Garrett Neese/Daily Mining Gazette Dancers enter the arena in the afternoon Grand Entry of the Keweenaw Bay Indian Community’s 44th annual Powwow Saturday. 

BARAGA — The Keweenaw Bay Indian Community’s 44rd annual Powwow drew people from around the country for a weekend of fellowship, culture and dance. 

Demery Connor, one of the organizers, had seen people from as far away as Arizona and Montana. 

“Every year, this is a big time for our family,” said organizer Christine Awonohopay. “We have people from all over the world and the U.S. coming. The whole community benefits from the powwow. It boosts our economy and hotels. A lot of people depend on this event to happen.”

The outside of the arena was lined with vendors for indigenous art and clothes, or foods such as Indian tacos or fry bread. 

Throughout the grounds, people could hear the dancing and the drums. 

“We’re dancing for our people, for healing, for family … we think of this as Mother Earth, so when we’re dancing, we’re dancing with Mother Earth,” Awonohopay said. 

There were three grand entries, in which dancers entered in, group by group, forming concentric circles around the center of the arena. 

That was followed by a dance recognizing veterans, and competitions for separate styles, including fancy bustle, jingle dress and woodland. The woodland dancers can be distinguished by the lack of bustle, elaborate strings of feathers worn on their backs, Awonohopay said. 

Each style has its own meaning, Awonopay said. 

“If we have somebody sick or not feeling well, the jingle dress dancers dance for them and pray for them, and the sound of the cones communicates with our higher above,” Awonohopay said. 

Drum groups, including host drummers Midnite Express, traded off performances as dancers circled round. 

In a spot dance, the dancer who finished in a predetermined location when the music stopped would win a prize. George Gauthier picked out a location before the dance. He drew out the suspense, sauntering to the spot in what the emcee called “a KBIC kind of walk.”

The powwow also lets Native Americans teach the broader area about their culture, Awanohopay said. 

“It’s 2022, and a lot of people don’t know we still celebrate,” she said. 

Tammy Collins of Muskegon has been coming up since she was a little girl. Her grandfather is from the Shalifoe family. For her, the top draw of coming back is family. 

“The second is being Indian and keeping up with our traditions and making sure they all stay alive, and they’re not taken away from us like they have been in the past,” she said. “And the government’s still trying to oppress us.”

Dana Thomas of L’Anse had been coming virtually all her life from Detroit before moving to the area eight years ago. A freestyle dancer, she enjoys the tradition and community she finds at the powwow. 

The only change she noticed was during COVID, when the dances temporarily moved to online platforms. Being back in person is “far more empowering,” she said. 

“It’s like how they say, there’s power in numbers, whether it’s in regard to your belief system or the community in general,” she said. “This is church for a lot of us.”

Ann Hosie of L’Anse has been coming to the powwow for more than 40 years. She sees it as a time to gather with friends and also make new ones.

She still dances, choosing the traditional style. She also enjoys honoring the veterans and the drums, which she called “the heartbeat of the earth.”

At 75, she likes watching the traditions being passed on.  

“I love to see the little tiny ones, the little children coming in and learning their heritage and culture,” she said. “And every year the pow-wow gets bigger and bigger and bigger.”