A Generational Depiction of Cherokee Identity
In my family, like many others, identifying as Cherokee has taken different routes. Each generation has approached the issue with a different philosophy and with different tactics, but the degree of passion has been the same. For me, I have approached my identity in an intellectual manner conducting research and theorizing about race and nationality. My mother, in keeping with the movements of the 70s (in which she proudly did not participate), finds her identity through advocacy identity. And my grandfather simply lived his identity so he did not question, think, or discuss it.
We each relate to our identity in a way that comes naturally to us and simultaneously reflect it off of society. Through dilution, I do not appear as a stereotypical Cherokee and so the only way for me to show my pride is to constantly affirm my ancestry. With my generation having the most academic opportunities, it is only natural for intellectual curiosity and discussions to be a part of any discussion. Groups on college campuses like Empower Latinos Association etc. all are open forums for discussing race in society. At many of the ELA meetings I attended with a friend, the discussions surrounded the philosophical discussion of being a Latino in America and on campus. In the Native American Student Association I was involved with, we spent time discussing our identities and roles in society. We always began discussing the reason we had joined the group. Not surprisingly, not even every participant in the group was Native, some were just curious. As a generation raised with computers (well for the most part, though I d o recall card catalogs), our first point of reference is usually some kind of research whether it be basic like Wikipedia or a deep web search. We even use the web for planning dinner and parties so moving the question of identity to the web with intellectual discourse is no surprise.
For my mother, she was an anti-hippy hippy. Always having to stand separate from the crowed, she didn’t participate in any of the mass movements. She formed her own opinions and defied the crowds. In a time when simple declaration was a strong imperative, she affirmed her cherokeeness. While crowds shouted anti-war slogans, she worked to promote better education for everyone including native peoples, solidifying her identity. It was through action and advocacy that she strengthened her identity.
My grandfather never needed to prove his identity. During a period of war and strife, he simply accepted himself, but not his situation. He was simply trying to be American and was proud to be. He found greater solace in assimilation than in standing out. As a soldier, he was constantly singled out for being different, but he only saw those as tests of his strength. In the West, he took on the appearance of a cowboy and felt at ease with his fusion of identities. If people asked, he would certainly not lie, but he did not make proclamations of race. In fighting the Germans and Japanese, he found a common identity with his brothers and so the differences became an insignificant factor.
For my great grandfather, his identity was a point of rebellion. He rebelled against all of society, stealing horses and associating with scoundrels. He married the school teacher and rebelled against his tribal society. But in his defiance, he never came to associate with anything. He did not belong to any group and tribal and American notions of family were meaningless to him. He lived a torrid life where his only solace was alcohol. Perhaps had it not been taboo to be Cherokee, he would have been a better man, but had he been a better man, he would not have let the adversity corrupt him.
Perhaps, the next generation will find yet another way to identify with their native roots. Identity has not and will not be for my family a matter of an arbitrary number or a construct by a government official.
We each relate to our identity in a way that comes naturally to us and simultaneously reflect it off of society. Through dilution, I do not appear as a stereotypical Cherokee and so the only way for me to show my pride is to constantly affirm my ancestry. With my generation having the most academic opportunities, it is only natural for intellectual curiosity and discussions to be a part of any discussion. Groups on college campuses like Empower Latinos Association etc. all are open forums for discussing race in society. At many of the ELA meetings I attended with a friend, the discussions surrounded the philosophical discussion of being a Latino in America and on campus. In the Native American Student Association I was involved with, we spent time discussing our identities and roles in society. We always began discussing the reason we had joined the group. Not surprisingly, not even every participant in the group was Native, some were just curious. As a generation raised with computers (well for the most part, though I d o recall card catalogs), our first point of reference is usually some kind of research whether it be basic like Wikipedia or a deep web search. We even use the web for planning dinner and parties so moving the question of identity to the web with intellectual discourse is no surprise.
For my mother, she was an anti-hippy hippy. Always having to stand separate from the crowed, she didn’t participate in any of the mass movements. She formed her own opinions and defied the crowds. In a time when simple declaration was a strong imperative, she affirmed her cherokeeness. While crowds shouted anti-war slogans, she worked to promote better education for everyone including native peoples, solidifying her identity. It was through action and advocacy that she strengthened her identity.
My grandfather never needed to prove his identity. During a period of war and strife, he simply accepted himself, but not his situation. He was simply trying to be American and was proud to be. He found greater solace in assimilation than in standing out. As a soldier, he was constantly singled out for being different, but he only saw those as tests of his strength. In the West, he took on the appearance of a cowboy and felt at ease with his fusion of identities. If people asked, he would certainly not lie, but he did not make proclamations of race. In fighting the Germans and Japanese, he found a common identity with his brothers and so the differences became an insignificant factor.
For my great grandfather, his identity was a point of rebellion. He rebelled against all of society, stealing horses and associating with scoundrels. He married the school teacher and rebelled against his tribal society. But in his defiance, he never came to associate with anything. He did not belong to any group and tribal and American notions of family were meaningless to him. He lived a torrid life where his only solace was alcohol. Perhaps had it not been taboo to be Cherokee, he would have been a better man, but had he been a better man, he would not have let the adversity corrupt him.
Perhaps, the next generation will find yet another way to identify with their native roots. Identity has not and will not be for my family a matter of an arbitrary number or a construct by a government official.
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