In the powwow circle, Indigenous people are ‘dancing for our families, our Elders and our babies’

[admin]

The voices of the singers and the rhythmic beat of the drum fill the powwow arena, as the children dance in the sun on this August afternoon. Looking around the crowded wooden bleachers, I see a smile resting on most faces. All of us are sharing in a moment of pure joy, as we watch the next generation of knowledge holders dance with pride around the circle.

Overhead, an eagle hovers above the young dancers. As a member of the Eagle Clan from the Mississaugas of the Credit First Nation, I don’t take this sight for granted — especially since I live in Toronto, where you don’t see many birds other than pigeons. But this weekend, I am far away from the condos, the traffic and the sirens. My friends and I have taken a road trip to Wiikwemkoong on Manitoulin Island in northern Ontario, to camp out on the powwow grounds for the Annual Cultural Festival.

In the Anishinaabe worldview and cosmology teachings that I have received, the Eagle is respected as a great being in Creation. Because the Eagle soars at high altitudes, it is believed these beings fly the closest to Creator. As such, they are one of our connections to the spirit world, carrying prayers and messages from the physical world.

After the eagle floats above the circle for a few minutes, it soars into the clouds, slowly becoming a dark speck in the sky. I wonder if it’s carrying a message to the spirit world today: letting our ancestors know how many people from different communities across Turtle Island (the land now known as North America), have gathered together today to celebrate. To watch our people dance in their sacred clothing, to listen to our songs and to eat some good powwow grub.

Though powwows originated in the 19th century, Indigenous people have had ceremonial dances and gatherings for centuries. This included gatherings of different nations. Michael Doxtater, a professor at Toronto Metropolitan University who comes from Six Nations of the Grand River, says the gatherings originated as trading events. “They would gather in Detroit, Manhattan, Toronto and Montreal. Where there was a confluence of water ways, where a bunch of the Nations would get together and trade. But they would also have social dances, races, gambling and other things going on there,” Doxtater says. Doxtater is also head of Saagajiwe, a home for participation, action and research in Indigenous creative practices and knowledge that is part of The Creative School of the university. I also work under Doxtater at Saagajiwe as a research assistant and events coordinator.

Trading is still an essential part of powwow culture, but it has also evolved to become a celebration of Indigenous cultural traditions and ways of being. Many elements of the gathering are grounded in our connections with the land, the natural world, our ancestors and our history.

Our revered Eagle relative is present in many forms at Anishinaabe powwows. One or more Eagle staffs lead the grand entry of the powwow, each with its own design but always dressed in sacred feathers. These staffs are often used at ceremonies such as spirit naming ceremonies and seasonal feasts — in powwows they lead the way because they honour community, culture and history, including inviting the ones from the spirit world into the powwow circle. The Eagle is also represented in many dancers’ individual regalia, and each feather holds meaning and significance.

The styles of social dances and traditional dances performed at powwows, vary across Indigenous Nations. This summer, travelling from the GTA, to Walpole, to Six Nations, to Wiikwemkoong, just a small part of the powwow trail, I have seen the Hoop Dance and the Smoke Dance, which are only performed at certain powwows or in certain communities. Each dance has a different origin story and carries different teachings. But all of the dancers that step into the circle dance to the big drum, known as Mother Earth’s heartbeat.

As dances carry cultural meaning and generational history, the dancers carry a responsibility to their communities.

DJ White, a fancy feather dancer from the Potawatomi, Odawa and Ojibwe nations, has travelled across Canada to dance at powwows.

“We’re not just dancing for our physical self, we’re dancing for our spiritual self,” White says. “We’re dancing for our families, our Elders and our babies, who came to be in the present with us, but they don’t get to partake in the dancing [because of] physical limitations. I also dance for the ones who can’t dance, the ones who are yet to come from the spirit world. And for those who have passed on, like some of my friends and my ancestors.”

Read Full Article
https://thenarwhal.ca/indigenous-regali ... w-culture/