It takes a village. Or maybe a newsletter?
Each month, we'll bring the best stories from parents on raising their CBC Kids. | | | BY GRACE ELLIOTT | At the beginning of the summer, my 16-month-old daughter, Poppy, accompanied by my 12-year-old niece, Saphire, stepped into the dance arena at the Native Nations at Niagara Smoke Dance Contest. Their matching red and blue regalia swung in the wind coming off the Niagara River, as if already dancing.
Then, the drumming began.
Smoke dance is a fast-paced social dance that originated with Haudenosaunee people, and has quickly grown in popularity, particularly among young women.
My husband’s family is Mohawk from Six Nations, about two hours outside of Toronto. Saphire regularly competes in smoke dance competitions.
A simple suggestion from her mother set my own daughter’s summer of dancing, identity building and family bonding in motion. | | | “Why doesn’t Poppy dance in tiny tots?” she asked, while we were visiting a couple of weeks before the competition.
It was minutes before her regalia was ordered and travel plans were being made.
And now, here we were, listening to the drums, waiting to see if it would take.
When Saphire began dancing, Poppy immediately started bouncing, stomping and clapping, inspired by her cousin’s quick footwork. At the sound of our cheers, she whipped around with the biggest smile on her face and continued her little version of smoke dancing.
She was hooked. For the rest of the competition, she danced on the sidelines. She even approached other dancers to show off her “pins.” (Translation: spins.) | | | "At the sound of our cheers, she whipped around with the biggest smile on her face and continued her little version of smoke dancing." | | | Poppy has now danced in three competitions and wakes up most mornings asking to dance.
While her love of the art form makes me happy, since I am also a dancer, this summer has been more than simply fostering an interest. We’ve been giving her cultural experiences that, because of Canada’s history of horrific treatment of Indigenous children, my husband, Jon, didn’t have until he was much older than 16 months.
When Jon’s father was a young boy living on Six Nations, he and his siblings were under threat of the residential school system. His family fled to New York to escape.
He didn’t move back for decades, with his five children in tow. That meant that Jon wasn’t immersed in his Mohawk culture until he was about 10 years old. | | | But it won’t be that way for Poppy; she will grow up deeply connected to her roots. She spends time on Six Nations, she has an aunt who speaks Mohawk, she has an aunt who writes about her experiences as an Indigenous woman, and she has a father who makes television and movies telling Indigenous stories.
Now, she has this. An experience she can jump into with her cousin, who has become her source of inspiration. (“Saphire! Dance!” Poppy shrieks every time she sees her.)
The night after that first smoke dance contest, we were driving back to our hotel, riding on the excitement of the day.
“I think we just ignited a lifelong passion,” Jon said.
I looked over at him and watched as a tear, heavy with significance, slowly made its way down his cheek. | | |  | | Grace Elliott is a freelance journalist working in Ontario and Newfoundland and Labrador, specializing in arts and community reporting. Her work has been published by CBC News, Toronto Star, PNI Atlantic News, Today’s Parent, This Magazine and the Review of Journalism. She was previously the editor of The Dance Current magazine. | | | | Share this newsletter | | or subscribe if this was
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