Volume 10 Number 3
May 1971

A Story by Melvin Begaye

In FRONT of the Zia Bar there stood a boy. His face was covered with mud. It seemed like he had not washed his face for the past two days. The parents were laying near a bush, and there beside them sat a shining bottle with a black-golden tag on the side of it. He never did worry too much because he was still young, and he failed to recognize what his parents were doing. His parents were not educated. They had been addicted to the alcoholic beverages through most of their life time. He never was able to begin his education. The reason was his parents had very little money to be spent on him.

At home there were not enough sheep to sell, and the goats were not possessing superfluous flesh. Their goats were bony to the hooves; however, their livestock roamed the countryside over a thousand acres. In this area desert plants were mostly yellow throughout the summer season. Also, the bad thing about it was the land had part waste land or the badlands.

For the past two days he had only seen adults coming in and out of the barroom. As they passed him he would ask for a piece of candy or maybe a swallow of that beverage brewed from malt and hops. Some of the unpolite people would glance at him and pass by with mystifying sounds. He was getting hungry for the real food. He would bug his mother to go home and make some fry bread. His mother just slapped him, and told him to go home by himself. Then his father came quickly out of the bar yelling, "Lees go home. The policemen will surround this stinky place and they’ll take anyone that’s hanging around it." These words saved the poor little young lad from starvation. He was starving, and he could not walk home. Before dawn the three headed for a place they called home.

Along the dirt road they tumbled over weeds and cans, and they could not walk straight. They were absolutely in another stage which one would call sobering up. They were trembling like someone who had taken poison. They were thirsty. At each well they would stop and drink over a half bucket of water. This kept on until they got home.

They were shocked when the tent poles on the left side were broken. The father immediately repaired the damage even though he had a hangover. The boy went on digging around for some food. He only dug out a piece of fry bread that felt like the crackers; nevertheless, he crunched up with a soda pop which was bought two weeks ago. The mother unrolled her sheep skin; she bedded down without any remarks.

The next morning they had company from the school. One of the advisory board had came to find out if the boy was ready for school. He was confused and puzzled about what school meant. He thought of it as another bar like Zia. He decided not to go, and he hid behind a large banged-up barrel. His father wanted him to learn the white man’s tongue. His mother also agreed with her husband. The only problems were, he wasn’t old enough, his clothes, and he didn’t know any white man’s language. They made a promise that the boy was to be ready by next fall.

The summer fun passed by like a dream, and September one came. This was the day when all of the B.I.A. (Bureau of Indian Affairs) students report back to school.

The boy was now six years old. His parents managed to buy him some clothes. He was registered at a school near Hogback. He was still puzzled about the word school. The word meant a new phenomenon for him. He realized that now was the time to learn the white’s culture. At first he never did know the meaning of school which is the body of pupils collectively, with their teachers, in an educational institution. It was hard for him to understand the teacher because not a speck of English language or words appeared in his brain.

He called himself "The Ear," and his parents always called him by his Navajo name. In the classroom he found out his English name was Joseph Bradley. He had a difficult time pronouncing his first name. He said it in the same way they say The Way in the Navajo language. He did not quite learn who was the boss. He fought with the teachers.

At one time he knocked his teacher clear out of her chair. He crawled over the desk and jumped right on her face. She screamed and screamed again until the principal came in to break the fight. Instead of Joseph quitting, he kicked the principal’s chin and made him dance the Mexican Hat Dance. He bawled out for help too. The teacher and the principal were hanging on to Joseph Bradley, but still he maneuvered where he banged the challengers heads together. This made the teacher scream as loud as she could; the yell was loud enough to awake the dead.

The echoes sounded through the hallways. It seemed to frighten some other classes. Every classroom of the 14 doors opened, and 14 heads appeared to see what was going on in the hall. There they saw two adults tangling with a puny little fellow. By this time everyone was being annoyed by the harassment.

Finally the echoes reached the superintendent’s office. The superintendent’s secretary heard the squeaky voice from the other end of the building. She naturally didn’t mind noises, but this noise was like the volume turned to full blast on a phonograph when the record "Sugar Sugar" is on it. She went to the door swiftly, and saw a crowd of teachers all jammed up in one big pile. At the moment the only thing she would do is run to the head boss, and she did. As she made her way to the office door, she made a long leap, but she failed to reach the door knob. For a while she lay there trying to get her breath back. She got up, cautiously. She didn’t even knock on the door, but she just passed in. Mr. Peacemaker was sitting at his desk. He did not look up until the secretary yelled, "Teachers are fighting out in the hall. Come quick before someone stabs somebody!"

He questioned, ‘What, Who is doing to each other?" As he said that his wheeled chair rolled under him. He hurriedly got to his feet and screamed down the hall, "Stop it, stop it, I demand everyone to halt!"

The strong, powerful, brawny, voice made everyone silent except Joseph Bradley. He kept on kicking the principal’s chin. The ferocious superintendent grabbed the boy by the collar and jerked him back until he was clearly off his feet. Joseph knew he couldn’t defend himself any longer, so he gave in to the man of powerful physique.

He sat in the comer wondering what would be next. He did not understand the English language. He saw only the lips of the superintendent. In the way of his superintendent’s hand waving, he understood some of it. He wasn’t quite sure he had done the right thing. He was also punished for the cruelty he had done. Every night he stood with his hands up in the air for nearly an hour. The punishment lasted two weeks.

After that month he gradually noticed that the teachers were his new guardians in the classroom and dorm advisors at the dormitory. He discovered an entirely new way of life where he had to make decisions for himself. He recognized why his parents wanted him to learn white man’s tongue. He was not considered a civilized Indian.