Yesterday, I attended the Red Hawk Pow-Wow at Bear Mountain State Park. I've been attending these events ( at least one every summer) since I was given a medicine wheel by my friend David about 7 years ago. I was going to Arizona for training in energy healing and he thought it was an appropriate present. The medicine wheel itself was very simple: a leather-wrapped circle divided into four quadrants,each dividing bar made of the same pale leather twisted on itself. It was garnished at each of the four junctions with a turquoise-colored plastic bead. He told me quite plainly, and almost proudly, that this particular medicine wheel came from an Avon catalog. Now, I've only seen an Avon catalog twice, and neither time were medicine wheels featured, but who would claim that if it wasn't so?
David is a Guyanese-born East Indian with a British accent who looks for all intents and purposes like a Native American. David actually resembles the Native American actor
Wes Studi (who played the Huron Indian 'Magua' in the movie 'The Last of the Mohicans'). He told me that he takes full advantage of this fact: growing his hair down past his shoulders, 'infiltrating' Indian Nation gatherings all over the Tri-State area and hanging out with the Indian bretherin. His earnestness is endearing, and I get it.
A good number of the participants at Pow-wows these days don't even look like Native Americans. I've seen African American Native Americans, and likewise many decidedly Anglo-looking Native Americans who must have just a sliver of Native DNA - between them! Even I, having not even a pin-prick's worth of
Native blood, find a great deal of resonance with the idea of being Native - having some pristine, primordial aspect that is unevolved in the best possible sense of the word.
The first (and only) dancer to get my attention yesterday was the
young boy pictured above. To see his picture is to see nothing. I was mesmerized by his movement - the intensity of his physical presence and the subtlety of his interpretation. He looked all of seven. He balanced his body securely even as he lowered it into a near-stoop while swaying his trunk purposefully left then right to the beat of the drum. His head was majestic as his arms, like levers, cranked the whole of him back upright. What a joy! I doubt this was instilled in pow-wow prep - there were 5 other dancers in his age-group and none of them displayed his exquisite intuition. There is just this thing - and you know it when you see it.
