I’ll start with sacred, the beautiful… and with community.
Sometime in the past year or so, I’ve gotten connected on Facebook with a member of the Meskwaki tribe in central Iowa and we’ve gotten acquainted a bit. We don’t live far apart, so I’ve been hoping we could meet up in person at some point. In the late winter, we had a conversation in which they mentioned that I should come to the annual powwow in August.
I was grateful for the invitation, and touched. I was also kind of amazed… because how am I from central Iowa and I’ve never known that there was an annual Meskwaki powwow, and that it’s public? It’s been happening since 1913.
White people have been visiting the powwow since its beginning. There’s more on the origins of the powwow here, including some rather surprising details about the federal government’s influence in circumstances that eventually led to the annual powwow.
I was grateful this weekend to be able to make it. I don’t plan to ever miss another one — and I will also plan to attend much more of the entire 4-day powwow in future years.
I can’t exactly explain the experience. I don’t know what I was expecting. What I ended up finding was more grounding than I understood was possible, and in different ways. I saw community, and connection too… familiarity, depth, custom, comfort, care, intention, comedy, respect, and reverence. I will carry it, and I will honor it. This post is part of that. I wanted to share what I’ve learned and pass it forward; as I was invited to the powwow as part of the tribe’s purposeful outreach to non-Meskwaki people so we can learn about the people and the nation.
My Own Overdue History Lesson
Since I wasn’t quite sure what to expect, I was a little nervous to go and decided to learn more before heading over. The nerves mostly come from hangups growing up as a white person on nearby lands taken in terrible so-called “agreements” made not in good faith by white people, not in clear terms, and with very disproportionate power and pressure. Growing up, I knew so little about the people who were pushed out of where I lived so the pale folks could take possession of huge tracts of land, build generational wealth, and leverage the extensive natural resources for their own thriving and flourishing. I’ve learned bits and pieces, but I had not taken the time to learn more about the specific people. This weekend I did. I spent a bit of time reading up on the Meskwaki Nation, the annual powwow, the history of both, and as it turns out a bit of the history of the Sauk people and Ioway (Bahkhoje) people as well. For reference, in terms of the federal government, the Sauk (Sac) and Meskwaki (Fox) tribes have been treated as a unit since the mid-1800s, and are known through that process as the Sac & Fox.
What I found in my overdue history lesson was an abomination. It was worse than I ever understood, and explains a lot of insinuation, anger, and references I’ve heard over the years.
My starting knowledge was from like 5th/6th grade civics class, held in a brick country school building we were bussed out to every day from town on the corner of a one-mile “section” road that had been created from the very Homestead Act we learned about in that school. Iowa is one of several states where a sort of tabula rasa / blank slate approach was used for white people settlement. Land was divided into 1-mile by 1-mile sections for 640-acre sections often now separated by section roads; grouped further into 6-mile by 6-mile townships. Iowa was established as a state on December 28, 1846. Survey-delineated townships were assembled into 99 squarish counties of roughly 4 townships by 4 townships until the last Iowa county was created in 1857. In fact, Wikipedia notes that “Iowa has one of the smallest percentages of counties whose boundaries are dictated by natural means, the vast majority of which are being formed by lines of survey instead, resulting in many "‘box counties.’” The counties were small so that the new settlers could get to the county seat by horse within a reasonable travel time.
Tabula rasa. Only the the slate hadn’t been blank. We’ve just acted like it. Our early 1980s-era history books made it sound like for the most part, our current state was gotten through acceptable, above-board, good-faith, clear-communication treaty behavior. We learned a bit about wars and treaties and which countries ran which territories, but I don’t remember learning at all about specific details for any of the different tribes who had been living in what is now the state of Iowa… and where the people of the tribes went if they survived the various showdowns, wars, and disease exposure to European colonists. We certainly didn’t get the update on how the Meskwaki tribe bought back some of its own land in 1857 and had been living in Iowa since — although it seems like a century’s passing would have allowed time to update textbooks.
I had also read a bit about the Meskwaki settlement in Iowa a few years ago for planned outreach to the tribe because of a regional state-wide grant we were preparing. I learned more then about how the Meskwaki people had bought some of their own land back in 1857 and more since; and were in a very different jurisdictional situation because of that than most tribes that remain in the US — both in relation to the state of Iowa, and in relation to the United States.
In 2020, I came across the Native Land Digital map work, and learned then that the place I currently live in (Ames, Iowa) had been most recently inhabited by the Ioway (Bahkhoje) people — and that the Sauk and Meskwaki (Sac and Fox) had inhabited the area of my nearby hometown (Nevada, Iowa), the current Meskwaki settlement, and of course a much larger area of central and eastern Iowa.
What I didn’t really understand in a realistic way until this weekend is that what’s on the Native Land Digital map about which tribes were where is very, very much not the full story — because of the push of colonization over centuries. I suspected that the Native Land Map would have been hard to put together for that reason and because many tribes did not typically live in permanent settlements, but I really underestimated and underthought about the deep and thorough effect of the extended and aggressive colonial push. Because the reality is that none of the Sauk, Meskwaki, or Iowa (Bahkhoje) people were originally from the area now known as Iowa.
Here are Wikipedia links for a rundown on some of this complicated history in just this tiny part of central Iowa from Boone County (Boone) on the west to Story County (Ames, where I live now and Nevada, my hometown) to Marshall County to Tama County (Tama), and to the current Meskwaki Nation settlement on the east.
Sac & Fox Tribe of the Mississippi in Iowa (Meskwaki Nation) — this is the tribe at the Meskwaki Nation settlement in central Iowa (again, their official website is here)
In reading some of this, I learned — finally — how at least some of the native people were moved out of this part of Iowa. I never knew. Turns out, many of the Sauk (Sac) walked out on the Dragoon Trace or Dragoon Trail in 1845. Meskwaki people were also walked mostly out in 1845, but settled for a while in what is now Pottawatomie County until they were removed within a year to a reservation in Kansas. The last of the Sauk and Meskwaki were out of the state by early 1946, and Iowa became a state that December. I’ve seen signs for the Dragoon Trail in nearby Boone County my entire life and have never known what they were about. It’s been one of those things I always intended to check later because I always see the signs when I’m driving. The history is right here, intermingled with the places I live.
Related to all of this, I also learned about the godawful Indian termination policy — which was the official policy stance of the US federal government for about twenty years. It’s a phrase “describing United States policies relating to Native Americans from the mid-1940s to the mid-1960s. It was shaped by a series of laws and practices with the intent of assimilating Native Americans into mainstream American society.”
What the actual ****?????? Yeah, that was very definitely not in our history books.
This abomination of US policy was of shorter duration but similar assimilation intentions as the American Indian boarding schools or American Indian residential schools, which “were established in the United States from the mid-17th to the early 20th centuries with a primary objective of ‘civilizing’ or assimilating Native American children and youth into European American culture. In the process, these schools denigrated Native American culture and made children give up their languages and religion.”
I’d never heard of the Indian termination policy, although I have certainly come across anger, frustration, and so many other reactions to the damage it did — and I’ve certainly heard that the US government wanted to erase any sign of native people. I just did not seriously understand that it was official, intentional US government policy, and that it was not that long ago. Reading that info alone demonstrates a hellscape of American policy that is mind-blowing and I suspect — also not taught in schools. These pages have more but of course it’s all just a sliver of the reality tribal people have lived: Federal Indian Policy, Americanization (of Native Americans), Indian Reorganization Act, Former Indian Reservations in Oklahoma, and Detribalization.
We bury so much. Or at least we try. Our American culture’s work at denying history is not in any way new, and I knew that. I knew that there was a lot I didn’t learn. I just didn’t know what I didn’t know about all of these very huge pieces of our history.
I would wonder if American history was being purposefully buried or left out, only we’re living in a time when an entire US political party is actively working to hide and bury history from today’s kids — on top of the other damage they’re doing to our educational systems. Now I see how it is indeed deliberate.
What I do know is that we can do and be so much more. We could chart different paths from here forward. We could. I don’t know if we will, but I’ve put everything I have into hoping that we can. That’s what this nonprofit has been set up for — changing our collective trajectory. It’s time to turn the ship again; it’s gotten very much off track. Wait: has it ever been on track? Perhaps; in fits and starts. But we’ve got a real mess up in the world’s most powerful country. It remains to be seen if we’re going to evolve it… or backslide back to our traditional violent ways.
All of this is a lot of heavy stuff, but it’s also reality. How much different could my life (and others) have been if we had made different choices as a country at so many points? Embracing variation and culture and diversity seem to bring richness and depth to life; rather than the whitewashed false norm that the paradigm of white supremacy pushes… primarily so that the palest and most powerful can hold onto power, resources, and control.
Here we are again — or still — in a moment where we need to decide collectively if that status quo will hold, or if we’re going to break it and push ourselves into a more evolved era as a more functional, thriving multi-racial, multi-ethnic democracy with a government truly assembled of the many diverse people it represents. The reckoning is real.
For me, all of that relates to the weekend and to the powwow because we’re going to find our way through this long precipice of a moment with connection and community — and by doing more with all of that in the places where we live. By taking things further; by building bigger coalitions; and by helping each other through.
I’ve lived in central Iowa for something like 35 years — and I’ve never met any of my own central Iowa Meskwaki neighbors. Until this weekend. I’m damn glad I did, and my life is better for it.
The Powwow
I won’t say much more about the powwow, but I did want to share a few more pictures. I did not take video as per the etiquette guidance on the powwow’s website to “never record a Native American drum without the permission of the head singer.”
The “grand entry” for the powwow occurs twice per day over each of the four days, with a specific focus on each of the days. This photo is from the Friendship Dance, early on in the powwow session. “A universal dance among all tribal nations, it welcomes all visitors and guests to the host tribe. The Friendship Dance expresses goodwill and friendship among all humankind.” It was very cool to see community people from the audience join in — including kids. It set the tone that it occurred early, and helped everyone present be even more of a part of what was happening in the arena.
A list of all the dances is here, including information about the regalia and dance techniques/styles.
The two photos below are from the Buffalo Head Dance: “Originally a traditional religious dance, it has been adapted for general public view. It is often performed after a successful hunt as a thanksgiving to the Creator and to the magnificent animal, the buffalo. The songs and the movement of the dancers create the special place for the Lord of the Plains. This dance is dedicated to the enduring spirit of the buffalo.”
The first photo shows the beginning of the dance and the very large number of community members involved in the dance. The second is partway through the dance, with the community wound behind the dancers leading the movement.
This photo below is from the second to last dance, taken from across from where I was originally seated. This dance included police, EMS personnel, and other members of the tribe who were behind the scenes for most of the powwow.
I did not take photos of the last dance as it wouldn’t have conveyed. There is incredible connection when people are together for community activities like this. You can’t explain it — you have to live it.
I stayed for a while after; talking to another new person who I met… and then made my way out as tribal members worked to wrap up and disassemble the pieces and parts that had been brought together for the annual event.
The songs have stayed in my head. The energy has held. The community was powerful, yet grounded. I finally saw in to a community I have wondered about since I became aware that it existed when I was in high school and the tribe was working to build a casino to help bring income and to build resilience.
Connection Matters
I have about a zillion more questions, but now I also now have some connections where I didn’t before. Now I can build relationships and learn and grow and evolve through them. Now I have more knowledge; where before I had ignorance. Now I have an experience that I can build from and share.
Mostly, I found incredible grounding, great strength, unexpected focus, and deep inspiration. And a peace. I learned about activities that I can join. I opened my life to new connections and new experiences. I don’t know what will come out of it, but I’m beyond grateful that I went.
None of us know what is coming for each of us, for our lives, and for our collective future. I do know that we’re going to need each other to navigate it. We need connection, and we need community. It’s worth getting to know the neighbors — sometimes it’s more amazing than you can imagine.
Be well and be safe out there, and good luck with the connection and community you’re doing. Join our Facebook group if you’re looking for a place to be, sign up to volunteer, subscribe here if you haven’t, or share our posts and other stuff with the people and groups you’re already involved with. It can help us grow the work and widen our impact as we get this shift going.
Keep the faith — in our democracy, in our vision of what it can be, and in each other. We’ve got amazing, shiny people. Let’s do amazing things.