Redeeming the Incidental Indian
Sarah Ballan
Beth Brant, "Grandmothers of a New World" (1988)
[1] Mohawk writer Beth Brant is on a mission, a mission to redeem the reputations of Powhatan princess Pocahontas and Cherokee Beloved Woman Nancy Ward. Touted as "good friends" of the whiteman in white legend because of actions complicit with white welfare, these two famous Native American women are simultaneously scorned as "traitors" to their race. In "Grandmothers of a New World" (1988, 1994), Brant joins with such other redeemers as Hanay Geiogamah and Monique Mojica in combating white "history" about and white "adoption" of such influential Native American women. For mixed-race lesbian Brant -- whose missionary writing career literally began at the late age of forty with a dramatic highway meeting with and call by Eagle -- Pocahontas and Ward were similarly "conduit(s) through which Creator spoke" (1994, 97), women with "vision," women who "lived with spirits" (1994, 98). They had a vision of the future, a vision of a mixed-race future, a vision of "glorious mixtures" coming together as families, a vision of a New World (1994, 103). In short, Pocahontas and Ward, in contrast and contradiction to their white representations, truly deserve to be known as "grandmothers of a new world." Deeply engaged in recovery writing of all sorts, for Brant, whose own "Mohawk, Irish, Scots, Polish, Cree, French, Norwegian, Cherokee" grandsons embody "the blood of the future" (1994, 103), the mission is to make "their dream" ours (1988, 60). In so doing, Pocahontas and Ward will become integral not "incidental" to the vital living history of Native American culture (1994, 96).
[2] Brant strives to reclaim both Pocahontas and Ward (also known as Nanye'hi) by examining the fallacies in the respective tales and consequently redefining their roles as diplomatic peacekeepers with clear visions of a new world. Brant retells Pocahontas's story in chronological order while correcting the mistruths along the way. Troubled by the lack of validity in most "white" retellings of Pocahontas's story, Brant assertively redefines Pocahontas's motives for saving John Smith as a means of survival. According to white historians, the most widespread versions include a "racist and untrue depiction of her romance with John Smith, and her willingness to die for him" (1994, 87). This promotes the idea that Smith was so astoundingly wonderful that Pocahontas not only defies her father but also risks her own life to save his. Does her true loyalty lie with the white man? In reality, Brant reminds us, Pocahontas's so-called love affair with Smith is still a topic of debate. Brant interprets this focus on romance as a means of "bolster[ing] the ego of the whiteman" (1994, 85). According to Brant, instead of being driven by feelings of passion, Pocahontas saves Smith out of desperation to keep her people alive. Brant claims her act was "the alternative to genocide" (1994, 85). Pocahontas knew that the strange settlers had powerful ammunition and that her people were ill-equipped to fight them. She was also aware that the settlers did not know how to cultivate crops to grow food. Contradictory to the savage-like image the Native Americans came to bear, diplomacy was an important part of their culture. If they "were as warlike as the history books would like us to believe, there would not have been any of us left when the first whiteman staggered onto our lands" (1994, 85). Therefore, Pocahontas's true motivation for saving Smith was diplomatic -- "Pocahontas was probably the first ambassador to the British" (1994, 85) -- and was an attempt to foster a symbiotic relationship that would ideally continue for future generations.
[3] Many Native Americans are troubled with the white notion that Pocahontas's conversion to Christianity showed her willingness to renounce her former way of life. Thus, Brant challenges Pocahontas's reasons for conversion. She claims that Pocahontas, in converting, seized the opportunity to expand her realm of knowledge and enlarge her community, rather than replacing her fundamental values with Christian ideals. In James Nelson Barker's lily-white The Indian Princess (1808), Pocahontas calls herself a savage and furthermore alludes to the Christian faith as the right way of life: "O! 'tis thee that I have drawn my being: Thou'st ta'en me from the path of savage error" (Barker 52). In this confession Pocahontas admits to her savagery and tells Rolfe that he has taught her "heavenly truths" (Barker 52). Barker's clever manipulation of the dialogue sends the message to the audience that Pocahontas realizes her uncivilized ways and that being in love with Rolfe inspired her to change. Furthermore, she was a "savage" until Rolfe showed her the right way to live. However, Brant offers a new perspective on the matter and suggests that Pocahontas's conversion was only "half-hearted" – she was more excited to become literate (1994, 88). Pocahontas agreed to learn more about the dominant European religion as the result of a decision "guided by a divine power," not specifically the Christian Lord but "a communion with the Creator" (1994, 88). This religious adaptation was her way of fulfilling her destiny of "keeping her people alive," and the way to do that was not to conquer the English but to merge with them (1994, 88). Whether or not the conversion itself was Pocahontas's idea is still unknown; however, Brant challenges Pocahontas's overall acceptance of the religion by arguing that her intention was to better understand her new white neighbors rather than become one of them. She hoped this amalgamation would bring the two cultures together, not require a tradeoff.
[4] Pocahontas's motivation to save Smith and convert to Christianity was part of her larger plan, which hoped for compatibility between Natives and whites in future generations. For instance, she consciously chose the name Rebecca, who in the ancient biblical legend was prophesized to be "the mother of thousands of millions, and let thy seed possess the gate of those which hate them" (1994, 91). Her choice in name signified her plan to bring a child of mixed race into the world, a child literally of two cultures. She hoped her strategy would maintain equilibrium between the two societies and that eventually this combined way of life would become the norm. Pocahontas was a prophet with a vision of a new world in which people are made up of many races and nations.
[5] Pocahontas's final words -- "it is enough the child liveth" (1994, 96) -- confirm her expectation that her legacy would continue and help unify the whites and Natives, or at least keep her culture alive. Her plans were thwarted by her untimely death and her husband's failure to continue the compound upbringing by foolishly thinking "the Brit way was the only way" to raise their child (1994, 95). His bias conquered her vision, as she was not there to infuse Native American culture into her son, Thomas. Consequently, he grew up and eventually fought against the Indians. Pocahontas is blamed by association. Had she been alive, the story would have a much different outcome, and her ideas would have set a precedent for the mindsets of future generations. But her dream ended when she passed away. Not only did Rolfe fail his wife's dream, but also he "failed all of us [Native Americans]" (1994, 95). His ignorance accounted for his son's purely "white" upbringing and caused Pocahontas to be remembered as fully assimilated. In reality, she had plans to change the future, not surrender to the dominant culture.
[6] The other underrated Native American heroine Brant resuscitates is Cherokee woman Nancy Ward (Nanye'hi). Similar to Pocahontas, Nanye'hi's goal was to uphold peace with the white men in order to protect her nation from being wiped out. She was known as the "Beloved Woman" to the Cherokee, an honor that was bestowed upon her during a time of conflict in the nation (1994, 97). This important status signifies her admiration from both the Cherokee people and from Creator, as well as confirming she was a "conduit through which Creator spoke" (1994, 97). The Cherokees were caught in the middle of tension existing between France and England in the late 1700s. Nanye'hi's determination to maintain the balance and peace was misinterpreted by some of her descendents as disloyal and "lackey to the British" (1994, 98). Brant is outraged by Nanye'hi's portrayal as a traitor and considers it the epitome of oppression and an attempt to "make us [Native Americans] forget the glory and story of our own history" (1994, 98). In reality, Nanye'hi did not hand over Cherokee land to the white men. Not only is selling land excluded from Native American policy, but her intentions were to preserve her heritage.
[7] Like Pocahontas, Nanye'hi eventually married a white man and gave birth to a mixed-race child. Despite her seemingly assimilated lifestyle, Nanye'hi did not abandon her Native morals. Brant first points to Nanye'hi's method of raising her child, as she chose to send her husband away after giving birth. She asks rhetorically, "Did she [Nanye'hi] have a vision of a new people also?" (1994, 98). Perhaps raising her daughter among the Cherokee people was a means of instilling traditional values in addition to the white ones that would eventually have been subjected to her by her father and modern society. Although she was estranged from her Cherokee community, Nanye'hi asserted herself and reminded them when their values went astray. In 1776, a group of Cherokee men captured a white woman, Lydia Bean, and were going to burn her alive. Nanye'hi stepped in and reminded her fellow Indians that the fact they were ready to kill a woman, regardless of race, went completely against the fundamentals of their matriarchal society. The Cherokee's eagerness to kill shows the extent of how "Native beliefs were being swept away by Colonialism" (1994, 99). Furthermore, Brant argues that the dominant change in worldview brought on feelings of self-doubt and self-loathing among the Natives and was in turn responsible for tearing "the material out of [their] nations" (1994, 99). Nanye'hi never lost sight of her traditional values and tried to keep them alive.
[8] Brant is troubled by the white's failure to mention ways in which the English actually benefited from interactions with the Natives and participated in their rituals. After saving Lydia's life, Nanye'hi cared for her at Nanye'hi's ancestral home. No one knows much about their relationship other than that Nanye'hi learned how to make butter and cheese from the "whiteman's buffalo" (1994, 100). Brant poses a few remaining questions to her readers: "But what of Lydia Bean? Did she learn of the spirits? Did she learn that women's voices were the means to Creator? Did she become assimilated into the Native way of seeing and being?" (1994, 100). Although these questions are not yet answered, Brant hints at a mutually beneficial relationship that is strategically unspoken as a means to elevate dominant culture.
[9] Although the Native Americans were an established people long before the English settlers occupied the land, they are usually described in derogatory ways. Specifically, they are portrayed "as the noble savage, the romantic princess, the pathetic maiden, the red villain or the drunken and lazy rascal, but never . . . [as] a human being" (Stading 201). In these "white" renditions, Pocahontas's red skin is redeemed by her willingness to assimilate to the more dominant European way. In reality, she did not abandon her old way of life. Her son was not baptized right after birth. Instead, his first exposure in life was to the native "chanting and singing of her people" because she wanted him to be familiar with and appreciate both worlds (1994, 91). Furthermore, Brant informs us that Rolfe was honored to be a part this ritual, an "assimilation of a kind that is never discussed or written about" (1994, 92). The lack of acknowledgement of Pocahontas's heritage receives makes the heroine come across as merely an "incidental Indian" (1994, 96). Outraged by this inaccurate portrayal, Brant insists that this "false European legend must end. Pocahontas's honour demands it" (194, 96). Brant suggests that the white supremacists are too afraid "to admit that another way of seeing may be a more integrated way of being in the world, as opposed to Manifest Destiny" (1994, 92). Failure to write about the ways in which the whites partook in Native traditions implies a refusal to admit the successful contributions from so-called savages. Brant demands to know what else the white men are hiding. It is confirmed that both Pocahontas and Nanye'hi were literate women who therefore "must have put their ideas and thoughts on paper" (1994, 101). Where are those "precious documents?" (1994, 101).
[10] Beth Brant is deeply offended by the idealized, distorted image Pocahontas and Nanye'hi have come to represent and insists their respective "assimilations" were not a complete replacement of Native culture, rather an addition. She argues that these two women in particular were proud of their heritages and worked to promote a new way of life that would incorporate both white and Native American ideals. She voices their shared dream to live in a new world with "glorious mixtures," and she argues that the Native Americans made important cultural contributions to the Europeans that remain unspoken (1994, 103). As a grandmother of mixed-race herself, she thinks it is extremely important to "tell the truthful story of the Americas" (1994, 103). Brant's powerful essay provides evidence for new, truer claims to help unite the Native American people in attempts to redeem their collective past. Through a unique lens she tries to deconstruct the stereotypes perpetrated by whites on Native American heroines and reconstitute the truth in the minds of current Native Americans in attempts to re-educate future generations. Ultimately, she focuses on changing the warped negative view Native Americans have of their ancestors, giving the future age group a chance to replace the shame with respect for their relatives so they can continue to be a proud people despite how low they are in numbers.