Crossing Cowee Mountain, by Barbara R. Duncan, $8.00 paper, 22 pages, New Native Press Stewardship Series, 2008.

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In this, her first book of poetry, Barbara R. Duncan displays an allegiance to a land and people with whom she is honored to live—the Cherokee. Indeed, her publisher, Thomas Rain Crowe of New Native Press, states that his credo is to

work locally, here in my home county in North Carolina for the preservation of the Southern Mountain dialect that was spoken by my Scots-Irish ancestors, and for the preservation of the Tsalagi language spoken for centuries, here, by my Cherokee Indian neighbors. In this sense, the [press's] statement-of-purpose is a political one in that I believe that one's language is one's primary politic. Since language is at the heart of any culture, for the culture to live on, so must its language.

With Crossing Cowee Mountain Duncan honors not only the mission of her press, but also the rich culture of a region she inhabits so fully.

Duncan chooses two epigraphs that both situate the book and orient the reader. The first describes the physical locale: The Cowee Mountains rise between the Little Tennessee and Tuckaseigee rivers. Their name comes from the ancient Cherokee town of Cowee, place of the Deer Clan: Ani-kawiyi. Place, then, is not separate from culture.

The second epigraph is from James Mooney's Myths of the Cherokee, published in 1900:

There is a story of a Shawnee who had been a prisoner at Cowee, but had escaped to his people in the north, and after the peace between the two tribes wandered back into the neighborhood on a hunting trip. While standing on a hill overlooking the valley he saw several Cherokee on an opposite hill, and called out to them; 'Do you still own Cowee?' They shouted in reply, 'Yes, we own it yet.' Back came the answer from the Shawnee, who wanted to encourage them not to sell any more of their lands, 'Well, it's the best town of the Cherokee. It's a good country; hold on to it.'

That Duncan prefaces her own work with this historical notation indicates her regard for the Cherokee indigenous to these mountains. From the first and title poem, Duncan's modus operandi is to "witness and praise." The deep ecological and cultural themes of these poems are testament to her humility before this sacred geography. Indeed Duncan seems to place herself and her poetry as "measures in a larger song." In this same poem, "Mountain Music," she sees "music made visible / in the dip and rise of ridges, / the lift of spurs above the low notes of coves / carved by the runs of creeks." Many poems manifest awareness of environmental responsibility. In "New Year's 2000" she reflects that,

We have failed the great creation.
We have ruined air, water, taken the life of species
for convenience
for entertainment.

Duncan seems to set consumerist and colonialist white culture over and against the indigenous population that has revered the land entrusted to them as Principal People. Duncan's close observation of the landscape is therefore not rapacious, but rather a capacious view of the larger picture and greater good: a land and people who are inextricable one from the other, having survived for centuries, despite genocidal trials.

Her tone is sometimes ironic: "Armored, / beasts, / we charge Cowee Mountain…What museum will hang / these moving metal plates/ of our medieval mind set: / Chevrolet, Ford, GMC?" Against the rise of Cowee Mountain, contemporary transportation seems almost a temporary intrusion. Yet with this allusion to museums, Duncan raises the serious issue of what is suitable for display and by whose reckoning. Her sensitivity to cultural appropriation informs the work throughout.

Although the region became home to Scottish settlers, Duncan's poems never fail to acknowledge the primacy of the Cherokee culture. In the poem, "Tartans," she expresses this overlay of cultures as she describes shadows of trees on snow, "brown and black plaid / on white":

Did Scottish weavers see this
and make their tartans
two thousand years ago,
when trees still grew in Scotland?

Did Cherokee potters seeing this
carve paddles crosshatched,
imprint clay and smile,
remembering a snowy morning
at sunrise?

Other poems reference Cherokee myth (the cardinal as "daughter of the sun;" Judaculla, "the slant-eyed giant") and ceremony (Green Corn). These details of cultural significance are known to Duncan both from her training as folklorist and from her appreciative residence in this land. Respectful incorporation of Cherokee history and culture honors by extension the Cherokee language that, although endangered, is now taught in immersion programs for both children and adults on the Qualla Boundary and through the Yonaguska Literature Initiative, bringing works of literature into Cherokee translation.

Duncan recognizes that she writes as someone who grew up "far north of here" but who has come to feel at home in these rise of mountains, "where the Cherokee / helped my spirit rise / closer to home." These are tender poems that also have a strong backbone, much like the ridge of Cowee Mountain. Duncan's poetic voice bears listening to just as she bids us to

Listen to the wind whistling across the ridge
on Cowee Mountain.
It will all come back to you,
and you will be fearless.
You will never be alone.

Barbara R. Duncan works as Education Director at the Museum of the Cherokee Indian in Cherokee, North Carolina. She has a Ph.D. in Folklore and Folklife and recently received the Brown-Hudson Award from the North Carolina Folklore Society for her contribution to the study of folklife in North Carolina. Her books include Living Stories of the Cherokee, Cherokee Heritage Trails Guidebook (with Brett H. Riggs) and Origin of the Milky Way. Duncan is also a singer and songwriter. She lives in the mountains of western North Carolina and has two children. Crossing Cowee Mountain is her first book of poetry.