H A S T I I N
C H ’ I L T A A J I N I ’ S
P R A Y E R
A B O U N D S
Circling down that dying gusty breeze of the past, Hastiin Ch’iltaajini whispers, “Soar high on my prayer”.
Sift colored sands intricately from your gentle fingertips and keep the everlasting flame of the ancient fire
burning, beyond the completion of each ceremonial sandpainting.
As you ascend high, among flying spirits, run with my shield through the front line. And in time, celebrate your
victory with my valor, for it is your birthright.
Bless yourself with heat of the rising steam and partake of the hearty corn meal in reverence, my progeny.
Rise from the abyss of the Anasazi cultural hearth. Stay abreast fast-paced, rich changes. Progressing subtly,
characterize a unique and significant existence of the Din4 heritage.
Your ancestors, the conquistadors, the era of bilagaana, and I, have passed on by like a dream.
Proceeding Hw44ld7 I restored the Din4 nation to its root in Mother Earth’s gentle palm. Now they remain in the
homeland ever so secured. The tears of the elderly may have subsided with ebbing strength of happiness,
but, do not forget their tears still flow, harmonizing with the river to pulsate the breath of life on earth
My immortalized legacy is serene, indeed. I stand in sweet celestial contentment, among the Spirits above, for
you are avowing the sovereignty of the proud Din4 nation among world nations.
Soar high for me, high on my prayer. Search the past and tell me, my lovely Emissary came in audacity.
Ch’ik66h Naalchi’7, hait’4ego sh3’ n47’1jooba’, k’4 bi[ nihidin4’7 bee b7tah n7sin7y1?
(My lovely Emissary, how did you survive with a gentle spirit among kindred hearts of the Din4
people?)
I saw you last turning to run with the children, pledging a promise to me, “We are longing for shelter from all
that we see. Keep my faith. I will secure my people, look beyond the clear skies and gaze at the bright
stars in my heart ‘til you’ve replaced it with the innocuous Sun.”
Soar high, again on my prayer. Find the truth of the past and tell me, my victorious Warrior came in decorum.
Hashk4 Yik’4desdlii’i, hait’4ego sh3’ n47’1jooba’, k’4 bi[ nihidin4’7 bee b7tah n7sin7y1?
(My victorious Warrior, how did you survive with a strong spirit among kindred hearts of the Din4
people?)
I saw you last on holy grounds, among pollen of the flora and substance of fauna, moving with droplets,
pledging a promise to me, “I’ll defend the wilderness of sacred peaks with great intensity. Keep my
faith. I’ll armor the Din4 people when I hear their prayer calling from the foothills. Feel my shield as
they walk on fields between shimmering peaks, for the Din4 nation will attain social justice, civil liberty,
while the bigoted human heart expires.
Soar high on my prayer. Come to terms with the past and tell me, I came in defiance.
Sh7, H1st99 Ch’7ltaajin7, 47 sh4’ajooba’, k’4 bi[ nihidin4’7 bee b7taa’s4y1.
(I, Hast88 Ch’iltaaj7n7, survived with a kind spirit among kindred hearts of the Din4 people.)
You saw me last, in the indestructible White Shell fortress, Ch1nah Haz32gi, holding steadfast to my scepter,
pledging a promise to you, “I’m lifting your spirit. Mount high and ride the dark wrath of approaching
storms in life into vibrant colorful sunrays. Keep my faith. Sacred Horses of Color will carry you
forward ‘til spiritual voices strengthen your cultural integrity. It’s time, your turn has come.
Y1 1[n77d00 l99’ dootl’7zhii shi[ siz9, n1.
(I rode the Turquoise Horse to the highest peak of the universe for you.)
Y00lgai, dootl’7zhii, diich7[7, d00 b11shzhinii s11d [99’ b77n47 b77 diists’33’. Shich’9’ 7n7.
(White Shell, Turquoise, Abalone and Obsidian voices trumpet in my horse’s neigh, calling victory.)
K0d00 h0zh0 n1h1sdl99’d00 n7naan7d1adoo.
(From here will be harmony. Prevail.)
---Nora Young
Window Rock Elementary School – Dine Language and Culture
White Sands 1943
From the Creation Sto ry 1958
gilpin_sunrise
Colorado ca. 1926
Mesa Verde National P ark 1924
Drilling deep underground
1953
Photography work of the Dine
people during European contact and
after is evident of institutionalized
discrimination by the United States,
its historians and photographers. I
defy the composed vintage pictorial
collage of Gilpin’s work (which I feel
was done with a discriminative
angle through lens layered with
institutionalized prejudice) with the
portrait of Hastiin Ch’iltaajini. For his
profile challenges and contradicts
the degrading thematic portrayal of
the Dine people as a poverty
stricken society. Sweet hope in
defiance, its ultimatum is motivating.