Almost Home...

My name is Deborah Veres Eriacho. I am Navajo, and living on the Navajo Nation in Fort Defiance, Arizona. I have 3 children at home with me at the ages of 9, 10 and 11: Kimmie, Kody, and Keeka. They were not mine by birth, they’re my own flesh and blood left behind by my cousin and her spouse, who passed away much too young due to complications as a result of drug and alcohol addiction. I took it upon myself in financially easier times to step in and be the mother and only parent the youngest two needed at a very young age, and their older sister has since come to stay with me. My home is their chance for a stable life, and as of now it is in jeopardy.

As I listen to the rain fall softly on the lilac bushes we planted years ago, I can’t help but reflect on what has led me to take one of the most humiliating steps I’ve ever taken since I was a dumb punk kid. My heart bleeds over the potential loss of the home I raised three beautiful daughters in, who are now lighting out to start their adult lives. It bleeds for Kimmie and Kody, dreading that they may lose the only home they have ever known as well as the only stable ground they’ve been able to walk on in their young lives. It bleeds for myself as well: I have planted, built, and cultivated the land and the home to make it a haven, somewhere to truly call home.

I know so many people who have suffered worse losses than material ones. We’ve lost sons, daughters, parents, aunts, uncles and so on before it should be their time to go. It’s inevitable when you’re Navajo to experience these losses many times over before the age of 40, and it’s no secret that this is the case: Native Americans, especially those of us living on the Reservations, are continually statistically shown to be suffering the worst economically and healthcare-wise in this country. We have survived hundreds of years of attempted genocide, but of course the effects linger. And the opportunities here are few and far between.

When I take time each day to count my blessings, I am highly aware of the opportunities I took full advantage of in hopes of a better life for myself and for my children. It may seem silly to some that I would take such extreme measures to save our home, but it’s not. See, I was one of those Indian kids sent off to boarding school with my little brother. We were 5 and 6, entering kindergarten and 1st grade. After that, we lived in various Mormon foster homes until the 7th grade. We didn’t know our father until I was in the 9th grade, my mom called him because our stepfather was so abusive toward us that she couldn’t keep us safe so we went to live with him. From there, I pushed and pushed, did what I had to do to get a Master’s degree. As an educated young Native American woman, I did everything in my power to make sure my children would never be or feel “homeless” or feel the unsteadiness I had to deal with at a young age. Therein lies the reason I have planted roots so deeply (literally and figuratively) in this place we call home. 

To assure my kids would have a happy and healthy upbringing, I’ve worked and been successful in various fields and was an owner of a million dollar company for several years. I have 25 uninterrupted years of sobriety thanks to traditional ceremonies, Alcoholics Anonymous, and this commitment to my children. I am a very capable, personable, and intelligent person who has overcome so much and thrived in the world. 

Unfortunately though, as will happen, we lost the business and since then I’ve been doing anything I can to provide the necessities for my children. I’ve been working as a substitute teacher in a failing school for 2 years. We stripped our lives down out of necessity: we’ve not had cable for 2 years, Internet is a spotty luxury and my kids wear hand-me-downs from their sisters. Gainful employment is very hard to come by out here, even for someone as educated as myself. Despite the work I was doing, I still fell behind in July of 2015 due to lack of funds, and while I have paid what I can, it was not sufficient in my creditor’s eyes. The foreclosure process is in its final stage, leaving my kids and I on unstable ground, a horrible and devastating yet not unfamiliar feeling. I received a letter dated July 29th that stated as of yesterday, they could come in any time and seize my home from me.

I am taking one final plunge through "gofundme" to save our home. I purchased it in much better times for $265,000 dollars. I currently owe $131,000.00, having paid over half of its price off. I’ve been in contact with my creditors and they will not accept anything but money to save our home. I am ashamed to admit that I have no other options than this. I have paid a hard-to-come-by $9,000.00 dollars to my mortgage company since March, but they have stated this is not enough to keep us in our home. I am currently $12,000 behind but have reached a number of nearly $5,000 from folks pitching in and from selling stuff we don’t necessarily need, so I’ve made progress but I still have a long way to go.

I have suffered greatly from depression and anxiety after my marriage ended and the company I spent years building failed. At this point I realize that I need help and I am finally reaching out in hopes that complete strangers will lend a helping hand to my family. I have been and am still selling our belongings attempting to raise money for our situation. I am losing hope as I get letters and phone calls stating 21st Century's intent to sell my property leaving us homeless as there is little chance I will be able to purchase another home or find housing on the Navajo Nation. There is already a huge housing shortage here. As a result of good mental health services through our tribal offices, my anxiety and depression has turned a corner towards health, and losing our home at this time would be a terrible set back. 

Time is of the essence. The fight to end this nightmare continues as my eldest son Michael, younger brother Jacob, and younger sister Lynnette have vowed to help me do what has to be done to save this place called home. I just opened up to them yesterday because this has been so mortifying and embarrassing but we’re all working as one to hopefully get this done now! 

My fear remains high, my agitation is contagious, but maybe today, my faith will rise. Please consider my plea as a worthy cause despite my struggles. Thank you to those who’ve donated and thank you to those who visited my home with a monetary gift and/or encouragement.