On Being Cherokee
Introduction
In 1913, when she was just five years old, Nannie Harmon’s dad, Charlie died. Just 9 years before, in 1904, Charlie had signed the Dawes Roll and was issued citizenship to the Cherokee Nation.
Growing up without her Dad, did little Nannie ever know that her dad’s Indian name was Tin Cup - Tchule Squit?
I’m not sure I’ll ever get definite answers to questions like this one. Nannie was my great grandmother and she died in 1980 – just five years before I was born.
Nannie’s first-born daughter, Lillie Mae, is my Grandma Neal.
In 1990, when I was five, our family – My Dad, my Aunt, my Mom, and my baby sister - loaded up in the car and went from Tulsa to Tahlequah, the Capitol of Cherokee Nation, with a file folder of documentation showing that Grandma Neal was Tin Cup’s granddaughter - and my whole family became enrolled Tribal citizens.
I received my CDIB when I was six. Certificate of Indian Blood.
As long as I can remember, I’ve been on a journey to reclaim the lost stories of my past – and understand how my family landed here in Oklahoma.
Since then, I uncovered a dark history of my ancestors. As it turns out, my story is just as much about being a woman as it is about being Cherokee.
On Reclamation
I grew up in Tulsa, Oklahoma, a city which is within the boundaries of the Muscogee-Creek Nation Reservation and contiguous with Osage Nation and Cherokee Nation. Before Oklahoma became a state, it was simply called Indian Territory, which is where many more of my ancestors lived on these Native lands.
My Cherokee enrolled family members include my Dad, my two sisters, Aunts, Cousins, Nieces – and my ancestors before me – My Grandma, her mother, her father, his mother – and beyond. We are all of mixed white settler and Cherokee descent. My Mom’s side of the family is white settler.
I have fond memories of Grandma Neal, Cherokee, who brought me a strong sense of bygone times. I grew up on her home-grown garden veggies and beans, her chicken noodles, okra, and banana pudding. She bathed me and powdered me and rocked me to sleep. She called all the grandkids “sis” and “son” and everyone else was “honey.” She was famous in our family for kissing everyone, even strangers, and often missing the cheek and hitting the eye.
She cooked giant incredible family feasts, and when it was time to eat we had to tell her to come sit down and stop working. When she finally did, she would constantly ask everyone else if they had everything they needed, like enough bread to sop up gravy. Fashion was her hobby – she got the biggest kick out of finding name brands like Liz Claiborne at the thrift store. She never learned to drive a car, didn’t graduate high school – none of my grandparents did. She loved kissing everyone at church and singing hymns. She would tearfully pray for everyone she loved.
Grandma Neal didn’t speak Cherokee or wear regalia. I wanted to know why.
She is Cherokee – and part of being Cherokee is being stripped of the old ways. Erasure comes in many forms: Methodically by the government, or in personal oppression, or in loss and death, like how my family lost a father, a grandpa, before getting to know him. The decline of the Cherokee language to only 2,000 speakers is largely due to historical factors such as the forced removal of the Cherokee people and the assimilation policies enforced through boarding schools, where children were punished for speaking their native language. These policies, combined with the societal dominance of English, led to a generational gap in language transmission and the marginalization of Cherokee.
I recently attended the 72nd annual inter-tribal Powwow in Tulsa. While I was there, I saw a woman put both hands on her friend’s face, kiss her cheek, and call her honey. That’s when I knew I was with my people.
Thanks to modern access to digitized documents, I’ve been fortunate to have the ability to piece together an understanding of my ancestors that even Nannie may not have had.
Thus, my story becomes one of reclaiming identity, reviving forgotten history, and forging a new artistic path forward.
Personal Lineage: A Journey
I became an enrolled citizen of the Cherokee Nation after I turned 18, and received my CDIB card on 9/9/91. My dad got his on the same day.
I am of the following Cherokee lineage:
My father, Tom Neal
His mother, Lillie Mae Rodgers Neal,
Her mother, Nannie Harmon Rodgers,
Her father, Charlie Harmon, Indian Name: Tchule Squit (Tin Cup)
(Dawes Roll #18767, Citizenship issued March 3, 1905, Guion Miller Roll #13321, App. #6310)
His mother, Quate, English Name: Margaret “Peggy” Wicked Harmon
(Continued…)
My first glimpse of Grandma Neal’s Grandpa was found in A History of the State of Oklahoma, Volume 2 by Luther B. Hill.1
The book, to my pleasant surprise, contained an entire biography of Charlie Harmon with priceless anecdotes about his family. Anecdotes that even Lillie Mae and Nannie may not have known about their own dad and grandfather.
Charlie died in 1913, just eight years after he became a citizen of the Cherokee Nation – and when Nannie was only five years old.
When Charlie filled out the census, the Dawes Roll, his Cherokee Nation citizenship applications, someone else was always doing the writing for him. According to the census, he could not read or write.
Peggy Wicked, Charlie’s mother, is my 3rd Great Grandmother. She was born in Old Nation, Tennessee in 1827. I found her and her family on the Emigration Rolls of 1817-18352 as they made their way to Oklahoma in 1829 as one of the earliest on the Trail of Tears, known as Old Settlers. This means that she was just a few years old when her family was making their way West to Indian Territory.
Peggy was 15 when she married James Harmon, a white man, and 17 when Charlie was born in 1844 in Tahlequah. It was a time before marriage licenses or other formalities – their being together would have simply happened. Peggy and Jim had eight children, and tragically they both died within two years. Jim died at age 41, then two years later, Peggy died at the young age of 40, leaving her son Charlie, the oldest of 8 children, to raise the family. Charlie became the patriarch, taking care of his sisters until they grew up and married.
Charlie was married twice. His first wife, Celia, died, then he married Ida, a white woman, my 2nd great-grandmother. When I was a kid, everyone called Ida “Blind Granny.” The family story on Blind Granny is that she didn’t have to go blind, but she did, because she didn’t ever get cataract surgery.
Charlie and Ida had five kids. He had a daughter named Nannie, but she died. Then when they had another daughter, they named her Nannie to replace the Nannie that died. Apparently, that was fairly common.
Next, on my journey, I needed more information about Charlie’s mother, Quate, Peggy Wicked, and her mother, the so-called “full blood.” Charlie’s Mother not being named in the history book motivated me even more to find her.
Her one and only mention read:
“Peggie Wicked was a daughter of Josiah Wicked, whose wife was a full-blood Cherokee.” (That blood quantum turned out to be false.)
Using the handwritten Dawes application name I found: Peggy Wicked, English name. Indian name: Quate,
I wondered what Quate translated to.
I reached out to my friend Agalisiga Mackey who was, at that time, in the Cherokee Master Language Immersion School.
I asked him, “My second great grandfather’s name was Tchule Squit which meant Tin Cup. His mother’s name is listed as Quate, but it doesn’t say an English translation. Can you tell me what Quate meant?”
Agalisiga’s replied, “I asked the elders, and they say that word is so old that there is no translation left.”
No translation left.
And with that – I knew the Cherokee language was imminently important to me and to our cultural future.
Interestingly, the more I researched, I found that Quate was not a full blood at all. In fact, the story took several turns I did not expect.
According to the biography of Charlie in The History of Oklahoma Biographies Volume II:
“Charles Harman became a member of a company raised by Captain Blue Alberty, of Stand Watie's Regiment, and served six months, then joined the company of Captain Mose Fay, a Cherokee, with whom he served two years in the nation. At the expiration of this time he became a member of Captain Sam Gunter's Company, with General Stand Waitie, with whom the rest of his service was spent. At the close of the war Mr. Harman began farming near Webbers Falls, Muskogee County, Oklahoma, and resided there until 1869, when he removed to Texanna, in which section he has since made his home. He came to the present place in 1894. He has under good cultivation some one hundred acres of fine land, and is also engaged extensively in raising horses and cattle. Politically he is one of the "Old Line" Democrats. He takes an active interest in public affairs, and is accorded the full confidence and esteem of his fellow citizens. He is well known in the community where he has a host of friends.”
Discovering my great-great-grandfather Charles Harmon's involvement with Stand Watie's Regiment and his alignment with the Confederacy evokes a complex mix of emotions. On one hand, I'm confronted with the uncomfortable reality that he was on the wrong side of history, supporting a cause that perpetuated the oppression of many, including Indigenous peoples and African Americans. On the other hand, this revelation leaves me grappling with the nuances of his identity as a Cherokee man, navigating a tumultuous period in history. The knowledge of his actions and affiliations during the Civil War is difficult to reconcile, causing a sense of confusion and mixed sentiments as I attempt to understand the complexities of his choices and their impact on our family's legacy.
Artist Note: At the time of this writing, I have not yet clarified if Charlie owned slaves on his farm. I will update as I discover more. (8/4/24)
Continuing the Dark History
I became driven to continue the lineage and find the moment in my personal history when the white settlers first blended with the Natives – and anything I could learn about those people, their whereabouts, and what their lives were like.
It turned out that the story of inter-marriage was not a romance.
With the help of Gene Norris, Senior Genealogist with Cherokee Nation, I continued naming the people I come from and sourcing reliable stories about my ancestors.
Quate, Margaret “Peggy” Wicked
Quate’s mother, Presia Tidwell Wicked and her husband, Josiah Wicked
Josiah’s Parents: John Wicked and Nellie Graves
Nellie’s Parents: Edward Graves and Lah-Tah-Yie
Presia’s Parents: John Tidwell and Celia Gravitt
More illumination on these now named people only brought me more questions. I found a particularly troubling account of John Tidwell, my sixth-great grandfather and the story of his daughter Presia.
I assumed that at one point in my story, I would find a man who took an Indian woman as his wife. I did find that – But first I found something else: Quate’s mother, Presia, was white. Her father, Josiah, was “mixed” Cherokee. Not what I expected to find.
I quickly found the explanation for the story of a white woman marrying a Cherokee in Georgia in the 1993 book, Unhallowed Intrusion: A History of Cherokee Families in Forsyth County, Georgia by Don Shadburn (excerpt to follow.) I gained a memory of a time on the Chatahoochee River when white settlers wanted to settle – and mix – with the Cherokee.
John Tidwell (born between 1760-1770) had settled his family on this time on the west side of the Chattahoochee near Young Deer Creek. In addition to his wife Celia (born 1779), he had at least six daughters who bore children by Cherokees or mixed-bloods. Their Cherokee spouses [include] Josiah [Wicked] (mixed.)
The implication here is that John and Celia – white settlers – had a big pattern of their daughters marrying Cherokees. Why? I was not pleased with what I found.
"In the second decade of the nineteenth century, at the end of the Creek War, white families were settling up at a growing rate along the rivers and large streams in territory still possessed by the Cherokee Tribe. These white intruders were allowed to remain undisturbed at the discretion of the Cherokees. As a result of this intermingling of white and red, some contemporary Georgians feared the proliferation of a mixed-blood race."
"Hugh Montgomery, later appointed Cherokee agent by President Monroe, wrote a report on July 3, 1817 to Governor William Rabun after exploring the country along the Chatahoochee north of Stone Mountain, land soon to be treated away for Georgia by the Cherokees. He observed, somewhat cynically, that white men rented or leased land from Indians or mixed-bloods; still others would get an Indian to live with them and pretend to be his “cropper.” The Indian, in turn, hunted wild game and provided meat and hides, while the white tenants cultivated the land. Some white men, he continued, who were “more Lax in their morrels and still less Delecate in their taste,” were willing to “kiss a squaw for the privallage of [keeping] their Land and Range.”
"In time the intruder expanded his holdings, becoming a landlord himself with croppers, tenants, and hired laborers. Thus, in time, he would build up an entire settlement under his personal supervision and management."
"But, in Montgomery’s view, the most “abominable” practice was found among a certain class of white men who traded their daughters to the Indians for the sake of living in their country unmolested. Among this particular class, he noted, was John Tidwell." "Tidwell had already given 'four of his Daughters to Indian fellows for wives.'” "Finally, Montgomery concluded, this distasteful and immoral practice of intermarrying between races had produced a 'motly Race' that was 'propagating very fast on the Chattahoochee and its waters…'"
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I now had evidence that Presia was traded by her father to a mixed-blood Cherokee in order to gain land. John Tidwell had 17 children – and this is how he operated.
As a descendant of this "motley race" and the “abominable” practices of men like John Tidwell, I grapple with the complex legacy of my ancestry. In the early nineteenth century, during the tumultuous period following the Creek War, white settlers encroached on Cherokee lands, often forming tenuous and exploitative relationships with Native peoples. My sixth-great-grandmother, Presia, was among the daughters traded by her father to a mixed-blood Cherokee man, a transaction intended to secure land and stability amidst the shifting frontiers of Georgia.
This dark chapter of our family's history reveals the harsh realities faced by women, who were treated as commodities in a patriarchal society. The intermingling of white and Native peoples, though it resulted in the creation of a mixed-blood lineage, was rooted in coercive and unethical practices.
This atrocious practice is met with the fact that Josiah Wicked was willing to accept this trade.
So, who were Josiah’s parents and why would this Native would find this acceptable? The next questions focused on them: John Wicked and Nellie Graves – and her parents, Edward Graves and Lah-Tah-Yie. (See source 12.)
Thanks to Anthropological Papers, No. 77, The Wahnenauhi Manuscript: Historical Sketches of the Cherokees, edited by Jack Frederick Kilpatrick and published by the Smithsonian Institution*, I found Edward and La-Tah-Yie, a full-blood Cherokee, with a glimpse of their life:
"During the time of the Colonization of North America, by the Whites a number of English and Scotchmen came to the Cherokee Nation on trading expeditions, and on becoming acquainted with the people, soon found themselves so much pleased that they persuaded the Cherokees to adopt them and give them wives. Most of these men became very much interested in the welfare of the Indians, and tried to make their home-life more pleasant and comfortable."
"An Englishman, named Edward Graves, [51] who had married "Lah-to-tau-yie," [52] and sent to England for a spinning wheel, cards and cotton, and taught his wife to card and spin, he then made a loom, and taught her how to weave, and make clothing for herself and children. Lah-to-tau-yie learned the art very easily, for she was interested in the work, and wished to please her husband by dressing herself and children neatly. Edward Graves was a Christian and told his wife and children about God and the Savior, Jesus Christ and taught them to pray. Lah-to-tau-yie received this good news of salvation with a glad heart, she said, she knew about the great Being who made every thing, but she had never heard of the Savior, She told the Story to all her neighbors and relatives, and many of them became Christians, quite often many of them would meet in her cabin for prayer. Lah-to-tau-yie is supposed to be the first Cherokee converted to Christ. Her children all became Christians, and many of her descendants are now living, and honor the profession by consistent living."
And thus – I had found that I descend from Lah-to-tau-yie, the first Cherokee woman to be assimilated by a white man to Christianity.
In this book, written in Cherokee by a woman, Lah-to-tau-yie’s assimilation was described – down to “dressing herself and her children neatly” and the transition of her own spirituality to white saviorism.
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Cherokee Nation Chief Chuck Hoskin, Jr. said, “We are both a people that have been oppressed and exploited and, the truth is, at times in our history, we have oppressed and exploited. Those two things happened on the same plane, and I think that often doesn't make initial sense to people when they hear it, but it takes a deeper dive into history to understand some context in which these things are happening.”
He continued: “And I think that what was happening in the early 19th century in particular was the encroachment of white settlers around us in places like the state of Georgia, advancing on our lands and our resources.”
(A note on Lah-to-tau-yie’s name, cited [52] in the book reads, “We cannot translate this name with certainty. It might be iu:hl (i) dhaho:h (i) ('Bearer-of-Seeds-on-Top').)
The Ghost Dance
What if Lah-to-tau-yie had not accepted assimilation with this “glad heart” they speak of? Would Edward Graves have killed her? Is this the choice she had - Assimilate or die?
What choices do women have now? Modern-day oppression of women under the patriarchy continues to manifest in various ways, including wage disparities, underrepresentation in leadership positions, and pervasive gender-based violence. Women also face systemic barriers in accessing healthcare, reproductive rights, and educational opportunities. Additionally, societal expectations and stereotypes often limit women's potential and choices, compounded by a lack of generational opportunities to shape a world that reflects their values and experiences. This structural imbalance perpetuates gender inequality and inhibits the creation of an equitable society.
Native people have been questioning what our lives and country would have looked like without these atrocities and expressing it through music for over 100 years.
From Songs of Indian Territory, Native American Music Traditions of Oklahoma, edited by Dr. Willie Smyth, 1989:
"The Ghost Dance which reached Oklahoma Territory in 1890, began in Nevada. It was the result of a vision of a Paiute shaman, Wovoka, in which he saw the extinction of white people and the return of the old-time life and superiority of the Indians."
As an artist, my work finds a path forward while living with the unanswered possibilities.
On Cultural Identity
I have been fortunate to have traveled the globe from Japan to Europe. In London, when I studied at Sotheby’s Institute of Art and earned a Certificate in Business Leadership in Creative Industries. While I was there, a woman in my class who lived in London asked me, “What’s Oklahoma?”
My experience is that Oklahoma is a vast prairie of America’s untold stories, including mine and my ancestors who couldn’t read or write. I carry those stories wherever I go – and my travels have shown me that.
During my tenure on staff at Philbrook Museum of Art, I was fortunate to participate in a lecture from Crystal Echo Hawk with the cultural institution, Illuminative. She conducted a nationwide *survey on Native culture and made a startling discovery – The overarching theme for Natives is:
INVISIBILITY
What does invisibility mean for Native culture? Invisibility – not being represented, being oppressed, being forgotten – whether on purpose or by circumstances. Circumstances like mine, I realized. Invisible, even to myself. According to the *Illuminative Indigenous Futures Survey Report:
No “Real” Natives:
77% Feel that the average American thinks there are no “real” Native Americans Left.
Most participants believe that the average American does not think that there are any “real” Native Americans left. These perceptions align with past research demonstrating the non-Native individuals fail to think about or understand the experiences of contemporary Native peoples, including experiences related to racism and systemic inequality. (Fryberg & Eason, 2017; Reclaiming Native Truths, 2018)
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At the Cherokee National Holiday and Powwow in Park Hill near Tahlequah in 2022, I was browsing the vendor booths and found a piece of artwork with the words: “She remembered who she was and the game changed.”
On dispelling the myth that “All the Real Indians Died Off” in the book of the same name by Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz and Dina Gilio-Whitaker:
"The myth of the vanishing Native can be traced precisely to the impulse of the state to eliminate the Native. It can be thought of as the central organizing myth from which most other popular myths about Native people arise. As the predominant myth, it is informed by the past and reaches into the present and future to continue challenging ideas about who American Indians are on a cultural level, which has ramifications at the legal level in determination of who is an Indian and who is not. It is a fully exclusionary project that limits “Native” as a category of racial and political identity. This is why deconstructing myths about American Indians is so important. At their core, the debates about Indianness are debates about authenticity. Authenticity is predicated upon specific dynamics that define “real” Indians."
"These are “commonsense” understandings that are built into society’s dominant narratives, where certain assumptions are held to be unquestionably true. For example, real Indians are expected to look a certain way based on an appropriate minimum “blood quantum.” Or real Indians live on reservations, not in cities, and they embody the requisite appropriate blood quantum. These examples imply an impossible ideal about Indians as frozen in an unchanging past, where they are unable to be both modern and Indian."
As a modern Citizen of Cherokee Nation, I’ve seen a diverse range of fellow citizens and am proud of the modern inclusive spirit. Knowing the odds against which I am here, I recognize the importance of unity and solidarity among us. It is crucial that we resist internal divisions based on arbitrary standards of identity, as these only serve to perpetuate the divides historically imposed by oppressors, namely, blood quantum.
On February 22, 2021, Cherokee Nation removed the words “by blood” from its constitution by court order. The order reads that “the ‘by blood’ language is ‘illegal, obsolete and repugnant to the ideal of liberty.’”
The order continued, “These two words have no place in the Cherokee Nation, neither in present day, nor in its future."
As a Classical Native Composer
The history of white settlers blending with Native peoples brought profound cultural exchanges, including the introduction of the violin, an Italian instrument, and European music traditions. However, this blending was marred by the forced removal of Native peoples to Indian Territory, a devastating period that led to significant loss and displacement. The subsequent era saw further attempts at assimilation, with Native Americans and women facing cultural and language stripping through boarding schools designed to erase their identities.
As a modern Cherokee growing up in the 1980s and 1990s, I experienced the irony of playing the violin—a symbol of this complex cultural history—in school. This experience encapsulates the layered narrative of our past, where the very instrument introduced by settlers became a medium for my artistic expression, bridging the gap between my heritage and contemporary life.
Women who I descended from were told that they couldn’t wear their traditional clothes, speak their language, sing their songs, and live in their home land anymore. That they had to leave, they had to marry, they had to read the Bible. If they noticed something awry, they were told to not trust themselves, to not question authority. The oppression continued, generation after generation, cycles unbroken except by those willing to fight for rights.
This systemic exclusion significantly limited women's financial independence and opportunities, underscoring the pervasive barriers that have historically hindered gender equality and advancement.
As an artist and composer, I feel a profound responsibility to reclaim the cultural heritage that was forcibly taken from my ancestors. The trauma and resilience of those before me are deeply ingrained, shaping my identity and work. The pervasive nature of oppression manifests in various forms, including the often-heard assertion that if “you aren’t full-blood, you aren't Indian enough" and that you’re an imposter participating in your own culture.
This statement is a powerful example of the gaslighting faced by many Indigenous people through assimilation, particularly given the intentional erasure of Cherokee culture and identity through systemic means. My work seeks to honor and restore the language and stories of Cherokee women, challenging the narratives that have sought to diminish our heritage.
Sources:
1. The History of Oklahoma Biographies Vol. II, Luther B. Hill
2. Cherokee Roots, Volume 1: Eastern Cherokee Rolls, Bob Blankenship
3. Dawes Roll #18767, Citizenship issued March 3, 1905, Guion Miller Roll #13321, App. #6310
4. Unhallowed Intrusion: A History of Cherokee Families in Forsyth County, Georgia by Don Shadburn
5. Illuminative Indigenous Futures Survey Report: https://illuminative.org/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/indigenous_Futures_Survey_report_FINAL.pdf
6. Anthropological Papers, No. 77, The Wahnenauhi Manuscript: Historical Sketches of the Cherokees, edited by Jack Frederick Kilpatrick and published by the Smithsonian Institution: https://repository.si.edu/bitstream/handle/10088/22138/bae_bulletin_196_1966_77_175-214.pdf
7. Songs of Indian Territory, Native American Music Traditions of Oklahoma, edited by Dr. Willie Smyth, 1989
8. NPR Interview with Chief Chuck Hoskin, Jr. (Transcript): https://www.npr.org/transcripts/1110422542
9. “All the Real Indians Died Off” and 20 Other Myths about Native Americans, Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz and Dina Gilio-Whitaker
10. Counting the Dead: Estimating the Loss of Life in the Indigenous Holocaust, 1492-Present, David Michael Smith, University of Houston-Downtown:
11. Cherokee Nation Removes By Blood from its Constitution:
https://nativenewsonline.net/currents/cherokee-nation-removes-by-blood-from-its-constitution
12. Nellie Graves parents listed as Edward Graves and Lah-Tah-Yie:
Upon Our Ruins, Don Shadburn, pg. 245
13. Charles Harmon indicates Josiah Wicked/Wickett as grandfather in Eastern Cherokees Miller Application No. 6310