The Flag of My Country = Shikéyah Bidah Na'at'a'í

In Short

Designed in 1956 for adolescent Navajo students entering off-reservation boarding schools, this bilingual primer serves as a pedagogical bridge. It utilizes a simple, repetitive English vocabulary alongside Navajo translations to acclimate students to a new cultural and educational landscape. By linking the imagery of the United States flag to the familiar elements of home, school, and vocational aspiration, the text attempts to harmonize indigenous identity with the requirements of the American labor force. It remains a stark, historical artifact of mid-century assimilationist educational policy.

The Story

The narrative follows a young Navajo boy as he reflects on his place in the world. He begins by situating himself within his home in Arizona, identifying his surroundings as part of the United States. The flag serves as the central anchor of his meditation; when he looks at it, he does not see an abstract political entity, but a symbol that encompasses his mother, his father, his baby brother, and the rhythms of his life on the reservation. He contemplates the sheep he herds, the lambs he plays with, the corn he plants, and the warmth of the sun—all of which he considers to be part of the meaning of his flag.

As the boy’s thoughts shift, the narrative broadens to include his school, which sits far away from his home. He describes the reality of his education, noting that he will attend for five years to learn new things. The story transitions from a reflection on his past and present toward a vocational future. He contemplates potential trades, imagining himself as a carpenter building houses, a painter, a farmer, or a mechanic. The scope of his vision extends to his big sister, who attends school alongside him and explores her own future as a housekeeper, a seamstress, a waitress, or a caregiver for the sick.

The conclusion brings these threads back to the flag. The boy reflects on how this symbol now represents not just the static, traditional life of the reservation, but also the dynamic possibilities of his future. He equates the flag with the opportunities he has been granted: the chance to learn, the freedom to travel away from home, and the ability to choose a career that he enjoys. He ends with a profound sense of integration, asserting that his country is good because it provides the resources and the agency for him to pursue his chosen path, effectively merging the heritage of his home with the promise of his new, broader citizenship.

How It Unfolds

The invocation of identity The boy introduces himself and establishes his geography, connecting his home in Arizona to the larger framework of the United States. He positions the flag as a personal object, a symbol that he claims as his own.

The memory of the reservation He dwells on the sensory details of his life at home, including his family, the care of his sheep, and the cycles of the seasons. These elements are presented as the foundation of his world, inseparable from the meaning he attributes to the flag.

The shift toward education The narrative moves to the necessity of schooling, acknowledging that his education takes place far from his familiar surroundings. He accepts the five-year commitment to learning as a prerequisite for his maturity.

The vision of professional life He articulates a series of potential futures, detailing the vocational roles—carpenter, painter, farmer—that he and his sister might adopt. This section frames labor as the primary bridge between his heritage and his integration into the American economy.

The final synthesis The boy returns to the flag, explicitly defining it as a multi-layered symbol that encompasses both his family roots and his future ambitions. He concludes that his country is a source of opportunity, explicitly stating his satisfaction with this new path.

The People

The narrator is a young, unnamed Navajo boy who acts as the bridge between his ancestral culture and the educational system. He is defined by his capacity for reflection and his willingness to embrace a future that requires him to leave his home. His primary goal is to reconcile the life he knows—herding sheep and planting corn—with the vocational identity he is expected to construct at school.

His big sister serves as the secondary figure, representing the parallel path for Navajo girls within the same program. She mirrors the boy's trajectory, moving from home life toward specialized roles like housekeeping, sewing, or serving as a waitress. Together, they represent the transition of a generation.

The third, silent presence is the Bureau of Indian Affairs. While not a character in the traditional sense, the influence of the Bureau is felt in every line of the text. It dictates the boy's future, the necessity of his schooling, and the nature of the "new world" he is invited to inhabit. The boy and his sister are ultimately shaped by the Bureau’s vision, shifting from children of the reservation into workers within the American national system.

In Its Own Voice

"I look at my flag. I think of my home. I think of my mother. I think of my baby brother."

The narrator begins his meditation by establishing the domestic foundation that informs his understanding of the flag.

"My flag means I can learn many things. My flag means I can learn to do the work I like."

The narrator concludes his reflection by reinterpreting the flag as a symbol of personal agency and educational opportunity.

What It's Really About

The book explores the tension between ancestral tradition and the demands of modern citizenship. At its core, it is an argument for the transformative power of education, presenting the classroom as the essential mechanism for shifting a population from a land-based, subsistence lifestyle to an industrialized, wage-earning one. It asks whether a student can maintain a connection to their heritage while adopting the values of a dominant culture. The book answers this by attempting to fold the traditional aspects of Navajo life—the sheep, the corn, the family—into the American experience, suggesting that these two identities are not necessarily mutually exclusive, but rather complementary parts of a boy's developing world.

Why Read It Today

Readers interested in the history of education, linguistic preservation, or the specific, often stark methods of mid-century government policy will find this book deeply illuminating. It is a slim, repetitive volume, designed for students with limited English, which creates a rhythmic, almost hypnotic reading experience. The emotional tone is one of quiet determination, though the historical context—the forced separation of children from their homes to attend boarding schools—adds a layer of undeniable gravity to every page.

Modern readers should be prepared for the period-specific attitudes of the 1950s; the book reflects the earnest, paternalistic perspective of the Bureau of Indian Affairs, which viewed the complete integration of Navajo youth as an unalloyed good. There is little room in the text for the sorrow of displacement or the cultural cost of this transition. Despite its brevity, the book stays with you because it captures a pivotal moment of cultural collision. It serves as a potent reminder of how language and symbols are used to shape a child’s perception of "country," and how the process of learning a new tongue is fundamentally a process of inventing a new self. It is a challenging, necessary look at a specific era of American history.