I was privileged to participate in a presentation regarding human trafficking a few weeks ago, and the statistics were alarming.

A reader and tribal member sent a commentary to the One Feather. She wanted to report what she felt was a racial discrimination against her during a negotiation for a vehicle at an Asheville dealership.

Our sense of being Cherokee has been tainted by years of assimilation, some of which came by force and some by the lure of living a life of exorbitance. More money, power, and influence became the way of life.

Hemp, although not marijuana, is often associated with it.

First and foremost, I would like to say, “Thank you!” Everyone has been overly supportive and encouraging! Unified together we can make a difference, and I wanted to let you know that we have.

When I was being “reintroduced” to the Tribe after a long time away from Cherokee, a friend told me early on that I should expect a good amount of “poking fun” and “name-calling” if I was to be welcomed and accepted in the community.

Discrimination and hate are out there and going to Harry’s on the Hill; I got to experience it first-hand.

This Labor Day, I want to remember my son, Patrick Bradley Allison (Feb. 2, 1973 – April 14, 2015), who was killed three years ago while on his job to make the roads safer for his community.