There I was—standing at the golden gates of Indigenous exploration—ready to learn about “the culture” at my very first powwow. As someone who has seen Pocahontas an amount of times you could only describe as a “chief’s dozen,” I fully believed I would blend in better than barnacles on a Turtle’s back. 

Stepping my beige Ugg onto the freshly quaffed grass of the Kerr Hall Quad, I couldn’t help but break down in tears thinking about every Indigenous foot that had stepped there before. The rich history of these ceremonies live around me like a tapestry of the mind, everything that has come before lives within the now…and also they had tacos!

My goal of this entire endeavour was to meet with the head guy and get a selfie for this week’s cover of my Indigenous rights podcast, “Let’s get Inuit.” I have 12 monthly listeners and only 10 of them are relatives of mine!

As I browsed the selection of wooden chachkies, see-through blankets and for some reason tobacco, I unsheathed my trusty Nikon camera in hopes of procuring an ingenious Indigenous image, but was immediately reprimanded by some guy in a sick costume. 

Even with this, I wasn’t going to give up trying to get a photo. This was the only chance I had for gaining an actual Indigenous experience to reference on my podcast. And if not pow now, pow when?

The big dance began, I assumed it was some kind of freestyle thing so I joined in with a little running man action to show em’ what was up. However, it turned out to not be, this guy with a cool looking staff—which I of course attempted to hold—seemed to be very angry with me. Apparently that was not the right thing to do. 

They told me they were taking me to the man in charge which was exactly what this First Nation lovin’ boy wanted all along. 

There I was, face to face with the chief to end all chiefs. All I could think of was what I planned on opening the conversation with, which was a joke along the lines of “how many Indigenous people does it take to screw in a lightbulb?” I couldn’t seem to figure out the punchline in time so I just dropped it.

He was talking about something called “regalia” to which I responded “bless you”—again, that was not the right thing to do. He went on and on about respect and the four D’s of Indigenous stereotyping but I wasn’t listening, I wanted that photo. 

As he waved me off saying “Geddafackowtaaheer!”—which I assumed were ancient proverbs in his mother tongue—I swung my camera around my back so fast that the strap broke and it shattered all over the cone-shaped building we were inside. I understood it was time to make like the Canadian labour code 206.8 and take my Indigenous leave. 

So that was my first experience at a powwow, and pow wow! I couldn’t believe the amount of rules they have at that kind of thing. If I am ever to return to that sacred ceremony, I will make sure to
Haudenoknownee what I’m talking about!