A Letter to Edna Chekelelee

Dear Edna Chekelelee,

My class has just recently been reading Living Stories of the Cherokee and I really enjoyed your stories particularly. 

They were not too long; they were not short in meaning or worth, either.  They were perfect and told perfect stories.  I laughed at a few of them and some of them left me very somber.  Your stories had all the characteristics of a well written novel or a classic movie—light in some parts but not to be outdone by the sadness that is real in this world.

I can only imagine what you and your people have experienced in the past as well as the present, and I can only hope that in the future that things improve.  I love how in “Storytelling” you say that you grew up listening at the foot of old people and they would tell you to shoo and you would sneak back to listen.  I do not know if you were an eldest child, like I was, or a shy child, like I was, but I also used to want to be around the adults and listen to stories and hear real conversations more than just going off and playing with my toys.

Your stories have a wistful aspect to them.  The first one in Living Stories of the Cherokee, “Cherokee Language” is sort of silly and sad and far away all at once.  What were you thinking while you wrote it?  It reminds me of the Indian Boarding Schools, the part where you had to wash your mouth out with soap.  Similarly, but not even close, my father used to have to wash his mouth out with soap when he spoke French in his Catholic elementary school in New Orleans.  They tried to stamp it out of him too. 

The first few stories really connect you and your people to nature and the earth.  It sets a good tone for how someone who is not Cherokee should view the mindset, I think.  Is this what you were trying to do?  To introduce how a Cherokee person feels about the planet and the living things that comprise it before going into other stories?

After these introductory stories things start to get more serious.  It almost feels like a stand up routine—you start off light and then you bring in the serious topics, like the Trail of Tears.  Many of your stories towards the end are about the Trail of Tears and what happened.  I was wondering if you had heard quite a few from sitting by the elders when you were younger?  The image of the 150 year old basket is really moving in “The Trail of Tears Basket”.  I think of that coupled with the previous story “Elders on the Mountain” and the drumming and how the soldiers had guns.  I can imagine this basket and the people and the franticness of everything.  When you start to think of these stories, can you think about nothing else?  I feel as though this subject is something that you cannot shake for a long time once you start to talk about it.  I was wondering if that was the case for you and for everyone—once you start hearing and thinking and saying stories about the Trail of Tears, is it impossible to stop for a time?  Does it engulf you? 

Thank you for taking the time to read this.  I hope it finds you well and that you are continuing to share your stories with the world.  I’m glad that I could read your stories and laugh and ponder about the things that you shared. 

Sincerely,

Justine Tullos