Memories of Allegiance

Kéyah ‘ashdladiingo bił háhoodzooígíí Bidahnaat’a’í shił nilįįgo biniinaa bich’į ‘ádíshní Háálá ‘ájooba’ dóó sih hasin yee hadít’é     I pronounce in clean dialect Shinalí’s spectacles beam     a smile creases up insisting I say more     I stand up front in the living room     Goldberg runs in a nun outfit on television the sound muted     all eyes on me     Reciting the pledge of allegiance in Diné bizaad was the first time I ever felt whole     alive for once my nalí understood me     I made them proud     there was hope for me no one said our language emphasizes abundance     much more than the United States can afford     much more than war language     much more than our recognition Twenty-seven years ago on September 11th we welcomed our cousin sister into the world     Twenty- seven years ago we were not in war     Twenty-seven years ago Bill Clinton was sworn in for a second term Twenty-seven years ago I bounced a basketball into the red earth running leaving footprints of my presence gracing the blue hour     Twenty-seven years ago war lingered waiting for the next frontier Kéyah t’áá si’áá ñt’éé’ ‘Áłáá’ Dine’é yee ‘ahéédahodílzin Binahjí k’é ‘ajooba’ bidziilii bee da’ahíínííta’ this last line lingers     in the dormitory living room all elementary classes gather sitting side by side we watch the news repeating images of a plane crashing into the Twin Towers     in basketball twin sisters tower over the paint stopping all who dare cross them     the coach calls them the twin towers but I never understood what it meant     shoulders ache from playing a vicious round of Rez ball some girls have vendettas and we settle this on the court     bodies colliding     knees scraping pavement     hands and elbows protecting the ball     swinging one elbow toward the gut letting your opponent know you stand on business     competition     when the dormitory staff and teachers whisper they talk about war    war between countries     war already waged     war bringing back grief     war is competition    a one-sided transaction     are we the girls at war?