WASHINGTON — I grew up in rural Oklahoma near Ketchum, a town named after my fourth great grandfather 125 years ago. Northeastern Oklahoma has been our home since the forced removal from Georgia during the Trail of Tears nearly two centuries ago. My father is Delaware and Cherokee and my mother is mostly French. My siblings, kids and I are enrolled citizens of the Cherokee Nation.
I am grateful for having grown up in “Indian Country” where strong familial ties and mutual support were not only expected but have endured for generations. As a child I met an elder that described a world that could be. Her life and words shaped my approach to people and how I would embrace adversity for the rest of my life.
That elder — Wilma Mankiller — was our deputy chief and later became the first woman principal chief of the Cherokee Nation. She was a civil rights icon, a social worker and an outspoken leader on Native issues at a time when Native voices were relegated to mascot caricatures or stereotyped pop-culture tropes. She was a committed warrior on Native sovereignty rights and inspired peoples across the indigenous nations to embrace the nobility of their storied histories. As an elementary school student, Chief Mankiller took the time to tell us a story. She warned of violent storms on the horizon. This image of storms was tangible, it resonated with a group of kids who endured tornadoes, freezing rain, wind, thunder and lightning. She warned us that when faced with a storm you have to make a choice.
You can choose to be the cow or the buffalo. When the cow sees the storm it turns, runs away, and scatters…alone. The cow cannot outrun the storm but instead spends more time in the morass as it attempts to flee. Or you can choose to be the buffalo. The buffalo leans into the storm. The herd comes together. It marches forward with the strong on the perimeter and the young and vulnerable protected in the center. The buffalo finds strength in the herd, and communal bonds are reinforced. When faced with storms, I choose to be the buffalo and I choose to lean into the storm.
This poignant lesson shaped my approach to life and leadership. Growing up in the Ozark foothills requires resilience, adaptation and the support of a community. We were taught that shared commitment, shared sacrifice, shared glory — and sometimes shared sorrow — is integral to building a resilient and cohesive community. Chief Mankiller challenged us to celebrate change while staying connected to our culture and tradition.
Chief Mankiller recognized the importance of history and embracing the struggles of our forefathers. She shared stories of the difficult journey our ancestors endured. She reminded us that Native peoples were not even recognized as U.S. citizens until the Indian Citizen Act of 1924 and that it would take another 50 years before the right to vote was extended to all American Indians. She was hopeful and encouraged my generation to be agents of change, to find success beyond the reservation, and to then return home for the betterment of the community. It is no surprise that Native peoples consistently demonstrate the highest rates of service of any American demographic. I chose to serve in the Army.
As a private in basic training at Fort Moore, Georgia, I remember a drill sergeant yelling “Embrace the suck…through shared suffering we grow!” This mantra resonated with my own cultural experience. Soldiers revel in victory, especially when the odds seem insurmountable. In my 27 years of service, I have never heard a Soldier fondly reminisce on lessons learned during stressless moments or the easy times of a team building event, training exercise or operational deployment. I have never heard a Soldier tell braggadocious tales of how serenity forged them into a better version of themself. We as Native peoples, and we as Soldiers, reflect on trying times and celebrate our personal growth and how these moments build trust, grit, confidence and camaraderie.
Military culture and Native cultures share other commonalities. Much like the term “service member,” the term “American Indian” is a ubiquitous label, but consolidating American Indians as one people is a common misconception. There are 574 federally recognized tribes, each with its own unique history, language and culture. Similarly, the all-encompassing term of “service member” includes the best people our country has to offer representing different regions, cultures, religions, generations and economic backgrounds.
I am proud of the Army’s efforts to recognize the cultural threads that make up the fabric of our Army’s team jersey. The variety of lived experience is represented in the unique faces and stories of every Soldier. Incorporating talent from all demographics ensures a nation-wide investment in freedom’s defense. We are in this together. Over the years my appreciation and reliance on the perspectives and experiences of my teammates has continued to grow. I will never experience the world through your eyes, but through leveraging the unique insights of every teammate, I can make better informed decisions, be a better example and create a community of mutual investment. Hopefully as I overcome my own blind spots, I can move from the center of the herd to strengthen the perimeter as we collectively lean into the storm. Be the buffalo.
About the author: Command Sgt. Maj. Eric Chastain currently serves as the senior enlisted advisor at the White House Military Office in Washington, D.C. He holds a Doctorate and a Master of Social Work from the University of Southern California, a Master of Public Administration from the University of Texas at El Paso and a graduate certificate in diversity, equity and inclusion from Cornell University. He is a Tillman Scholar, a career infantryman and a proud citizen of the Cherokee Nation.
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