Meet our Guests: Adrian and Dan Herder

Adrian Herder

Teacher

Pinon, AZ

Dan Herder

Rancher

Hardrock, AZ

10/14/18

We sat huddled around a small fire on the Black Mesa Reservation with multiple generations of the Herder family. A delighted smile flashed across Adrian Herder’s face as he narrated ghost stories in the last bit of the day’s light. At twenty-six years old, Adrian is full of enthusiasm and is eager to share stories and the history and heartache of the Navajo land. Continuing in his family’s footsteps, he is a dedicated activist and originally connected with the Semester in the West program through contacts he made at an environmental conference held by the Grand Canyon Trust in 2014.  Like many young people on the reservation, Adrian left to pursue his education at Northern Arizona University but, unlike most, he was able to find a job back home coaching cross country and teaching art at the small high school in Pinon, thereby avoiding the all too common migration from reservation to city in search of work.  

In our few days on the Navajo Reservation with the Herder family, we were welcomed with a rare openness and warmth. As we introduced ourselves, the Herders asked us why we were there and what we wanted to gain from our experience. In resounding unity, we answered,  “to listen.” Adrian’s grandfather, Dan, told us that the animals used to lead them to the water sources, but now, due to the repercussions of the coal plant on the reservation and the rising impacts of climate change (the southwest being at the forefront of it), the soil has become dry and barren, almost uninhabitable. A sense of urgency and heartache emanated from each member of the Herder family as they spoke to us about how Peabody Coal has impacted their home and Black Mesa. “Our pristine aquifers have been sucked dry,” Dan explained. The only spring that flows near the Herder residence now is beneath a large rock canyon, and according to Dan, “It’s barely enough water to wet your hands and knees as you crawl through the rock wall tunnel.”

The next day, Adrian led us to a site where we helped lift rocks and move fallen trees to create gabions: small dams used for erosion control.  The Herders work vigilantly to divert rainwater, slow erosion, and create nutrient rich soil for vegetation growth. We listened, and the concerns were heard loud and clear. What will this land look like with the absence of water? What will it mean for the livestock, wildlife, and residents of Black Mesa, all of whom depend on water as a vital, life sustaining resource.

By Lauren Ewell

Photo by Jessie Brandt

Meet our Guests: The Herder Matriarchs

Lorraine Herder

Edith Simonsen

Linda Henley

Hardrock, AZ

10/13/18

Big Mountain was set ablaze by the orange of the setting sun. A juniper-tindered fire scorched my skin, casting its umber glow upon the faces of the three matriarchs that sat across from me: Linda, Edith, and Loraine; “The Grannies,” the voices of reason, women’s voices that speak for the land and the Navajo community.

The light reflected upon their aged faces, accentuating their wrinkles and kind, wise eyes. Wool, artistically stained with juniper, prickly pear, and sage, slipped through their hands-- hands worn and weathered from a lifetime of weaving, herding, and tending to land, children, and their communities. Edith delicately ran her hands over one of her intricately-patterned woven rugs as she talked about raising her children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren on these very lands, about their struggles with industry interests that seem to care little about their impact on the land, water, and air upon which the Navajo people depend.

 As our bodies rested on the rugs and our fingers felt the wool made from the sheep tended by these women, The Grannies recounted their most recent fight: a trip to New York City to protest the Navajo Generating Station, a nearby coal-fired power plant, from being purchased. Their resistance paid off; the prospective deal was stopped and the station will be closed in a year--a success for these women, their families, and others who spoke up for renewable energy, pure water, and clean air. Edith recalled her pride and admiration for Axheenaba, her youngest great grandchild and a budding activist, who united people together and led the chants saying, “water is life.” She remembers a time when the aquifer was pristine and full and feels called to fight for the land, the water, the animals, and of course, her children, grandchildren, and all those who will come after her. These are The Grannies--grandmothers, mothers, wives, sisters, wool makers, rug weavers, and fierce protectors of their homeland. In a place of abundant sunshine and winds, they seek clean energy and jobs that won’t make the people sick.

By Lauren Ewell

Meet our Guests: Jason Nez

Jason Nez

Archaeologist & Artist

Tuba City, AZ

10/9/18

We bounce, rattle, and roll with the potholes and washouts as we skip along the North Rim of the Grand Canyon, listening to the hits of the 80’s. Jason Nez is at the helm, a Navajo archaeologist who spent the day out in the field showing us archeological sites that consisted of old ruins, pot shards, and petroglyphs. Driving along, Jason flashes a broad grin as we pepper him with questions, he seems to have a thoughtful response to all of them and appreciates our enthusiasm for learning about archaeology and asking him why he dedicates his time to it. He believes in the power of sharing these sites, educating people on the history of them and current cultural traditions as a means of conserving resources and protecting them into the future.  Jason’s passion stems from his desire for people to see that Native Americans have belonged as an integral part of the narrative in the history and future of this place. This is why he works to educate people about the importance of protecting cultural sites.

Jason emphasized that he wants others to see and feel the way he does when in a landscape or looking at a prehistoric site. He stated, “I want them to love these places. I want them to appreciate them, because when you love somewhere and when you love something, you will fight for it”. Jason’s breadth of knowledge and love for what he does stressed the importance of not taking projectile points, pottery shards, or remnants of other cultures home for one’s own selfish desires. Jason hammered home the necessity to leave artifacts in the dirt of the landscapes they inhabit, as they help to provide context, cultural significance and act as evidence highlighting the importance of native peoples.

By Liam Voorhees

Meet our Guests: Joe Pachak

Joe Pachak

Artist

Bluff, UT

10/2/2018

Joe Pachak walks slowly through a fine drizzle, long goatee brushing his Patagonia jacket as he scans the rain-plumped red earth. Pausing, he kneels down, running his fingers over a protrusion of chert, a jagged scarlet patch of hard stone in a sea of soft limestone. He explains that these pockets of acidic chert formed in the basic limestone back when the crest of earth we are standing on now was at the bottom of an ocean. Picking up a piece of chert no larger than my thumbnail next to his knee, Joe’s hands mime the movements a flintknappers hands would make while forming a point.

Joe is an artist residing in Bluff, Utah, and has long been obsessed with discovering rock art and artifacts created by native peoples. Today, we are walking with him along the rim of a dried oxbow of the San Juan River just outside of Bluff, in southern Utah. He stops, showing us shrines, rocks that were used to knap flint, flakes, and potsherds ranging in color from yellow to red to black and white. We carefully place each artifact back in the spongy soil, tucking them under bushes and overhanging stones, but never burying them. We are in an area where archeologists from the BLM have removed many artifacts, and I ask Joe what his thoughts are on scientists removing artifacts versus leaving them in the field. He responds with a story-told softly through his white beard.

Growing up in Colorado, Joe followed his father in practicing a “finders keepers” methodology when they encountered artifacts and accumulated a huge collection of arrowheads. Obsessed from this young age, Joe eventually transitioned into a “finders leavers” mentality and practiced it so adamantly that his own father did not give him their arrowhead collection, for fear Joe would toss it back out into the sagebrush whence it was found.

Joe knows the power of an artifact left in place, from his many times guiding artifact hunting trips and witnessing the transformation of a person after finding an artifact. He also knows that many people don’t have the same mentality he does and would rather see artifacts safely scooped up by archeologists than in the private collections of people like his father. Throughout our drizzly walk, Joe encouraged us to feel the power of the pieces we found and their ancient spirits, and how we would like to continue encountering artifacts in their “native” environments.

By Clara Hoffman

Meet our Guests: Joe McCormack

Joe McCormack

Nez Perce Tribal Fisherman

Wallowa County, OR

8/26/18

Joe McCormack is a rancher, a Vietnam veteran, a fisherman, a watershed expert, and the only Nez Perce tribe member to still reside full-time in Wallowa County. He speaks with a slow, steady voice as his eyes move between each of us in the circle. The emotion not conveyed in his tone is communicated when his face cracks into a brilliant grin. Pausing mid sentence, to select from his plethora of stories and experiences, he shares the story of the Nez Perce on this land, the forced treaties, and dislocation that drove out his ancestors. Through this, he dismisses the notion that treaties “granted” the Nez Perce the right to the fish in these waters. Rather, Joe makes it clear that his people “reserved” a right that had always been theirs. He speaks of the abundance that these watersheds once held, and is dedicated to restoring those fish populations by collaboratively working with tribal and governmental agencies in order to manage the watersheds. The importance of this work is to increase the populations, even through the use of hatchery-raised fish. For Joe, the issue is not where the fish come from, but whether there are enough fish in the watershed for the Nez Perce to do as they always have.

By: Aliza Anderson-Diepenbrock