Chinle, AZ

Every day I spend with our elders reminds me why I love  what I do. What inspires me the most is hearing their  laughter and knowing that, even if it’s only for a little  while, I helped brighten their day. There is nothing more  rewarding than seeing someone smile, laugh, and forget  their worries, even for a moment. 

Making a positive difference in the lives of our elders and  individuals with disabilities means everything to me. I  believe respect, love, and compassion are at the heart of  caregiving. When people feel seen, valued, and genuinely  cared for, it shows. You can see it in the way they smile,  the way they open up, and the joy they carry with them  throughout the day. 

Every day I try to create activities that support their  physical, mental, and social well-being. My goal is to help  them stay active, engaged, and excited about life. It isn’t  about simply filling the day with activities, it’s about  helping them continue doing the things that keep their  bodies strong, their minds sharp, and their spirits lifted. 

One activity they especially enjoy is kickball. It’s more  than just a game. It helps strengthen their core, improve  their balance, and keep their muscles moving while  bringing everyone together. We also play table ball, which  builds upper body strength and coordination, and we spend time doing arts and crafts that keep their hands  active while allowing them to express their creativity. 

But if you ask them what they look forward to most,  they’ll almost always smile and say, “Bingo.” 

Bingo is so much more than a game. It’s a chance to laugh  together, visit with friends, tell stories, and enjoy each  other’s company. It keeps their minds active, encourages  conversation, and gives everyone something exciting to  look forward to each week. And of course, they absolutely  love winning prizes. 

One of the biggest challenges I face is helping our  residents believe in themselves again. Sometimes they  think they’re no longer able to do the things they once  could, but I remind them that every little movement  matters. Staying active helps them maintain their  independence, improve their health, and continue  enjoying life. Even the smallest accomplishments deserve  to be celebrated because every step forward is  meaningful. 

I also believe it’s important for our elders to know they  are never alone. There are resources available to help  them, and sometimes all they need is someone who  believes in them, encourages them, and helps point them  in the right direction.

I try to bring kindness, patience, enthusiasm, and  encouragement into everything I do. Celebrating every  success, no matter how small, helps build confidence and  reminds each person that they are still capable, still  important, and still have so much to offer. 

This work has changed me just as much as I hope I’ve  helped change the lives of those I care for. As I grow  older myself, I realize I’m learning alongside them. They  remind me every day to appreciate life, stay active, and  never take time with the people we love for granted. 

I truly believe my dedication, compassion, and love for  our elders can make a difference. Seeing them smile,  hearing their laughter echo through the room, and  watching them enjoy each day is the greatest reward I  could ever ask for. Their happiness is what inspires me to  come back every single day.

— Angela Lewis, June 2026, Chinle Chapter, AZ

Tsé Daa’ Kaan, NM

When I was growing up, we had to fend for ourselves. Our family had livestock sheep and cattle, and we took care of them the right way. We didn’t leave them in one place. In the winter, we brought them close to home. In the summer, we herded them up near the mesas where the grass was better. That was part of taking care of the land.

We didn’t have vehicles back then, only horses and wagons. In the summer, we hauled firewood to prepare for winter. We lived together in one hogan, all of us in one room. There were no phones, no TV. We woke up early every day and stayed busy. There was always something to do.

We didn’t talk about “health” the way people do now but we were healthy. We were always moving, always working outside. We ate what we grew, what we gathered, and what we hunted sheep, deer, rabbits. Everything was prepared from scratch. We knew where our food came from. We even stored it ourselves, using cellars to keep meat from spoiling. There was no junk food back then.

Back then, we didn’t really hear about sickness the way we do now. People didn’t talk about diabetes or high blood pressure. That started to change later, around the 1980s and 1990s. That’s when I began to see more people getting sick.

Even the animals were different. We didn’t hear about diseases like we do today. We lived close to the land, and we understood how to use what it provided.

I remember the Shiprock Fair too. It wasn’t just for fun, it was where people came together to trade. Families brought what they grew and shared with each other. Shiprock used to be known for farming. That’s how we supported one another.

Now things are different. Life is easier, but that ease has changed us. Our children and grandchildren don’t have to move the same way. Technology keeps them inside. Food is ready-made. People don’t always know where it comes from anymore.

And that’s where I see the change in our physical health, in our mental health, and in how families function.

Back then, we were taught to take care of ourselves, each other, and the land. That’s what kept us strong.

That’s something we need to remember.

— Louise Peter, May 2026, Tsé Daa’ Kaan, NM

Twin Lakes, NM

I grew up in Twin Lakes with my mom. We lived with her boyfriend and his family, and we did not have running water. Growing up in that environment was difficult, especially because there were alcohol problems around us. It created challenges and instability, and I had to learn at a young age how to navigate those situations. When someone in our community needed help or had a medical emergency, everyone would go to my mom. She was the one people relied on. My mom took care of everyone, and after she passed, that responsibility shifted more toward my grandmother. Both of them were seen as strong caregivers who helped others even when resources were limited.

When we lived in Twin Lakes, there was no nearby hospital. The closest one was in Gallup, which is about 20 minutes away. If anyone needed emergency services, they had to rely on transportation to Gallup, which was not always easy or fast. Now we live in Shiprock with my grandmother, and we are closer to a hospital, which makes things more convenient. However, even though we are physically closer, the emergency services still seem to be lacking. When you call for an ambulance, it can take hours for them to arrive, or sometimes they do not show up at all. This creates a lot of fear and uncertainty for families who need immediate help.

For example, one time we called the police and ambulance for our neighbors. A girl was saying she was being trafficked, and we were worried for her safety. Despite calling for help, neither the police nor the ambulance showed up. It felt like there was no urgency and that our concerns were not taken seriously. Situations like this make it hard to trust emergency services. People begin to feel like they are on their own and must rely on family or neighbors instead of professional responders.

I would want to see faster response times for ambulances and police so they can reach emergencies more quickly. There also needs to be better communication and more effective planning for emergency services, especially in rural and reservation communities. Right now, it feels like there is no clear structure or urgency when emergencies happen. If you live on the reservation, you often have to accept that help may not arrive in time. Because of this, many families prepare themselves to drive loved ones to the hospital if something serious happens, since waiting for an ambulance may not be an option.

In the future, I hope there will be better communication systems, not only for emergencies but also for leadership, job opportunities, and resources for the community. It seems like for many years there has been a lack of structure and improvement. Even with modern technology, services in these areas have not improved the way they should. Communities deserve better access to emergency response, communication, and support.

I believe it is important to take care of your community and not expect anything in return. Helping others out of kindness and looking out for future generations is something we should all focus on. Even when services are limited, communities can stay strong by supporting one another. By continuing to help neighbors and family members, we can build a sense of unity and responsibility that will benefit future generations and keep our communities safe.

— Julian Franklin, April 2026, Twin Lakes, NM

Naschitti, NM

Our Navajo customs discourage speaking of the deceased to honor their spirit. In the culture, it is believed  with deep respect that mentioning the name of a deceased person can disrupt their journey to the afterlife therefore, only their history that was carryout in our lifetime is written.

My grandfather, born in 1896, passed into the spirit world in 1979 when I was twenty-seven. My grandmother died in 1955, at which time I was four years old. They had four children; one lost their life during World War II before 1940 and another passed away in 1930. My grandfather held a grazing permit assigned by the Office of Indian Affairs, under the U.S. Department of the Interior. In March 1956, this permit was transferred to his two daughters—my mother and my aunt, each receiving a portion. At thirty-one, my mother was gifted a grazing permit that enabled her to raise livestock on the Navajo Reservation, specifying a certain number of sheep units as part of her livelihood.

Since 1956, the land connected to the grazing permit became especially important to her, bringing numerous responsibilities and lessons in ranching. At thirty-one, she possessed extensive experience in horsemanship and sheep herding, using these skills for economic purposes. She played a crucial role in traditional survival, farming vegetables and fruit trees, operating a wagon with horse teams to haul wood and water from the mountains, weaving rugs, and tracking both humans and livestock. As a mother of ten—five girls and five boys—she continued her legacy. At sixty-six, she devoted herself to assisting her husband, a Dine’ medicine man who provided many traditional ceremonies.

In 1991, she passed her grazing permit to her daughter through matrilineal inheritance. The Navajo Nation reassigned the brand, encompassing sheep and a specified number of horses. This land remains vital for grazing livestock and sustaining the family’s livelihood. Sadly, grandma passed in 2010. The natural beauty and historical significance  are deeply meaningful for the To’diko’zi and To’ahani clans who continue living below the beautiful sacred Chuska Mountains.

The family keeps a permanent home in the lower valley of the Chuska Mountains. The sheep camp operates in two locations: one in the lower valley and another midway up the mountain. This rotational grazing system allows the land to recover during summer and winter. When temperatures rise and grasses in the lower region dry out, livestock are moved from Haalghai to higher elevations known as Bii ta’tah. This is where the fun begins riding rams in the sheep drives for taking livestock up the mountains. This tradition has diminished over time, but it remains a notable part of our heritage.

In earlier times, supplemental feeding wasn’t required. When autumn brings steady rain or monsoons in late August and September, herds move to Bii ta’tah, where two fenced pastures await. As the weather changes later in fall, livestock return to the valley.

— Gloria Dennison, April 17, 2026, Naschitti, NM

Dilkon, AZ 

I grew up on my grandfather’s land after my family moved there. It was originally meant to be just a sheep camp, but my parents decided it would be a good place to raise livestock, so that is what we did. We planted our own food and raised animals. We also lived near my mom’s siblings, who were doing the same thing. All of our animals were free to roam and graze on their own. My aunt had many horses, sheep, and other livestock, and she also allowed her animals to roam freely to find water and graze. My mom still has sheep and goats, and currently my brother holds the permit for the livestock. He also has a state permit.

On weekends, we go back to my parents’ home to haul water, clean the corral, and help them with whatever they need. Growing up, my dad was very strict with us. Even though we had running water in the house, he made us take the livestock to the watering hole. He said it was important for us to learn survival skills. My mom, who is the middle child, is the matriarch of our family. Whenever someone has health problems or needs help, everyone goes to her. She keeps track of important information for all her children, including their Social Security numbers.

There is no cell service where we live, which is in a place called Sunflower Butte, southeast of Dilkon. If we need medical help, we have to drive to the hospital, which is about 15 minutes to Dilkon. For more advanced care, we are referred to Winslow, which is about 30 minutes away. From the main road to our house, it is about a five-minute drive, but the road is very rough. We used to maintain it often, but over time people stopped fixing it, so now it is in bad condition.

Because of the poor road, emergency services have difficulty reaching us. In the past, there were discussions about creating a back road to Holbrook to make it easier to access hospitals and essential services, but the project never happened. My aunt did not want to sign off on it because it would affect her grazing area. There was also a proposal to install cell towers to improve emergency communication, but a resident living on top of the mountain opposed it, saying it would be a safety hazard for her grandchildren. As a result, the project was stopped and never reopened. We do not usually prepare in advance for emergencies. Instead, we stay aware and make sure someone is nearby to help elderly family members like my parents. If something happens, we must contact someone close enough to have cell service.

Growing up, we were taught to be self-sufficient. We gathered firewood, tended livestock, and learned how to survive without modern conveniences. Now that we are getting older, it seems the younger generation is less interested in learning this lifestyle. I hope that as they grow older, they realize how important these skills are.

I believe it is important not to forget where you come from and to always put family first. Many people today do not know how to survive without water or electricity, but learning self-sufficiency helps prepare us for natural disasters, especially when living in isolated areas like ours. My grandmother used to tell stories about my grandfather riding his wagon around to help neighbors by bringing firewood, feeding animals, or delivering food. Today, my brother and I try to carry on that tradition. I hope that my younger nieces and nephews will also understand the importance of helping others and keeping those traditions alive as they grow older.

— Ronnie Johnson, April 7, 2026, Dilkon AZ