event

POWWOW CIRCUIT

Dancers Compete for Love or Money EVERYWHERE I TURNED AT THE FORT MCDOWELL POWWOW, I SAW SATIN AND BEADED DRESSES, EAGLE-FEATHER BUSTLES, porcupine-hair headgear, bells and rattles and moccasins and painted faces, beaded bandoleers, shawls embroidered with intricate designs, gourds and buckskin and men with long silver earrings. Indians had come from as far away as Alberta, Canada, and others from as close as central Phoenix. They had brought bits and pieces of a 19th-century heritage in their brightly colored outfits, clearly indicating that, while many Indians may still feel like outsiders in conventional society, here they felt very much at home. Inside the big tent the amplified drums beat so loudly the floor around us vibrated. I asked Irvin Tso, a Navajo artist from Tuba

POWWOW CIRCUIT

City and head of Dinéh Nation, a drum group, whether or not he expected to win any prize money. He seemed slightly offended by the question. Tso was dressed in the elaborate beaded regalia of a Northern Plains Indian, the outfit required for one of the dance categories. “We don't come for the prize money,” Tso said. “We come here for the enjoyment. We come to be around other people we respect and enjoy.” On a mild November day, I was wandering around the carnival-like powwow on the reservation on the northeastern edge of metropolitan Phoenix. I met Danielle Starlight outside an enormous tent where the dance competitions were in full swing. Starlight, a Navajo-Shoshone high school student from Flagstaff, and I were both attending the powwow that Fort McDowell stages every November as part of its Orme Dam Recognition Days Celebration. I visited as an observer, Starlight as a participant.

“I come to this powwow to see all my friends and to win a lot of money,” Starlight said with a teenager's enthusiasm.

Starlight represents a relatively new attitude at the powwows Indians who, as often as possible, ride a powwow circuit to compete for cash. With the arrival of gambling casinos on many reservations, the prize money has grown considerably. Known as casiDANCERS AND DRUMMERS PREFER NOT TO TALK ABOUT THE FINANCIAL POTENTIAL ON THE POWWOW CIRCUIT BECAUSE, FOR MOST, THE MONEY IS NOT THE MAIN REASON FOR ATTENDING.

no powwows (even though not held in casinos), the events pay winners as much as $3,000 for a weekend competition. At Fort McDowell, this meant dancing in several sessions one on Friday, two on Saturday and one on Sunday, and gathering points at each. The biggest prizes go to the drum groups, which often consist of eight men who play a single large drum and sing the powwow songs. But a good dancer who wins first place can walk away with a $1,500 prize at some powwows, as Starlight once did at one in Alberta, Canada.

A Phoenix Indian who frequently works as master of ceremonies at various powwows noted that “circuit riding” developed over the last three to five years, mostly because of the big money that can be won at casino powwows. Before reservations had the benefit of casino money, first-place winners would get $100 or $200. Today, dancers typically win $700 for first place, and in six categories the lowest place can win around $200. The Drum a group that provides rhythmic accompaniment with a single large drum can win much more than that.

At the Fort McDowell powwow, Starlight wore a stunning, multicolored satin dress ornamented with tiers of small silver Cones that rattled softly when she walked or danced. Her outfit (never called “costumes,” a sign of disrespect) is called a Jingle Dress. It's worn by girls and women who compete in the Jingle Dance, one of several standard dance categories performed at powwows.

Jingle Dresses are decorated with rolled up snuff-can lids hung with ribbon and sewn to the dress. The “jingles,” placed close enough so they'll collide, create the sound of a rainfall. Starlight ordered her snuff-can lids from a company in New York 100 for about $30 then cut them in half and twisted them into the shiny cones. The cones are so attractive you have to look closely before you see the embossed “Copenhagen” logos.

While details about the origins of the Jingle Dress, or Prayer Dress, differ slightly, all tribes agree with the general idea that the dress was seen in a dream as an object to bring healing to afflicted people. Many say the vision came to a man with a very ill granddaughter. In his dream, the spirits told him to make a Jingle Dress for her. When he finished the outfit, the tribe assembled for a dance. On her first time around, the girl, too weak to dance, was carried by others. Eventually she regained her health and began joining in the circle with the other dancers. The story is usually attributed to the Ojibwa Indians who live along the Canadian border.

Participants follow two powwow circuits in the U.S. Predictably,

(LEFT) The precise handiwork exhibited in each dancer's outfit reveals the love, craft, time and attention involved in the creation of the Jingle Dance.

POWWOW CIRCUIT

At some powwows, like the Fort McDowell gathering, big prize money draws some participants. "We call them 'name brands," said Debbie Lee, who is married to a Navajo.

"There are well-known dancers who will go as far as Connecticut and New York. These are name brand dancers who have nice outfits and a lot of money tied up in those outfits, and they go to the name brand powwows where you can win a lot of money if you're good."

Dancers and drummers prefer not to talk about the financial potential on the powwow circuit because, for most, the money is not the main reason for attending. Most Indians love going to powwows to meet friends and visit with like-minded people, to catch up on news from other parts of the country and have a good time.

At the Fort McDowell powwow, a sense of pride reigns among the participants, palpable in the attention to detail in the elaborate outfits and the intense concentration on the songs and dances. Most of the participants even Arizona Indians new to the powwow circuit seemed more interested in the feeling of maintaining cultural connections and continuing a tradition than in competing for cash.

After Starlight went inside the tent to prepare for her dance, I encountered a young Navajo who is a student at South Mountain High School in Phoenix. Like Starlight, she wore a Jingle Dress and beaded deerhide moccasins. Her name was Meteatkee Moore and, like Irvin Tso, she focused her interest on the intangible benefits.

"When you dance and the jingles sound, the spirits come out and heal. You can feel it all around you when you dance," she said.

To her, clearly, that spiritual connection was more valuable than any cash prize.

WHEN YOU GO

Hours, Dates: Powwows are often not well-publicized. Check with individual tribes or chambers of commerce to learn powwow schedules of areas you want to visit.

Travel Advisory: A printed program serves more as a guide than a rigid schedule. Bring your own seating, as some powwows have bleachers, but others have no public seating. The benches or chairs closest to the arena are usually reserved for the competing dancers. Set up your folding chairs behind the benches. It is customary to stand and remove your hat during "special songs." The master of ceremonies will announce Flag Songs, Veteran Songs, Memorial Songs or Prayer Songs.

Warning: Ask permission before taking pictures of dancers, as many people are sensitive about being photographed.

Additional Information: Arizona powwows sponsored by various Indian Nations: Native American Tourist Center, (480) 945-0771. Fort McDowell powwows: Fort McDowell Mohave-Apache Tribal Council, (480) 837-5121.