Thoreau Chapter
I grew up in Gallup, New Mexico, but my childhood was filled with instability. My sister and I experienced poverty, domestic violence, addiction, and homelessness. Some of my earliest memories are walking through town with our heads down, hoping to find enough money on the ground to buy something to eat. There were times we lived with relatives, in shelters, and even slept in our car.
When I was twelve years old, LDS missionaries came to our home, and I was baptized shortly after. Around that same time, my father returned to our lives for the last time. After a violent incident at home, everything changed. My mother struggled to care for me while we were moving from place to place, and eventually she reached out to the church for help.
Just a few weeks after my thirteenth birthday, I left New Mexico for Utah through the Indian Student Placement Program. I met my first foster family at an ice cream shop in Provo, not knowing that I would spend much of my childhood growing up away from home. Leaving the reservation at such a young age meant I slowly lost my connection to my Navajo culture, language, and identity.
For many years, I carried shame instead of pride. I spent much of my life trying to fit into a world where I often felt different. It wasn’t until I became a mother that I began to recognize how those experiences had affected both me and my children. After years of reflection, I made the difficult decision to leave the church in 2017 and begin finding my way back to myself.
Today, I live in Kansas City, but my heart is still connected to the Navajo Nation. I am reconnecting with my family, learning more about my culture, and discovering what it truly means to be Navajo. Every conversation with my relatives helps me reclaim another piece of who I am.
Looking back, I don’t let my past define me. I survived abuse, poverty, homelessness, foster care, and losing my sense of identity. Those experiences shaped me, but they also gave me compassion for others who are facing difficult circumstances.
If there’s one thing I hope for the next generation, it’s that every child has a safe place to turn. Whether it’s a mentor, a community center, or simply someone who will listen, I believe every child deserves to know they are valued, supported, and never alone.
My journey hasn’t been easy, but it has taught me that healing is possible. I’m still learning, still growing, and still finding my way home.
Verdean B., Thoreau Chapter