In “Lullaby,” Ayah, the Navajo protagonist, faces discrimination and oppression at the hands of white people in power. In flashbacks, she and her husband, Chato, live in a shack “where the rancher let the Indians live,” implying that their presence is tolerated as opposed to welcomed. A white officer delivers the news that Ayah’s son, Jimmie, has died fighting in a war started by other white men, but that they have no body for her to bury—an added indignity that angers her. In addition, white doctors take her two younger children away from her. This event particularly illustrates Ayah’s powerlessness in white society, since her inability to speak English hinders her from understanding that she has signed away her rights to her children until it is too late.
The resentment Ayah feels toward white people is exacerbated by Chato’s attempts to assimilate into their culture by learning English. She hates Chato specifically for teaching her to sign her name, regretting that she didn’t listen to “the old ones” who warned that learning the ways of white colonizers only puts Navajo people in danger. Throughout the years, Ayah takes grim satisfaction when Chato’s loyal work and “fine-sounding English talk” ultimately make no difference in how white people treat him.
Unlike Chato, Ayah does not seek the approval of white people. By freeing herself from the pursuit of this kind of acceptance, she does gain a limited form of power. In the present, she is an old woman who has lost so much that she gains a peculiar kind of invincibility. Confronting a bar full of patrons who look at her with something like fear, she sees what they see: that “there was nothing anyone could do to her now.” With this in mind, the story hints that, though Ayah is forced to live in a racist and intolerant society, she can maintain a certain sense of dignity by refusing to seek approval from her oppressors. Of course, this doesn’t necessarily change her circumstances, but it does afford her a small—but important—kind of personal freedom.
Power, Discrimination, and Oppression ThemeTracker

Power, Discrimination, and Oppression Quotes in Lullaby
It wasn’t like Jimmie died. He just never came back, and one day a dark blue sedan with white writing on its doors pulled up in front of the boxcar shack where the rancher let the Indians live. A man in a khaki uniform trimmed in gold gave them a yellow piece of paper and told them that Jimmie was dead. He said the Army would try to get the body back and then it would be shipped to them; but it wasn’t likely because the helicopter had burned after it crashed. All of this was told to Chato because he could understand English.
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Get LitCharts A+Ayah could see they wanted her to sign the papers, and Chato had taught her to sign her name. It was something she was proud of. She only wanted them to go, and to take their eyes away from her children.
It was worse than if they had died: to lose children and to know that somewhere, in a place called Colorado, in a place full of sick and dying strangers, her children were without her. There had been babies that died soon after they were born, and one that died before he could walk. She had carried them herself, up to the boulders and great pieces of the cliff that long ago crashed down from Long Mesa; she laid them in the crevices of sandstone and buried them in fine brown sand with round quartz pebbles that washed down the hills in the rain. She had endured it because they had been with her.
She hated Chato, not because he let the policeman and doctors put the screaming children in the government car, but because he had taught her to sign her name. Because it was like the old ones always told her about learning their language or any of their ways: it endangered you.
Ayah watched the government car disappear down the road and she knew they were already being weaned from these lava hills and from this sky.
She felt satisfied that the men in the bar feared her. Maybe it was her face and the way she held her mouth with teeth clenched tight, like there was nothing anything could do to her now.