A Navajo in the City

[smallnavajo@aol.com]

A Navajo in the City



Ten years ago I moved eight hours away to the city,

Where I could find jobs left and right.

There are some views of surrounding beauty,

But don’t go looking in the night.



I am a Navajo from Inscription House.

The home land that has fed my heart and soul.

The Dine’ language first came out of my mouth.

These things I shall cherish and hold.



I met a man today while I was paying my rent.

I again heard that same old stereotypical question.

“Don’t you get paid money from the government”?

Harsh words sat on my lips and I thought, “You’re lucky I’m a Christian”.



I’ve grown up since I came here ten years ago.

I didn’t have a choice for it was all in my face.

A man wanted to shoot me, luckily he let me go.

It was at night; I don’t think it was because of my race.



Every now and then I go home to see my maa saan,

She is everything to me, she makes me whole.

She prays for me all the time, she tells me I’m her loved one.

Her years are steadily showing, we call it old.



This is me; I’m a Navajo in the city.

My heart still beats and pumps the Navajo blood.

I shall return forever one day without pity.

For the reservation called Inscription House is my “hood”.



Davina Tallman Harrison

smallnavajo@aol.com