Reznet

A Yaaw Tei Yi dancer from Juneau, Alaska, performs at Indian Gaming '09 trade show Thursday.Reznet Photo by Anne Medley

Culture on Display at Indian Gaming Trade Show

By Victor Merina

PHOENIX—In the end it came down to this:

Away from the high-tech sales pitches, apart from the new slot machines poised to devour coins and dollar bills, separated from the flurry of resolutions aimed at winning political influence.

At the close of the National Indian Gaming Association trade show, there was nothing about bottom lines or politicking and everything about the Native culture that is sometimes overshadowed by the profits and perils of Indian gaming.

On an artfully lighted ballroom stage, before an audience of leftover convention-goers, the singers and drummers and dancers of differing tribes reminded everyone of what brought them together in this Valley of the Sun.

"This is what we're about, who we are, " said Ernest Stevens Jr., the Oneida chairman of NIGA. "We can't do gaming, we can't even do economic development without this, because this is us. If we do not have this, we are not Indian."

What Stevens meant with the sweep of his words is Native culture, which was symbolized by dancers from the Acoma Pueblo in New Mexico who appeared in regalia to perform the buffalo dance and other dances to the beat of drummers and song.

There were the Dishchii'bikoh Apache Crown Dancers, who traveled the short distance from their Arizona homes to perform dances that told the story of their people, the White Mountain Apache.

Long Journey From Alaska

Making the long journey from Alaska were the Yaaw Tei Yi Tlingit dancers, who had appeared at the Obama Inaugural and who now journeyed to the desert to sing their love songs and bird songs and to share their stories through the clan symbols woven on the blankets they wore and the floating swan feathers that swirled in the light with each shake of a dancer's headdress.

Finally, there were the dozen boys and men — and one yellow-and-purple clad girl — from the Santa Ynez Band of Chumash Indians who took the stage with their voices and traditional shakers and whose ancestors came from a cluster of small islands off the Southern California coast.

Their fashion style was eclectic.

The dozen boys-to-men lined up in a half-circle facing the audience. They were dressed in jeans and running or basketball shoes. They wore white T-shirts as well as short-sleeved and long-sleeved patterned shirts. They sported clean-shaven faces and goatees, wore baseball caps frontwards and backwards, and one had a fedora. A few wore bandanas on their head or hung the cloth from their pants pockets. Their hair was cropped short or worn in long braids.

All the time, the young girl in front, dressed in colorful array, faced them and danced with them. And when the Chumash danced, they were transformed.

Some sang and rattled their shakers with one hand in their pocket, swaying to the percussive beat. They took turns stepping in and out of the chorus line of singers, half-crouched and half-hopping, with one arm bent and the other moving the shaker while letting their voices pump out the rhythm and the words of their ancestral songs.

Blend of Old and New

Their performance and appearance were a blend of old and new, the modern and the traditional.

"This is like Indian gaming — traditions carried on in modern dress," whispered an Osage as he watched the performance.

Perhaps.

But there is no question that what is sometimes lost in the publicity glare of tribal casinos and Indian gaming are the Native roots that spawned a lasting culture, if not an enduring billion-dollar industry.

During the opening night reception of the NIGA convention, comedian Charlie Hill took note of the tables of hors d'oeuvres placed around the room and poked fun at a cuisine that included plates of tomato caprese with chipotle roast shrimp and baked oysters with chorizo and crème fraêche.

"Does anybody know what we're eating here?" he asked the crowd. "It sure as hell doesn't look like Indian food to me."

At the closing reception, the fare was far simpler. There was fruit and cheese and crackers among the finger food. Soft drinks and coffee were available instead of a full, open bar.

Certainly the difference was the time of day, and the nature of the event. But it seemed also in keeping with Thursday's simple celebration of Native culture and the back-to-the-roots tone that began with a prayer from Leonard Little Finger, the great-great grandson of Lakota Chief Big Foot, and ended with the words of Mark Van Norman, NIGA's executive director, a Cheyenne River Sioux.

Indian sovereignty is a critical issue, Van Norman said, and the public supports it because they value Native culture.

"Today's event is the heart of our show because it touches everyone's heart to hear the Crown Dancers tell of the Apache people, to hear Yaaw Tei Yi tell of their love songs. To see the bird singers, touches everyone's heart. And we know that's why you're here today," he told the departing crowd.

"It's all about heart in Indian Country, and through your heart, that's how sovereignty lives."

Victor Merina is reznet's senior correspondent and special projects editor. A former Los Angeles Times investigative reporter and finalist for the Pulitizer Prize, he also is a senior fellow at the USC Annenberg Institute for Justice and Journalism. Merina is a visiting faculty member at The Poynter Institute, where he leads seminars on cross-cultural reporting and writing about race.