Observations of Columbus Day have split in to two camps: One of celebration and one of mourning. Those celebrating the discovery of the “new world” – which tells you exactly for whom it was “new” – and all the richness of progress the Americas have made for freedom, independence and equality for all. As long as “all” of you are Christian god-fearing, land-owning white males. But, you have to start somewhere. The other camp is one of sadness and anger, mourning the deaths of innumerable people, the loss of culture, land, and marginalization of a slow-burning American holocaust.
One cannot deny the contributions to the story of humanity the Americas have made. Out of the post-colonial western hemisphere have come people of ingenuity, compassion, sacrifice, and courage. Some music, art, science and ideals of liberty and freedom are uniquely American and invaluable today. Of pre-colonial Americas, we know little about. Which brings me to the other camp…
History is written by the victors, and the survivors whom the conquering have not yet silenced. Some indigenous peoples of the “new world” were wiped out – not just killed off by disease or violence – but erased from history. Of those that remained, their cultures have been mixed up and caricatured. They have been removed from their ancestral homelands, and had tribal governments gutted and replaced over and over because they were not “friendly” enough to the assimilationist interests of colonizers.
The scars on native America are so deep, so ugly, that they cause some observers to turn away the critical eye and instead fantasize about pan-Indian ideals, or co-opt what is found comfortable or novel. The very notion of what it means to be native has caused once united peoples to turn on themselves, challenging who is, and who isn’t part of the tribe.
With both camps having some truth, and as each clamors for the spotlight today, I instead choose to acknowledge the courage and sacrifice that native peoples have made in making America what it is. It is easy to forget that all the “Indian names” of places scattered around the country came from somewhere, that the different tribes were actually different cultures, and that many of them are still living, still native, today. Every year, then, I shall acknowledge the people that have shaped native America. I will praise those who, in the tumultuous post-contact years, have been examples of courage, ingenuity and compassion to preserve precious native ways, and make contributions to fledgling America, and beyond. I will address different tribes, time periods and the men and women that are the heroes of “Indian country,” to put in print stories that will hopefully create a new camp that serves the memory of those that came before, and does not try to seek revenge in their name.
I will start this new tradition in print with a native hero of print itself: Sequoyah of the Cherokee. Although it is not known exactly when he was born, author Tom Underwood wrote that “he was old enough to fight in the Creek war of 1812 in a company of Cherokee volunteers.” Four years later, he was a signatory on a treaty (of the many) that ceded large swaths of Cherokee land. What is known, is that he was fascinated by the European’s “talking leaves” (books).
Sequoyah understood the power of the written word. He saw the potential for communication, government and sharing ideas. Through hard work, ridicule and some setbacks -including his wife burning every one of his notes in frustration- he crafted an 86-character syllabary, representing all of the sounds of the Cherokee language. In just a few years the Cherokee had gone from a completely illiterate people to one that could read and write in their own language, thanks to one man. That single act of creation may have been what saved Cherokee culture from complete annihilation.
In 1824 the council recognized Sequoyah’s achievement and voted him a medal of honor, the one he is often seen wearing in portraiture. By 1825, a Cherokee was translating the Bible into the new writing, and by 1828, a Cherokee printing press was made. In 1828, The Phoenix, the first bilingual newspaper of the United States was printed in English and Cherokee. Although under more recent scrutiny, the content of the paper’s “native culture” was brought into question, the interest that remained in preserving Cherokee language and culture has never faded.
In 2009, under the leadership of Principal Chief Chadwick “Corntassel” Smith, every employee of the Cherokee Nation in Oklahoma has to learn how to speak, read and write the language. Every government program and document has Cherokee translations in Sequoyah’s characters. Even The Phoenix, which is still in print today, has stories in English and Cherokee. There are many other bands of Cherokee around the United States -some recognized by the Federal government, some not- that are all united by the common script.
Thanks to one man, a warrior and a scholar, the Cherokee forever have their own “talking leaves,” and this time in their own native tongue. Happy Columbus Day. Never forget where you come from.
Posted by robertsalmanac
Posted by robertsalmanac
Posted by robertsalmanac 


