Selu’s Body: Toward an Indigenous Understanding of Bodies, Community, and Knowledge

Emily Legg :: Purdue University

NAISA 2012 :: [email protected]

Every monthsomewhere in the worlda crop of corncomes ripe.Every daysomewhere in the worldSelu singsof survival.–Marilou Awiakta

“Weaving begins in the center. The base is tightly woven to hold the ribs in balance. The weaving may become slightly more relaxed as the basket takes shape…over…under…over…under…until it is finished. From the simplest basket to the most complex doublewoven ones, the principle is the same: The ribs must be centered and help in balance. In a sense, they are the fixed bearings that guide the rhythm of the weaving.” (Selu: Seeking the Corn-Mother's Wisdom, 35)

Long ago, a hunter, Kana’ti and his wife, Selu lived with their son. Now another,

Wild Boy, who called himself a brother and had sprung out of the blood from the

game that Kana’ti would bring home every night, also joined them in their home.

These boys were curious, and followed Kana’ti one day to see where he got his

game since he seemed to bring it home everyday without fail. The boys followed

and saw him open a cave door and one deer would run out. This was the deer he

brought home. Seeing this, the boys snuck off and wanted to catch the game for

themselves. Opening the cave, they let all of the game escape at once. Knowing

this, Kana’ti scolded the boys telling them they would now have to work for their

game since he would not be able to bring it home every night.*

*The story of Selu through this presentation is loosely adapted from the version that appears in James

Mooney’s Myths of the Cherokee and Sacred Formulas of the Cherokees, but just like any story, has been

told time and time again with varying tellings.

Selu, knowing the boys were hungry since there was no meat,

told them to wait as she went out to the storeroom. She came

back with baskets full of corn and beans. She continued to do

this every night so they boys would have food. Again, being

curious, they decided to follow her out to the storeroom to see

where the corn and beans came from. They hid and watched

as she rubbed all over her body. Corn and beans came from

her body and into the basket. The boys looked at each other

and decided immediately that their mother must be a witch and

must be killed.

Selu knew they had seen this, and asked them that if

they must kill her, they were to take her body and rub it

all over the field. They were to watch all night, and in the

morning, they would have plenty of corn. They killed her,

cut off her head placing it on the roof looking west toward

her husband, and took her body to spread the blood on

field where they only cleared a few places. Corn grew

from those places, and to this day, this is why corn only

grows in few places .

My final story, then, is a call for a reimagining of this

disciplinary space that is conscious of, and

conscionable in relation to, the ideological position of

the Academy within this continent—a reimagining that

listens carefully to those bloody, invisible bodies—

and not just to the bodies of American Indians, but

also to the bodies of the African slaves and the Asian

laborers, as well as to the bodies of their

contemporary relations who continue to resist the

advances of imperialism today. -Malea Powell,

““Blood and Scholarship: One Mixed-Blood’s Story”