By Sasha Alex Lessin, Ph.D. (Anthropology, UCLA)
“It is not a figure of speech,” the old Cherokee man said, staring into the embers of the council fire. “It was a real trail. And those were real tears.”
BEFORE THE WHITES CAME
Long before Andrew Jackson’s men forced them west, the CHEROKEE had walked between two worlds—the red world of hunting and the white world of peace. They lived in balance, as their great goddess of life and corn—SELU, the Corn Mother—commanded. She was to them what NINMAH, the Sumerian Mother of Humanity, was to Mesopotamia: the fertile principle of compassion and renewal, giver of food and life’s cycles.
Their year followed that rhythm. In winter, when they planted and harvested, they lived in matrilineal clans—children belonged to the mother’s line; uncles guided the youth. Women held the fires of decision. In summer, when the men hunted buffalo and deer on the plains, they became patrilineal, following their fathers and the hunting chiefs. It was a rhythm of transhumance, a social migration as natural as the seasons themselves.
“When the snow stays, we belong to our mothers,” one elder told a white trader who had not yet learned to sneer. “When the sun walks long, we belong to our fathers. In both ways, the People stay in balance.”
THE GREEN CORN AND THE MOTHER OF ALL
Each new year, when the corn ripened, they held the Green Corn Ceremony. Old fires were extinguished, ashes swept away. A new flame, kindled in the east, rose as the people danced, fasted, and forgave wrongs. Renewal for body, land, and soul.
This rite echoed Ninmah’s ancient ceremony of rebirth in Sumer, where she cleansed the clay and gave humanity new breath. Both the Cherokee Selu and the Mesopotamian Ninmah taught that renewal required purification, gratitude, and forgiveness—the partnership code of life itself.
THE WHITE MAN’S HUNGER
Then came the Europeans—driven by gold, cotton, and the god of domination. In 1803, the Louisiana Purchase nearly doubled the size of the young nation. Settlers—axe, plow, and Bible in hand—poured west.
They called the Cherokee, Choctaw, Chickasaw, Creek, and Seminole the Five Civilized Tribes because they had schools, farms, written constitutions, and even newspapers. Yet civilization could not save them from greed.
“Your land is rich,” the trader said, marking a map.
“Our land is sacred,” replied the Cherokee headman.
“Sacred doesn’t pay taxes.”
When GOLD was found in Cherokee, Georgia, even heaven was not safe. Andrew Jackson, that swaggering general—the Trump of his day—promised white voters land, gold, and cotton. He signed the INDIAN REMOVAL ACT OF 1830, swearing it would be “voluntary.” But Jackson’s “voluntary” meant at gunpoint.
The CHEROKEE NATION resisted with law, not war. They appealed to the SUPREME COURT. Chief Justice John MARSHALL RULED FOR THEM in Worcester v. Georgia (1832)—Georgia had no authority over Cherokee lands.
But Jackson scoffed: “John Marshall has made his decision—now let him enforce it.”
“So this is your justice?” a Cherokee delegate asked a congressman.
“Justice is what we can afford,” came the congressman’s reply.
THE MARCH WEST
In 1838, Jackson’s successor, MARTIN VAN BUREN, sent General Winfield SCOTT with the U.S. Army.
They broke into homes, dragged families from hearths, and drove them into filthy stockades. The old were shoved beside infants, the sick beside soldiers’ muskets.
Then began the long march—1,200 miles through ice, mud, and hunger. Sixteen thousand Cherokee set out; nearly a third died from disease, exposure, soldier brutality or despair. Mothers buried babies in unmarked snow. Elders prayed in whispered syllables of the old tongue: “Aniyv Wadoh Ninmah, give us strength to endure.”
THE LEGACY OF LOSS AND RESILIENCE
The Choctaw, Creek, Chickasaw, and Seminole suffered the same fate—fraudulent treaties, forced marches, and thousands dead. One Choctaw chief called it “a trail of tears and death.”
Yet the People rebuilt. In what became Oklahoma, they re-established governments, schools, and the Cherokee Phoenix press. They held new Green Corn ceremonies beside Baptist hymns, blending their old spirituality with Christianity—Corn Mother beside Mary, Ninmah’s compassion beside Christ’s forgiveness.
Their partnership spirit endured, even under domination. For the Cherokee, every dawn remains a chance to go once more to the water—to cleanse, to remember.
CONCLUSION
The Trail of Tears was not a metaphor—it was a wound across the continent. But the Cherokee walk still, between the worlds of memory and renewal, carrying Ninmah’s and Selu’s message: that the Mother endures when her children remember balance.
#TrailOfTears #Cherokee #AndrewJackson #IndianRemovalAct #GreenCornCeremony #Selu #Ninmah #Matrilineal #Transhumance #PartnershipConsciousness #DominationConsciousness #NativeAmericanSpirituality #CherokeeChristianSyncretism #WinfieldScott #WorcestervGeorgia #Oklahoma #Rebirth
For further study:
- Cherokee Spirituality – Dawni Saloli & Abraham Bearpaw (Cherokee Nation Cultural Outreach)
A clear, authentic overview of traditional Cherokee practices, going-to-water rituals, and balance teachings.
👉 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ztPktQUa7_w - Cherokee History, Culture, Spiritual Beliefs & Practices – Ken Phillips (Earth & Spirit Center)
Shows the unbroken chain from pre-Christian cosmology through modern syncretic worship.
👉 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7ZcJrM-MGwc - Green Corn Ceremony: Renewal and Reconciliation – Muscogee & Cherokee Elders Panel
Explains symbolism of the corn, fire, and forgiveness cycle—echoes of Ninmah’s rebirth themes.
👉 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rqmgjq6W_NA - Cherokee Language and Prayer – Cherokee Nation Language Department
Demonstrates spiritual resilience through spoken language, the living vessel of ceremony.
👉 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uq4rYJ5Bn9A - The Trail of Tears Documentary – PBS LearningMedia / Native Voices
Historical foundation behind the narrative
