My mom used to work at an art center on an Indian reservation. In addition to selling art made by Native Americans, the center offered classes in making birch bark baskets, beaded bracelets, fish decoys, and other traditional crafts. While I was visiting, a young local man came into the shop to browse. A higher than average percentage of people I saw on the rez wore American Eagle Outfitters t-shirts, and he was one of them. It was never a plain AEO shirt with just the brand name or logo; the designs always involved soaring eagles. I wondered if AEO realized the appeal that their shirts might hold to the Native American segment of the market. Anyway, in chatting, the guy told us that he was a fancy dancer [a showy Native American dance]. It was even part of his email address. I wondered how many American white guys would put the word “dancer” in their email address, let alone the word “fancy.” And how many of them would boast to strangers that they danced?
Nearby, an outdoor arena held weekly powwows all summer. I attended a couple with my mom. The emcee would explain the meaning behind each dance, and then a group of dancers would demonstrate. A couple times each night, the emcee would call out “Intertribal!” which meant that everyone, including the audience, was invited to participate. Those of us who didn’t know what we were doing basically did a stilted version of walking in a circle, but there was an elated feeling of camraderie, being a part of the drumming, the singing, alongside others dressed in colorful regalia: jingle shell dancers, grass dancers, fancy dancers, and butterfly dancers. We were lucky that the community was willing to include us. Going to see a powwow by itself could have been cool- watching the spectacle, learning something, and eating fry bread- but there’s nothing like experiencing an event to make an impact.