Heartbeat of the First Nations returns with a flourish at Six Nations powwow

Boom-boom-boom-boom; dancers stomping and twirling, 390 of them, wave after wave of red, purple, blue and neon yellow; bells jangling, voices chanting, beads and tassels shaking, and underneath it all, the hypnotic pounding of the drum, shaking your ribs, filling you up: boom-boom-boom-boom.

The drum is the heartbeat," competitor Stacey Kicknosway told The Spectator, perspiring and breathing hard after dancing in 29 C heat on Sunday at Six Nations.

He said it's important for the younger generation to know their heritage, know the songs, listen to the drum."

The Grand River Champion of Champions Pow Wow is a competition in which dancers and singers vie for cash prizes and a championship trophy.

It is also a spiritual Indigenous festival, perhaps never more so than this weekend, resuming for the first time since the pandemic began on Canada's largest reservation by population.

The two-day event was held at Ohsweken Speedway on Six Nations after 40 years at Chiefswood Park.

There is a sense of homecoming; we didn't get to see anyone for three years," said Shillene Dale, who is part of the Onondaga First Nation, and has been coming to the event from her home on Six Nations since she was a baby 30 years ago.

She said the gathering of members from myriad First Nations is like a family.

With your biological family, there are tensions, but with your powwow family it's all good vibes; dancing is healing, singing is healing."

The opening ceremony and competitive dancing took place on a grass field surrounded by four grandstands filled with spectators, and an overflow crowd standing several rows deep.

The competition in past years has attracted more than 10,000 people from across Canada and the U.S.

The event opened with a military veterans' honour guard, and participants filed onto the field to join them in dance.

The head veteran" Sunday was Walker Stonefish, who grew up with Kicknosway on the Walpole Island First Nation, near Sarnia.

Kicknosway said that his old friend served with the U.S. marines in Operation Desert Storm and in Iraq.

Walker got me back into (powwow competitions) about five years ago," said Kicknosway, who competed in the age 55-and-over category. He said come on bro, you have to start dancing.' So I did, until the pandemic shut us down."

Kicknosway is a member of the Ojibwe Oneida Tribe, Wolf Clan.

His colourful regalia included eagle feathers, a sacred Indigenous symbol, that had been passed down to him over the years.

Randi Jacob, a member of the Mi'kmaq First Nation who lives in Mississauga, attended the powwow with her three-year-old daughter, Harlem.

She said her grandfather had been a paratrooper in the Canadian military.

And he attended a residential school, so it's sentimental being around culture and music that he would have been reprimanded for," said Jacob. It's emotional, it brings out tears. We weren't allowed to play our music."

Given her age, it was the first opportunity Harlem has ever had to attend.

During the opening ceremonies, when competitors packed the performance area dancing to the music, Harlem kept tugging at her mom's leg.

She wants to join in, she keeps asking, why can't I go out, when can I dance, when is it the girls' turn'?" said Jacob.

Finally, when spectators were invited to briefly join in, Harlem's mom gave her the nod, and the little girl walked onto the field holding a tiny drum, taking her first steps to the heartbeat.

Jon Wells is a feature writer at The Spectator. jwells@thespec.com