honor on the eleventh: For Veterans
NAVA: Native American Veterans Assistance
NAVA is a group of Native American veterans taking care of Native American veterans.
The small band of brothers that do this service work are hands-on, boots-on-the-ground, tireless. They are driving hundreds of miles each week across rutted roads to the homes of their fellows. They are fixing stoves, repairing roofs, stabilizing porches. They are arranging health care appointments, driving their fellow veterans to the appointments, collecting and delivering prescriptions. They are laying wreaths at the graves of the fallen. They are bringing coffee and buffalo meat to fill pantries that are bare. They are companioning the lonely, comforting the grieving, feeding the hungry, warming the chilled.
Who could possibly be better equipped to do this work? Who could possibly better know the inherent dignity and rich heritage of Native veterans? Who could possibly better understand the crisis conditions in which Native American veterans live? Who could possibly better serve these honorable veterans than their brothers-in-arms, warriors from their own community?
For some weeks now, I have planned to write about NAVA for my January veterans’ post.
It is, perhaps, no coincidence that their monthly newsletter arrived yesterday. This month’s newsletter focused on their work to provide heat to their fellows. They repair existing stoves, retrofit unsafe stoves, install new stoves, and deliver fuel.
It is, perhaps, no coincidence that I was uncharacteristically without heat today. The region in which I live experienced an influx of polar air today, with high temperatures in the single digits. Normally, this would be only a minor inconvenience to me. I live comfortably with a reliable heat source and can avoid being out in inclement weather by making simple changes to my schedule.
Today, however, I had to exist in the cold in uncomfortable ways. My heat was on, but my front door was wide open all day as workers carried goods in and out of my home for a project. It was so cold. My hands and feet were numb. I was chilled through and shivering. I sat in my kitchen wearing my warmest coat, with my hood up and mittens on. I kept a supply of hand warmers at the ready and used them liberally. One room in the house remained warm, and every few hours I spent a few minutes there to savor the warmth. And at the end of the day, I closed my door. The heat slowly built up. The house became comfortable. I shed my jacket, my mittens, my hand warmers. I ate a warm meal. Soon I will sleep under warm covers. This is a staggering wealth of heat.
This day of heat deprivation - as minimal as it was - helped me walk, very briefly, in another’s shoes. The shoes of a Native American veteran living in the searing cold of the Dakotas. The shedding of my coat, my mittens, my hand warmers was a sad reminder that scores upon scores of Native American veterans do not have coats and mittens and hand warmers to shed. The return to heat at the end of the day was a sad reminder that scores upon scores of Native American veterans do not have that relief. They endure even colder temperatures for months on end, chilled to the bone, numbed.
NAVA is taking direct action to change that. Perhaps you’d like to contribute. You can do that here.
Kind regards,
