitting quietly under their tents, just looking out, into nothing. I asked my host whether or not anyone ever came to speak with these people. To sit under their tents with them and ask them their story. The answer astounded me. "No. No one ever comes to do that. Everyone wants to donate something or build something. But hardly anyone just comes to listen and get to know the people.”

In that moment I remembered my Navajo people, our community and even my grandfather, and I knew that I had found something that we could offer in the aftermath of this horrible crisis.

On our reservation we may not have much in the way of wealth or material resources, but we do know how to slowly approach our neighbor. We know how to sit on the dirt floor of their hogan. We know how to make conversation and really speak with them. And we know that when the discussion comes to a lull, it doesn't necessarily mean the interaction is over. Because we know how to sit for a moment in the awkward silence and then patiently and quietly say…

"Uuh'."

And to let a whole other level of healing begin.

By Mark Charles
This article was first published by the Calvin Institute of Christian Worship
(www.calvin.edu/worship/wcom/indig/charles/).

Just as it should be

2009-08-28T12:39:00.003-06:00

It is called Throat Singing and I do not even know how to fully describe it. To me it sounded like a cross between an oboe and someone clearing his throat. It was fascinating to listen to. And as I sat there I found myself feeling excited, uncomfortable, confused and at peace, all at the same time.

I was excited because I was sitting in a small church in the outskirts of Ulan Ude, a Russian city in Siberia just north of Mongolia. I was attending a consultation on Contextualized Worship for the Indigenous peoples of the Siberian region. God had already pulled a few strings just to get me there and I knew it was a privilege to be with this group of Christians from the Buryat, Altai, Tuvan and Sakha peoples, as well as with missionaries from Russia, the US and Europe who had been working in this region for years.

I was excited to be a part of this initial gathering and to have an opportunity to share some of what God has been doing in my own life and among our Navajo people as we have begun to ask the question of "What does it mean to be Navajo and Christian?" I did not come to this consultation to teach, but instead, I came to tell some stories. For that is how it is done within our indigenous communities. Our youth did not traditionally attend school. They did not earn degrees or pass written examinations. Instead, they spent time with their elders. They listened to their stories and were mentored by their experience. And that is exactly what we had come together to do.

This consultation did not begin with a flashy program, nor an elaborate presentation. Instead it started very traditionally; with introductions. We simply went around the room and introduced ourselves to the group. We heard where people were from, who they represented and why they came to this consultation. None of it was choreographed or scripted and there was very little pressure to adhere to a strict time schedule. It was very exciting.

But I also felt uncomfortable and even confused. I had never heard throat singing before and I did not understand the sounds emulating from this man's mouth (throat). Nor did I recognize the tune to the song he was sharing. It was all very new, and somewhat strange. Maybe if we had been in a museum, or at an academic lecture, some sort of 'sterile' environment, then I might have felt more at ease. But we weren't students studying a different culture, trying to get a good grade and earn a degree. We were Christians, coming together from different parts of the world, trying to work out our salvation and understand better how to share the Gospel message with our people.

The man singing was Altai. He had grown up surrounded by the Shamanistic culture of his tribe. He was raised in an environment where this type of song was often used to tell stories as well as to honor and worship the gods and spirits of his people. But after he became a Christian he had a desire to communicate God's love more directly and plainly to their hearts than he was able to do with the translated songs taught by the missionaries. So God gave him the ability to sing from his throat. And now he was using this gift to call our consultation together and to lead us into worship.

You can study and learn about a culture as an outsider or even as an observer. But you cannot worship that way. Worship is personal and intimate. I would love to say that with all of my travels and the many peoples, cultures and languages I have worshipped with, that I no longer feel awkward when I encounter something new. But that is not true and if I am completely honest I have to say "I felt uncomfortable."

But in the midst of all this emotion, I found I was at peace. I remembered this range of emotions which were sweeping over me. I had felt them before and had hoped I would feel them again. I have come to recognize this feeling of being in the presence of God that is initiated by experiencing the diversity of his body.

I have felt God's presence in other situations as well, such as when I am in prayer, convicted by scripture, watching the sunrise or worshiping within my Navajo or American culture. Those experiences are wonderful and familiar and frequently bring me to tears. But experiencing the presence of God through his diverse body is a much different experience. On the surface it feels much more physical and human than spiritual. Feeling God's presence in this way often tempts me to either flee or to take control. It is exciting, uncomfortable, confusing and at times even a bit irritating. But in reflection, it brings peace. And I might even dare say, it is a peace that passes understanding.

This peace comes from remembering that sitting in God's presence should feel this way. It should feel exciting, uncomfortable and confusing. We should want to sit there and soak it in for eternity. But we should also want to flee, to cover our nakedness and hide our sin.

God is wonderful. He is powerful, holy, perfect, terrible and good. And in my humble opinion, the most authentic way I have found to experience him, is to commune with my brothers and sisters, embracing, experiencing and sharing the diverse cultures, languages and world views that he gave to each of us.

God is bigger than any one person, tribe or nation. No single language, culture or people have a monopoly on understanding the vastness of his character. And it is only when we come together, with each part bringing their unique gifts, that we get a fuller and more complete picture of who he is.

And so I was thrilled to be attending this consultation. I loved the start we had gotten off to, coming together to introduce ourselves and share our stories. And I was thrilled that we were not alone. I knew that Jesus was in our midst and that the God of Creation had graced us with his presence.

I knew this because of his promise that where two or three are gathered in his name, he is there.

But I also knew this because I felt excited, uncomfortable, confused and at peace, all at the same time.

Just as it should be.

(I wrote this article for and originally published it on the Calvin Institute of Christian Worship website)

A vote to close Gitmo

2009-05-26T19:00:00.003-06:00

I am afraid that in our efforts to protect ourselves and our way of life our country has taken several steps towards becoming the very thing which we claim to be fighting against. I am afraid we have become so preoccupied with assuring our own safety that we have forgotten about our Declaration of Independence and many of the amendments to our Constitution. In 1776 our Declaration of Independence was drafted and signed. This was a radical document declaring that "All Men are created Equal… and have certain unalienable rights", and it was upon this document that our country was founded. It was upon this document that we fought for our freedom from Britain and formed a new Republic.

However, we immediately showed our selfish ambition and lust for power by beginning to limit, in our Constitution, who "All Men" actually referred to. It is obvious that our founding fathers did not truly believe that "All Men" referred to humankind because they immediately made a distinction in regards to 'FREE' men and slaves, as well as to 'INDIANS' and WOMEN. Why? Because it no longer served their purposes to state that 'All Men' were created equal. Now that they were free, they had to narrowly define this term, lest the slaves, women or Indians organize their own people and begin to demand our own unalienable rights.

As a country we have a huge identity problem. We claim to believe in human rights and freedom and are very quick to jump on our soap box in order to point out the abuses of these rights by other countries. But we have absolutely no integrity. Our country is continually abusing the rights of others and we seem to be completely blind to it. As a Navajo, I am a part of a community that daily must deal with the consequences of the blindness of our country and our Government. I am a part of a community that knows from a personal and historical perspective that no matter what the United States government says; it truly does not believe that 'All men are created equal'. Am I complaining about this? No. Do I feel like I am a victim? No. But what I want is for our United States to decide who we are and what we are about. Do we believe in human rights and freedom? Or are we just another country who is only concerned with its own survival? Are we fighting the terrorists because we truly stand for something different? Or are we fighting the terrorists merely because they are fighting us and we do not like to lose?

I think this war on terror needs to bring to the surface a debate which is long overdue in our country, and that debate is "Who is the United States of America and what do we think of our own Declaration of Independence?” I know our founding fathers wrote this document, but I could point to numerous historical instances such as slavery, American Indian policies and internment camps (to name a few) and argue that they truly did not believe it. So what is this document that we have and what should we do with it? Is it a goal, a statement of intent, or is it merely a document produced and signed by a group of men who ignored their own short and unjust history in this land and put on paper some statements that they thought would best serve their own purposes. To be completely honest, as a citizen of this country and as a Native American, I am not sure. But we have it now and claim to base our freedom and our republic upon it, so we need to decide what to do with it. And this war on terror can be a defining moment for our country and this document.

Since our country has declared a ‘War on Terror’ our government has continually chosen to reduce the rights of its citizens and blatantly ignore the rights of others, for one purpose - survival. They are forgetting that, once we begin fighting for nothing other than survival, there is very little that separates us from our enemies. It is our belief in human rights and freedom that should separate us from Al-Qaida. We should not be fighting for our survival; we should instead be fighting for our Declaration of Independence and our amended Constitution. We should be fighting for the statement; "All men are created equal". And this fight cannot be won merely by killing all dissenters. It will be won in how we treat those dissenters. This war will be won, not in how much intelligence we gather, but in how we gather it. This War on Terror cannot be won if in the end our country is still intact but our government has the right to secretly spy, and gather information on its citizens. Instead, this war will be won, even if our country should parish but history would write that we perished not because our army was not strong enough, but because we refused to fight merely for our survival. We instead fought for something much bigger. We fought for our belief that all men are created equal and have certain unalienable rights, including the very men who were terrorizing us and fighting against us.

Mark Charles

Ya'at'eeh

2009-03-05T06:06:00.002-07:00

"Ya’at’eeh." That is what I should have said. Ya’at’eeh is a Navajo greeting. It is always accompanied with a hand shake, and, if the parties do not know each other, it is usually followed with a formal introduction. I had just finished my shower and was getting dressed when they walked in. Immediately I could feel my defenses go up. "Who do you think you are?" I wanted to ask. "You don't even know me, or who I am!"

My family and I had moved back to the Navajo Reservation about a year earlier and were living in a traditional Navajo hogan located out on a sheep camp. We did this so we could gain a deeper understanding of my Navajo culture as well as experience a life that was not uncommon for our people. We were six miles off the nearest paved road on a dirt road living with no running water or electricity. I was working at that time as a computer consultant. Much of my work I could do from our hogan, but I also occasionally had to travel into 'town' to meet with clients. On those days, I would usually go in early and stop by a local gym where, for a fee, I could take a shower and get cleaned up. This was a common practice for our rural community, and by doing this I felt a deep sense of affinity towards others who were in the same boat as me and even a sense of pride of where I came from.

As I was getting dressed some white men came into the locker room, they were at the gym for more than a shower; they were there to get some exercise. They looked like they lived in town and were regular members of this particular gym. But for some reason, I saw them very differently that morning. I felt very aware of the fact that I was there only to shower, and I feared that they too knew I was from the reservation and was there because I had no running water at home. I feared they were looking down on me with contempt and disgust (even though they did nothing to indicate such an attitude). I had this urge to tell them angrily that I probably had a better education than they did (I graduated from UCLA) and that I probably earned a higher hourly rate than they did. These thoughts surprised and shocked me. I had never before felt such intense feelings of insecurity and fear of being judged over the color of my skin. After they left the room my emotions subsided, and I was left to myself, pondering where those emotions had come from and not knowing what I was supposed to do with them. These men never spoke to me, nor I to them. This entire ordeal was played out only in my mind but is served to drive a wedge into my heart and caused me to begin to emotionally isolate myself from the dominate society, an isolation that took me years to overcome. But it also opened a door for me to begin to understand an aspect of Racial Reconciliation that I had never considered before.

Looking back on that day, I think my entire emotional upheaval could have been avoided had I just remembered the lesson that I learned years ago. When I was in college I joined a Bible study group on campus. God used this to ignite my faith and teach me how to live as a Christian. I remember one lesson in particular. Occasionally, as a group, we would go around the city to give sandwiches to the homeless people we met. We saw in scripture that Jesus loved and cared for the least in his culture, he healed people who were sick and became friends with 'tax-collectors and sinners', even spending time in their homes. This challenged us to look for ways to love those in need around us. But these interactions generally felt very awkward to me. Where I grew up, I was used to people asking for money, and had grown very adept at turning them down, telling myself I was doing them a favor because they would only spend the money on alcohol and feed their addiction. Because of this, I now found that I had no clue how to interact with people I met on the streets and was unable to treat those in need the way Jesus did.

I did not know what to say or how to start a conversation with them. After a few years of this type of bumbling interactions, I decided that I needed to take some drastic action in order to overcome this block. So one weekend a friend and I decided to live on the streets of Santa Monica for 24 hours. The next Friday we dressed in old jeans and t-shirts and took a bus to a busy street near the ocean where we began our journey. For the next day, we were no longer the rich college students with extra money in their pocket. Now, we were just some guys on the street who had no idea where to get food or where to sleep so we would not get arrested. Suddenly, we found that we were now dependant on the very people we once gave charity to. Our interactions were much different now because we had nothing to give and everything to learn. We understood well the dangers of the streets of Los Angeles, and we approached our ignorance with slight fear and trembling. Even when the other homeless people found out that we were students and just doing this as an experiment, they still welcomed us as one of them and shared with us where to get a good hot meal and where and how to sleep on the streets. It amazed me how quick they were to welcome us into their world and help us to adjust. That night, before we went to sleep, we sat around with several people talking and telling stories. The next morning we woke up and were on our own again.

That day I noticed and experienced how lonely and isolated it can feel living on the streets, even though there were people all around. I remember one moment in particular when I saw someone notice us walking on the sidewalk toward them, and they crossed the street and walked on the other side. By afternoon we were exhausted both physically and emotionally. It had been a long lonely day that stood in stark contrast to the previous night. I guess during the day, most of the homeless population is out looking for money or working day jobs, and so the only interactions we could have had was with people who had homes, which essentially meant we had no interaction with anyone. And so we felt tired, lonely, hungry and discouraged; and this was after just one day! I could only imagine how we would feel after weeks, months or even years of seeing people cross the street or turn the other way when we came towards them. I learned that weekend that one of the biggest needs for people on the streets was the need to be acknowledged and spoken to, kindly and with interest. Food was easy to find, but people willing to talk and engage in conversation was much harder to come by.

Had I remembered this lesson, I probably would have handled my insecurity differently that morning in the gym. Instead of sitting in silence and stewing in my emotions, I should have spoken up and interacted with the men who walked into the locker room. Not to challenge them and justify myself, but to hold out my hand and say “Ya’at’eeh”; and then to introduce myself and begin to get to know them.

Since that day in the gym, God has been working in my heart and continues to challenge my behavior. Today, I spend a significant amount of time initiating interaction and building relationships with churches, organizations, businesses and people off of our reservation and around the world.

Living on the Navajo Reservation feels very similar to the 24 hours I spent on the streets of Santa Monica; it is very lonely. Our nations and peoples have been pushed aside to scraps of land that are largely unwanted and out of the way. The majority of people who visit us are those coming to give us charity or those coming to take pictures at the 'Native American zoo'. Very few actually come for friendship.

I have tried to explain to people that being Native American and living on the reservation feels like I am an old grandmother who owns a very large house. It is a beautiful house with plenty of rooms and comfortable furniture. I am upstairs in my bedroom tired, weak and sick. Meanwhile there is a party going on in my house. It is a large party with plenty of food and drink, games and laughter. People are all throughout the house having a great time. Yet no one ever comes up to my room. No one comes in to say hello and no one stops to acknowledge that the house belongs to me. It is not even that I am sad that I cannot join in on the festivities, or that I would be unwelcome to come out of my room. It is that, no one comes to me. And at times I wonder if they even remember whose house they are in.

The temptation is to stay on the reservation and remain silent – to stew in my hurt and allow my emotions to fester. It is tempting to say, if no one remembers us, than we should just forget about them. But that will not lead to reconciliation nor is it the will of our Father in heaven. God has continually called me to step off of our reservation and to give myself to relationships. Not to assimilate and 'fit in' with everyone else. But to introduce myself as a Navajo man and invite people into friendship.

This is not the final solution. It is a step. It is only an entry point into a much larger process and a much bigger dialog. But we have to start somewhere. Our world, our country, our churches and our people are divided. There are generations worth of injustice, shame, hurt and anguish that drives fear into our hearts and fuels our isolation. And we are frequently just sitting in silence and stewing in our insecurities. I am not offering a solution, but rather a step. Can we stand up, put aside our insecurities, look each other in the eye, extend our hands and say “Ya’at’eeh”?

"When I grow up I want to be a shepherd"

2008-12-10T10:23:00.006-07:00

I imagine that is what my grandfather said when he was a young boy growing up near Blanco Canyon in New Mexico. I remember him telling me stories about when he used to herd sheep as a child. That is until he was 'enrolled' in school. At a young age my grandfather was removed from his home and sent to a boarding school. There he was forbidden from speaking Navajo, practicing Navajo traditions and culture, and even learning from his elders. He was made to pick an English name and a birthday. Everything that was 'Navajo' was pushed aside and replaced with what was 'American'. He no longer was given the option of becoming a shepherd when he grew up. He was forced, at an early age, into a whole new world and this world had little value or patience for who he was or where he came from.

In an effort to give their children the best possible chance of surviving in this new world, my grandparents encouraged them in English and in their education. At the same time, they also heavily deemphasized the Navajo language and traditional way of life. As a child, I saw my grandparents nearly every day and for several years, as they grew older, I practically lived with them, sleeping at their house nearly every night. But they rarely spoke Navajo to me and only told me stories when I asked, which was not very frequent. As a result, I never considered becoming a shepherd. I never considered moving back to the Reservation. I thought I was to take the path that led deep into this 'new world' that lay before me. I graduated from Rehoboth Christian high school and enrolled at the University of California, Los Angeles. And I have to admit, upon leaving for college I had no plans of ever returning for anything more than a brief visit.

But nearly 12 years later (about 5 years ago), I moved with my family from where we were living in Denver, CO back to the Navajo Nation. Ever since I left for college and especially as I began raising a family I began to realize how important it was to understand who I was and where I came from. I wanted to understand and speak the Navajo language and to become familiar with our culture and traditional way of life. The world is becoming more and more integrated and assimilated; television, radio, the internet and the Global Marketplace are bringing people together in ways that were never imagined even 25 years ago. Unfortunately, as we are being drawn ‘together’ we are also being stripped of many of the things that make us different and unique; things such as language, cultural traditions and dress. Kids on the Navajo reservation are sitting in our trailers and hogans watching TV and surfing the internet and being bombarded with the same ‘ideal’ images for body, clothing, careers and life styles as the kids in Beverly Hills, Manhattan and Miami. Our Navajo children look around and see the unemployment and depressed economy of the reservation and quickly realize that learning to herd sheep, speaking Navajo and knowing their clans will be of little value in this new global economy. So they learn the same thing my grandfather was told, that things which make us distinctive and unique are supposed to be shed and tossed aside in an effort to 'fit in' and succeed.

This is exactly what happened to me, and after I realized it I was incredibly grateful that I still had a chance to reverse my course and offer my children something different. So my family and I moved back to the Navajo reservation and were given an opportunity to live in a one room hogan out on a sheep camp located on a dirt road six miles off of the nearest paved road. For three years we lived there with no running water or electricity. We had a dirt floor and an outhouse about 50 yards away. Sheep, cows and horses frequently grazed right outside our door, and we lived alongside and at the mercy of the elements (wind, cold, heat, rain, snow and mud).

Since graduating from college I have been trained and began working as a computer programmer and data analyst doing technical support, database design and web programming. And while living in Denver I started doing contract work for companies remotely, outside of the Denver area. Most of the time, I would telecommute over the internet and occasionally would travel to visit my clients on site. Prior to our move back to the Navajo Nation, I tested and discovered that I could receive a digital cellular signal at our hogan. This meant I would be able to keep working for my clients; by connecting my cell phone to my laptop I could use it as a modem and get on the internet at DSL speeds (I call myself the Verizon Wireless poster child). Once I was on the internet, I could perform all of my assigned duties for the clients I was working for, or at least in 3-4 hour segments, which was the battery life of my laptop and cell phone. But I was also able to charge them in our car if a longer work session was necessary. I found this arrangement worked out extremely well and was delighted that I could give my children the experience of growing up in a very traditional Navajo setting while still demonstrating to them that we could also actively participate in the Global Marketplace. I especially remember one afternoon, I was returning from herding sheep. It was the first time I took them out by myself, and it felt like a graduation of sorts. I recently had completed a computer contract, and we were beginning to wonder where my next project would come from. I had my cell phone with me and as we came up over the hill, I saw that I had received a voicemail. A previous client of mine had called to let me know they had some additional work for me and were wondering if I could begin working for them again soon. Some of the work would require travel, but much of it could be done from our hogan. I remember at that moment feeling a surge of pride, hope and purpose. What a wonderful privilege it was to be able to raise my children in such a culturally traditional and rural environment and yet still have the opportunity to work in such a technically advanced and competitive field.

About a year and a half later my family and I moved from our hogan to Fort Defiance. Our current house is still located on a dirt road, but now we do have electricity and running water. I am still doing contract work and have clients around the country that I consult for on a continual basis. My oldest son attends Dine Bi'olta, the Navajo Immersion school here in Fort Defiance. At his school, Navajo is the primary language of instruction, and he is learning daily about the culture and traditions of our people as well as math, science and reading skills. We regularly travel back to our hogan and occasionally pull him out of school so he can participate in activities with family on the sheep camp and around the community. I see all of this as a valuable part of his education and understanding of his identity. He knows and sees that daddy works on his computer and often has meetings with people around the country and even the world. He also knows that at times I need to travel to do my work, but frequently I am able to do it from our house in Fort Defiance or even from our hogan out at the sheep camp. And this is exactly what I want him to learn. I want my son to know that he can live on our reservation, participate in a traditional way of life and spend time talking with and learning from the elders of our community while at the same time also participating, competing and succeeding in the new Global Marketplace.

I miss my grandparents and often wish they could have lived long enough to see the full circle I have traveled. I know my grandfather would be proud of where we live and how we are raising our children. And I think he would agree with me when I say that I am convinced that the future leaders of our Navajo people, our country and the world, will not just be those who have successfully navigated and mastered the academic and economic paths laid before them. But they will also have a deep understanding of their own identity and a strong connection to the communities they come from. These leaders will know who they are both within, as well as separate from, the Global Marketplace. They will know how to navigate through it, but will not allow it to define them. And their children will have the opportunity to say "WHEN I GROW UP I WANT TO BE A SHEPHERD."