[Drumbeat] [Singing] The drum is the heartbeat of the Indian people.

You can feel it in your feet and it moves through your body and you can just feel it in your soul.

When we dance, we're dancing for the ones who can't dance, the ones who have passed away, the ones who have physical disabilities, who can't come out and dance.

The powwow, it's a family reunion.

We love and hug each other and all dance together and celebrate together and it's such a good time.

There's nothing like it.

I've been living this way of life since I was nine years old.

I'm from Kentucky, Boone County, Kentucky, and my relatives are from the Rose Bud Sioux reservation up in South Dakota, Lakota people.

A lot of the old ways were passed to me and taught to me, and they were told by my grandma Nancy White Horse.

And she was the one that brought us to powwow and she explained what powwow was about, about how we how we dance and how we dress.

A powwow is an American Indian gathering.

It's a celebration of tradition and culture and spirituality.

There's dancing, there's drums, there's opportunity to connect with your family, with your extended family, to meet new people.

There's opportunity to eat, there's opportunity to shop -- we have all of that here at our powwow.

We have a traditional powwow.

We practice our language.

We practice the way things have been done at powwow since they first began.

VICTORIA SANCHEZ: The circle is very important in American Indian cultures.

It represents unity and connections.

The powwow itself is a reflection of that.

The dance arena itself is a circle.

The dancers are a circle, the drum is a circle.

And then, everyone else who's there is part of that circle as well, because to come to a powwow, as soon as you're there, you are part of it.

If you came to the powwow, you would see men and women wearing traditional regalia.

That's not a costume: a costume is when you put something on to pretend to be something else, but regalia, you know, that's been passed down for generations and generations and generations.

The powwow lets us see each other as people, and our differences; we celebrate each other's differences, all the different tribes.

I'm Eastern Shore Native, but I wear a Plains regalia that was gifted to me after my tour to Iraq.

I dance it to show respect for the gift.

Coming here lets us show that we're still here, that we're not alone.

The worst feeling in the whole wide world is to feel like you're left alone.

A powwow lets us know that we're still strong, we're still here.

JOHN SANCHEZ: You'll also be able to see us honor some people.

We honor the elders.

We honor those people that have survived cancer.

You remember the people that have passed on, you know.

We say that they've "walked on" or "taken the journey."

[Reading name] [Cheering] And we remember them -- not with a moment of silence, you know, but we really kind of make a lot of noise and celebrate that spirit, you know, and that life.

We honor our veterans.

We honor our people that have put their lives on the line, you know, people that have spilled their blood in other countries, for this country.

My name is Robin Bowen.

I'm a Sisseton Wahpeton Dakota Sioux from the Lake Traverse Reservation of Sisseton, South Dakota.

At this powwow, I am the head veteran, which is unusual, because, normally, there's not a woman head veteran, so this is really a big honor for me.

We find other veterans and we line them up for grand entry and we bring in all the colors that represent all the different services of the military.

I loved my time in the military and it was a family to me, so when I see that Army flag, it really touches my heart because I was under that flag.

I just can't tell you what I feel in my heart, for being able to do this.

My name is Raymond Roach.

I am originally from South Dakota.

My tribe is the Cheyenne River Sioux Tribe.

We all try to stay within our culture.

If you were taught, you know, a certain way, and you hold that true to your heart, then that's what emanates from your drum group for the dancers.

That's the important thing of being on that drum.

If you just show up with a drum and just sing anything, it doesn't, you know... Sure, you might sound good, but where's the heart, you know, where's the teaching, you know?

Where is that tradition that you carry from, you know, before?

[Chanting] As a singer, in essence, what you're doing is you are carrying your traditions and teaching them to others, and they learn, so they can pass it on to their young ones.

CASSEDY: In the songs, some are vocables and the vocables came about because different people from different tribes came and sang at a drum and they didn't all speak the same language.

[Chanting] So we have vocables that have no words.

But, then, we have our Lakota, Dakota, Nakota songs that have words.

There's no competition: "Who's the better singer?

", "Who wants to sing this particular song?

", or "We're going to sing it this way."

We will sing the same songs for years and years to come because they never get old on us.

BROOKS: The drums sing so hard.

They sing because it's part of who they are.

The words come out of their mouths and out of their heart like no other -- it rings.

That's heart.

And that's what I come for, that's what I come for.

I come for that feeling.

You can feel all your ancestors coming to you.

It's a love; it's a passion that our people possess, that we try to share with the public.

CASSEDY: You know, and that's just about making people feel good, that's what powwow is, wachípi.

It's about bringing people to this gathering, singing good songs, sing them strong.

And then dancers to go out there and dance their style and just really have a really good time.

That's what people are looking for.

VICTORIA: Dancing is very important in American Indian culture and it always has been.

In the 19th century, as American Indians were moved into reservation areas, the dancing was actually curtailed by the government.

It was made illegal and so it became a very, very powerful symbol of Native identity.

It is an old saying that, "As long as we dance, we shall know who we are," and that's reflected in powwows today.

[Speaking Ojibwe] My name is G'Mewin Migwans.

I'm from Manitoulin Island, Ontario, in Canada, and I'm Ojibwe.

I grew up with the culture and the teachings and the traditions, but, to me, I wasn't I wasn't being taught these.

It was just the way of life.

Like I would go with Grandma all the time and we'd go collecting birch bark and collecting porcupines and Grandma would tell me the traditions of laying down our tobacco and giving thanks and appreciating that the Earth is giving us these gifts and that we have to appreciate that life that they're giving to us.

I've been dancing for the last 25 years.

Right now, I'm 31.

I've been dancing since I could walk.

Every step you take is a prayer, when you're dancing, and when I'm dancing, sometimes the whole world disappears.

It's just me and the drum and I'm dancing and there may be 200 people on that dance arena, but sometimes it feels like it's just me.

It's just me and that drum and the Creator.

Sometimes I don't even plan my steps; my feet just take off and I'm just out and I'm dancing.

There's a lot of different stories behind each style of dance and each style of dance represents a different teaching.

Women traditional dancers, you know, our feet never leave the ground.

We're always touching the ground because we have that connection to the Earth.

A fancy shawl dancer is probably one of the flashiest and the most energetic women's categories that you'll find.

It's a really, really new dance and that's why you see girls with sequins and neon colors and things you normally wouldn't find in traditional or jingle or, you know, Southern Straight dances.

I think it's a lot of fun.

My name is Patrick Littlewolf Brooks.

I'm from a little all over everywhere.

My mother and my father are both Tuscarora, so that makes me Tuscarora.

I'm from the Wolf Clan.

My grandfather said I always had natural rhythm, so he took me to one of his mentors and they taught me how to grass dance.

And, from that point on, I always felt a different, you know, mindset.

I grew up with all kind of anger and emotion problems, but the only place I could be myself was inside of the circle.

So whenever I dance, everything flows through me, everything.

I mean, after the powwow, my feet are aching, my back's hurting, but I'm not angry anymore.

I'm not upset.

I'm not sad.

I leave everything on the powwow ground, so it's part of who I am.

My wife and I moved here from Washington, DC, and there's a large American Indian community there, and when we came to Penn State, we were a little bit worried about how our boys, you know, would be able to learn about who they are, you know, about our people.

Victoria and I have been doing this for the last 11 years and it's grown from just 25 dancers at the very beginning and a few thousand people, to about a 150 to 175 dancers from all over Indian Country and about 6,000 people come to the powwow every weekend that we have the powwow.

And so there are all these opportunities to just talk and interact with people.

And then you see Native people, not just dressed in their regalia, in the arena, but in street clothes, looking just like me and you right now, today.

And I think it's important to have powwows in places that there isn't a lot of Native population, you know, because we have that cross-cultural exchange.

What it's done here in State College, Pennsylvania, is that it's brought Native people into the community, which, there are only a few families here, and we've put these people into the classrooms, both in public schools and at Penn State, so kids from age 7 to graduate students, they're able to actually speak with American Indian people, actually talk and discuss and ask questions and, from that, they can only learn.

My name is Michelle Bixby.

I am from Susquehanna, Pennsylvania, and I am from the Mohawk tribe.

My name is Brandon Woelkers.

I am not Native American, but I married one.

[Laughter] Yeah, you did.

All right.

Congratulations, y'all!

Today is our one-year wedding anniversary and we got married here.

Yes, we did.

And it was unlike any experience I've ever had.

I wore this.

This is my wedding dress.

This is my wedding shirt, too.

I actually made this for him.

I was gifted this dress by an elder of the Iroquois Nation.

It had belonged to his wife, who was the woman that taught me how to dance, and this was her wedding dress.

And the second he gave it to me, I said, "I'm going to get married in this dress."

I did not grow up knowing.

The only thing I did know was that I had American Indian heritage.

It wasn't until I came to Penn State and connected with John Sanchez.

He told me about the powwow.

It feels like home.

I've discovered a part of myself that I never thought I'd be able to connect with.

I felt like something was missing and I needed to find some answers, and I did, and the answer was the powwow.

We have about 150 volunteers that come in every year.

It's all about community, too, for our people.

It's our Native community, but it's also part of the community here in Pennsylvania.

I came here on a scholarship because I'm Native American and my minority dean introduced me to the powwow and told me it was a great way to try to meet other people from the community that were involved in trying to represent the Native American community, and so I wanted to get involved with that more.

This is my third year, actually.

I've been volunteering since my freshman year and I've enjoyed it very much every year.

I've been volunteering at the powwow, probably, about the last 8 or 9 years, now.

I like being in the arena.

I like seeing their regalia up close.

I appreciate the fact that everything they're wearing is handmade, either by them, by a member of the family.

You'll also be able to experience some food.

I mean, I think that's always the best part.

Mike Zerby is Potawatomi and he comes in and he makes some of the best fry bread that you would ever try.

We have buffalo and we have food that you don't get at any fast-food place.

It's really good food.

We have a core group of people that have been doing it with us for years, that do a lot of the prep work.

Fry bread is kinda one of those funny things.

It's like the all-star Indian food, no matter what part of Indian country you go to.

And everybody makes it differently.

There's no set recipe to it.

You know, every tribe, every person, everybody does things a little bit different.

JOHN: You'll see people that bring in different kinds of arts.

One of our vendors in Albuquerque brings in about a million dollars' worth of silver and turquoise.

We have a person who's coming down from the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation in South Dakota and he brings beaded things.

It's just gorgeous and it's all authentic.

My name is Grant Dial.

I'm from the Lumbee tribe out of North Carolina.

I kind of specialize in the wampum jewelry, which is done from a quahog clamshell and the wampum beads is what was used for money, trade, you know, 300, 400, 500 years ago.

And, in 1971, I started making jewelry and it's all handcut, handshaped.

It educates the public on Indian culture, keeps the tradition of Indian art and Indian culture alive.

The only thing left of that beautiful white fur coat was a white streak down its back and, 'til this day, nobody plays with Mr.

Skunk.

He plays all by himself and he still smells terrible.

End of tale.

[Laughter] I'm Dolores Santha, known as Grandma Coyote.

I'm 89.

I'm from two tribes.

I'm Seneca/Comanche.

You always put the mother first.

My mother was Seneca, my father, Comanche.

They met during World War I.

He had a very nice tail.

My favorite story is "How the Opossum Lost His Tail."

You know, he has such an ugly tail now, it's all pink and bald, and he was so proud of his furry tail and became very obnoxious.

And, because he was so vain about that beautiful tail, Creator never allowed him or any of his descendants to have a beautiful, long, furry tail.

It's all pink and bald and it's ugly.

That's how Opossum lost his tail.

Did you like that?

You know, every tribe had a variation.

Maybe you hear the same story I'm telling, but with a different animal.

Whoopdie doo, he lands.

It's just lessons in humility and how to behave in the community, good manners.

I teach because it's important to keep the legends going.

I think it's important that we share our culture with everyone and clear up those misconceptions that a lot of people have about Native Americans, you know, "savages," "heathens."

We're a lively bunch, don't get me wrong, but, you know, we are really friendly and we embrace everyone.

We open our powwows to everyone for that reason: so they can come and enjoy and, hopefully, feel the same things that we do when we step in that circle and we hear that drum.

BIXBY: Everybody is welcome.

We want people that are non-Native to come and to celebrate with us and to remember us.

It's definitely an experience, nothing like I've ever had before.

To be honest, I'm actually more comfortable in the Native American heritage than I am anywhere else.

There are powwows often, all throughout the year, and every single weekend, there are multiple powwows somewhere out there.

And a lot of people will just kind of go from one to another or attend several over the course of a season, you know, from powwow to powwow.

We travel all the time.

Like we drove 14 hours just to get here and that, to us, now, is a minimal trip.

We travel up to 18-, 20-hour ride, sometimes, just to get to a 2-day powwow.

And being First Nations, we were always nomadic, anyway, like we always used to travel with the seasons.

I come to this powwow because I see a lot of the same people that I don't get to see otherwise, and it's nice to have that family, you know, and have those brothers and sisters and aunts and uncles and, you know you're all kind of adopted.

They're not blood aunties, but we call them aunties and uncles because those are the ones who are helping to guide our children, so that's what we call the powwow family.

We're not blood relation, but we see each other over the course of the summer or every other weekend and we help raise each other up.

Our children start in the powwow circle as soon as they're born.

We've got a few out there that are a couple months old.

And mine all started about 2, 2 1/2, when they were walking good and, you know, able to balance themselves good.

Now, my grandchildren, I'm bringing.

Everybody looks out for everybody else's child and they all give advice to the children and this is how they learn -- everybody shares.

And that's what's been neat about coming back, year after year, is you see the families, you see the new babies, the young children, growing up, and it's very special when they have a new baby and they take the baby out into the dance arena and then the baby becomes part of the family of this powwow.

So it is really, really special to see the same people coming back every year.

I've been coming here for about 5 years.

When you get good vibes at a powwow, you go back.

As soon as you walk on the grounds, you know, if you're open, you'll feel it.

The friendship here, the camaraderie, everything, is just wonderful.

And, this being the last one that John's putting on makes us pretty sad.

The expression is ichántesicA.

It makes our heart sad.

This is the last powwow here.

For 11 years, now, I've been saving all that money that you've been spending on fry bread.

What I was able to do was to start a scholarship here at Penn State University for children like these, your children, your grandchildren, or maybe you, to come to school here.

[Cheering] Historically, there are not a lot of American Indian people in college, you know, and one of the reasons is because of the lack of financial aid.

It would actually give them an opportunity, you know, to get an education, a college education, at one of the best universities in the country, and that's made possible by the powwow and Penn State University.

As long as Penn State exists, this scholarship will exist and, no matter who the student is, who receives the scholarship each year, the scholarship is named after the powwow.

It's the New Faces of an Ancient People scholarship, so the powwow will live on in that legacy.

If we pass on everything our grandparents teach us to our children, our grandparents never die.

Your name will always live on the lips and the minds of children, as long as the stories and the lessons that have been told are passed on, the way they're supposed to be.

So, being a dad, seeing my daughter dance, it's the best feeling in the whole wide world, because she's proud.

When my mother passed away, a week before she passed away, I saw her and I knew she was going to die.

And I said "Mom, you know, what am I going to do without you?"

Her last words to me were, "You'll be okay, son.

We come from brave people" and, I mean, I never forgot that.

The powwow and practicing our language and practicing our culture helps us maintain who we are as a people, so it comes from not letting it slip away and trying to pass it on to our children and our grandchildren.

A couple of weeks ago, my granddaughter came up to me and she goes, "Grandpa, would you please teach me that song again that you used to sing to me?

", so I sang it to her and she's listening to it and she's trying to do it.

And then I said, "Don't you ever forget this, honey," and she goes, "I never will, Grandpa."

Now, that's what it's all about, that's where my culture is, that's who I am, that's who we are as a people.

Support for this program was provided by... and by the members of... For more information about this program, visit...