Mylo Fowler sees the world through many lenses. His strength of character and sense of responsibility are reflected in all aspects of his life: his work as a photographer, mountain biker, Navajo community organizer, and father.
I was always outdoors. It was a part of everything we were.
A lot of that had to do with the responsibilities that I had as a little kid: herding sheep, tending to the chickens and pigs, and twelve acres of land, where we grew corn, squash, watermelons. Essentially, everything that we ate came from outside the front door.
I think some of my early childhood memories were with my grandma going out into the field. I remember my grandma was small, probably under 5ft to be safe. And she had this little machete knife. And I remember her showing me how to pick a watermelon when it’s ready.
I remember going to a grocery store for the very first time. I had no idea what it was. My mom and I went in, and she asked me to get four ears of corn. And I was like, “What? There's corn growing here under this building?”
I saw everybody grow everything they ate.
And so, I went to find this store employee and said, “Hey, I've got a really weird question for you. My mom said, I need to get four ears of corn. Do you guys have a field back here?” I was so used to having to pluck them myself, checking which ones were good, which ones were not. And he takes me to this bin, and he says, “Here you go”. I was shocked. And that was when reality hit in. I remember going back to my mom and asking “Wait, people can just come here and buy their food?!”
We had a very small home with my grandma, my grandpa, on my mom's side of the family. And the responsibilities were always outside. I had the great fortune to have my great grandmother living right next door to us.
In our language, hospital is “the place where the medicine is made, the place where the healing happens.”
My great grandmother used to say that, for us, that has always been out here, in nature. You mix this plant with this one, you will be able to heal yourself. She would also say that we are each other's medicine, so in some way, we are always the healer for somebody else. In Navajo we always introduce ourselves by saying “Yá’át’ééh shik’éí dóó shidiné’é” which in English would be “hello, my relatives and my people”. It implies that there is no line that says, you are over there and I'm over here. There is no separation.
In the same way, my biking, my photography, and everything else are very connected. The bike actually helped me navigate the modern world and retain the culture and the stories that we have. Through a bike, I’m able to be in nature and to absorb more of what can be felt there.
Waking up early in the morning, you face the East. You wake up before the sun. You yell into the nature and say, “I am here. Don't be afraid of me.