Meet our Guests: Richard Graymountain

Richard Graymountain

San Juan Southern Paiute Tribal Councilmember and medicine man

Navajo Mountain, AZ / Navajo Nation

9/26/21

Sitting next to a crackling fire beneath Navajo Mountain, medicine man Richard Graymountain describes the frictions associated with Diné (Navajo) and San Juan Southern Paiute tribal membership in the age of ever-expanding modernity. He observes that young Diné people who have grown up with indoor spaces and the luxuries they provide—electricity, heating and cooling—do not realize the importance of becoming familiar and comfortable on their ancestral land.  

Graymountain is a vestige of declining customs, believing in the importance of traditional cultural values. Passing those on has become more and more difficult with the imposition of Western society, and a pandemic that prevents people from gathering in their typical tight-knit fashion. However, with a spot on the San Juan Southern Paiute tribal council, Graymountain is able to have some influence over the direction and values of the tribe. One impactful and direct way he’s achieved this recovery is by emphasizing the cultural importance of oral tradition. Historically, all accumulated knowledge was passed down in this manner. During his time on the tribal council, Graymountain has endeavored to pass on the Navajo and Paiute languages. Most notably, he has revived forgotten songs by teaching them to children. Through ceremonies, storytelling, and song, Richard Graymountain helps to breathe life into the Navajo and Paiute languages, igniting new generations.

By Ruthie Colburn

Meet our Guests: Brett Isaac

Brett Isaac

Founder and Co-CEO, Navajo Power

Navajo Mountain, AZ / Navajo Nation

9/25/21

Brett Isaac grew up next to the Peabody Coal Mine and surrounded by the effects it had on his Diné (Navajo) community in Shonto. Specifically: contaminated drinking water, depletion of the drinking water aquifer, and respiratory illness among the local population. Additionally, the electricity generated by the coal from this mine was not accessibly to Diné families.

After graduating from Arizona State University, Brett came home to the Navajo Nation in hopes of bringing money and electric power back. He started by building solar panel arrays for individual houses far off the grid as well as providing mobile power units that have been used by Diné residents and by protestors at Standing Rock to power their camps.

In 2020, Brett co-founded Navajo Power: a public benefit renewable energy corporation that aims to brings the economic and environmental boons of solar energy to the Navajo Nation and other indigenous communities across the country. While he does not think solar energy is the “silver bullet” in dealing with climate change, he believes that it is a step in the right direction and sees first-hand how beneficial it is for the communities he has brought power to.

By Wes Johnston

Editor’s note: the photo of Brett Isaac above is from SITW 2016 as SITW 2021 met with Brett at night and did not get a more recent portrait.

Meet our Guests: Jason Nez

Jason Nez

Fire Archeologist

Navajo Nation

09/26/21

“I’m always looking at signs and putting together stories,” says Jason Nez, kneeling to examine a sherd of Diné pottery patterned with rusty stalks of corn. As an archaeologist, Jason reads complex stories of people and place from the minutia of human markings and artifacts. As a wildland fire crew manager with the National Park Service, he puts his archaeological literacy to uncommon use.

The process of corralling and extinguishing fires leaves its own scars on landscapes. Fire line trenches and vehicular tracks disturb landscapes in the name of park protection but threaten to erase sites of native artifacts should they collide with the path of fire. Thus, Jason proactively identifies sites and develops plans to spare them from damage by fire crews.

Lasting artifacts have been a vital source of power for the Diné and other indigenous tribes whose nativity, as Jason articulates, is constantly questioned. “So when we see these [artifacts],” Jason emphasizes, “it’s our proof that we were here. They couldn’t take us from this landscape because we were able to argue in court that these were our ancestors’ and it’s indisputable. So having enough respect to leave these things here, protects these connections far into the future in bigger ways than we can ever imagine.”

By Nicki Caddell

Meet our Guests: Norman Benally

Norman Benally

Interpreter, activist, sheep herder, and assembly line worker

Black Mesa, AZ / Navajo Nation

9/25/21

Self-proclaimed “old timer,” Norman Benally meets Westies outside his home in Black Mesa on the Navajo Nation in Arizona. His house adjoins a retired coal processing plant. Peabody Energy moved into the region in 1968, mining coal and pumping water from the Navajo aquifer to power cities off the reservation – Tucson, Flagstaff, Las Vegas. For years, many Diné (Navajo) people depended on the coal plant for work and the aquifer for water, yet their proximity to these resources did little to increase their access.

Today, the plant is shut down. A pipeline borders Norman’s house, but no water runs through his faucet. “The politics are as dirty as the coal plant,” he states—not to mention the drinking water. This summer, 86 of his sheep died after drinking from a nearby spring. He holds up a plastic water bottle, “we never drank out of these [until now].”

Before the backdrop of an arid, industrial landscape – his backyard – Norman expounds on the “struggle to maintain a way of life we were raised in,” when any extra cash goes into feeding his livestock, and the local resources “to keep all those AC units running in the Southwest.” Norman has pushed through this struggle. He resisted removal, fought, and remained. Norman’s activism, working as a translator for Navajo matriarchs to speak out against the coal plant and pass down Diné stories, has brought him to locations such as Standing Rock and the United Nations. His story is what he calls “the hard truth.” He intends to continue resisting.

By Neave Fleming