SchizoPolyGymnast
Paragon
- May 28, 2024
- 942
Not long ago, I did something I had not done in many years, and I went to a native American powwow. The past couple years, I have been deep in the weeds exploring generational and historical trauma and how to heal those wounds. I specialize in eastern Europe as my ancestors were recent immigrants from the Soviet Union, and as someone born and raised in rural New Hampshire, I connected with local tribes as a means of connecting with the soul of the land I was part of. I've done some great work with my mom, healing our relationship, which previously involved abuse, neglect and abandonment. We're both learning about each other as though we just met and we are friends now. I'm in my "glow up era" where I want to learn stuff, build relationships, do fun things, make money, and I'm making a conscious effort not to be a passive observer in my own life.
That's the backstory. What's the front story?
I went to a powwow on the beach. It was hot as hell in midday, and like many powwows, it was intertribal, so basically, it was open to the public. For those not in the know, a powwow is a celebration for indigenous Americans where there is dance, song and ritual, as well as vendors selling everything from food to clothing to musical instruments to mystery bags. I took time off from work to go, and despite having next to no spending money, I managed to blow a ton of it. All worth it, though.
At a powwow, you'll see a lot of different types of dances. Some are specific to one tribe, or to a particular type of dancer (grass dance, jingle dress, fancy shawl, etc). But most are for everyone. Just follow some basic etiquette and show up as you are. I was a little shy at first but I warmed up quickly. Danced a whole bunch, but out of all of them, two dances stood out to me.
One was a dance for healing. Anyone who needed healing, or who was representing someone in need of healing, was welcome to join. I danced for my aging parents and my bloodline. I danced for eeeeeeevery single person on SaSu, both living and deceased. And I danced for all the Americans who are losing their health insurance as a result of our current administration. It was a slow, somber affair, and cathartic on another level.
Then there was the snake dance, and that's a fun one. There is a leader, and a bunch of people follow the leader in a line that snakes around the sacred circle. Eventually, the snake is so tightly wound that the line falls apart and everyone ends up bunched together in the center. WE cheer, and that's it. As I'm standing there, sweaty and dusty, shoulder to shoulder with dozens of strangers, it occured to me. There are very few, if any, examples of this in western culture, where we share intimate space with strangers in this way. It's consensual, safe, trusting, open. What would our society look like if our culture had more opportunities for this kind of familiarity with people who aren't necessarily family or friends? If platonic physical affection was less stigmatized? And what if the snake dance is the story of life and relationships? Not neat and tidy. Not convenient. Not logical. It's a loud and messy affair, and yet people show up. Not in spite of this fact, but because of it.
I bought some amazing souvenirs, including a mystery bag full of rocks, an amulet, a book, and a turkey fan. One of my treasures even, strangely enough, came in SaSu colors.
Lastly, I promised myself that next time I went to a powwow, I would taste alligator meat for the first time.Let's hope I don't chicken out.
That's the backstory. What's the front story?
I went to a powwow on the beach. It was hot as hell in midday, and like many powwows, it was intertribal, so basically, it was open to the public. For those not in the know, a powwow is a celebration for indigenous Americans where there is dance, song and ritual, as well as vendors selling everything from food to clothing to musical instruments to mystery bags. I took time off from work to go, and despite having next to no spending money, I managed to blow a ton of it. All worth it, though.
At a powwow, you'll see a lot of different types of dances. Some are specific to one tribe, or to a particular type of dancer (grass dance, jingle dress, fancy shawl, etc). But most are for everyone. Just follow some basic etiquette and show up as you are. I was a little shy at first but I warmed up quickly. Danced a whole bunch, but out of all of them, two dances stood out to me.
One was a dance for healing. Anyone who needed healing, or who was representing someone in need of healing, was welcome to join. I danced for my aging parents and my bloodline. I danced for eeeeeeevery single person on SaSu, both living and deceased. And I danced for all the Americans who are losing their health insurance as a result of our current administration. It was a slow, somber affair, and cathartic on another level.
Then there was the snake dance, and that's a fun one. There is a leader, and a bunch of people follow the leader in a line that snakes around the sacred circle. Eventually, the snake is so tightly wound that the line falls apart and everyone ends up bunched together in the center. WE cheer, and that's it. As I'm standing there, sweaty and dusty, shoulder to shoulder with dozens of strangers, it occured to me. There are very few, if any, examples of this in western culture, where we share intimate space with strangers in this way. It's consensual, safe, trusting, open. What would our society look like if our culture had more opportunities for this kind of familiarity with people who aren't necessarily family or friends? If platonic physical affection was less stigmatized? And what if the snake dance is the story of life and relationships? Not neat and tidy. Not convenient. Not logical. It's a loud and messy affair, and yet people show up. Not in spite of this fact, but because of it.
I bought some amazing souvenirs, including a mystery bag full of rocks, an amulet, a book, and a turkey fan. One of my treasures even, strangely enough, came in SaSu colors.
Lastly, I promised myself that next time I went to a powwow, I would taste alligator meat for the first time.Let's hope I don't chicken out.
