Kirby Brown has a personal connection to the Cherokee research he’s pursued for years. As a citizen of the Cherokee Nation and an associate professor in English at the University of Oregon, he blends a deep commitment to preserving his family’s personal stories with a vision for fostering Indigenous research and archival storytelling.
Although Brown acknowledges that the historical oppression of Indigenous groups has shaped their people in more ways than one, he seeks to instead highlight moments of love, joy, humor, resistance, desire and futurity — particularly through storytelling and literature.
Brown’s first book, “Stoking the Fire: Nationhood in Cherokee Writing, 1907–1970,” focused on literature, representation, history and sovereignty. It examines the work of four Cherokee writers: Rachel Eaton, John Oskison, Ruth Bronson and Rollie Riggs. With access to formal education and publishing platforms, these writers played a crucial role in shaping public discourse on Indigenous policy and Cherokee nationhood. They not only critiqued US treaty violations but also reimagined what Cherokee sovereignty could look like after 1907, when the US Congress dissolved tribal governments — including the Cherokee Nation.
“My early work really looks at the question of nationhood, the question of sovereignty, the relationship between the law and popular discourse, and how Native peoples navigate those spaces in Cherokee history,” said Brown.
According to Brown, much of academia centers on the impacts of policy and how public Indigenous figures navigate those contexts, which — while significant — can overshadow the more positive lived experiences of individuals and families. This realization inspired him to shift his focus toward more personal stories within a historical and familial context. He’s taken it upon himself to bring more narratives of his own family to life so that even after they pass on, their stories can live forever.
In spring 2024, he published an essay, “Me and Hank: Traveling Cherokee Modernity with My Grandad,” which explores his grandfather Hank's experience as a Cherokee man born in 1906, growing up in the wake of allotment and Oklahoma statehood throughout most of the 20th century.
The early 1900s was a time when policy aimed to tear apart Indigenous families. The Indian Citizenship Act of 1924 granted Indigenous people US citizenship but did not protect tribal sovereignty, while the Termination Policy in the 1950s-60s sought to eliminate tribes and relocate Native people to cities. Brown’s grandfather grew up in an era that directly targeted his people – but that never stopped him from enjoying and embracing his family and culture.
“What I'm trying to do in this project is to connect that public history to what's happening on the ground and specifically in my own family. My granddad is this anchor figure that allows me to kind of make those connections between the public and the private,” said Brown.
Brown’s new project explores Indigenous storytelling not just as a literary genre but as a methodology for narrating family and cultural histories. Drawing upon Indigenous research methodologies, he challenges the academic notion of the scholar as the sole authoritative voice and instead emphasizes storytelling as a collective process that acknowledges the shared nature of history. By doing so, Brown uses his resources to tell his family’s collective story.
“My family and I have begun to do that work when we get together at Cherokee holiday on Labor Day every year, where we visit our ancestors and their home sites,” said Brown. “We tell stories. We've been recording those stories the last few times we've been together.”
Spending time in person allows Brown to reframe Indigenous history, shifting the focus from the violence of colonization to the everyday resilience, survival, joy and endurance found in his family’s narrative. His current project explores Indigenous storytelling not just as a literary genre but as a methodology for narrating family and cultural histories.
“In October, I hosted a gigantic family oral history gathering in Tulsa,” said Brown. “Like 28 people in my family, we're all in the same place, you know, living and eating and just storying together. So I can think of story as a verb, something you do.”
Brown’s work to change the way people look at Indigenous history extends beyond his research to his impact in the classroom. What drew him to UO was its strong Native community and institutional support for Indigenous students and faculty.
Throughout his education from kindergarten through college, Brown was often in places with minimal Native representation. Oregon stood out for its nine federally recognized tribes, a strong Native student community and spaces like the campus longhouse. The university actively builds a network of Native faculty, staff, alumni and students, which fosters a sense of family and support.
Perhaps most compelling for Brown was the opportunity to teach Native American literature in a classroom where over half the students were Native — something he had never experienced at larger institutions like San Angelo State, University of Texas at Austin, or University of Texas at San Antonio, where Native students made up a much smaller fraction of the population.
Brown hopes to empower Native students to share their own stories. He teaches students to view their family’s experiences, ways of life, knowledge and language as legitimate objects of academic and intellectual inquiry.
“I just want to introduce them to that side of the story. It's a painful story — of dispossession, loss, fracture, violence, removals and ethnic cleansings, and just all things that are wrapped up in colonial violence,” said Brown. “But it's also joy and strength and resilience and humor. We are funny people. Native people are hilarious in order to survive.”
Brown is confident Native people are going to keep telling stories across generations, just as they’ve done for centuries. Through his work, he aims to not only share these pieces of Native stories, but also to reframe the way people view Indigenous history and colonization.
“Getting folks to kind of rethink American history that way — the idea that we're not bound to the histories we inherited together,” said Brown. “If we claim those histories fully, attempt to come back into relationships with each other and with the lands, the waters and our other than human kin, we can produce a different future. I think the future is bright — it’s challenging, but it's bright.”
Brown’s grandfather and his family worked tirelessly to stay connected, refusing to let the pressures of settler colonialism or modernity scatter them. It is a commitment that has endured for generations and now includes Brown.
“I think he would be proud that the work they put in on the front end is still holding us together here in 2025,” said Brown. “There was probably a moment in the early 20th century when he didn’t know if that was going to be possible.”
Brown’s grandfather passed away when he was 9 years old, leaving him feeling like he never got to fully know him in the way he wanted. He plans to make him proud.
“I hope he sees the work I do to keep his life, his experience and those of his family alive. I hope that he’s excited that I’m elevating our family history.”
—By Kendall Baldwin, College of Arts and Sciences