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PASSIONATE about ponies

Article Origin

Author

Pamela Sexmith, Sage Writer, BIG RIVER FIRST NATION

Volume

5

Issue

1

Year

2000

Page 6

The modern jingle dress is a recent arrival on the powwow scene. Several tribes take credit for its origin, the vision of a medicine man, according to legend.

He was instructed to create a dress covered with hundreds of rows of jingles made from the folded lids of snuff cans. When danced into the powwow arbor by his granddaughter, the jingles created a mystical sound, calling on the spirits to heal the sick. Now called a healing or singing dress, the clinking of the silver jingles sounds like rain falling on a tin roof.

Twelve-year-old Daphne Morin from Big River First Nation picked up the jingle dance on her own, learning how to keep her jingles in tune with the rhythm of the drum.

"For me, jingle dancing is like riding ponies. It's lots of fun. When you hear the sound of the drums, you feel like moving. Your feet want to dance and make your jingles sing. You have to practice hard to stay in time with the drum. When you are out of step or on the wrong beat, the powwow judges can hear that. When we compete, we want them to see good moves and hear us hitting the right beat," said Morin.

It was her mother who made the bright orange jingle dress that Daphne wears in competition powwow.

Covered with horse images, the jingle dress reflects a youthful passion for ponies.

"My jingle dress is about who I am as a person. I have always loved horses and enjoy riding at home," said Daphne.

Shirley Anne King, a talented bead worker from Thunderchild First Nation, hand stitched the unusual hoof print designs on Daphne's high top moccasins. The hoof pattern also circles her leather belt, complimenting the prancing ponies that gallop across the bodice, skirt and puffed sleeves of her jingle dress.

In an especially clever touch, the ponies on the back of her skirt seem to be running across a rolling field of green grass.

Whether she is dancing the crow hop or landing on both feet for the final beat, Daphne's electric blue streamers give her whirling yellow braid wraps a life of their own.

"Traditional dancing runs through my family. When I dance, I dance with my ponies. I also carry an eagle feather fan, a gift from my grandfather, Douglas Rabbitskin, to go along with eagle plumes in my hair," she said.