Carrie, Navajo Fancy

A conversation with a young Navajo dancer

“My name is Carrie. I am Navajo, born into the Bitterwater Clan. I live in Arizona on the Navajo Nation near Tuba City. This part of the reservation is called Tsh Naees Dizi, or ‘the place of many springs.’ While attending grade school in Tuba City, I decided to become a fancy shawl dancer. Dance is important to my people. Dance is a way of praying, healing, celebrating, and even laughing. The traditional dances…were given to us by our ancestors. The oldest dances are for prayer, not for performing. Social dances, like the shawl dance, are for powwows and celebrating.”

Carrie sat across from me, her dark eyes shining with pride as she showed me her photo, dressed to dance at a powwow. She also brought the beaded cedar bag, necklaces, and hairpieces she wears when she dances.

“I chose to learn the shawl dance, a fancy dance. At a powwow, the drums start beating fast, and we start singing. Soon the arena is filled with men and women, girls and boys, of all ages. Everyone is wearing colorful outfits (called regalia). A fancy dancer carries a long-tasseled shawl. We spin and twirl, stepping light and fast. We circle…the arena, lifting our arms and spreading our shawls open, appearing as butterflies. I feel the quick beat, beat, beating of the drums. I sing the words sung by our ancestors…in old languages, so few know their exact meaning. But I…feel what the music is saying. Sometimes I end up crying…”

Carrie showed me the special clothes she wears when she dances. From the embroidered shawl to the white buckskin moccasins, everything was a gift from someone in her family.

“Most of my dance regalia is old, treasures handed down from my aunt. When she saw that I was determined to be a dancer, she gave me her shawl embroidered with turquoise flowers…the border of fringe swirls around my moccasins. She also gave me the jewelry she used when dancing. My mother made matching dresses. My favorite was blue, the color of the desert sky . . .beaded with flowers. My grandmother surprised me with her old, special cedar bag. This bag holds sweet-smelling cedar offered with prayers. . . .When I am ready to dance, I tie her cedar bag to my waist belt.

“Becoming a dancer means first watching. During the day-long powwows, I sat next to the drummers. Five or six sat around a huge round drum, beating and singing the songs. As I learned the words, I watched how the dancers move their feet, their heads, and their arms. I knew one day I would have to step out and join the circle. Would I ever be brave enough?”

Carrie smiled. “I was! There’s no test. You just step out and do it. I wore the gifts from my family and felt the ancient words in my heart. I stepped into the arena. Was I ever surprised! I loved it.”