Going back to school has been an enlightening experience. At the age of 29, I decided to start anew my pursuit of a higher education. I chose a small school that was relatively close to home and offered some of what I was looking for. I thought of small classes and quality instruction, but what I was also looking for was an institution that would allow me to be who I am. When I say that, I think I leave some things open for questioning. I am a Southern Plains Style singer. For almost half my life, I have been enamored of this way of expression through music. But when I came to school, other than when I left school for a pow-wow, I found little opportunity to sing.

At the end of my second semester, I was honored to be asked to pray at our school’s graduation ceremony. And I chose to do the prayer by singing a prayer song in my native tongue, Diné. The song I sang was composed by a man for whom I have a great deal of respect, Mr. Dennis Coan (of the Long Walk Descendants drum). This man, my uncle, uses our language in his songs; I am most honored that he has always been very generous with his songs.

For me this was a validation of my efforts to go back to school. I had made a commitment to continue my education, but at the same time I really missed singing. I had to make a choice; it was go to school and put singing on a back burner, or continue singing and delay school. I chose, of course, to go to school. And let me say that my first couple of semesters at school have been great for me, at least grade-wise. But I still missed that outlet that singing provided for me.

This semester I am carrying 26 credit hours, and one of the classes I enrolled in was called Arts Magazine. In our first couple of classes we discussed what the title and the content of our publication should be; we also discussed what we wanted to put on the cover. It was at one point when we were discussing the cover that my friend Sherry decided to submit a piece of computer-generated art. Sherry can do impressive things with the computer. There was only one thing missing: she wanted a picture of a drum group while they were singing. And she wanted one particular shot.

So a couple of weeks later, after scouring the Internet and trying to take pictures at pow-wows without success, I decided I would recruit some guys from here at school and pose for the picture. At some point I also decided I would teach the guys a song that we could sing, so that we could provide some realism to the picture.

So I called my brothers to the drum. I say “brothers” because any time you come together around the drum, you make relatives. And we started practicing for the picture. I had chosen young men who had shown interest in singing. I also chose men who had some previous singing experience. I, of course, recruited my own family members. As we gathered at the drum, I was amazed to find how easily we got this together. One of the singers, Andrew, surprised me when he told me that he had been singing for only nine months. I was flabbergasted; it took me years to reach the level where he was. Was this young man just blessed with a natural ability to sing?

All of them—Andrew, Thale, Josh, Murphy, and Comell—took easily to the songs and the drum. I also recruited some women: Karen (Andrew’s wife); Pam (an all-around good friend); Millie; Youmee and her daughter Tianna; and my mother, Nora. Also present were Andrew and Karen’s two sons, Pashen and Ethan, and Comell’s son, Cydell.

It was quite a refreshing experience to find nine young people who were willing to learn with the same enthusiasm that I myself experienced when I first began my own journey into the world of Southern Plains Style singing. I could not continue to sing and go to school without the help, support, and prayers of my parents, brothers, and numerous other extended relatives. I should mention that I also have the support of many other friends and relatives (many of them are friends and relatives by choice).

I have to acknowledge the man who made and gave me my drum, Mr. Mike Emerson, of Smith Lake, NM. For years I wanted a drum, and the Creator blessed me with a person who thought highly enough of me to present me with a drum. Mike, shi zhe’e, a’he he! Thank you for this great and honorable gift; you will always be in the thoughts and prayers of my family and me.

I have been fortunate while learning to sing to find many older and wiser singers to serve as role models and teachers. Many of them teach by example while others teach by sitting down and talking to you. There are songs that are almost lost to our peoples save in the memories of these elders. And in order for these songs to continue to exist and be a blessing to the people, they have to be passed on. I have been very fortunate to find people who were willing to share their wisdom and knowledge with no boundaries. And one of the ways of honoring the gifts that they have given me is also to share with no boundaries.

So we gathered around the drum and united our voices in song, and in doing so cemented our relationships as new relatives-by-choice. We were expressing through the songs and the drum our own individual struggles to be strong in a world that is primarily geared toward success using non- native philosophy, techniques, and technology. And so it is that we continue this tradition by infusing it with new strength. Maybe the children of these young men and women will also want to gather at the drum.

Kevin Lossiah is a third-semester applied computer technology student at Crownpoint Institute of Technology in the two-year associate of applied science degree program. He spends much of his time listening to and learning Southern Plains style songs and loves to share his music with others.