The drinking never felt like a problem until it was. Friday night would roll around and she’d be out with her friends and one drink would lead to another and an inevitable mistake and a morning of regret. It was the life she knew, the culture she’d grown up in, and now Cheryl Cromwell was facing the reality of alcohol’s grip on her life. 

And she knew something had to change.

“It wasn’t what I should have been doing for my health, for my children to see, for my relationships, my marriage,” she said. “And at the time, thinking about my position as a councilwoman and being in the health and human services, I was not being a good role model. If I’m leading the way that I was leading, I couldn’t be out there talking one way and doing another. I wanted to be real.

“I had to make a decision.”

In many ways, giving up drinking would mean challenging her surroundings, her history, her very roots. Cromwell grew up on government-assigned Native Council land in Eastern Massachusetts, a member of the tribe of Wampanoag people. She was one of eight kids, the daughter of a strong-willed mother who wanted the best for her children and taught them that if one person tells you no, you go ask another. Cromwell not only took that lesson to heart but also turned it on herself.

“I think that has really stuck in my mind,” Cromwell said, “because I don’t really give ‘no’ as an answer—unless it’s a straight no. But, as in the past, in building services for the tribe and even in my personal life, it’s really never a no.”  

Her giving and accommodating nature drew people to her, but her generosity often cost her. In grade school, her mother noticed her bringing home loads of homework and asked about it, but Cromwell never told her the truth—that she was doing schoolwork for several of her classmates. 

“I didn’t think it was wrong,” she said. “I was just trying to help people out. But as I got older, I thought about it: ‘What was I doing, doing their homework?’ They were just giving it to me, and I would just go home and do it.”

To Cromwell, saying yes was fundamental to being a good person. She prided herself in serving others, and in 2005, she decided to take that impulse to the next level. She vied for a spot on the 13-member board that oversaw the 2,800 members of her tribe, navigating the murky political waters that surround tribal council elections. 

The intense scrutiny was a challenge. No one, not even her family, escaped judgment. 

“They always want to dig something up,” she said. “They’re going to take something that was minor, and make it humongous, and make it look so bad on you. So of course you have to go through the hurt. You cry, because why would people even be so mean?”

Cromwell persevered. She knew who she was, and she knew she was worthy. She won her 2005 election and continued to battle through repeated bids for re-election. Throughout the years, she rose to become one of the most respected elders in her tribe.

Key to her success was her passionate fight for the health of her people. The Mashpee Wampanoag tribe, also known as the “People of the First Light,” has inhabited present-day Massachusetts for more than 12,000 years. But white colonization in the 17th century devastated the Wampanoag people, leading to the deaths of more than 40% of the tribal population, according to some estimates. In fact, historians declare that their tribe, years back, under Chief Massasoit (also known as King Philip), pitted against their arch rivals, suffered one of the bloodiest conflicts (per capita) in U.S. history. Those deep scars remain, and the generational trauma that persists often manifests itself through abuse, domestic violence, poverty and alcoholism. 

When Cromwell joined the tribal council, her community lacked the health resources it needed to even attempt to end that cycle; it had a single grant that provided funding for diabetes testing. Cromwell got to work “making things happen—I love making things happen.” She assembled a committee of 15 health professionals who began collecting grants and working with the federal government to receive aid that helped her tribe build a health care clinic and dental clinic for the community. To this day, she does some of the same work, but beyond the Wampanoug to many other indigineous natives and immigrants working closely as a liason with federal, state and local funding agencies.

“I like to see people healthy,” she said. “I love to see people getting what they deserve.”

Cromwell knew as well as anyone just how important health care was to her people. She’d lost her grandson when he was just 3, after serious, lingering complications from a troubled birth. The boy’s short life left a long legacy.  

“He just came in and left such an impact on this whole community,” Cromwell said. “He wasn’t able to drink a bottle, eat, talk or any of that stuff. But he was here for a reason, and you know, it did bring family members together. It brought everyone’s attention to how precious life is.”

Eventually, Cromwell began to consider her own precious life. 

She was caught in a cycle that was threatening to overtake her. Alcohol, always a familiar presence, was beginning to provide more trouble than comfort. But what was the alternative? Practically everyone she’d ever known—her parents, siblings and friends—all drank. Giving it up was like walking away from family.

 “It wasn’t that I drank every day, it was just that when I went out and drank, I drank too much,” she said. “It’s just something that had a hold on my life for a long time. It had a hold on my dad’s life, my mom’s life—it was this generational thing that just kept going. You think, ‘I just gotta stop. I don’t really need it.’ But then that goes on for years, and some day you just come to terms and just say, ‘That’s it.’”

What was her breaking point? On top of dealing with the bottle she had a marriage and tribal relations that for a short time was a bit rocky Much to her credit Cromwell knew most relationships have bumps along the way and knew she needed to work it out in a stead-fast manner.  

She said, “at first I had to look at myself. What was I doing that I could change? How could I forgive myself and others in-spite of the pain and hurt that was in the mix. Forgiveness is a process. You have to find charity in your heart for both you and others. This is not easy because it’s hard to accept the faults we have…and others have. Restoration at a fundamental level is not a quick overnight thing. You have to walk through the bitterness, fear and anger and be thankful for the good things in ourselves and in the people that matter to us. You have to look at finding something good in all the bad you see (in you and others). How can you soften your heart if there is only bad all around you? This may sound a little wishy-washy. But I looked at my children that I was trying to raise and realized their watching what I am doing every hour, every day. I am setting an example for them.”

“As a parent and as a tribal leader working in native communities I have to think about how do I teach being responsible – not being reckless or selfish. Each time I picked up the bottle what is that signaling to my children and to my neighbors. Like many other challenges in my life, I reached out to the Lord. I prayed, like I never prayed before. I even became a prayer warrior. This puts me in a very different place that I could never get to on my own.”

Cromwell, further elaborated, “I have to replace hate it with acceptance and appreciation for the human frailties that is in the world. I am no saint but when I am open to what the Lord wants of me I can not only heal but also be the strength and support for those who need propping up. This kind of strength is divine inspiration that helps keep me straight when I am ready to bend or cow-tow to a selfish or self-serving way.

When I pull this off there is gratitude as I become a deeper, different person that serves our community in the way our ancestors did with their people. Like the way Chief Massasoit did in even helping the English settlers (i.e., the Pilgrims/Puritans) in Pawtuxet or Plimoth in the midst of those cold winters when the foriegners were starving.”

Cromwell said, “our people have a proud heritage that draws energy from mother Earth. Dating many years back, in times of struggle and deprivation, our native people would use the Gathering Circle made of rocks pointing in four directions. We understood them as elements of Creation carrying meaning and power. Today, many of us blend such knowledge and practice with modern day religion.” Cromwell goes on to say that, “however when the Gathering Circle is used today the stones are used as metaphorical markers in our life. That is, to signal the importance of finding your direction and path particularly through times of turbulance. The Four Directions of the Gathering Circle include:

 Photo taken of a Wampanoug Gathering Circle by the Author

The Gathering Circle is full of ritual and reflection to help see the future in a new way. Cromwell is no stranger to this as she blends it with her honoring a more contemporary religion and a God above.” As Cromwell has indicated her become more open to what her Lord wants of her, she has begun to change her life—working out, eating better, espousing the values she preached. In this journey, she has changed from being the woman who rarely accepted or spoke the word “no” to finally putting her foot down, when it matters.

She almost makes it sound easy, but make no mistake: these life-altering shifts rarely are. Cycles can persist for decades because they are almost impossible to break. Cromwell’s difficult decision was years in the making, and it came from deep within—from a lifetime of learning when, and more importantly, how, to finally say enough. 

In the process, my kids are at the age where they’re responsible drinkers if they even drink at all. Even seeing me as a role model, they don’t even have the desire to. And that’s because of the atmosphere that I’ve created.”

There is no tidy end to this story. Alcoholism and abuse of varied kinds continues to be a struggle in many Native communities, including Cromwell’s own. But lasting change so often begins with a single decision. It may start with the actions of a sole person. And Cromwell teaches us that while the journey may be wrenching, the only way to heal is to live through our struggles—to fight and persevere and get ourselves to the other side.

“It doesn’t matter what challenges you have,” she said. “Whether it’s alcohol, or a relationship, whatever it might be—you have to walk through that deliverance. Own your actions. Pray for strength. Seek help. Don’t give up. Accept the pain. Forgive, trust, love –You have to walk through that problem recognizing none of us are perfect, but we’re still worth it.”