Ethel Yazzie's Abduction

Late in the summer of the Bilagáana year 1926, the wind blew softly across the tall rows of corn that grew in the fields between the groves of piñon trees where Hosteen Yazzie worked. With his back bent and the sweat from his brow trickling down his brown face, the elder Yazzie kept at his chores while his young daughter ran and played among the plants. Hosteen Yazzie stopped his labor just long enough to admire his offspring; his heart filling with the pride she gives him. He reached over and took some of the sacred pollen from the nearest stalk. Holding it between his fingers, he extended his arm towards each of the four directions. Saying a prayer, he let the pollen slip into the wind, just as he was taught to do by his own father, many years ago.

The first six years of young Ethel Yazzie's life were filled with love and wonder. She had been born to the Bitter Water Clan of the Diné (or Navajo as the Euro-Americans named these people of Northeastern Arizona). Tall for her age, her hair was as dark as the feathers of a raven, her eyes, a soft brown, complementing her lighter skin. In her father's eyes, young Ethel was the image of his wife, her mother. But at this moment, it was Ethel's mother, Betseh, whom Hosteen Yazzie's thoughts turned towards as he worked.

It had been some time now that he had kept a secret from her. This is a thing he would not normally do. How could he tell her that at least a month ago some strangers had come to see him about their child? How does he find the words to explain that these men of The Government want to take their youngest daughter and put her into an institution so far from them? A boarding school they called it; it was a place where their daughter would have to live, not coming home even for a visit until the school was finished with its task of educating her to their beliefs and ways; a task that would take years. His wife would feel the pain of losing a child; one who should be with her, to learn from her what needs to be known. It's not the way of the Diné to let others outside the family take upon themselves the task of teaching the children what kind of men and women they should grow up to be. This responsibility is given to the parents of the Diné children and that is as it should be. Had not their grandparents already fought the missionaries' deceitful attempts to convert The People to their idea of God and His instructions as to what is or is not right? Now this battle would have to be fought all over again.

Hosteen Yazzie was about to return to his labor when the sound of a bell reached his ears - the one which hangs around the neck of the cantankerous goat that had assumed the leader position of the Yazzie's herd of sheep and goats. These animals were grazing quietly at the other end of the field, away from his corn and melon plants, as they usually did. Sporadically, the dogs that watched the flock would begin chasing a rabbit or another small animal, scattering the herd as they played - for the pure pleasure of the chase. All in all, the day seemed as if it was going well, except for the nagging uneasiness of Hosteen Yazzie's fears.

Ethel Yazzie stopped her game and sat on the ground beside a huge wooden plow that lay broken and rotting in the dirt. She was watching a stinkbug as it walked stiffly, threateningly holding its black hind end high in the air, trying to keep from being eaten by the other insects and critters that would like to make a meal of it. Ethel knows that this beetle as well as the toad affectionately called 'Grandfather Horned Toad', is held in great respect by the Diné.

She thought of her own grandfather. He was a very old man when he left this world; an old man with whom she had spent many hours, listening as he told her the stories of the creation of the world and all the creatures in it. Ethel's father, Hosteen Yazzie, was the focal point of her life now. It was he who had taken up the teaching left unfinished by her grandfather. Her mother and aunts would soon begin the teachings that were necessary for a young Diné girl to know.

There was so much to learn! How to prepare sheep's wool for dyeing, then to be spun into yarn and woven into a blanket of beauty was just one of the lessons. She must also learn to prepare meals and keep order in the hogan, as well as how to carry herself in the way that Changing Woman herself had taught was proper for a young Diné woman. Ethel knew that the time for her mother to teach her these things would come soon. Still, she found that she was much happier with her father for company. He was a kind man and always had a smile for her, no matter how mischievous she might be.

Hosteen Yazzie stopped his hoeing, the long handle of his tool held still in his hand, the blade just inches above the ground. Something was wrong. The air around him felt heavy. The dogs were quiet. Nothing moved. In the distance, the faint hum of a motorcar could be heard. The sound was heading his way. It could only be the Government Men returning for his daughter as they said they would.

He called, "Ethel! Come to me. Quickly!"

Ethel ran toward her father. "Daddy, what's happening?"

The tone in her father's voice frightened her. She was crying as she threw herself into the arms he held out to her.

Hosteen Yazzie held his child, then told her to run. "Run, Ethel! Run FAR from here and hide yourself in the woods."

"But why, Daddy?"

"Don't ask questions, my child. Just run! Run as fast as you can. Don't look back. Just hide until I come for you."

He let go of his daughter. She turned and ran as she had been told. He watched her until she disappeared. Then he started off toward the hogan where his wife waited.

The car broke the crest of a hill. It was a large car and black as hell with a huge chrome grill that came to a point. The silver grillwork seemed to be grinning at the world. Following this car was another vehicle. This one was a truck. It, too, was painted black, with red splotches of rust covering most of its steel body.

Hosteen Yazzie told his wife right out.

"Some Bilagáana men are coming here to take our daughter away."

"Ha'át áíísh biniiye'! Why! What for?" screamed his wife, her agony showing in every aspect of her face.

The huge black car pulled to a stop. Out stepped two men; one held papers out to the couple. The other made his way towards the doorway of the Yazzie home, while the driver of the truck parked to the left of the hogan.

"You can't go into a man's home without his consent or invitation. It's not permitted," Hosteen Yazzie protested.
"I can do as I please. We have the proper papers and I am the law!"

With that said, the lawman entered the hogan. After a brief moment, he reemerged, a scowl across his face.

"Where is your daughter?" he asked.

Receiving no answer, he asked again. "Where is your daughter, Mr. Yazzie? You can't keep her from us. We have the papers here that say we must pick her up and take her."

Hosteen Yazzie's wife turned and cried in her native tongue to her husband. "Ha'át'sh biniiye'!"

"You will speak in English!" said the Lawman.

"My wife speaks no English and doesn't understand why you are here."

"But you know why we are here. Don't you, Mr. Yazzie?"

Just then the dogs began to bark, drawing the men's attention towards the sound. It was the dogs that gave away Ethel's hiding place. The child had disobeyed her father and crept to the woodpile where she was now attempting to hide beneath the branches and logs of uncut firewood. The animals only wanted to play with her. They meant no harm and yet caused it to come about.

The woodpile wasn't far from where the four stood. The two lawmen ran to the pile of timber with the Yazzies close behind. When they reached the young girl, one of the lawmen started digging into the pile, throwing the wood in all directions, not caring whether anyone got hurt or not. Grabbing Ethel by her arm, he wrenched her bodily out of the darkness where she had tried to find some refuge. The child fought back as he dragged her, kicking and screaming towards the waiting truck. The dogs began to whine and howl, but kept their distance.

To witness this made Ethel Yazzie's mother sick.

"K'adí!" she shrieked. Attempting to shield her daughter with her own body, she was stopped short by a quick backhand from the other Lawman.

"Fuckin' squaw bitch" he spat out as she fell to the ground. "You were told to speak English!"

Hosteen Yazzie fought hard for his family, tearing into the lawmen, hitting them with blows that brought pain to his own hands. The first lawman, holding Ethel's long black hair with one hand, brought his other fist up and with all his strength, hit Hosteen Yazzie in the face. Hosteen Yazzie fell to the earth; his wife half-crawled to him, still screaming K'adí! Stop! K'adí!" But they were no match for these men. And so, with the help of the driver and his partner who jumped out of the truck and joined the scuffle, they finally got the terrified and angry six year old child away from her parents and into the back of the grinning, black and chrome vehicle from hell.

It was then that Ethel saw for herself the other children who were crowded into the rear of the truck. They were all crying, even the older ones. They huddled together, dirty looking and hungry, eyes full of tears which ran down their dusty cheeks.

Triumphantly, The Government Man shouted loudly, "We are taking these children to a school where they will receive a proper education. No longer will the United States Government tolerate you damn Indians. Nor will they tolerate your damn heathen Navajo ways!"

The life of Ethel Yazzie would never again be the same. She was being abducted from her world and thrust into an unknown void of darkness. No longer would it be permitted for the Diné to teach their young of things they considered holy. They would be told that they should forget about Grandfather Horned Toad. There would be no more talk of the mischievous Coyote, Spider Woman, the Holy Twins, or of Giants and Insect People. Above all, the Diné would be told to forget about First Man and First Woman, the Creation Story and Talking God.

Hosteen Yazzie held his wife in his arms, both of them weeping for their child, for themselves and for their people.

As the truck drove off, young Ethel had no idea how long it would be before she would be permitted to see her parents again. She sat in the rear of the truck holding on to the tailgate, breathing in the exhaust fumes along with the dust that the truck left in its wake. As the dust covered her, her tears made tracks down her pretty face as it took on the likeness of the other children who were with her.

In time, Hosteen Yazzie and his wife would grow old and pass on. Ethel would grow up and become a young mother. But it was a hard struggle that awaited her. She looked toward her future, not knowing that this was just the beginning of many misfortunes and adventures that awaited her, as well as the rest of the children who shared the terror of that moment. She couldn't know then, that someday, when she was aged, it would be left to her son to tell of her life and the hardships suffered by the children of the Diné. To put down on paper her life story in such a way that no one who reads it would ever forget her or her parents, Hosteen Yazzie and his wife Betseh Begay - the Children of the Diné.

Michael Nofchissey (Dine) is a member of the Bitter Water and The Towering House clans. A Viet Nam veteran, his published writings include"The Hit Man"; Veteran's Voice Magazine, Alpha Gamma Award and "The Song", New School for Social Research writer's journal, Prema. Michael resides in New York City, where he is currently authoring an historical novel treating the question of identity in a Navajo cultural and historical setting, dating from the Spanish conquest of the Southwest to the present.

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