Drawing A Line In the Sand

Hard Rocks
It sits north of Dinnebito (Navajo Water), a place where there is no water. There is a mission and some housing and a lot of empty land
where there are some juniper, greasewood and cedar trees as well as
some sage growing.
In some ways it is one of the last outposts for resistance, a claim by
a few to tell everyone that they want the right to live and stay in this place where no one in their right might would want to live. There is no industry, movie houses, grocery stores and playgrounds, it is way off the beaten path, but it is a place where some have been born to and known from childhood, where they played on the rocks, herded sheep and hauled water and cut firewood over many years, where there have been sings and songs sung of horses, traveling and small patches of corn grown for the few bits of pollen that become a part of the blessing of each new day. In a word it is life, living from dawn to dusk, to taste the dust, feel the wind and know the scent of a home fire.

Some time ago, a Navajo woman came to me and said these words to me. Where is your family, are you taking care that they have a place to live, a hogan, that there is fresh water for them, a warm fire and food for them to eat. It was a pretty simple thing really, to provide these basic things, but in order to do them you have to know where home is and have a place to live. I thought nothing of what was said to me then, but as time has gone on, the words kept coming back.

This barren piece of land is home, it is where we have walked and lived for a long time, but in this harsh landscape where there are hard rocks families lived without fanfare and little interference from the outside world. Now it has become because a line was drawn in the sand, Hopiland.

There are many things about the Hopis, they are an ancient people, and they
are very traditional and for the most part have lived around their mesas. But the resistance movement isn't so much about them as it is about the lack of power of a people to control their destiny, that somehow the rights of the tribe and government supersede individual rights, the right of an indian person to live where they want.

It is this lack of freedom, the true meaning of being a ward of the
the United States Government. If you are enrolled living on trust indian land, nothing is really yours, it is only there until the government takes iit away.