Editor’s Note: This interview first appeared in Path Finders, an email newsletter from the Daily Yonder. Each week, Path Finders features a Q&A with a rural thinker, creator, or doer. Like what you see here? You can join the mailing list at the bottom of this article and receive more conversations like this in your inbox each week.
ᎤᎶᎩᎳ / Schon Duncan is a proud member of the United Keetoowah Band of Cherokee Indians, a Cherokee language activist, and co-director of the feature-length film ᏓᏗᏬᏂᏏ (We Will Speak).
While there are 430,000 Cherokee citizens in the three federally recognized tribes, fewer than 2,000 fluent speakers remain—the majority of whom are elderly. The documentary chronicles the efforts of Duncan and other activists, artists, and educators fighting to save the Cherokee language from the brink of extinction. Among other locations, it takes viewers into secluded communities in rural Oklahoma where the Cherokee language is still being spoken and taught by first-language speakers.
I met Duncan in Hazard, Kentucky, during a viewing of the film at the Appalachian Big Ideas Festival. Artfully done, ᏓᏗᏬᏂᏏ (We Will Speak) generated conversation among participants both as an intimate portrait of modern Cherokee life and a hope-filled human story about reclaiming identity and culture against overwhelming odds. Enjoy our conversation below.
ᏓᏗᏬᏂᏏ (We Will Speak) is currently on the film festival circuit.
This conversation has been edited for length and clarity.
Kim Kobersmith, The Daily Yonder: ᏓᏗᏬᏂᏏ “We Will Speak” tells of the movement to increase the number of people who speak and write the Cherokee language, creating a wave of second language learners. How did people in your community become aware of the problem and become motivated to do something about it?
ᎤᎶᎩᎳ / Schon Duncan: A lot of the people who spoke Cherokee didn’t see it as a bad thing that their grandchildren didn’t speak. It was actually considered a move towards social upward movement. What they didn’t realize was that this was not going to solve the problem of prejudice that was rampant in the educational system and the world at-large. Their children and the children after them were still going to be treated as indigenous people, even if they didn’t speak the language. In fact, it left a lot of people grasping for any semblance of an identity that they felt they didn’t have or was kept from them.
So the true awakening wasn’t making the community aware of what was happening, but actually caring that it was happening. And that was done through a lot of work by language activists before my time. When the world tells you that your way of thinking and speaking is of no value for decades, it takes a lot of healing and patience to create the environment that a movement needs to grow.
DY: The film points out that people in your generation are the first to actively decide to keep the Cherokee language. We learn you graduated from the Cherokee Language Master-Apprentice Program in 2019 and are now a Cherokee Language Teacher at Dahlonegah Public School in Stilwell, OK. Why did you choose to become a language teacher and student? What have you learned about your Cherokee identity through it?
ᎤᎶᎩᎳ: When I was young, I would write gibberish on paper and tell everyone I was writing a Cherokee newspaper. I often reflect on the kid who did that. They were actively trying to fill a gap of knowledge that they felt so deeply.
In 2015, my grandfather passed away and he was the last speaker in my direct line. In his last few weeks, he did not want to speak English, and it really hit me that he was not able to experience his death surrounded by people who spoke in his first way of thinking. Soon after, I learned of the Master-Apprentice program and applied. Through this program, I not only learned the language but I built relationships with elder-teachers: Doris Shell, Gary Vann, Cora Flute, David Crawler, Jerry Ross, Marlene Ballard, and Phyllis Sixkiller, just to name a few who made a lasting impact on me.
When you learn a language, you are not only learning words. You are learning a worldview and tradition. A culture comes alive in its language. So we were taught traditions that have only been passed down in our language. Burial and funeral traditions, gathering plants, food preparation, and even histories that are only written in our language were opened to us.
DY: There are some beautiful intergenerational moments in the film: when your own father attends your language class, when [producer of the film] Keli’s grandparents arranged chairs in the elementary school hallway to watch her paint a Cherokee mural. Why is it important to tell the language story in the context of families and different generations?
ᎤᎶᎩᎳ: In today’s society, we’re taught that “the rugged individual” is the key to success, but it’s honestly the downfall. When we divide ourselves from the people who made us and the people we are a continuation of, we lose what it means to be Cherokee. It was important to keep that aspect of Cherokee culture throughout the film – to not only show intergenerational trauma, but also to show intergenerational healing, joy, and relationships.
We also cannot revitalize our language without lifting those who have struggled because they spoke it, especially those who were disadvantaged in the toughest times of keeping our language. That’s why it was our mission to honor every generation in our collective story: those who are gone, those who are here, and those to come.
DY: I imagine one of the directorial challenges was sharing some of the painful history that caused the loss of the language while keeping the overall arc of the movie positive (which you did beautifully). What did you consider about how to provide this context?
ᎤᎶᎩᎳ: This was one of the hardest things about the film to balance. Whether it’s old westerns or even modern portrayals of past events (à la Scorsese’s “Killers of the Flower Moon”), we’ve been bombarded by images of the trauma and violence perpetuated on Indigenous people in America. Also, there were a plethora of intentional attacks on our language to perpetuate cultural genocide: boarding schools, forced removals, and overall societal devaluing of indigenous languages. But there is so much more to our stories.
We had to have long conversations about what was necessary to contextualize the reasoning behind this movement and what would be considered trauma porn. Thankfully, I had co-director Michael McDermit and editor Jacob Koestler to help with this balance. As white men, they were able to help me see what was necessary for non-Indigenous audiences to learn before they could feel the impact of hope and joy that I was fighting for in this film.
DY: This is a Cherokee story, and it is important that Cherokee people help tell it. How did you get involved with the film?
ᎤᎶᎩᎳ: When I first met the team, I was just a subject they were interviewing about the language on their initial visit to the area. Once the interview was done, I invited them to hang out and told them that I knew how this story should be told because I knew the people who this story was about.
From there the work bloomed into a beautiful collaboration, all of us trying to bring the best of ourselves to this important story. Keli Gonzales, Cherokee subject and producer of the film, also joined the team. It is made so much richer by having a Cherokee woman’s voice and discernment in its production.
DY: What changes have you seen in your community because of the movement to reclaim the Cherokee language? What gives you hope as you look to the future?
ᎤᎶᎩᎳ: Growing up, they would tell us that if you did not first speak Cherokee as a baby, you could not learn it. Today, I have elders who refuse to speak English to me and push me to never speak English to them. Every day I see all kinds of people take on the task of learning our language. They are getting support from our community of first-language speakers and are encouraged to keep going in their language journey like never before in our history.
Also, our first language speakers are getting the grace to heal from the things that they have endured for simply existing as Cherokee speakers. I hope they know that when they impart words that they’ve kept with them for so long, I know the importance of that act of giving a part of themselves to me. And in turn, whatever work that may come in my life, film or otherwise, they will always live on within it. Their names and contribution to making me a better Cherokee will never be forgotten.
This interview first appeared in Path Finders, a weekly email newsletter from the Daily Yonder. Each Monday, Path Finders features a Q&A with a rural thinker, creator, or doer. Join the mailing list today, to have these illuminating conversations delivered straight to your inbox.
Republish our articles for free, online or in print, under a Creative Commons license.
