She Was Telling It This Way

She Was Telling It This Way


by Laura Tohe

Shimá Shi hoolne`
My mother, she was telling it this way,
as we looked in the stores up and down Highway 66.
We examine basket design and weaving.

The four points represent sacred mountains of the Diné
My grandmother told me that when First Woman,
`Atse` Asdzáán
was making the first basket
she came to the end
and wondered how she should finish it
Haaléit` éego `atso ádiishlíil, jiniiz



We look over the stacks, turning individual ones over,
earthy smells of sand, roots, plants, and water.
Aádóó `áád` bitó iin gad hwi yah ayííhan jini
Ako` ni`jidiit jiní, gad.

We count each of the points and decide which
are the most authentic,
the best quality,
tracing finger over the ridges,
feeling the peaks of mountains and earth in basket form.

Aádóó jini`.
Nt` ` baa` a` hwizhniiz.
Díigii át` áogo doola, doolee
díigii át` áogo atso `ádoolníí.
`Eii béíjiidlaa`jin.
`eiigii át`aogo nizhnítl'`jiní.
When you hang it, the opening should be placed upward.

My eye glides down the vertical opening,
descends into the belly,
into the womb of the earth.

That way good things will pass through the doorway,
that way you'll not enclose yourself, your thoughts, your feelings.
Ch` é' étiin hwii`hól"oacunas."eh.
One should always have a doorway leading from their heart
You see, we cannot permit ourselves to be perfect,
to lock up perfection in anything that we create,
in weaving, making pottery, or even in making bread.
We must allow for our imperfections
We must have a doorway

A doorway, ch`é`étiin,
to bring forth in colors or red, black, and yellow,
health, happiness, prosperity, life.

The Diné woman behind the counter nods.
We leave the store,
into the afternoon light,
brilliant.
A basket securely at my breast.



From Reinventing the Enemy's Language, Joy Harjo and Gloria Bird (Editors), W. W. Norton.
© 1996 Laura Tohe