Would Arizona's Prop. 203 Silence Navajo Tongue?
WINDOW ROCK, Ariz. -- I was driving near here last week, barreling toward Colorado, when I tuned in KTNN, the radio voice of the Navajo. I heard a smattering of English. I heard country-western tunes. Then this from a station announcer: "Now for the news . . . " The announcer began speaking in Navajo. The latest headlines, in Navajo. A calendar of events, in Navajo. Then the station played traditional Navajo songs. Some 250,000 people live on the sprawling Navajo reservation in northeastern Arizona and parts of Utah and New Mexico. And many speak the local tongue, learning it from the crib. No wonder there's such concern here over Tuesday's election. That's when Arizona voters will weigh Proposition 203, which would dismantle bilingual education programs in the increasingly diverse Grand Canyon state. Arizonans can thank -- or blame -- a Californian for this. Silicon Valley millionaire Ron Unz, who co-sponsored a similar measure that passed in California in 1998, is the chief cheerleader of the pro-Proposition 203 campaign. The initiative would end bilingual programs in Arizona public schools, and place children with limited English skills in one-year English immersion classes. Many Latinos and others, however, are outraged. Some call it a cultural affront. Others say there's no proof that immersion is more effective at teaching English. In short, the debate echoes what California went through two years ago. Except for this cultural twist: Arizona is full of Window Rocks -- Navajo towns, Hopi villages and other communities that go back hundreds of years and have enduring mother tongues. Many Navajo say the Unz measure would spell the end of bilingual programs on reservation schools aimed at saving their language and culture from extinction. "I want my children taught in the language of our home and our community," says tribal member Lorna Sherman, who lives in Fort Defiance, near Window Rock. As many as 10,000 Navajo schoolchildren would be directly affected by the measure. And hurt, argues Wayne Holm, an education specialist with the tribe. "We want children to learn English. We want children to learn the best way they can," he says. "But this is not done by suppressing other languages." Tribal elders already worry that their children are culturally adrift. Like many parents, they fear the influence Hollywood and the Internet has on their kids. It's not unusual to spot satellite TV dishes, even in some rural areas of the reservation. That's all the more reason, they say, to keep bilingual education alive, to help sustain their culture. "For immigrant groups, there's always a homeland where their language is spoken," Holm says. "But this is the Navajo homeland. Navajo is not spoken anywhere else." In recent days, backers of the Unz measure have said that tribes would be able to continue their language programs because reservation sovereignty would override the proposition. Tribal leaders aren't convinced, however, noting the measure targets all state-run public schools in Arizona. To them, it's not just the mother tongue they speak. It's considered something sacred. A Navajo newspaper recently labeled the language "God's gift." Navajo cops speak it on the beat. Clerks speak it in stores. KTNN uses it, in between country-western songs and commercials. Now if they can just keep it in school. Steve Schmidt can be reached at (619) 293-1380 and at steve.schmidt@uniontrib.com |