Braiding Sweetgrass

abundance, grabs a whole armload. Her mother bends and
whispers in her ear. She stands indecisive for a moment and lays it
all back down, save a neon-yellow squirt gun.
And then we dance. The drum begins the giveaway song and
everyone joins the circle in regalia of swaying fringe, nodding
feathers, rainbow shawls, T-shirts, and jeans. The ground
resonates with the fall of moccasined feet. Each time the song
circles around to the honor beats, we dance in place and raise the
gifts above our heads, waving necklaces, baskets, and stuffed
animals, whooping to honor the gifts and the givers. Amid the
laughter and the singing, everyone belongs.
This is our traditional giveaway, the minidewak, an old ceremony
well loved by our people and a frequent feature of powwows. In the
outside world, people who are celebrating life events can look
forward to receiving presents in their honor. In the Potawatomi way,
this expectation is turned upside down. It is the honored one who
gives the gifts, who piles the blanket high to share good fortune
with everyone in the circle.
Often, if the giveaway is small and personal, every gift will be
handmade. Sometimes a whole community might work all year long
to fashion the presents for guests they do not even know. For a big
intertribal gathering with hundreds of people, the blanket is likely to
be a blue plastic tarp strewn with gleanings from the discount bins
at Walmart. No matter what the gift is, a black ash basket or a pot
holder, the sentiment is the same. The ceremonial giveaway is an
echo of our oldest teachings.
Generosity is simultaneously a moral and a material imperative,
especially among people who live close to the land and know its
waves of plenty and scarcity. Where the well-being of one is linked
to the wellbeing of all. Wealth among traditional people is measured