Barbara Wilkesbrothers and sisters in Creation. All exist within a highly moralized,
cyclical, and spiritual environment within which each is charged with
the well-being and continuity of the community through participa-
tion in the natural flux of the universe. Stories of their experiences ef-
fect individual and communal transformations and result in the pro-
duction of knowledge necessary to ensure the balance and harmony
of all. Being fixed within the spatial and relational web of the Kai-
naiwa, having “found my place” in the Sundance circle, according
to Maurice’s directions, was instrumental in the development of my
knowledge and understanding of the Kainai and essential to the pro-
duction of ethnography. Only through ecstasis and the visceral expe-
riences of the Sundance was I able to embody these “first principles”
and move beyond the realm of an objective, intellectual exercise to a
full appreciation of Kainai truths.
ConclusionBeginning in 1998 , I did dance at Maurice’s Sundance. To date, I have
completed three years of a four-year commitment. I will not say more
about why I dance other than that I do so for my family. I will say, how-
ever, that the ecstatic experiences noted in this piece were instrumen-
tal, ultimately, in my reaching a decision to dance. Suffice it to say that
my ecstatic experiences and my participation in the Sundance shook
the very foundation of my perceptions and conceptions of the Kainai
and of their identity as a people. Looking back on my journals, they
conjure a virtual reproduction of that time. What cements each event
in my mind is the congruency that exists between my notes and my
recollections of my own experiences. As I reread the diary, each expe-
rience is revitalized and produces a visceral reaction so authentic that
I can smell and taste the food (and especially the “camp” coffee); see
the children in bare feet with runny noses and burr-filled socks; hear
their shrieking and hysterical, raucous laughter; and feel the warmth
of their hands in mine. I can conjure the smells of the kitchen and the
camp, including the sweetgrass mixed with the blood, sweat, and tears
of the dancers and myself; and smell the body odors of the “old ladies”
cooking three meals a day for a crowd of more than one hundred peo-
ple; and that of the men who worked day and night chopping wood