My first Pow Wow

On April 12, 2014 at Mills College, I attended my very first Pow Wow. There’s so much we are not taught about the indigenous people of these lands and the mounds and grounds we walk on that often literally consist of the relics.  “Indian'” blood was spilled and their bones, crushed and rolled over after the Indian Wars. All that remains is street signs with “funny” names some of us choose to gloss over.

But that Saturday I was on a campus I walked on frequently, but it was like being in another country. I watched the dancers in their regalia, sporting colorful beads, feathers and  and the like and meanwhile some were in jeans and tees. I even saw a little blonde  boy so white he looked albino in full dress chanting all the songs. I watched him run back into the arms of what looked like a gray haired tribal chief! I have the utmost respect to all true natives who teach and maintain traditions that feed their souls and honor their ancestors.

Seeing that little white American Indian and a little black American Indian boy carrying a staff reminded me of a quote from my poem “WAR” that states. “Focusing on hair color, skin color and a last name will not tell you if a cultural heritage and legacy is being maintained.”  I undoubtedly have indigenous blood in my DNA. I could just feel it so much I felt I had to hide my tears. I’m sure a few people experience this their first Pow Wow. I just had a strong feeling like I belonged until…well.

Here’s a poem I wrote about another experience I had that day.

My First Pow Wow

By Venus Jones

before i could see anything

i heard the sacred sound

i felt the drums enter me

the chanting was hypnotic

there was healing

hovering over that circle

where they danced

i was full of gratitude

i even wanted to clap 

for them and god but

this was not a performance

when all tribes and nations

were welcomed to join in

it was the least i could do

we were taking steps together

we were the globe 

rotating around under 

sunbeams beautiful and bright

i decided to wave to a friend

across the way 

she didn’t see me 

for a moment

her eyes staring down

at the movement of feet

when she smiled

i began feeling it

a sense of community

after the song ended

i went to sit down

and a man in traditional garb

said, “these chairs are for family.”

embarrassed and hurt at first

at the bitterness of his tone

i just nodded and smiled

i didn’t know their rituals

i had to check my privilege

i sat on the green grass nearby

right next to an empty chair

that was likely for the deceased

i imagined

as i sat there on the earth

indian style

for the remaining time

i realized

i was willing to earn my place

i was willing to prove it

i was seeking

more than entertainment

on a Saturday afternoon

if he only knew

i truly felt

at peace

at home