I complained, I hate raisins.
I just wanted a sandwich like other kids.
Well that’s all we’ve got, my mom sighed.
And what other kids?
Everyone but me, I told her.
She said, You mean the white kids.
You want to be a white kid?
Well too bad ’cause you’re my kid.
From Why I Hate Raisins in “When My Brother was an Aztec” by Natalie Diaz
Her critically acclaimed poetry collection was published in 2012
We like to think we have a way with words, but we bow down to Natalie Diaz. The forward from Needles, California, was a freshman headliner at the 1997 Final Four when Old Dominion came just 10 points shy of winning a national title. She was an expressive player, a leader in an era when ODU’s teams were full of nothing but. A fascinating interview, she could fill pages of your notebook explaining the symbolism behind the artistic tattoo encircled on the upper part of her left arm.
She earned her bachelor’s and MFA at Old Dominion and her resume lists a plethora of literary honors, none bigger than the MacArthur “Genius” Grant, a $625,000 fellowship awarded to 25 talents nationwide from writers to scientists to artists. Today Nat, 40, is a poet and linguist at Arizona State University, an enrolled member of the Gila Indian Tribe committed to preserving that culture. She speaks with an eloquence that’s absolutely breathless.
She shared some thoughts with LadySwish about her recent accolade.
What will this grant allow you to do (and a caveat, did you think you had a chance of winning)?
The fellowship is anonymous, so nobody ever knows if they are being considered for it. It was a surprise. Because who would ever imagine that they would receive this fellowship? Also, I hope it gives me time and space to continue building on some of the energies and curiosities I have with the communities I am a part of.
How have you evolved over the years as a writer?
It’s like basketball I guess, you have your strengths, mine was defense, and yet you are always working on some new part of your game. You learn from every game you play, the same way I now learn from books I read and things I write. I’m also a lot more mature and grown up as a writer than I was when my first book came out — I was still learning what it meant to be the writer I was becoming. Now, I know a little more about it all, and yet I’m still becoming.
When you look back at your basketball career and being in the Final Four, what are the dominant memories? Is basketball part of your life at all these days?
Basketball is always close to my heart, especially physically. Ha! I still ache when it is going to rain, in my knees and hips and fingers. I think a lot about jokes with teammates and coaches. About small and large victories we had. I am most grateful for the relationships I learned from and grew from, and I also feel like it prepared me for just about anything. I still shoot a lot. I didn’t realize then but basketball held my anxiety down, and after not playing it for a few years that anxiety kinda ate me up. So one of the ways I smooth myself is to shoot baskets, preferably early in the morning before any anxiety can spark its way into my chest or mind.
And I’m a much better shot than I’ve ever been!