text: First Of The Mohegans - tribunedigital-thecourant
  Samson Occom Seen As Father Of Native American Literature
  June 02, 2002|By STEVE GRANT; COURANT STAFF WRITER Steve Grant can be reached by e-mail at grant@courant.com
  More than two centuries after his death, the reputation of Mohegan missionary Samson Occom is on the rise, with scholars now including his writings among the most significant of early American literature.
  Occom, who converted to Christianity as a teen in Colonial Connecticut, has long been a figure in Native American history, often cited for his leadership at a time when tribes were struggling.
  But in recent years, scholars looking more closely at his extensive body of writings, many of them sermons, are crediting him with another distinction: They see him as the first major Native American voice in American literature.
  Bernd Peyer, a German scholar who specializes in North American studies and taught at Dartmouth College, calls Occom ``the father of American Indian literature.''
  Barry O'Connell, professor of American literature at Amherst College and among the preeminent Occom scholars, includes Occom texts when teaching 18th-century American literature.
  A decade ago, Occom was virtually unknown in American literature classrooms. But in the last few years, two of his best-known texts have begun showing up in major anthologies used in colleges. O'Connell plans to edit a collection of Occom texts, including many obscure ones, to make them more generally available.
  One factor that slowed Occom's arrival into the American literature pantheon is the lack of such texts, and the fact that much of his work is religious in nature, when by the end of the 18th century, literature was moving away from a strong religious underpinning.
  ``Much has changed in the field of American literature in the last 25 years, so that such writers are often taken very seriously and written interestingly about,'' O'Connell said.
  His most famous sermon was delivered for the execution of Moses Paul, an Indian who, after drinking, killed a man outside a tavern in Waterbury. Execution sermons were a genre of the time, often published and widely read. Occom's was so popular, it was a virtual bestseller, reprinted time and again.
  Peyer says it is a generally typical execution sermon, but with a twist that sets it apart. It cites the sin committed, confronts the condemned man with the severity of the crime and warns the general audience of the horrors of hell for others who might dare sin.
  But the sermon also includes an almost hidden message, Peyer believes. Addressing his ``poor kindred,'' he reminded Indians that alcohol had been a source of misery for them since they were introduced to it. He did not suggest that responsibility for the murder belonged to society, but he did tell his people that they must know better than to be duped by the ``devilish men now in our days'' -- the whites who would provide alcohol.
  Besides its popularity, the sermon ``is also the earliest concrete example of the confluence of Indian oral tradition and European literacy,'' Peyer says.
  Occom was born in southeastern Connecticut in 1723 and in 1739 was deeply moved by itinerant preachers of the Great Awakening. He converted to Christianity and became a missionary among Indians in New York and New England for the rest of his life.
  Occom was one of the attractions when the Rev. Eleazar Wheelock opened his Indian Charity school in 1754. A little more than a decade later, Occom was sent to England to raise money for the school, along with the Rev. Nathaniel Whitaker of Norwich. Occom was a virtual celebrity abroad and raised the substantial sum of 12,000 pounds for the school.
  By then, however, Wheelock had practically given up on the direct education of Indians, according to historian Jere R. Daniell of Dartmouth. Wheelock moved his Charity school to Hanover, where he could educate whites as missionaries.
  When Occom realized what was happening, there was a falling out between the two, Daniell said.
  It was not the first time Occom felt mistreated.
  He complained that white church elders repeatedly discriminated against him in his work; he was invariably paid less than white missionaries and often had to struggle to make ends meet. Yet he never wavered in his faith.
  ``When he finally came to the realization that it was practically impossible for Indians to live in `civilized' society according to the principles he had been taught to believe in by Protestant missionaries, he chose instead to found a new nation of Christian Indians in the `wilderness,''' Peyer has written.
  ``Move, but within a Christian context, that was his vision,'' said Melissa F. Tantaquidgeon, tribal historian for the Mohegan Tribe. Tantaquidgeon said most members of the tribe are descended from Occom's sister, Lucy, who, with the help of sympathetic whites, helped Mohegans remain in southeastern Connecticut in the early 19th century, when Indians were being forced off their lands elsewhere. The key was to build a church and school -- to become Christian and ``civilized.''
  ``She was the one who allowed us to remain here. Without her, we would never have maintained our land or been able to get it back,'' Tantaquidgeon said.
  While Lucy Occom is especially revered within the tribe, Samson Occom ``is looked to as the great educator,'' she said. ``And our people have always put a large stake in education.''
  Shortly before the American Revolution, Samson Occom conceived a plan for a Christian Indian community in upstate New York, in Oneida territory. In 1775, the first group moved to their new home. Four years later, Occom himself joined the group.
  Eventually, after Occom's death, that group, known as the Brothertown community, moved to Wisconsin, on the shore of Lake Winnebago. Today there are about 2,700 enrolled members of the Brothertown Tribe, scattered throughout the area, according to June O. Ezold, tribal chairman.
  The Brothertowns are seeking formal federal recognition as a tribe. Though he is long dead, Occom's influence reverberates to this day.