Go to the sink, turn on the faucet, get yourself a glass of water. For most people in the US, this sounds like the most routine activity. But for the families I work with on the land of the Navajo Nation in northwestern New Mexico, that’s not something we can take for granted. And so, when water flows from the faucet in the house for the first time, tears often follow it. This is a moment of deep gratitude and joy for us.
To éí ííńá at’é. In the Navajo language, that means water is life. You will see these words painted on our house and graffiti all over the landscape because we understand that life cannot exist without water. In our culture, it is a sacred element, along with Earth, fire and air.
And almost a third of my tribe lacks running water. Pause for a moment to consider what that means. The United States Geological Survey estimates that people in the US use an average of 80-100 gallons of water per day. Our families know how to conserve scarce resources, so we use much less – but meeting basic water needs remains a complex and time-consuming business. Imagine the difficulty of attaching a faucet to a 55-gallon water tank, filling it up, and pulling it inside every time you want to cook, shower, do laundry, or clean the house. Add the cost of buying bottled water to ensure that what you drink is safe.
And then think about the steps to make that possible. Many people drive two hours, twice a month, to the nearest towns of Gallup or Grants to supply them with water. A day or two after the government benefits checks arrived, I saw a familiar convoy of trucks speeding along rutted dirt roads. Usually, two large storage tanks are weighing on their cargo beds, one with water, the other with propane, because we don’t have natural gas here either.
That was not the promise we made when we signed the treaty more than 150 years ago pledging peace with the federal government in exchange for the creation of a permanent Navajo homeland and the basic infrastructure that it request. But broken promises is a longstanding tradition in Indigenous communities and we know how to step forward to do things for ourselves. I am honored to serve as project director for the Navajo Water Project, an initiative of DigDeep, a human rights organization committed to ensuring everyone in America has access to clean water.
The DigDeep plumbing we bring to remote homes in this corner of the state is simple and the entire installation process takes just one day. First, our crew buried a 1,200-gallon tank deep enough into the soil to keep the water from freezing, then technicians repaired a sink, water heater, filter, and drain line. Once the solar panels are placed to power the system, the tank is ready to be filled. That job usually belongs to Darlene Arviso, known to all as the faithful, who drives a giant yellow water truck to the often isolated site. Darlene is a personal hero to me and she’s out there no matter how cold the temperature or how muddy the roads (read about Darlene in this great picture book).
Then there’s just one more step: gather with the family, turn on the faucet, and watch the water flow. Older people, many of whom have never lived with running water in their homes, sometimes seem overwhelmed. There were cheers, applause, and yes, tears. Can quickly put a bowl of water down for the puppy.
Remembering that scene made me optimistic during this terribly difficult year. The importance of clean water has never been clearer than when COVID-19 hit — here we are asking people to wash their hands and sanitize their surfaces, but many lack the most basic tools to do so. so.
In times of pandemic, many of our young people, who have left their traditional lands, lost their jobs and returned home, place more demands on limited water supplies. In the meantime, we have had to pause installation of new systems, though we continue to fill existing tanks and provide some families with 275-gallon, food-grade storage tanks to installed outside their home.
We have also prepared for a new installation when possible and I am proud to say that we are expanding into neighboring areas. A lot of trust-building has to happen as we grow, so we’re working closely with community leaders and agencies that represent local governance in the Navajo Nation. Residents who met us for the first time explicitly questioned our plan and questioned whether we could follow it. Past experiences make them understandably skeptical, but we show ourselves, ask for their support, and tell them we’re here — and that we’ll be back someday. roof.
My family had running water when I was growing up, but many of my friends did not. I want to see that change. My hope is that one day every Navajo’s house will be hooked up to a water system, with indoor plumbing, really good showers, a walker, and a sink. That is what I wish for my tribe and indeed for all people in America. There are two million people without water in this country, most of whom belong to communities of color, low-income communities and tribal communities.
In Closing the Water Gap in America, DigDeep tells the stories of six of those communities and offers an action plan that asks us to re-imagine the solution, deploying resources strategically. strategy, building community strength, and fostering innovative collaboration. Read the plan and consider how a country with so much wealth and opportunity could make it happen.
For many people of color, rural and tribal communities, vital amenities are unavailable, unaffordable, unreliable, and even unsafe. Learn how communities across the country are confronting this issue by building health and equity into three essential utility services.
About the author
