Sunday, May 31, 2009

Post 3 - Podcasts

Amy and Sarah Vowell are two very distinct people even though they are twins. They share something besides their mother, and that is their frustration, rage, independence and sense of adventure. Then thereҀs Anthony, the troubled and yet highly expressive teenager. I noticed, while trying to compare the two podcast segments, that although one group is considered more ӀeducatedԀ (the Vowells) and one is more ӀtroubledԀ (Anthony) that both live frustrating lives because of an unsettled identity.

For instance, at the outset, the Vowell sisters say how they donҀt look like twins because one looks Native and the other looks European. But they sound the same. Identity here is portrayed as looks, but through a podcast, the identity is portrayed through voice - which is one and the same. Their Trail of Tears pathway is visual for them, but is audio for the listener. This cancels out identity based on looks which is really great because it emphasizes that looks don't matter, it's voice. Automatically, the listener is submerged into their world temporarily. Sarah sets it up very nicely for us. I couldnҀt tell the difference between the two sisters when they were speaking and this added to the continuity of their observations and comments along the Trail of Tears. Their discovery of identity becomes our discovery of their identity too because it was based on their perspective and opinions rather than our guesses of identity which would initially be based on phenotype.

Both women are able to interact with an amazing grace thatҀs articulate and effortless even though they are on journey of discovery which takes a lot of effort. While Sarah and Amy try to retrace their trek to Tahlequah they become enraged at RossҀs Landing and want to quit while they can. Surprisingly their most effortless stop and discovery becomes their most difficult one to swallow.

Then thereҀs Anthony, in the other podcast we listened to. He has difficulties, just like the Vowell twins, but in a different context. He, like the girls, wants to quit while heҀs ahead. For Anthony itҀs because he canҀt find the classroom heҀs suppose to be in for his skills class. For the girls itҀs because they canҀt believe what has happened to their people. In a way these are both the same manifestations of the complexities of identity. They both want to continue but also want to quit. ItҀs interesting how they both have a very difficult time in order to catch up or move on and get ahead, the girls want to move and Anthony wants to sit still.

Why is such a rich and powerful idea of being Native American, or more specifically Cherokee, still so painful and frustrating for these younger people?

Stick Ball

Stick Ball was an experience like no other. A rough and tumble game, I left the field feeling bruised, battered, and best of all, muddy. The game was not only a great way to get connected to our NSU friends; the game was a really great way for us to get connected to our neighbors at NSU, and make great friends, and connect with any of our fellow students with whom we had yet connected. Stick ball was also a great way to get better insight into the Cherokee Nation of the past and the present.
Stick ball is called the "little brother to war" and was used in the past to settle disputes between tribes or groups, and often got incredibly violent, or even deadly. Our game was no different, except no one died! There was a great deal of injuries though.
I don't think I've ever been more nervous about a sport in my life! I was so nervous that I would get hurt, or make a mistake, or just do something wrong for everyone to laugh at (I usually do that :P). But, as soon as the game started I got more and more comfortable with the game and with my skills in it. I started to realize that playing the game (at least the way we were playing it) was more about the meaning of the game to the Cherokees than it was about the score. Eventually we were having so much fun that we decided to play 3 games of stick ball, resulting in an average of about 7 bruises per player. Every single bruise was completely worth it. Not only did I find a sport that was fun and I was pretty good at and enthusiastic about (I'm not lying when I tell you to look for an upcoming Stick ball club at UNC or Stick ball intramural teams), but I also found a way to connect with the Cherokees and my friends in a way I never thought possible. I'm so grateful to have been introduced to the sport of stick ball, and even more privileged that I got to play it with the people I did.

Saturday, May 30, 2009

This American Life with Sarah and Amy Vowell

Sarah VowellҀs description relating herself to America like a battered wife to a violent husband is something, I think, everyone can relate to on some level. America is both a good country and a bad country with an Ӏambiguous past that is alternately murderous and heroic, money grubbing and idealistic.Ԁ What are we to do with those aspects of our countryҀs past? Are we to be proud or ashamed? A healthy dose of both? Call me a pessimist, but the older I get the more things I find shameful about our countryҀs actions. IҀm not unpatriotic or anti-America. I am very thankful to be a US citizen and live in this country, but I also feel very conflicted.

What struck me during this podcast is when Sarah said that in comparison to her uncle, she was free of history, so much so that she had to Ӏget in a car and drive seven states to find it.Ԁ The idea of history bearing down on people like Sarah and AmyҀs uncle, our own grandparents and great-grandparents makes me wonder whether or not it is a good thing or a bad thing to be Ӏfree of history.Ԁ In the sense that those who came before us sacrificed and suffered so that future generations could have better opportunities, I would say it is a good thing for which we ought to be forever grateful. In the sense that we do not have those stories, experiences of real work and accomplishments, that most of us do not know what it means to truly scrape out a living, that with each successive generation it seems more values are lost׀to be free of history is definitely a bad thing. Being unable to pass it on, oneҀs history will be lost in almost no time. Seeking out oneҀs history is a personal choice to make, but in this way there is truth in the statement: ӀA nation that does not know its history has no future.Ԁ

The Vowells chose to retrace their history through the experience of heritage tourism. While informative and educational, Sarah says that she only feels worse and questions their purpose in making this trip. This is around the time they make stops in Tennessee. By the time the Vowells get to their hometown and visit with their family, they feel connected to their journey. I think this is exactly what heritage tourism is good for. Making that connection with the past is important whether it be for personal reasons or out of a responsibility or obligation to be informed.

Friday, May 29, 2009

Music Response



Of all the music tracks, I think ӀA Beautiful LifeԀ by The Kingfisher Trio is my favorite. Having no translation of the lyrics makes no difference. I think this song reflects the clear connection between Indian culture and southern culture. The style reminds me of summer Sunday evening services at my grandparentsҀ church in Blythewood, South Carolina. Singing groups from across the state would come sing specials for a couple hours. Then, like all good Southern Baptists do, we followed the evening service with Ӏfood and fellowship,Ԁ which usually included homemade ice cream.
In his song, ӀVision Quest,Ԁ Litefoot acknowledges and does not hide that there is dissension within tribes in addition to the oppression they have been under. LitefootҀs vision, which includes himself, a Cherokee, allusions to Crazy Horse of the Lakota, and Chief Joseph of the Nez Perce exemplifies the ability to cross tribal cultures and unite in his quest to Ӏstop the prejudice, hate, and greed.Ԁ
I must admit I have never been terribly fond of the song by The Raiders. While it does offer that the Cherokees have survived in spite of the crap (to put it lightly) they have gone through, I feel that it fuels the misconception that most of us have already encountered with friends back home. The only way I can accept the misinformation regarding a Cherokee reservation is if it is sympathetic to other tribes who are actually on reservations. Also, the whole idea that the Cherokee Nation Ӏwill returnԀ is off-putting. Hearing that makes me think of a people, a community, a government that had been completely dissolved, even in spirit. That is not characteristic of the Cherokee people. They have endured. So, I feel that ӀIndian ReservationԀ is not quite as empowering a song as it may have been intended.

Thursday, May 28, 2009

Music Response

Out of all the music tracks we were given to listen to, Tori AmosҀ version of Home on the Range was the one song that really grabbed my attention. Perhaps it is because Home on the Range is a song I grew up hearing; as Vanessa mentions it is often used as a camp song and in schools so most children grow up hearing this traditionally рAmericanҀ song. The difference in lyrics, giving it a different American perspective, is what really struck me; AmosҀ version makes sure to emphasize the role the Cherokee people were forced into in establishing this рhome on the range.Ҁ I decided to look up the lyrics to the original song and through Wikipedia I learned that there are actually three commonly used versions. Out of those three only one version even mentions the Native American people:
The red man was pressed from this part of the West,
He's likely no more to return
To the banks of Red River where seldom if ever
Their flickering campfires burn.

Despite this passing mention the original song continues to emphasize рthe rangeҀ as the white manҀs beautiful home that they are proud to live on. AmosҀ song conveys not just the Cherokee perspective, but manages to encompass the general Indian sentiment towards this land that was forced upon them and the later colonization of the range land that was supposed to be theirs forever.

As for some of the other music I listened to, I thought LitefootҀs songs were interesting. The Hip Hop/Rap feel to them came as a bit of a shock when I first listened to some of their songs because I honestly did not expect to hear music with such a modern sound. I also like the Raiders song Indian Reservation because of the lyrics and the beat. Although thanks to Ben I now get the chorus, ӀCherokee people, Cherokee tribe, so proud to live, so proud to die!Ԁ constantly stuck in my head, thanks Benŀ

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

What I think about Amos, Raiders, and Litefoot

In her rendition of Home on the Range, Tori Amos is making a statement about the definition of ӀAmericannessԀ that the traditional song intrinsically promotes. There exists a sizable and widely-recognized category of folk and traditional songs that are definitively American. Kids sing them at summer camps and in school and know every word without ever being asked to think about what they are actually singing. Tori Amos challenges these cultural norms in Home on the Range by reconstructing these familiar texts to tell a different story ր that of the Cherokee removal. The idea of Ӏthis land is your landԀ is juxtaposed against images of a ӀCherokee bride.Ԁ Tori Amos uses music to ask us all to question the white manҀs history and to reverse our own cultural complacency.

The Raiders song Indian Reservation similarly deals with the public perception of the Cherokee and the Trail of Tears. The song is used to publicize the horrible realities of the Indian removal. Lyrics like Ӏthey took the whole Indian nation/ locked us in this reservationԀ and Ӏmaybe someday when they learn/ the Cherokee nation will returnԀ convey a sense of blame and of sadness for the cultural ignorance that resulted in the deaths of some 4,000 Cherokee on the Trail of Tears. Yet, there is a theme in the RaidersҀ song that is less present in Tori AmosҀ Home on the Range, the fact that despite the mistreatment that the Cherokee have endured, they are Ӏso proud to live, so proud to dieԀ for their people and what they believe in. I am certainly not the first to propose that the community and sense of mutual responsibility experienced by many Cherokee (and other American Indians) is what has allowed them to surmount staggering odds and remain a vibrant community today.

Pride in being Cherokee is also the primary sentiment expressed in the raps by Litefoot. The lyric Ӏred be the color/ no wonder why IҀm hotԀ shows LitefootҀs central theme of Native pride. However, as a Cherokee rapper, the music still appeals to a broader community of youth, allowing the message of the songs to expand to a more universal concept of taking pride in oneҀs heritage. The content of LitefootҀs music is similar to that of other rap ր accumulating money and women, and taking pride in oneҀs own community. It is expected that a community, like young members of the Cherokee Nation, should have their own version of the generationҀs popular style of music.

Art is a fundamental and often overlooked lens through which to view a community. Examining the Cherokee through their own music facilitates the understanding of cultural themes which they deem important that are often devalued by outsiders.

Go ahead and post to this forum, read others, put up pics, etc.! This is a sort of community journal. After the course, you will be given time to erase anything you want from it before we make it public, but after that you can use it as a visual and collective online scrapbook of your activities. I would love to hear about your adventures outside of the course as well, so try to post that sort of stuff.

Wado, tol




Music Make You Lose Control

LITEFOOT- The spoken interludes characteristic of rap music sometimes reveal a more frank portrayal of the blunt views or situations of the artist. In ӀInterlude- The Apple,Ԁ we see that Litefoot has adapted himself to a culture of rapper-style thugs/thug wannabes who speak with hood vocabularies. For example, one man questions the man he dubs рthe appleҀ if he his Ӏplayer hatingԀ on Litefoot for not spreading the wealth. He makes this accusation, and then tells рthe appleҀ he should try to provide for himself, Ӏlike our ancestors used to do,Ԁ- a serious call out and revealing of how important the cultural history still is to contemporary CherokeeҀs. The accuser also gives credit to Litefoot for his service on reservations and therefore helping in the community, demonstrating value.

I will not lie, I can jam to some of LitefootҀs beats. рConcrete SoldierҀ, рVision QuestҀ, and рDedicatedҀ are my main jams. I find рConcrete SoldierҀ particularly gangster as well as telling. The title in itself is metaphorical of the contemporary Cherokee adapting to the changing time and current world of asphalt city-living and new technology. I believe this song contains a Cherokee perception of masculinity seen in the repeated focus upon being a soldier (rolling strapped), having Cherokee goddesses, and certain lyrical mentions of pride and courage such as Ӏquick to earn a stripe, quick to take your life,Ԁ In noting battle strategies such as рcusters last standҀ in the lyrics, as well as mentions of burial places and chieftains, Litefoot shows us the CherokeeҀs proud heritage and culture as well as being knowledgeable about historical events.

OTHER-Much of the contemporary music we have been given to listen to, including Tori AmosҀ рHome on the RangeҀ, the Raiders рIndian ReservationҀ, рReservation BluesҀ, and some others give off the perception of a depressed state of affairs for the Cherokee suffering through the land-stealing, multiple relocations, and present poverty and attempt to rebuild. On the other hand, The Muskogee рWayland GrayҀ and рFarron CulleyҀ are awesome tribal examples of calls and call back and tribal music from the past which are a great look into traditional Native American culture that give a whole new spin on the nation, and help support the notion that the nation is still strong and reviving if this music has been recorded and preserved (therefore balancing out the depressing songs at least somewhat).

THIS AMERICAN LIFE

THIS AMERICAN LIFE
I took many things from this radio program. To start small, Vowell calling the Cherokee a рnerdy cultureҀ, referencing language and other such characteristics is an interesting description that I do not think defines the tribe in any sense, but certainly furthers perspective. The beginning of the sistersҀ quest in northern Georgia when they run into their first Indians is quite interesting. The man selling Indian sculptures is in fact a Mexican with no Indian heritage, but says the work brought him to Georgia and that people love Indians, though he sells plains and western tribe Indians instead of Cherokee. To this observation, Sarah notes that it makes sense for people to like the popular, stereotypical depiction of a warring, exciting, even vicious Indian, over that of a crying Cherokee. Another of SarahҀs statements helped me to understand more fully how CherokeeҀs took a civilized approach of trying to adapt as much English culture as they could in an attempt to live in peace with these new people. Examples of this are in drafting their own constitution, drafting a syllabary, and declaring the national capital of New Echtoa. Even with all of these efforts, colonial American greed was insatiable.
By far the most interesting part of the program to me is when Vowell questions рwhy are we here?Ҁ And notes how while she knows it is important for her to seek out and understand this history, she wonders what good it does and notably feels worse. This pries into the philosophical aspect of learning history and of what an average person can gain from learning about such a cruel history. Her personal counterargument of how much she loves this country while hating the cruel evils we have once committed poses quite the enigma. In my opinion, the use of learning this history is to prevent it from happening again, but I do not mean this as explicitly as it may be read. A repeat of such a horrendous event like the Trail of Tears could take many forms, from discriminatory legislation down to more likely racial discrimination and social rift. By learning about the wrongs suffered by Indians, people would certainly be less likely to prejudice this group, and much more likely to empathize with their current condition as well as reach out to help.
In the end, vicariously living the Vowell sisters American journey through the Trail of Tears has been incredibly enlightening, especially in the end segment where she reflects and empathizes with Chief John Ross in probable feelings of confusion, anger, outrage, and most of all, heart break in response to AmericaҀs breaking of their own creed. One resonant phrase I find worth repeating is VowellҀs consideration of Cherokee as, Ӏstrangers in our own land.Ԁ Also, upon my newfound historical knowledge of Old Hickory, I will forever look at $20 bills with disgust, and impulsively buy to dispose of them.

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Podcast Response - Education

Through this trip, I am trying to learn what things really underlie our cultural differences and give us common ground. Though we are culturally different from one another, sometimes in a radical way, our common humanity ensures that we will be like one another in small and large ways.
Listening to the episode of This American Life, I was most affected by the segment we emphasized in class, actually, in which the Vowells' uncle tells them that he never got higher than a third grade education. In my studies and through my life experience, I have found that opinions on education are relatively constant, regardless of other cultural differences. The segment we listened to rammed that home for me.
The Vowells' uncle said in the segment that he had only gotten to the third grade. He could not go to school after that because he was needed for labor by his family, and necessity dictated his lack of a further education. He expressed sorrow at having not furthered his education at all, saying that he would have liked to keep going to school.
His thoughts brought back many memories, of studying educational history in various Southern communities, conversations with my family members about education in Romania, and experiencing education from the educator's perspective. History is filled with stories like the Vowells' uncle's. If we only look at upper class stereotypes of disadvantaged groups regarding education (uneducated, low brow, etc.), we fail to see the reality of what these communities actually thought about education. We can begin by looking at the Cherokee. The Cherokee, labeled savages by contemporary whites in the nineteenth century, showed incredible commitment and dedication to education. Cherokees had an incredible 98% literacy rate in the 1830s, when most whites living nearby were fully illiterate. After removal to modern day Oklahoma, one of the top priorities was higher education, and we see that the Cherokees built the first institution of higher learning west of the Mississippi and the seminaries. Allotment impoverished many Cherokee and took their educational opportunities away, but we can see from the segment that respect and support for education did not wane in the community.
If we look at early twentieth century North Carolina, specifically at white mill families and black communities, we can see the same opinion toward education. White mill families were paid close to starvation wages, so families could not afford to live on just the salaries of the parents. Children often went to work as soon as they could work the machines in the mills, resulting in a low level of education among mill families. However, records from the time period show that families sent their children to school for as long as they possibly financially could before they went to work in the mills. Records taken later during the Federal Writers' Project show that many families sacrificed themselves so their children could educate themselves even to an eighth grade level.
Black communities in early twentieth century North Carolina had extremely poor and inadequate educational facilities. Several private initiatives such as the Jeanes Fund, heavily supplemented by as much money as the communities could raise (often more money than donated by the funds), improved the educational facilities. Higher education in those communities improved the quality of life there as well.
In Romania, education was considered the one most important path to self actualization in an otherwise repressive communist society. Teachers were the most respected members of society, and education was seen as an honor and a privilege, and students could be sent home for disrupting the academic environment. The commitment to education is something that has led to an extremely high percentage of skilled workers in my parents' generation of Romanians.
When I was teaching a mini course at my old high school, I deal with a lot of grumbling and complaining, as many teachers do. However, it was clear that the students, mostly middle class whites, ultimately understood that some kind of education was the road to success in American society.
The support of education is something that is constant regardless of culture, race, and class. The definition of education is sometimes contested, and some people are quick to label those without a formal Ӏbook learnin'Ԁ education as uneducated or stupid. But really what education is is the acquirement of skills useful to a society. Every culture supports education.

Music Response

The song that stood out to me of all of them was ӀHome on the RangeԀ by Tori Amos. This song was immediately jarring because it put into perspective a conversation I had a few years ago with my paternal grandmother. My grandmother is a Romanian woman. She only speaks Romanian and has only been out of the country a few times ր not at all, in fact, before the late 1990s. She has come to the United States twice to visit my immediate family, and she has stayed with us for about a year at a time per visit.
During one of these visits, in 2005, I remember asking her if she wouldn't like to just stay in the United States and live with us. I had expected that she would like to, or at least be ambivalent about it, but her answer was a resounding no. I asked her why. In my mind the United States was a much better place to live than in Romania, and this was true until Romania joined the European Union in 2007. The United States had better health care, better sanitation, safer streets, and more food availability than Romania. She only really spoke to her family, so the fact that she couldn't speak English was beside the point. My grandmother admitted all this. So why did she not want to stay in the United States?
Her answer was that she couldn't bear the thought of dying in a place that wasn't her home, where her parents, her husband, several brothers, and all her ancestors had been buried. She felt the same way about Austria, where my uncle now lives.
Both Austria and the United States were seen as pinnacles of civilization to young adults in Romania. Actually, after the opening up of the borders, Romania experienced the loss of a generation of youth who moved to Western Europe and the United States ր my parents, uncles, and aunts were part of this mass migration. The early to mid 1990s were an exciting time for young adults in Eastern Europe. The move to the United States was an exciting one for me, as I experienced it through my parents' eyes, and for a long time I did not question that everyone in Romania felt this way about the United States.
After this conversation with my grandmother, I realized that the idea of moving away to a country that wasn't home was horrifying to older Romanians and even young ones that had already established families in Romania. The song ӀHome on the RangeԀ showed me how attitudes toward home are part of a shared human experience. The same feelings that make my grandmother completely unwilling to live her life out in the United States, no matter how much better the U.S. is than Romania, must have pervaded the Cherokee Nation during the late 1830s, no matter how good the land in Oklahoma could have been.

Trail of Tears Podcast Response

I found the podcast by Sarah and Amy Vowell on the Trail of Tears very interesting, informative, and thought provoking. To first answer your questions, I feel that the battered wife metaphor Sarah used is somewhat applicable in this situation. Sarah, as a Cherokee, says that America is like a husband who "knocks me around, but sure can dance." Because she is somewhat removed from her Cherokee heritage and feels a sense of loyalty and appreciation for out present-day America coupled with her knowledge of the horrible treatment of Native Americans (her ancestors) by our government throughout history, the battered wife metaphor seems just about spot-on. In the podcast she goes back and forth between America being a good country and a bad country, but comes to the realization that it is neither, but has both good and bad in its past and present. At this point in the course I definitely feel the same way. It's completely amazing and horrifying to see how America, a land that boasts freedom, opportunity, and justice, could have treated any people in that manner. And sadly, it's one many mistakes that the government and individuals have made throughout our history. But at the same time, I love America, what it stands for, and the opportunities that I have been given.
I can also see how Sarah and Amy find"heritage tourism" boring, intense, informative, and highly emotional all at once. Going to monuments and sites and learning about events is extremely important and educational, but at the same time, it is impossible to completely understand the event, what people were going through, or exactly how they felt. However, I think that heritage tourism is definitely superior to book learning because you get a more affective experience...you can actually stand in the places that these people did and hopefully place yourself more fully in their shoes. I like that Sarah said that she and Amy were road trip history buffs one second and amnesiacs the next. No matter how emotionally moving a place is, you are likely to forget about it a short time later only to continue on with the rest of your trip or your everyday life. I experienced the same sort of feeling when visiting the beaches of Normandy and the American cemetery in France last summer. I learned so much about the invasion of Normandy and the tragedy that took place there. I cried for the soldiers who lost their lives, for those who had been senselessly murdered in the Holocaust, and for the soldiers and families who had to live on. But like Sarah Vowell, I became a sort of amnesiac later that day. All in all, I think heritage tourism is a great way to make what you learn more personal and meaningful, but it will never live up to actually going through the pain or joy of the event.
My general opinion of this podcast, as someone who has very little knowledge of the trials of the Cherokees so far, is that it was enlightening and relatable. I liked how each of them got something different out of the experience. Amy felt more empathy and the pain of those who were forced onto the Trail of Tears, while Sarah identified with John Ross how he probably felt extremely conflicted, angry, and broken-hearted. Just as Sarah said that you don't have to be Jewish to think the Holocaust is a sad part of history, I definitely feel that this was a tragic part of America's history that should be remembered and mourned by everyone, whether or not their ancestors marched on the Trail of Tears.

Podcast response... and a big, long, slightly irrelevant tangent

In the podcast, the interview with VowellҀs uncle interested me the most. When he mentioned his regret at having been forced to drop out of school in the third grade, I instantly thought of my great grandmother Viola McCloud. Born in the South Carolina upcountry during the depression, she quit school at about the same time and went to work first picking cotton, and then spinning it in the textile mill. Her daughter, my grandmother, Betty had a similar story׀she dropped out in eighth grade, began work in a knitting mill, got married, and had my mama at age 15. They both had Indian blood, and although I donҀt pretend to be anything but white, the racial discrimination in South Carolina played a major role in their dropping out of school. As both of them were ardent racists themselves, they were ashamed to be sent to the segregated black schools׀both of them had very dark complexions, which made a pretty significant difference in how they were treated both by the state and by others. For these reasons, they both had children with extremely white men in order to ӀimproveԀ their childrenҀs color. My mama was sort of the culmination of these efforts, although she ironically feels very connected to her Indian heritage and wishes she knew more about it. But my great great grandmother׀the child of a bank-robbing outlaw Indian of mysterious origins and the even more enigmatic Julia Grant, who is unhelpfully listed as ӀmulattoԀ on the US Census records׀would only ever say that her daddy was a Ӏswamp Indian,Ԁ whatever that means . (She was alive until my mama was in junior high or high school, I believe). In any case, I am interested in knowing what difference color makes in the Oklahoma Cherokee/Indian community. In my experience, it is very important on the east coast, but given the different racial makeup in Oklahoma, I imagine attitudes would be different.

It is worth adding that I self-identify as white. My mama׀who felt cut off from her heritage but, like her mother and grandmother, married a very white man׀sort of groomed me to view myself as native in some sense. But I seriously want to avoid being what Conley calls a ӀCherokee wannabe,Ԁ and having been raised in a very culturally white environment, I feel I donҀt have the cultural background to legitimately claim to be Indian in any measure. In reality, though, my feelings on the matter are pretty complicated. On the one hand, I was raised as the son of a white doctor, but on the other, I spent a lot of time with my Indian great-grandmother. The real complication comes is related to the fact that she and my grandmother both were extremely, extremely ashamed of their nonwhite heritage, knew next to nothing about it, and would not have been interested had they had the opportunity to learn. They both thought of themselves as belonging to the working-class white textile mill class, then so prevalent in the Carolinas. Basically, I have a miniscule amount of Indian blood, but absolutely none of the cultural context. IҀve wrestled with this question a lot׀Is it offensive to claim Indian ancestry I know next to nothing about? Do I really feel white? Am I proud of my European heritage, which is the vast majority of it? Should I be ashamed of it? How Indian am I, really? Is blood quantum important? Ultimately, I got tired of thinking about it. Whenever asks me about my heritage, I generally tell them IҀm a Ӏmongrel white guy.Ԁ ThatҀs probably the most accurate description. Although, I have to say, this course has stirred up a lot of old issues that I thought I had finally put to rest.

In any case, thatҀs a complete tangent. The podcast and the connections it brought up made me think about the root causes of poverty in both the Western Indian and Southeastern communities. In the Carolinas, the working class white mill operatives (the group into which my grandmother and great grandmother roughly fit) was generally tied into poverty due to a system of low wages and the remnants of the Ӏfamily labor system,Ԁ because of which mill operative status almost became a hereditary position. In the Western Indian communities, clearly, federal and state meddling has a lot to do with Indian poverty, but I am interested in knowing more about the role industry has historically played in poverty in the Oklahoma Cherokee population. I would like to know how both agriculture and industry contributed to poverty among Cherokees, since IҀm unsure about how the balance and nature of the two economic forms compares to the situation in mid-twentieth century North and South Carolina.

Cherokee Music Post

As a blues guitarist, I was particularly interested in the several blues tracks that were assigned. Of the greatest interest were ӀReservation Blues,Ԁ ӀEastbound Greyhound,Ԁ and ӀCherkee Boogie.Ԁ I found that ӀReservation BluesԀ and ӀEastbound GreyhoundԀ incorporated a number of electric blues styles. Eddy ClearwaterҀs track incorporates elements both of the electric Delta/Memphis and the Chicago styles. The combination of big band instrumentation and the heavy use of vibrato on guitar produces a sound reminiscent of BB King, but the song also includes a Muddy Waters-style breakdown toward the middle of the track. Blues Nation seems to have more of a Chicago sound, but the guitar playing has a distinct Texas blues influence. IҀm unsure whether this stylistic blend is simply a reflection of the most nationally popular, heavily recorded electric blues subgenres or something more organic. I imagine the Texas blues notes, and possibly also the Mississippi/Memphis elements, could be rooted in the regional blues tradition. I would speculate that the Chicago influence stems from the fact that it is heavily recorded and nationally popular.

The use of language in the lyrics was also of some interest to me, mostly in the way that the songwriters ӀreclaimԀ racist and stereotypical language. Both ӀReservation BluesԀ and ӀCherokee BoogieԀ draw heavily on these elements. Clearwater styles himself as Ӏthe ChiefԀ and makes reference in his song to a Ӏsquaw.Ԁ Bull Moose Jackson makes reference to Geronimo and incorporates Hollywood-style war-whooping. This deliberate use of offensive terms reminds me of the way many African-Americans use the term Ӏnigger.Ԁ Among minorities facing significant discrimination, this redefinition of racial slurs appears to be a common coping mechanism. It seems to serve both to reestablish some sense of ownership over the terms used to describe oneҀs group, as well as to take the sting out of offensive language. Interestingly, Blues Nation directly suggests a similarity between the black and Indian experience, singing that it doesnҀt matter whether you come from the plantation or the reservation.

I also noticed some interesting musical parallels between the African-American and Indian blues styles, most notably the use of call and response. Most of African-American music, from gospel to blues, is predicated on call-and-response, which, obviously, bears a striking similarity to stomp dance songs. Bull Moose Jackson apparently saw the same similarity and incorporated stomp dance song elements into a boogie tune.

Vowell Sister Response

Sarah Vowell describes the relationship of the Cherokees and America as being like a husband beating his wife. I think this is a somewhat appropriate metaphor, but I think there is one flaw, that makes Vowell come off as ignorant or uneducated in Cherokee History. I think its important to note that in most cases of a wife and a dynamic but abusive husband, the wife often has difficulty leaving and struggles to convince herself to leave or divorce her husband, and I think that this is not the case of the Cherokee nation. I think that the Cherokee Nation has proven in the past several years that it no longer needs to rely on the US federal government as much, and that it can survive on its own as a sovereign nation. Also, I think that the US government has proven in the past that it is taking strides to improve its relations with the Cherokee Nation, as well as other native tribes, these strides began as early as with Richard Nixon, a president credited by many scholars as being one of the biggest proponents of native rights.
I think that the term "heritage tourism" is a justified by Vowell's experience. Heritage tourism, to me, means the trips that families or people take to remember a past that they should never have forgotten in the first place. Heritage tourism reminds me of the people who travel to Ellis Island to see where their ancestors came through. However, I would not call the Vowell sisters Heritage tourists either. I think they were more informed than most tourists ever are. I think this is attributed to the fact that Cherokees stay very well connected with their past. The Vowell sisters were reminded of parts of their heritage I think, not reminded of their entire history. I think that is the difference between the Vowell Sisters and heritage tourists is that they relived their history more often than heritage tourists.

Music Tracks Response

When it came to the music we listened to, the thing that struck me most was the lack of sonic signifiers. As a music minor, I've been taught to listen to music and to deconstruct it not based as much on its lyrics, but its sonic qualities. Before listening to the tracks, I had expectations to hear more sounds that were identifiable with Native Americans. Some of the songs, like "Vision Quest" by Litefoot, had a few sonic signifiers in it, but the main way that the songs could be identified as "native" was the content, which is something that I was taught to consider last. I also though that compared to modern music of the same genre, Litefoot had many similar characteristics to rap heard on popular radio. Litefoot did not use his background all the time in his songs, like The Raiders did. The one song we heard from them was basically all about the history and resilience of the Cherokees. This is not a bad song subject, but Litefoot manages to make more songs that do not constantly call to his identity as a Cherokee Indian.
The song Home on the Range by Tori Amos, when considered with the podcast of Sarah and Amy Vowell seems very appropriate. The Vowell sisters were in a sense going home, where "seldom is heard/ a discouraging word," but it took them quite some time to see that they were in fact so connected to their lives. It took them a while to realize what they were really returning home, but once they did, they gained a much deeper connection to their past, rather than just driving on the trail of tears just to remember it. Now, not only were they remembering it, but they were becoming more apart of it than they ever had.

Post 2- Tori Amos

I'm a fan of Tori Amos. In fact, I know "Home on the Range" quite well. I havenҀt listened to the song in a while and it was nice to revisit it because I heard and thought differently about it this time around. Basically, thereҀs the contrast in the lyrics between the sad commemoration of the ӀTrail of TearsԀ with the skies never being cloudy - And the skies are not cloudy all day. To me sadness is usually heightened by rainy and miserably cloudy skies. In this song it seems that Amos is providing a glimpse of hope through her interpretation of the song. She shows how the Cherokee were forced to travel closer to the range, but through their plight there were still unclouded skies up above. The Cherokee bride lives on under unclouded skies, now that there home is far from their point of origin.

Amos weaves in her own version of what the Cherokee perspective of such a celebrated and American historical song could be. She takes something that has been masked as happy and beneficial and reveals a realistic and more honest version of what Home on the Range can really mean to Americans. AmosҀs sarcasm is similar to that of Sarah VowellҀs. What I remember the most from the podcast as it relates to this paradoxical version of AmosҀs is when Sarah and Amy are in Georgia still, at the beginning of their trip. They pull over to a Mexican man selling Indian items. The man says that the Georgians love Indians. Then Sarah puts it to him and says something along the lines of ӀYou mean the Indians they kicked out of Georgia?Ԁ This is similar to Tori AmosҀs paradoxical and truly creative voice. Sarah has found her voice and so has Tori Amos in regards to the oftentimes contradicting and American story and perspective.