A PART OF ME OIARRA C. LALIO
2021 RED MESA REVIEW | 22
I remember looking into your eyes, so full of joy to finally have you in my arms. In that moment, I felt it. I felt it come out of me in a place stored away deep within my heart. I haven’t spoken Zuni in years, but in that exact moment, looking at you it came out from deep within. “Hi, Akstiki1” my voice cracking a bit, almost as if I was scared to speak Zuni. They say that once you have a child, a newborn is a part of the K'yabinaho'i until he grows and his soft spot on his skull becomes full cartilage. Your baby knows things already coming into the world from our ancestors, is why they say that an infant knows and understands Zuni once he is born. With that being taught in our culture you would greet a Zuni baby with our Zuni language, the way you would greet an elder. As I was holding you, I felt myself crying. It was all so emotional. Nothing else mattered in that moment, all I knew was that I was going to do it for you. You’re the reason for my being now. It was up to me to show you the ways of life, the ways of our culture, our heritage, what it meant to be Zuni. It was all so scary though, knowing I haven’t spoken my language in years or embraced my culture like I should have been doing. I knew that you were going to be my little Zuni boy. I was going to make sure you will know our culture and our language. It was my time to show you that I know these things as well. It would only be right for me to be the one to teach you our culture. I had a million things running through my mind after you were born and being able to finally hold you and feel your skin on mine. “Hi ak’tsi’ki” I repeated. “Kesh do e’kya?” I say softly, to you. You open your eyes to look at me, and that was your answer, you were saying yes. I couldn’t help but feel like my mother who had passed was right there along our side, sharing this moment with us. She after all is now a part of the kyabinaho’i. This connection that I felt with you, my son, was something I have never experienced in my life before. It was enough for me to change all my old ways of life, even before you were born. Looking back in time, I remember saying “I will never have kids” only because I was too busy with the life I was living
then which consisted of the selfish ways of living, drinking, and doing as I pleased without a worry in the world. In that part of my life, I didn’t worry about my cultural ways. I never spoke my language and I never had any intentions to. I was culturally disconnected during this time and I felt all my beliefs fade. I sometimes questioned myself about traditional practices which I now regret. I cannot help but think of a time when I really let down my father and the things that he did to pray for us, his family. “Dosh da ak’shi deshkwi’kyanna?” My dad asked with a concerned look on his face almost like he was ready to be disappointed. “No” I replied, calmly. He asked in an angry tone “Kop’ladi?” “I have work and I need to spend money for gas, I just don’t think it will work out this year” I replied feeling annoyed, knowing I was in for a lecture from him. “Your boss is a Zuni! She should understand and know what is going on, I don’t see why you just don’t talk to her about it!” I could feel the disappointment and anger in his voice. “I already tried,” I said walking away knowing I was lying. I am very disappointed in myself for letting that happen. Culture is our identity. Why did I choose not to believe anything about who I was? I think about it too often, and it comes back to haunt me, knowing I did wrong by my father and his prayers to keep us all safe and healthy. I really had my life mixed up at this time and I can’t help but feel sorry for who I was a few years ago. But I am lucky and glad that all that has changed. That life is not one that I would never want my son to see. I want him to be proud of his mother, to be able to tell his friends “That’s my mom!” with so much excitement and joy. I mean when they’re teenagers I know that will eventually fade but I’m sure you get my point. I want my son to be able to be proud of where he comes from. Be proud of his people and what we pray and fast for as Zuni people. I wish that my son never loses touch with his culture like I did.
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