Two
years ago, David Mazor dropped me off three hours west of Albuquerque, a mile
and a half up in the high desert. It rained that evening. It was quiet, and the
air smoldered with the smell of sage. I'd asked David a hundred times that
summer what I would do here. He said that I'd find out when I came. I'd listen
and I'd know.
To my last day, I
couldn't really tell you what my job was. My business cards say "Navajo
Nation Outreach Coordinator." I didn't know that I'd:
- witness a dozen
students improve their creative writing through our weekly Writers' Workshop
meetings and celebrate their progress with a year-end, well-attended CoffeeHaus
- raise average
school-wide ACT scores from 25% below NM and AZ state averages to above state
and national averages
- watch an endless
stream of books and resources from Reader to Reader fill classrooms and
libraries
- travel around the
Navajo Nation with the Office of the First Lady to deliver college readiness
materials and addresses
- work with the
incredible board of the Miss Navajo Council, an organization that mobilizes
former pageant winners to give back to their communities
- learn to make frybread
(poorly)
- watch my freshmen grow
in their writing abilities and put together a magazine of their work
- prepare my shyest
students for scholarship interviews
- take the Writers'
Workshop to hear writing advice and performances by Luci Tapahonso, Navajo
Nation Poet Laureate
- see 97% of SMIS' class
of 2014 go on to college
- grow to love those
seniors like my own siblings
- and be heartbroken to
see them go
... and much more.
My last two years with Reader
to Reader won't be my last in the Navajo Nation. Through working with Reader to
Reader, I've become interested in ethical, efficient management. This fall, I'm
headed to the Yale School of Management to get an MBA with a focus on social
enterprise and nonprofit management. After my program, I plan to return to the
reservation and work on a project to improve food sovereignty. There - now that
I've said it, all of you can hold me accountable.
This post is more about
me than I would've liked. Still, it's hard to extricate myself from my last two
years. On some level, I want to talk strictly about the honor it has been to
represent Reader to Reader in what has become my surrogate home, and what more
we could watch unfurl and progress. But that wasn't all. It hasn't become a
home because of improved statistics and partnerships formed. We shared a
mission, and we fought for it, and we grew to love and respect each other because
we did our best to listen. After all, that was my first instruction on the job.
The Navajo Nation is
often characterized by poverty and hardship, but that's merely one facet of a
diamond. I'm learning to listen, and in these last two years, that listening
has allowed me to witness the intense dedication and talent of others, and to
learn more than I thought possible. Every day, I'm humbled anew.
On my last night, my
friends and I slept on the roof of our trailer. We had unexpected company -
friends from over the hill. They talked, and we listened. We talked, and they
listened. It grew late, and wind rattled the brush. Our dogs howled and took
off across the field, and the cows lowed. A mile and a half closer to the
stars, am I any closer to hearing supernovae? Three hours west of Albuquerque,
does the universe seem silent, or can I incline my heart to the glory of stars
being born, of giants rising, of light unceasing to illuminate the darkest
corridors?
--Ophelia Hu
