Prisoners' Powwow
Native-American inmates at the Leavenworth federal nitentiary use a sacred ceremony to relive their heritage a revitalize their spirits.
In the middle of the gymnasium sits a lone drum encircled by eight empty chairs. It is 8:30 a.m., and pocket of men, all wearing some form of khaki clothing, stand in small groups in the room as visitors and family members slowly come in. Some family members begin to mingle and socialize with the men. Others, uncertain of what to do, sit quietly on a stand of metal bleachers.
As the room fills with more people, eight Native-American men each take a seat around the drum. Soon the sound of drum beats and singing rings out, signaling to all that the powwow has begun. All those in the room are focused on the drumming and singing, some even keeping time with their feet. As the sounds echo around the gymnasium, one can't help noticing the irony that a powwow, a spiritual ceremony that links the past and marks the coming of spring, could occur in this place. This gym is not in a neighborhood high school, but sits behind the high stone walls and steel bars of the U.S. Penitentiary at Leavenworth.
An important part of the powwow was the attendance and active participation of the outside guests. "It feels good to be here and see that everyone is happy," said Joe Arch, an inmate from Cherokee, S.C.
As if it were a family reunion, everyone was invited, cajoled and sometimes pulled into participating in traditional dances that occurred during the seven-hour ceremony. During the first dance, the Ladies' Choice-Rabbit Dance, women picked the men they wanted to dance with and pulled them out on the floor. Even the prison officials managed to take part.
Linda Herman, a drug treatment specialist, and Dan Auxier, a corrections counselor, paired off for the dance. Auxier, who noted that security always was a concern in planning the powwow, said that he helped the inmates put together the event. Watching one of the dances, he described a powwow as analogous to Christmas because of its association with family and friends coming together during a special spiritual time.
Despite the powwow's festive and relaxed nature, one cannot ignore that these men have committed violent crimes. Tisha Morrical, Lindsborg third-year law student, said that many of the inmates were in a federal prison not because of the crime they committed but because of where they had committed it. Unlike other Americans, Native Americans can fall under the jurisdiction of three sovereigns: tribal law, state law and federal law. Morrical said that since reservations are federal land, Native Americans have gone to federal prison.
Morrical said that through the years, the U.S. Supreme Court gradually had extended its jurisdiction to Native Americans.
"It makes it seem like Native Americans commit a more serious crime since they're in a federal prison," she said.
Another serious problem, said Lenny Foster, a spiritual counselor from Fort Defiance, Ariz., was the toll that drugs and alcohol had taken among Native Americans. Events such as the powwow helped the inmates become better humans by giving them the chance to practice their spiritual beliefs.
"We, as Indian leaders and Indian nations, have a legitimate and moral obligation to reach out and help those who are less fortunate," Foster said.
The gray stone, bars and guards effectively limit physical contact between the inmates and the outside world. Yet, it is clear that although these 48 men live in daily isolation from friends, family and the roots of their tribe, they have worked collectively to maintain their Native-American identity and integrity.
Jerel Harris, University Daily Kansan photographer, contributed to this story.
Of the 1,621 inmates housed in the prison that day—the number changes frequently as inmates are released and admitted—48 were Native American and represented tribes from across the country. Pawnee, Dakota, Choctaw, Lakota, Apache, Navajo, Creek, Chippewa, Coeur d'Alene, Seminole and Hopi, to name a few.
Out of a collective need to preserve their identity and cultural integrity and the need to survive the rawness of a prison environment, they formed the United Tribal Culture Group. The group's chairman, Gabe Antelope, has seen many changes among the Native-American population, mostly for the better, in the 23 years he has spent in prison. Antelope said that group members saw themselves as one family, a collective body that supported each other in day-to-day survival in prison and filled the void that came from being cut off from friends, family and tribe.
"It helps us keep hold of not only our spiritual ways but our cultural ways," he said. "Even though we're confined, they can't break our spirit."
"The spring gathering is kind of like that," he said. "It's a renewal."
Looking around the gymnasium at the inmates and watching them interact with one another and with guests and staff, Auxier said that the powwow provided them a respite, albeit a brief one, from the brutish regimen of prison life. The powwow let them relax for a few hours.
"These things are handed down generation by generation," he said. "Even though they're not family, they're related by blood ties."
"When all this is over, they will put back on their 'game face'," he said.
Auxier also said that the powwow was beneficial to the inmates because it helped connect them not only to their culture today but also to the legacy of their ancestors through the drum and dance.
Foster knows the value of the powwow. In his role as spiritual counselor, he said that he had visited Native-American inmates in more than 51 state and federal prisons to conduct powwows and sweat lodges.
"It provides them with the opportunity to go back into the community a whole person," he said.
At age 71, Ken Powlas of Overland Park has been going to the prison to perform traditional dance for about four years. Powlas, a 1951 KU graduate, said that the powwow was good medicine for him and for the inmates because it gave them something else to think about while behind bars.
Keeping up with their cultural heritage also helped the inmates prepare for eventual release, Powlas said, because it helped reintroduce them to their own people.
"We don't think about powwows but once or twice a year," he said. "When you're behind bars, it's a chance to talk to some people, and it's a chance to get involved and learn at the same time."
Art by Matt Hood
Top: A drum similar to this one was used in the powwow.
Top left: Bunches of feathers are used in many Native American ceremonies. Above: Pipes such as this one were used in many traditional ceremonies.
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Hilltopics
May 6,1996
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