James C. Lawler, JD
Wampanoug Native American Tribe, “People of the First Light”
Former Tribal Council Member, Mother, and Servant of the People
- 1963
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.”
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Steven Beshear
61st Governor of Kentucky (2007-2015); Early adopter of the Affordable Care Act; Father of Governor Andrew Beshear
Steve Beshear, former governor of Kentucky, put a strong emphasis on healthcare during his time in office which spanned the introduction of the Affordable Care Act, known as Obamacare, in a state where President Obama and his healthcare plan had low approval ratings.
Beshear, a Democrat who served as governor from 2005 to 2015, said he campaigned on a simple message. “I said I don’t care if it’s a Democratic idea or a Republican idea, if it’s a good idea, we are grabbing a hold of it and implementing it,” said Beshear. “I went around our state saying that and I would get a standing ovation whether it was in a Republican stronghold or a Democratic stronghold because people, regardless of their party, are really looking for that kind of leadership. Leadership that would rise above partisan politics and put the people first.”
As governor, Beshear had to deal with the challenge of working with two legislative bodies dominated by the different parties: A Republican Senate and Democratic House. “I said the elections are over and now the people of Kentucky expect us to be Kentuckians first and Democrats or Republicans second,” he said. “It didn’t work every time, but as I continued to talk and communicate with both sides of the aisle, pretty soon people would start responding to that message.”
“It didn’t work every time,” he conceded, “but as I continued to communicate with both sides of the aisle, soon people will start to respond to this message. And I learn that you must listen as well as talk. As a matter of fact, people who would listen twice as much as they talk, we would all be better off,” Beshear said.
“Everyone looks at the issues differently, and that’s human nature. And so, you have to have a conversation–both parties and individuals–in order to work through differences and find the common ground on which we can agree and move forward.”
Beshear pointed to an example. He wanted to raise the age at which a student could drop out of school from 16 to 18. He said he had no trouble convincing his fellow Democrats, but for five years Republicans resisted. His wife, Jane, who supported the change lobbied for it in the statehouse. “My wife is persistent. She kept smiling and saying, ‘I will be back.’ And we kept having those conversations and finally found a way.” The Republicans would allow the change statewide if 70 percent of the individual school districts approved. Beshear said he negotiated that down to 55 percent. When the Senate agreed he then began a campaign to get the district to vote for the change and within a few weeks he had reached the threshold. The effort took five years.
“We felt it was worth an eight-year effort, if necessary,” said Beshear. “It’s frustrating and irritating at times,” he said. “But you have to keep coming back to the realization that people have different opinions, and you just have to keep the conversation going. Be persistent but be understanding and listen and see it that you can find a way to work through. And we found a way to work through.”
Beshear said he had to understand the importance of respect rather than anger when a difference came up. “There are times we are as mad as hell. But we don’t win over people by going over and throwing gasoline at them, and a match at them. You must show you respect the difference of opinion. That doesn’t mean you agree with it. But you can disagree without being disagreeable,” said Beshear. “When you do it in that way, it always leads you the opportunity to find another day. “If you go and burn the house down the first time that you lose,” he continued, “you are never going to have the opportunity to move into that house. So, you’ve got to respect other people’s opinions, and you’ve got to leave room for the difference and find the way forward.”
While in office, Beshear said his focus was always on the people, and what he could do to better their lives. The controversial new federal health care law provided a dramatic opportunity for the state government to help people receive health care. While many surrounding states rejected the Obama program, Beshear initiated both key components, a statewide healthcare exchange and expansion of the Medicaid program subsidizing premiums for low-income residents.
“The main reason that it worked in Kentucky was because we turned it from a political issue to a people issue,” said Beshear. He noted that Kentucky’s health statistics had been among the worst in the nation for years. “I knew coming into office that healthcare was one of those areas where I might be able to make a little difference, but it is so complicated and so expensive we wouldn’t be able to make a lot of inroads there,” he said. “Never in my wildest dreams did I think that when I went out of office I would be known as the healthcare governor.”
“The Affordable Care Act was a tool to use to change the course of history in Kentucky in terms of health care,” he said, even though he noted it was as unpopular as President Obama in a staunchly red state. “But I also knew that I would not be doing our people justice if I did not try to grab a hold of this opportunity to make a huge difference I the future of our peoples’ lives.”
Beshear used federal planning money to help develop a sustainable state insurance exchange. Beshear also had to decide whether to expand Medicaid in the state to extend access to care to more low-income residents. “That was a tougher decision to make because I knew it was the right things to do, but I had to decide whether Kentucky could afford to do it from an economic standpoint, or would this be a budget buster, that would basically bankrupt the state.”
“So, I asked my support group first to come in to do an actuarial study and give me, to their best knowledge and ability, predictions about what the expanded program would do for Kentucky or to Kentucky,” said Beshear. He said that six months later, “They came in, sat down and looked me in the eye, and said ‘Governor, you cannot afford not to do this.’ So, I knew that was the right thing to do, and now I knew as much as I could, that we could afford to do it.”
Politically, the expansion plan was a huge risk. But Beshear said, “We just needed to figure out how we sell it. So, we went out across the state to campaign. On the campaign, I said, ‘You don’t have to like the President. You don’t even have to like me. Because it’s not about him, or me. This is about you, your family and your kids. So just do me a favor and it won’t cost you a dime. Just go on the healthcare website, look and see what you might be able to get. And I guarantee you, you are going to like what you see,” said Beshear. “We also sent out various people in all around the communities to talk to our people. We call them connectors. They were connecting people with health care, and we went into every library, every community and every festival last summer. That was my goal. I figured that if they saw what they could get, they were going to like it by what whatever it’s called. And that’s what happened.”
Beshear said people who had never had health care were able to go to the doctor for a check-up and to the dentist. “All at once, these families couldn’t believe that they can not only go but take their kids to get health care. They were thrilled,” he said. Beshear explained that when people have increased access to health care, they are able to find out about problems and chronic conditions sooner. “Because they are learning how to manage it, they are going to have a much better life and a longer life.”
Beshear said he began to be recognized for his work in health care reform in the state. He recalled being at a bowling alley with his grandchildren when a worker attendant said, “‘You were the governor, weren’t you?’ And I said, ‘Yes, I was.’ He said ‘All of my family have health care because of you. Thank you.’ The very next day, I went in a coffee shop to get some coffee, and the young girl behind the counter handed me a cup and said ‘Governor, I want to thank you for my health care,’”
Beshear’s wife, Jane, has played an important role in his professional work. “Quite honestly, I couldn’t have been as successful as I was without her,” he said. “She’s my chief advisor, my best friend, and my confidant. To have support like that makes a huge difference.” Through his life, Jane has given Beshear unconditional support. “We’ve now made 48 years in our marriage. Sometimes, you must compromise and negotiate and consent to different opinions to have a successful marriage. And that applies to how you deal with other people. Jane obviously would be supportively understanding, but more importantly, she could train me to debate, add ideas about issues and how we can all get things done.”
His career in politics had early ups and one major down. Beshear was elected to the statehouse at 29 and then became state attorney general. In 1974, he entered the state senate at age 35. Next, he became lieutenant governor at 39 and ran for governor when he was 43. “I was really a rising star and I ran for governor and I lost. Quite honestly, I was devastated.”
Beshear took the loss hard. He said he ran across a quote from a 1910 speech by Republican President Teddy Roosevelt that had an impact on him. The speech is titled The Man in the Arena. “He wrote something like this,
‘It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.’ It consoled me a little bit. I lost, and I lost something I really wanted. But at least I have tried and I’ve been in the arena.”
Twenty years later, while working to get a credible Democratic candidate to run in the 2007 Kentucky governor’s election every candidate that Beshear and his group suggested turned down the opportunity. “One of the fellows in this small group of people with me, came to me and said, ‘Well, Steve, I guess you are going to have to run.’ I literally laughed at it and said ‘Right, I have been there done that. That’s not going to happen,’ He said ‘No, I am serious. I want you to seriously think about it,’” said Beshear. Later the man handed Beshear a card that had the Roosevelt quote on the back. “He had no idea what that quote meant to me,” said Beshear. “But that made the case.”
Beshear’s second, successful campaign for governor illustrates his most important piece of advice. “Never give up. You need to be persistent. You never know what opportunity is your last. You are not always going to win, but you will learn a lot no matter if you win or lose. You take a step further in the effort you made. You are going to learn something somewhere along the way,” he urged. “I am not saying to be reckless in decision-making. Obviously, you calculate your opportunities and chances for success. But the risk is there. There are no sure gains. You’ve got to be willing to take the chance of losing to win.”

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