Woman fights to return to her ancestral home

Ann Aquila sits in front of her tent Wednesday morning along Hwy. 264 in Window Rock as she protests an on-going dispute over her homesite lease. Aquila says she went to the St. Michaels Chapter meeting in July 2002 and the chapter tabled the review of her homesite lease, and no action has been taken since. [Photo by Jeff Jones/Independent]

By John Christian Hopkins
Diné Bureau

ST. MICHAELS — Centuries past, Ann Aquila's forefathers emerged from the shadows of Canyon de Chelly and settled the areas that would become Window Rock and St. Michaels. Now, she fights for the right to return to her family's ancestral lands, near White Water Ridge.

Her foe: the Navajo Nation.

"I'm homeless. I've lost everything," said Aquila. "I have nothing left to lose."

Aquila has a tent set up off Route 264, on empty land between a credit union and a fast food restaurant. A hand-painted banner hangs off the side of her car: "Homesite lease: No, Campsite: yes."

For 10 years she fought to get on the agenda of the homesite lease board to make her case, but, in 2002, when she finally managed it, her case was over virtually before she could speak.

"In 10 minutes they shattered my lifelong dream," Aquila said. They tabled it, and have taken no action since, Aquila said.

One person blocked her way, a woman who invoked grazing rights.

"She doesn't even own any sheep," Aquila said. "Apparently, her family and my family had trouble years ago. She did this just to stop me."

By claiming grazing rights, a neighboring individual can lay claim to undeveloped land, preventing businesses from coming to the reservation or as in this case a tribal member from returning home.

"I was born on that land; my great-grandfather died there. My birthing tree is still standing there," Aquila said. "Being my family's land, I didn't think I'd have any problems. I didn't think I even needed to ask permission, since it was my family's land; but I did."

She said the tribe makes a show of encouraging members to return home but it's all lip service.

"If you know somebody in office, you can get anything. If you don't, you don't exist," Aquila said. She said she hasn't been able to get any delegates to listen to her, no officials to help her out. "I'm mad at the illusions they keep throwing at us."

She's angry and frustrated; but she won't give up. She said she's fighting to return to her home, but also for those who will come after her, those who have moved away for jobs or school and now want to return to Navajo.

"I wasn't the first this has happened to, and maybe I won't be the last," she said. "But I won't give up. I'm fighting for my home. Who knows how many this has happened to. Maybe they gave up; maybe they got frustrated and just walked away. It's not right."

Aquila will leave today, she has some business to attend to in Page, Ariz., but she'll be back later. When the weather warms, she plans to walk from Page to St. Michaels in protest of the way the homesite leases are doled out or kept from tribal members.

She lived in Page for 37 years, but when her husband a non-native passed away, she took a financial hit. Aquila moved to Mesa, where she was burned out and lost nearly everything else she had.

She thought she'd return home, to the land that nourished her ancestors, to the place of her childhood.

"I've tried every channel, every department, the chapter. No one wants to listen; no one will help," Aquila said.

Aquila understands grazing rights are important to many in the tribe, many who still make a living through their sheep; but how, she wonders, can a person who doesn't even own sheep assert such a claim?

"She just wanted to make problems because I wanted the land," Aquila said. "What's more important grazing rights or human rights? I'm homeless, I have nowhere to go."

She has been "house hopping" from one relative to the next, and though she's welcomed by her family, she doesn't want to become a burden, Aquila said. And, most of all, she wants a place she can call home.

Mike Burnside was driving down Route 264 when he spotted Aquila and stopped to offer her some support. He was thinking of trying to get a business site lease in this area, but isn't sure. He knows that grazing rights are often invoked to thwart businesses businesses, he said, that are sorely needed on a reservation where the unemployment rate hovers near 50 percent.

"If we could keep some of that money on the reservation, we could address some of these problems," Burnside said. "But you see it every weekend marching along (Route 264) toward town."

She's had some hard times recently, but that hasn't deterred her, Aquila said. Nor is she seeking a hand-out.

"I'm not just sitting here feeling sorry for myself. I'm pulling my hair out left and right, trying to get back on my feet."

— John Christian Hopkins can be reached at 1-505-371-5443, or by email at Hopkins1960@hotmail.com.