
'You just feel it': Gathering of Nations, the largest powwow in North America, hits its stride in Duke City
ALBUQUERQUE — The heat and rhythmic intensity of the collection of dancers spinning, stopping, flinging legs had Liam Beebe of Washington sweating in his orange regalia as he walked from the powwow floor, the drum still pounding a war beat in his ears.
A member of the Blood Tribe, also known as Kainai Nation, the 16-year-old practices ahead of the Gathering of Nations Powwow in Albuquerque each year, studying the songs and refining his moves.
"It's a war dance — I like that it's fast," Beebe said. "It gets my adrenaline going."
Touted as the largest powwow in North America, Gathering of Nations has been underway since Thursday but ramped up Friday as thousands flooded into Expo New Mexico, the state fairgrounds in Albuquerque, for a weekend of festivities, including parades, music and dance performances and the Miss Indian World Contest.
Noon marked the Grand Entry, the first real act Friday, when Indigenous dancers from around the U.S., wearing regalia displaying their tribal ties and cultural backgrounds, entered the high-profile powwow, moving to the dance floor with flourish as the arena of spectators roared and cameras flashed. A series of dance competitions followed.
Inside the arena before the entry, dancers were preparing bustles and other attire ahead of the dancing scheduled Friday afternoon and evening — some with a long history of attending the powwow that first began about 40 years ago.
Today's Gathering of Nations looks a little different than those early years, which started with the first 'unofficial' event at the University of New Mexico in 1983. Attendees now come from not just North America but around the world.
Seated in the dimly lit arena at Expo New Mexico, Sage Fast Dog's hands worked over a bustle crafted with intricate black-blue beadwork and topped with golden eagle feathers. He tightened the garment to ensure his son would not have to fear it slipping off amid the dance.
"The feathers that we wear come from a bird that is sacred to us," said Fast Dog, a member of the Rosebud Sioux tribe in South Dakota. "We teach our kids that so they don't disrespect these feathers. It's one of the reasons we are able to carry them in the United States — because it is a part of our ceremonies."
Indigenous Americans who attend the gathering say they come for the unity, pride and sense of community that characterizes the powwow. The seizure of Native land by the U.S. government and forced migration resulted in intertribal exchange, and powwows became more popular in the 20th century as a means of Native expression and celebration.
"We all come together," said Malcolm Duncan, who is Navajo and lives in Shiprock. "It's amazing to see how we are all connected, even though we are thousands of miles away."
More moves, more footwork
Some of the best Indigenous dancers in the U.S. and Canada showcase their footwork during the Gathering of Nations, ensuring competition is always high. Rod Begay, of Yakama Nation in Washington, has been judging powwows since the 1980s and said this is a big stage.
"Maybe a dancer has more moves, more spins, more footwork. Those are the things you pay attention to," said Begay, ahead of judging a teen girl's fancy dance.
Duncan began dancing when he was 5 or 6 and feels the preservation of traditions and culture is paramount, especially as he watches his own children dancing. He wore white warpaint on his face from nose down across about half his face Friday; six black lines painted to represent the six mountains that are sacred to the Navajo.
"One thing I was always taught was, 'You are your grandfather's prayer,' " Duncan said. "Now I understand it because I know my grandfather prayed for me to keep the tradition going. I see it now when I see my kids dancing."
The term 'powwow' derives from Pau Wau, meaning 'medicine man' in Narrtick, a language spoken by the Algonquian peoples in Massachusetts, according to the Smithsonian. On display Friday were the differing beats of the drum competitions, dozens of dancing categories, the roving performers of traditional dances.
Tiffani Warner, of Winnebago Tribe in Nebraska, does the Ho-Chunk Applique dance for those who cannot move themselves, as it is known as a healing dance. Jangling the bones and shells hung around her neck, Warner moved to the beat of the drum with her feet together, illustrating the style.
"It's scary times, you know," Warner said. "You've just got to help everybody, be kind."
'Just a good feeling'
Positioned in a circle pounding a large drum covered in a steer hide and singing loudly, chanting, members of a group known as Sharpshooter were among the drum groups that took turns providing constant music for the powwow in the arena.
"We're from Turtle Island," said one of the members of the group using handmade sticks. Turtle Island is used by some Indigenous Americans to refer to North America.
"We're from all over," added another.
Jeremy "Worm" Dearly of Phoenix writes songs for the group and serves as its lead singer, stretching his voice in Lakota and Ojibwe. He penned a song Sharpshooter performed early in the powwow that he based on a dream — in his dream, his father was singing him the lyrics of the song.
"All the people help one another. You only have one life to live," Dearly said. "That's what that song means."
A number of drum and singing groups kept the powwow going, each unique in their approach and with their own style. The Mountain Kree drum group plays powwows all summer and travels around, said Garrison Deschamps, noting the group of 10 is made up of members of a family from Alberta, Canada. Some powwows allow for larger groups, but the Gathering of Nations caps it at 10, he said.
"We travel throughout Canada, the United States," Deschamps said. "It's just a good feeling you get sitting around a drum with your brothers and enjoying visiting with everybody else that you don't get to see for a long time. That's what makes it meaningful to us."
"Each and every drum has their own camaraderie. They pick up their own singers whenever they can. There's lots of singers everywhere that want to sing with whoever," he added, as a drum group with more of a southern style began to play nearby.
Duncan said the powwow music, the hypnotic drumbeats, gives him a feeling unlike anything in American popular music.
"You just feel it," Duncan said. "It's different from when I listen to rap, metal, country. When you hear this, you feel it."
Change over time
Shirtless with a vest plate complete with a badger skull, rabbit fur and a tobacco bag, Billie Broken Trail made the journey from St. Petersburg, Fla., but opted to travel by air this year instead of driving.
"First time on the plane coming this way," said Broken Trail, of the Saint Regis Mohawk Tribe. "I didn't like it. I can drive; 26 hours don't bother me compared to being up in that plane for four hours."
Donning a small circular mirror as part of his headdress with feathers, Boye Ladd, 77, had bells and other shiny objects as a part of his regalia that made a jangling noise as he walked.
"Things like mirrors, bells, things that are shiny and sharp, are ways to repel negativeness, bad spirits and everything," Ladd said. "If somebody shoots medicine at you, voodoo or whatever you want to call it, it bounces back."
Ladd said he's seen powwows change a bit over the years.
"It evolved I guess to what you see today with competition and everything," Ladd added. "I've seen back when there was no competition back in the early '50s. It's pro and con, depends on how you look at it. Integrity, spirit, honor, respect — the positive. The other side is money, materialism, and that takes away from the spirit."
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