If the older we get, the wiser we become, then at millions of years old, the Grand Canyon is brimming with life lessons. Nikki Cooley, a Diné woman and former Grand Canyon and San Juan river guide, says the Grand Canyon can teach us not only about the resilience of a place, which has nourished plants, animals, and people for long periods of time, but also the resilience of a people — the Native peoples who have lived in the Grand Canyon for millennia but were forcibly removed and relocated by the U.S. government.
Today, 11 tribes maintain cultural connections to the Grand Canyon. Their stories stack up as high as the mile-deep canyon itself — stories of movement and migration, hardship and struggle, origins, reverence, and awe. But rarely do tourists hear firsthand from the people whose cultures, worldviews, and livelihoods are inextricably tied to the Grand Canyon region.
Here, Nikki Cooley (Diné), Loretta Jackson-Kelly (Hualapai), Jim Enote (Zuni), Leigh Kuwanwisiwma (Hopi), and Coleen Kaska (Havasupai) share what the Grand Canyon means to them and what they know in their hearts to be true.
Co-manager for the Institute for Tribal Environmental Professional’s Tribes’ Climate Change Program, and Recovering Grand Canyon River Guide
DEIDRA PEACHES
"I am from Shonto and Blue Gap, Arizona. I am of the Towering House Clan, born for the Reed People Clan. My maternal grandparents are of the Water that Flows Together Clan, and paternal are of the Manygoats Clan. That is how I present myself as a Diné woman.
The Diné, or more commonly known as the Navajo, originate from within the Four Corners area, within the four sacred mountains. When we are born our parents bury our umbilical cord in a place, such as the sheep corral, or the cornfield, or maybe near the San Francisco Peaks (Dook’oo’słiid), in order to keep and maintain that connection we have to the land. To remind us that the land is very significant and that we’re not a separate piece from it. I know that’s why I’ve always returned home having lived elsewhere for a number of years. I feel a longing to be there, because my umbilical cord is buried in the sheep corral in Shonto. It runs through my veins.
The Grand Canyon is a very spiritual place for the Diné. The waters that run through it, into it, those are often viewed as the lifelines of Mother Earth — the same way the blood lines run through our human bodies. That’s where a lot of our deities live, so there are a lot of ceremonies that are conducted there and prayers offered in respect of it.
It depends on who you ask and what region you’re from, but I generally refer to the big Colorado River as the male river, the raging, big, and intimidating figure. And the smaller rivers, like the Little Colorado River and the San Juan River, are considered the female rivers. They’re the soft, gentle, calming counterpart. But in general, all waters are referred to as being female as they give and sustain life. The confluence is where the male and female rivers meet, and together, they go downstream to nourish the rest of the canyon and its residents, the flora and fauna.
Tó ei iiná, water is life. We’ve heard that term many times and we should hear and say it even more, because without water, we cannot simply survive.
As an Indigenous woman, I truly believe that the Grand Canyon and the Colorado River can teach the human race about the resilience of a place that has been continually impacted by natural changes and by mining, recreation, and the growing political wars over the waters. But also remember this place can teach us about the history of a people who were trying to just survive — the Navajo who used this as a place to hide so they could survive the hunting from the U.S. government who were trying to relocate them. It’s a place of resilience in more than one sense. It’s a very strong spiritual place that we should respect, especially keeping in mind that the original inhabitants, the five-fingered beings, and the animals and plants still reside there. Every time humans go down there to recreate or research, we are going into their home and we should be respectful. Indigenous people still live down there, and those who live above the rim still call the Grand Canyon their home and spiritual place. Let’s work together to keep the Grand Canyon from any more intrusions and keep giving it the respect it deserves.”
Former Tribal Historic Preservation Officer and Director
DEIDRA PEACHES
"My name is Loretta Jackson-Kelly. I am a Hualapai tribal member with the Hualapai Tribe. My Hualapai name is Ha’Ka’Ama’ Baqui, which means “river woman.” I am from the band of Hel: Ba’Ja (Milkweed Springs) and Ha’Ka’ Sa’ Ba’Ja (Sulfur Hot Springs), and I’ve lived here on the Hualapai Indian Reservation most of my entire life.
Our ancestral homelands encompassed 7 million acres of northwestern Arizona before the coming of the Anglos. We traversed from area to area, utilizing the natural resources for food, for medicine, for housing, for trade. And within the 7 million acres there were 13-14 bands of Hualapai people, or Pai, or Ba’ja, which means “the people.” Each band was named after a unique resource within their territory.
Since time immemorial, the Colorado River and the Grand Canyon have been a very important link to our existence, to the time of our creation. We always payed homage and respect to the river, because the river is a healing body of water, and when you say your prayers and you wash yourself with the water source, you’re giving yourself very many blessings as well as letting go of all the negativity that might be building up around.
Our river, the Colorado River, is called Ha’Ka’Ama’, and the middle of the river is called Ha’Yi-₫a₫a, which means “the backbone of the river.” Without the backbone, people cannot survive. We have to say our prayers in order to be able to coexist and visit here. When we get to the place, we clap with sticks and say “Yu’Chi’ Yah,” which means “I’m coming,” or “We are coming. We are here.” You’re telling the spirits that you’re here and have no ill will toward anything around you, that you’re going to respect the land that you walk on.
There’s a lot of respect that you have to show, listening to the river, listening to what’s speaking from the rocks, from the plants. This is our world. This is everybody’s world. And we all have to help each other in taking care of the world.”
CEO of the Colorado Plateau Foundation
DEIDRA PEACHES
"I’m Jim Enote. I’m Zuni, and I’m a member of the Corn Clan. My mother is Corn Clan, and that makes me Corn Clan. Anyone I meet who is Corn Clan means that sometime a long long long time ago, we had the same great-great-great-grandmother.
The Zuni people call ourselves A:shiwi. The Grand Canyon is the place where A:shiwi emerged from the inner parts of this world to the surface. We call this place Chimik’yana’kya dey’a. It was there that we greeted the Sun Father for the first time. After living in the Grand Canyon for many years, we eventually began to explore the tributaries of the Colorado River, living throughout the Colorado Plateau, learning and living and raising families, then eventually settling here in the Zuni Village, along the upper reaches of the Little Colorado River. But we have never forgotten our origins. Our prayers, our songs, and our ceremonies, refer back to where we came from — Chimik’yana’kya dey’a.
The Grand Canyon, especially from Lees Ferry to Phantom Ranch, is dense with Zuni sacred places. Some that are really important are near what is called Supai Man, where there is a directional marker carved into a slab of stone pointing towards Zuni and a path out of the canyon. At Unkar Delta there are ceramics and water control features exactly like the ones we have here in present-day Zuni. Along the river and throughout the canyon there are many springs, where we still gather water to bring back to Zuni for ceremonies. There are dozens of places in the canyon, where we collect salt, willows, reedgrass and other plants, as well as mineral pigments.
The Grand Canyon is one of the most elemental places on Earth. When there, you are down deep into the womb of Mother Earth. And also, it’s a liquid place. There’s water there. It’s like the womb of Mother Earth. And from there, everything is up. Everything from the bottom of the canyon is an ascension. When you climb out, you’re entering a new world. And you’re going from that elemental, primordial place to where we are now in modern times.
A journey to the Grand Canyon is like a visit to see a common mother and the place where you and all of your surrounding kin, friends, and everyone else in Zuni were born.”
Retired, Former Director of the Hopi Cultural Preservation Office for 30 years
DEIDRA PEACHES
"My name is Leigh Kuwanwisiwma. I’m from the village of Baccavi with the Hopi Tribe in Third Mesa.
The Hopi Tribe is located in northeastern Arizona, and Hopi, I believe, is really among the oldest of ancient cultures here in North America. Our history goes back to creation.
We’ve been here for about 1,000 years in our present Hopi villages. But beyond that you have thousands and thousands of ruins that the Hopi consider their footprints. You see them everywhere. And with that, we have our identity as being people who had to go on these migrations and experience hardship. But out of that, we earned the right to be stewards of the Earth, and that’s what we consider ourselves to be.
The Hopi are taught that we traveled through four stages of life, which are still remembered vividly in our rituals, though songs and clan traditions. And finally, we emerged here, into the Fourth World. They say we emerged from the Grand Canyon at a place called Sipapuni, which is the path to the underworld. And from there we emerged to this present world.
Eventually we will travel into the spiritual world. When that happens, a spirit travels to the Grand Canyon, particularly around the area of the confluence, which is home for our ancestral people and the spirits. And from the Grand Canyon, the spirits travel throughout the world as clouds. So every day they are with us. When we see a cloud, we are told to revere them by not directly looking at them, because they are the spirits of our ancestors.
For visitors coming to the Grand Canyon, particularly for the first time, you see how monumental it is. The expanse of the canyon, the way it affects you. You just get swallowed by the canyon. And I think it just challenges yourself, like gosh, how could this be? How could this be part of our life? It’s gorgeous and so huge, and all of the animals — bighorn sheep, deer, cougars, wild burros — down there. I think when people go there, they need to take a big breath and look out over the Grand Canyon, and also honor it. Because for the tribes around here, including the Hopi, it is very special to us. I think it’s really an honor to be able to go and visit the canyon.”
Former Havasupai Tribal Council Member
DEIDRA PEACHES
"My name is Coleen Kaska, I’m a member of the Havasupai Tribe. My people call the Grand Canyon Waam böd jwogo, which means “where the train stops.” We’ve had different names for the canyon region and area. We’ve been restricted away from this area for over 100 years now.
The Havasupai people right now reside on the reservation, which is 50 miles west of Grand Canyon Village. But this whole area is aboriginal territory for the Havasupai people, my people, Havasu ‘Baaja, which means “people of the blue-green waters.” This whole area belonged to them, my ancestors. My tribe has lost millions of acres, which includes all the plateau lands up here, including the Grand Canyon National Park.
When you are hiking into our village or flying in, you will not see any water source. But when you get down to the bottom, what do you see? You smell all the vegetation. You smell the water. You smell all those native trees in the village. And you see the river right by you. It’s just beautiful. People go down to the village of Supai to see the waterfalls.
Water is everything for my people. We use it for cooking, drinking, washing clothes, for our animals. Most people have their horses and wildlife they have to feed and water. And every day, living, washing, showering, bathing, and then farming as well.
The water has its own source, its own running way, its own nature. It does not belong to anybody, it belongs to everybody. Water is very very important. It’s our survival. When I say that, literally for my people, it is the survival of my people.
I want people to know that Natives are still around, it’s just they’ve been restricted from the area of their roaming grounds. But they are still in the region. And they will never forget. I will never forget. I will not stop talking about my people.”
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