The Seven Clans

There’s a certain comfort living out in the country. No traffic or neighbors to disturb the peace, only the sounds of crickets snoring and stars twinkling at night. The dense forest climbing over the high hill in back is like a green fortress of protection. The two cows who roam the front perimeter, keep guard around the sides of the house, or so it might seem to aliens. Several horses graze in the lower pasture, between the lower highway and the red gate entrance into Happy Acres. Five or six chickens who freely roam the yard are like pawns guarding the castle . . . at least there used to be five or six chicken pawns when I arrived a week ago. Let me correct myself . . . and five or six not so happy dead chickens and a couple very well fed bobcats. I guess Jimmy was out on the other side of the house practicing with his bow and arrow, when the wily cats plucked their prey out of the yard without a whimper, or a buck, buck, buck. Bobcats are about twice as big as ordinary house cats, and way faster. They mostly come out at night, and therefore are rarely seen. I’m sorry for Buffy and Jimmy’s loss, and at the same time I rejoice with the fact that wildlife such as the bobcat, cougar, deer, bear, fox, and wolf still thrive right here in the backyard of the house I’m staying in. Not to mention little critters like squirrel, chipmunk, muskrat and groundhog, which the bobcat also enjoys nibbling on.



I took the tour of the Cherokee Village the other day. The whole village was compressed into about 1/4 acre of land, so it was like a walk around a big house. For $20 the Indians sure know how to scalp the white man. Pay back is a motherf@#$%^r. (in contrast, the Henry Ford was at least 100 acres, filled with authentic houses and factories, with costumed guides everywhere - $21 admission) I arrived just in time to join 20 other pilgrims - sort of like a turkey walk around the barn yard. It was nice there - lots of trees and running water on the sloped terrain.




A 19th century Cherokee cabin



Running Bear, (not his real name), our young buck real Cherokee Indian guide with the black painted face, took usfrom the old yarn weaver woman, who was bloated from too many white man hamburgers and fries, to the old basket weaver woman, who was bloated from . . . to the old potter woman, who was bloated . . . to the old man blow-gun maker, who was . . . to the old maskmaker, who . . . I wouldn’t say anything about tribal fat, because Running Bear looked like he would have no problem rearranging my hairline, except he probably couldn't dig a hole in the sand with the fat wooden knife tucked in his sash. He dispelled any doubts of his warrior ability with a blow-gun demonstration. He picked up the blow-gun, which is a bamboo looking reed around ten feet long - and without hesitation sent three handmade darts forty feet to the bullseye - one after the other - dead center. I was impressed.

The most important reason I was there happened in the Clan’s round house. The Indian woman giving the talk was impressive - explaining the Cherokee Seven Clan history with power and conviction. She was solid and beautiful - in her 50’s, and judging from her passion and physique, she probably only ate Indian food. She was from the Wolf Clan, the warriors, one of the seven clans that make up the Cherokee tribe. She was one of the Beloved - the name for a highly honored woman warrior. 300 years ago this woman would have been the Indian Queen, no doubt.

In the round house there was a central fire, the eternal flame that was traditionally kept alive by two warriors, their only job in life. Radiating from the fire, the sand below was separated into seven sections, in which the seven clans brought seven different kinds of woods to feed the fire. Each clan had a name that corresponded to the seven levels of spiritual progression of the human spirit as it grew and evolved on the path through life.

In Cherokee society, the language, social structure, and interaction with the natural world were viewed as an interwoven tapestry that were inseparable and that existed this way to preserve the balance of forces between the two worlds, the world of physical reality, and the world of spirituality.

There was a strong belief that all the elements of nature were in balance, and that this balance had to be restored if disturbed by the human element - by "The People." The seven clans were 1. Long Hair Clan - they were the peace keepers and never cut their hair, 2. Deer Clan - they kept the deer and were the swift runners who carried messages, 3. Wild Potato Clan - they collected potatoes and protected the earth, 4. Bird Clan - keeper of birds and feathers, 5. Blue Holly Clan - keeper of herbs, 6. Red Paint Clan - keeper of the Medicine, 7. Wolf Clan - largest of the clans - it was the warrior clan and keeper of the wolves.

There was a Peace Chief, usually a Long Hair, and a War Chief from the Wolf Clan. Time of Peace was represented by the white feathers and Time of War was represented by the Red feathers. People knew were they were in Peace or War by what feathers were displayed.

But, traditionally the Cherokee were a matrilineal society. Family kinship ties in the Cherokee tribe are determined by the mother's clan. Children are automatically members of the mother's clan at birth. I’m not sure how men and women from the different clans met, but it was against the law, punishable by death, to “marry” someone from your own clan. All children were raised by the mother’s clan, and their father was the wife’s brother. Blood father’s never raised their own children. Each matrilineal clan was run by a council of grandmothers from that clan. The decisions and rulings of the Grandmothers were not to be questioned.

The clans never interacted with each other - they just did their particular function that kept the whole of the tribe functioning properly, except when they joined together in battle. When village decisions needed to be made, the grandmothers and representatives of the seven clans met in the round house, but it was divided so they never saw each other. Each clan spoke and a decision was made for the good of the whole.

All this worked perfectly well for probably thousands of years - until the white man came and screwed everything up. But that's another story. Here's a picture from the Cherokee Museum - of Cherokee Chiefs in the late 1700's when they were first beginning to take on the white man ways. (where were the Grandmothers?!)