What is it about the Cherokee that attracts so many wanna-bes? (I’m thinking particularly of the Ward Churchill situation.) I believe the answer is that the Cherokee were led in the 19th century by an apparent mixed-blood elite: Chief Ross (who some commentators wrote had blue eyes), Elias Boudinot, the younger Ridge, and the genius Sequoya. Ross, I think, comes closest to the wanna-be ideal: the amount of Cherokee blood in his veins was rather small, yet he was beloved by the tribe, led them through the “Trail of Tears” and played a truly significant role in the history of Native Americans.

Professor Ward Churchill appears to be a wanna-be white man with a great deal of anger. Fortunately, or unfortunately, Mr. Churchill has put that anger at the disposal of the Red Power movement, and sadly enough, some of the members have embraced his message of hate. I do not believe in advocating armed revolt in my class rooms to a captive audience, as Churchill apparently does, neither do I believe in physical intimidation, as it is reported that the six foot five inch Churchill practices–especially with university women. This is all too easy to do in the air-conditioned buildings of the University of Colorado. What I do believe is that Professor Churchill should pack up his anger, turn his back on privilege and become Mr. Churchill. Let him take his anger into real-time America and decide what he is: a criminal or a law-abiding citizen, and begin from there. What Professor Ward Churchill is doing now is the equivalent of wearing a six-shooter strapped to his hip while teaching a creative writing class. Surely there’s a more admirable way. Chief Ross took the plight of the Cherokee to the Supreme Court and won. Elias Boudinot lectured to hundreds of average Americans in the early years of the 19th century and, with his intellect and his eloquence, convinced his audiences that Native Americans were more than capable of being thinkers and leaders. Sequoya showed whites that genius was also found among the indigenous tribes. These were non-violent men, who believed in rationality and law. I believe that Ward Churchill should take his obvious charisma, his dubious intellect and his apparent energy and enter the only “real-time” arena that counts–politics. That’s the true way to help “his” people and to bring about change in a civilized society–bombs won’t do it, preaching to the converted won’t do it, and speaking from both sides of one’s mouth about oneself and about the methods one advocates surely won’t do it.

Langston Hughes, much like his mentor Carl Sandberg, was always a “given” of high school English classes, and like any “given” we are liable to take him for granted. Recently, however, I’ve returned and taken a good hard look at Hughes and I like what I see–and hear! I guess my taste for Hughes can be traced back to my finding a recording of his performance of some of his blues poems backed up by a jazz band. Oral performance gives back the grit and the humor to texts that sometimes seemed a little thin. With Hughes’ voice in my ear–now trained by twenty years of listening to Tommy Johnson, Robert Johnson, Charlie Patton and the rest–I see–and hear–just what this man was up to! So Langston, if you’re listening somewhere–it took me a little while, but I get you now. Keep singing. Keep shouting ‘em down! I’d like to dedicate this blues to my son Derek, my brothers Jeff and Chris and their wives, my mother Kathleen, my father’s ghost and my ex-wives Eileen and Ann (and her wonderful family):

Life Is Fine

I went down to the river,
I set down on the bank.
I tried to think but couldn’t,
So I jumped in and sank.

I come up once and hollered!
I came up twice and cried!
If that water hadn’t a-been so cold
I might’ve sunk and died.

But it was
Cold in that water!
It was cold!

I took the elevator
Sixteen floors above the ground.
I thought about my baby
And thought I would jump down.

I stood there and I hollered!
I stood there and I cried!
If it hadn’t a-been so high
I might’ve jumped and died.

But it was
High up there!
It was high!

So since I’m still here livin’,
I guess I will live on.
I could’ve died for love–
But for livin’ I was born.

Though you may hear me holler,
And you may see me cry–
I’ll be dogged, sweet baby,
If you gonna see me die.

Life is fine!
Fine as wine!
Life is fine!

I’ve just finished an exciting book titled Monturiol’s Dream; the Extraordinary Story of the Submarine Inventor Who Wanted to Save the World, by Matthew Stewart (Pantheon, 338 pages with illustrations). This is the true story of the revolutionary Catalan inventor Narcis Monturiol, who built the first true submarine–with successful oxygen scrubbers that allowed the crew to stay submerged for up to four hours and an underwater steam engine that worked by chemical combustion instead of fire!–all of this way back in 1858. The submarine, which was built in two versions, was called the Ictineo–”the Fish” and its design perfectly embodied its name, because the inventor felt that his mystic ship was an “organic” machine–a living extension of human intelligence into a new realm. It had double hulls and observation windows that allowed the submariners to marvel at the wonders of the deep, and it could safely dive in up to five meters of open ocean, though the Catalan designed it to go much deeper. Unlike the inventors of the Hunley and the Alligator, Monturiol did not build his marvelous craft for battle. Instead, it was meant for scientific research, coral harvesting, and for the general advancement of humanity. Sounds beyond belief, doesn’t it? The fact is that every word is true! This incredible genius built a safe, reliable means of underwater exploration when submarine designers were still looked upon as elaborate coffin builders. Why have we not heard of Monturiol before? Most of the information concerning his life and career are in Spanish. As I read this book, however, Monturiol’s personality and the design of the Ictineo grew more and more familiar. Of course! Jules Verne had based his Captain Nemo–with his quirky mixture of idealism and inventive genius–on the Catalan inventor and the Nautilus is merely the Ictineo raised to the realm of science fantasy.

Stewart’s scholarship and his ability to explain the politically complicated times in which Monturiol pursued his dream are first-rate. I heartily recommend this book.