Jonaya Williams Period 3 10-18-11

Nunna Dual Tsuny

The moon was so bright when you were born. Grandmother was telling me the story of how I was born again. I loved it. The story somehow made me feel closer to my mother, it made her seem more real. That is how you got your name Granddaughter. Megena means moon. Your mother had always been fond of the moon. She loved the roaming with the animals of the night. That is how your brother got his name. Mai means coyote. Oh, how Galilahi was such a beautiful, strong spirit. She is missed in many ways. That is enough for tonight Megena, it is time for bed. I wondered if this meant I was as bright as the moon when I was born. If so, I am no longer that way. My skin in the palest of the tribe. My hair was not black like the rest, but a pale shade of brown as well. I was an outcast for my light color. I personally think that my father was a white man, and my grandmother refuses to tell me so. All she will tell me is that they were killed in a quarrel with the white men. I was just about to get into my night gown when our neighbor, Cocheta, burst in. Anevay! Come quick! We have to go now! Cochenta was practically screaming. I had never seen him like this. Usually, he was quite handsome. He was three years my senior. He had nice, smooth russet colored skin, a very muscular build, and a long black ponytail that he wears proudly. Now though, he looked wild. His eyes were darting back and forth as if he were looking for something and his hair was out of its usual pony tail and stuck to his face with sweat. Cocheta! Calm yourself! What is the matter? My grandmother had raised her voice at him a little higher than she normally would, probably because she was just about to change into her nightgown as well. We need to go now, Cocheta had nearly screamed in a panicked voice, The white men are here. We need to move, they are removing us.

Removing us? What did he mean by removing us? Surely it was impossible to move someone. My grandmother and I were thinking the same thing. Removing us? My grandmother said, outraged. What is this about? They signed the treaty, Major Ridge, his son and one other, they met with the white men and signed the treaty. The Treaty of New Echota has been signed, and President Jackson has now ruled that we must move. All of us Cherokee, the Chickasaw, the Choctaw and two others must go. Come on, these white soldiers are ruthless. We must go now, bring whatever you can carry, everything else isnt important. And just like that my world changed. My grandmother was almost 80. Although she was in good shape, I knew that she would not be able to travel far. She told me to pack her stuff for her, and so I did. My younger brother finally came back from working on the railroad with some others and helped me pack too. When we had finally finished packing, my grandmother told us something most shocking. Forget your names. They are irrelevant and no longer to be used. We are under white rule now. Megena, you are Megan. Mai, you are Micheal from now on! Do you hear? Never let the white men catch you using your real names. Mai and I nodded in agreement. Although it hurt me to hear that I would be losing my name, the one thing that connected me to my deceased mother, I knew it had to be done. Our survival was at stake. We met up with Cocheta, who was now Christopher in front of the white men and he led us toward where the others were travelling. It seemed to be such a long journey to be on foot. I was no fair, I thought, that the white men were on their horses while we were on foot after being forced out of our land. The white men think they can control any and everything because they are so civilized. Forcing someone off of their land for gold doesnt seem civilized to me, or even moral for a fact. I looked up ahead, and felt the dread that was to come on this very long walk. Wow, were finally here. I dont even know what this place is called. I wont call it my land, because I dont feel that it belongs to me. Everything that belongs has gone. My parents were killed by the white men, my brother and grandmother caught a disease. It was a disease unfamiliar to me. I couldnt treat it no matter how hard I tried, and they both died in my arms. II had lost my name too. Christopher is now my husband. His father died from disease too. Major Ridge and his son have been killed. 4,000 of us Cherokee are now dead. I have lost the last of my family. I have lost the last of my hope. I have lost the faith in the charity of the white men. As I look down on this ugly gown that I have worn for thousands of miles. I hear the ugly name, Megan, I have worn for thousands of miles being called by another ugly name, Christopher. As I

march up the hill towards my new home. I think about all that was lost on Nunna Dual Tsuny, or what the white men might know as the Trail of Tears.