Mere introductions: overlooked professional development opportunities by Eryka Charley
My name is Eryka Charley and I am a Navajo woman born into the Red House People Clan and for the Towering House People Clan. My maternal grandfather is of the Meadow People Clan and my paternal grandfather is of the Mexican People Clan. In the Navajo culture, it is customary to introduce your clans to give people a sense of who you are and who you represent. Since this is my first contribution to the AJE forum I thought that you should know who I am.
Since I became a doctoral student at Penn State, the question, “what is Indian education” comes up rather frequently. In many ways I am constantly asking myself that question and find that there is no simple answer. The statistical profile of American Indian education is stark. Only 71% of all American Indians have a high school diploma, compared to 90% for the white population (National Indian Education Association [NIEA], n.d.). Eleven percent of American Indians have a Bachelor of Arts degree, compared to 31% of the white population (NIEA, n.d.). The literature offers the following priorities for American Indian education focuses on strengthening tribal control of education, sustaining tribal culture and languages, developing a population of Native educators and improving the federal government’s support of education (NIEA, 2011). I am often overwhelmed with where to begin. These priorities have become a framework for my work but I cannot help but focus upon the scarcity of American Indian educators. I realize now that as an American Indian educator, I not only have an obligation to educate Indian students, but also the non-Native educators they encounter. I cannot simply resurrect American Indian educators to support the underlying theory to promote positive environments for American Indian students.
Upon reflecting on this question, I have mentally mapped out the crossroads and currents that have brought me here, with the hope that my personal experiences might provide some insight into addressing this question. My father’s stern, military rearing and my mother’s patient, Christian upbringing has been a sturdy catalyst for my success. From my grandmother I was taught that if I truly wish to pay respect to those who enabled my aspirations I need to personally guide young people. I have also received a tremendous amount of support and advice from my siblings, both of whom are educated, young professionals. As I cannot attribute my own success to one event, I wonder, what is the thread that ties all of my experiences together?
I cannot generalize my upbringing to every American Indian person. I have access to a chain of privileges that are not afforded to every American Indian child and these privileges are pivotal reasons for my academic success. However, I realize that as an American Indian person who spent a part of her childhood on the Navajo reservation, and did not have the opportunity to be taught by someone with the same racial background, that there is a mystery hidden within my experience. Somewhere within my story the practices called for within the literature came into fruition.
In thinking about the educators, I have witnessed individuals either actively encourage students or serve as an obstruction towards academic progress. I have observed individuals who tout being an ally or advocate to underrepresented students as if it were a certificate of perfect attendance. However, based on my own personal experiences it is from their words and actions that I have been wounded deeper than any bigoted comment or action I have ever been subjected to. Fortunately, despite their efforts to discourage me, I have had influential educators who honed my talents in preparation for the next person who questioned my ability. Interestingly enough, these educators did not identify as American Indian.
As a child I would stand before my parents, reciting my introduction in Navajo. I would roll my eyes, while they would lecture me on the cultural importance of being able to introduce myself. As I pursue my academic career, it has been critical for me to remember who I am and where I come from.
In high school, it was a White guidance counselor with Dutch heritage and an infatuation for the outdoors and mandolins, who preferred to be called ‘T’. A week before my freshman year of high school, my mother and I visited T to schedule my courses. I had mixed feelings about transferring to this new school. I had a negative experience at the local school and it was only a few months after my grandmother passed away. I knocked on the door to a tiny office and an enthusiastic, White man with curly hair popped from his chair and welcomed us into his office. My mom giggled and greeted him, “Thank you for making time for us, Dr. Tamminga.” He shook his head with modesty while hopping back into his office chair, “You can call me ‘T’. The kids do.” Cordial introductions were given and he asked my mom where she was from. She responded, “Coyote Canyon.” He exclaimed with glee, “Oh! Ma’ii teehitlizhi, where the coyote fell in the watering hole.” I was surprised to hear Navajo come from his mouth. Suddenly, my inhibitions were gone. Needless to say, I excelled and exceeded my own expectations and established a life-long relationship with T that I continue to nurture to this day.
In college, Dr. Mario Montaño, more fondly known simply as Mario, a Mexican Anthropology professor with a passion for food took me under his wing. In my second year of college, a friend invited me to join him and Dr. Montaño for lunch at a local hamburger restaurant. I hesitantly accepted the invitation, not certain if it was appropriate for me to join. Apprehensively, I walked into the restaurant and there sat a man with small stature and floppy graying hair. He rose to his feet and embraced me as if I were a family member. I instantly felt welcomed. During our lunch, Mario asked me about T & R, a grocery store near the Navajo reservation, where he always buys mutton. Mario exclaimed, “It’s great. You just take your cooler and fill it up with mutton. It’s just great.” This initial conversation would later generate a paper entitled The Navajo Churro Sheep: Historical, Symbolic, and Cultural Texts, that I would present at an Anthropology conference in Quebec two years later. I was one of three undergraduate students who were invited to present at this conference, all three of which were mentored by Mario.
As a child I would stand before my parents, reciting my introduction in Navajo. I would roll my eyes, while they would lecture me on the cultural importance of being able to introduce myself. As I pursue my academic career, it has been critical for me to remember who I am and where I come from. In particular, reminding myself that the contributing relationships for my academic success were built upon a mere introduction. From the first introductions that I shared with T and Mario, I felt that they respected who I was and they invited me to fully participate in my education. I cannot engage in the academe without bringing my whole self to the table. Just as I am asked to engage in a culture that is distinctly different then my own, I ask that you consider the culture of your students. Being of a different cultural background is not a barrier to academic success; in many ways being a Navajo woman is the thread that ties my experience and success together.
I do not offer these anecdotes as a one-step solution to the problems within Indian education, but as a request for non-Native educators to join me in making Indian education a priority. I do not have the ability to be in every school, college, or university to educate and support American Indian students. So I have to depend on you and every other educator in this country to make a commitment to want to support these students. The drop-out rate for American Indians is prevalent throughout the education system, from primary school to higher education. Without the support of the educators throughout this system, there will always be a scarcity of American Indian educators. As Brayboy and Deyhle (2000), state, “Although I could never become a complete ‘insider’ – no matter how much I have been taught, I will never become Navajo – I have used my position, as Swisher (1998) would describe, to become ‘broker of sorts’ ” (as cited in Brayboy & Deyhle, 2000). In whatever capacity you can become a ‘broker of sorts’, I ask you to engage in dialogue with your students, you never know where the pivotal learning opportunities await.
Brayboy, B. M., & Deyhle, D. (2000). Insider-outsider: Researchers in American Indian communities. Theory into Practice, 39(3), 164-69.
National Indian Education Association. (n.d.). Native education 101: Basic facts about American Indian, Alaska Native, and Native Hawaiian Education. Retrieved from: www.niea.org/data/files/policy/nativeeducation101.pdf
National Indian Education Association. (2011). Restoring the trust in Native education. Retrieved from: http://www.niea.org/Policy/Briefing-Papers.aspx