There are probably plenty of folks out there who would debate whether South Dakota is part of the “West.”  The Rockies don’t run through it.  It’s name doesn’t conjure up an image of cowboys. It’s basically on the same longitudinal coordinates as Nebraska.  And Nebraska is not the “West.”  Right?  But South Dakota — it feels Western.  You can sense that something is on the other side. The state is like a dinner bell, telling you to wash up for a supper of hearty mountains and quenching rivers.  And when the corn fields end at the precipice leading into the badlands it becomes all too clear that the stitching on the national hem has busted loose.  “Be prepared for the unfamiliar,” it should say, because that’s what you get a few hundred miles past the Missouri River when unrivaled kitsch meets sacred native lands.

Ross demonstrates the inverted back-flip at the Boys and Girls Club for the photo workshop students.

The world’s tallest prairie dog statue.  A giant angry smoke breathing T-Rex.  Cups of coffee for a nickel.  Wild buffalo herds.  Moon-like topography.  Expansive grasslands.  Chinese tourists.  Fleets of RVs.  Indian reservations.  All of it becomes a big jumble of gaping contrasts around the Black Hills of South Dakota. And in no place was this more evident than in Pine Ridge, in the southwest corner of South Dakota, on one of the poorest Indian reservations in the country.

Pine Ridge is a community that knows poverty unlike almost any other zip code in America, not to mention diabetes, teenage pregnanacy, gang violence, and alcoholism.  In the wealthiest nation in the history of the world, Pine Ridge stands out as a great exception.  Running water and electricity are absent from a huge number of homes.  Families are broken as frequently as windows.  And in twenty years, one woman told us nothing had changed except for the new Subway. So it was with a certain degree of trepidation that we arrived on the “res.”  Being two young white males from Virginia with big cameras around our neck, we knew we would stick out. And we did.  But it led to one of the greatest experiences of the trip.

Ben Smith at the end of our epic weekend.

As it turned out, where we entered as isolated strangers, we left invigorated by new friendships, the warmth of the people at Pine Ridge, and the intimate tour of the traditions of the Oglalla tribe.  In a single day, we participated in a sweat lodge ritual, viewed a sundance ceremony, witnessed the wildest display of horse races, and photographed the evening session of the Pow Wow.  We owe tremendous gratitude to Ben and Diane Smith who offered their front yard to two young homeless strangers and then showed us a day we will never forget.  Thanks also to James Rhodes whose idea it was for us come to Pine Ridge to join him in photographing the Pow Wow.

As you’ll see in this post, we diverged a little from our customary documentary style approach to dabble in portraiture.  It would have been too painful to leave Pine Ridge without portraits of these men and women in beautiful “regalia.”  So on a hot too-sunny-to-get-good-pictures afternoon, we pulled in participants after they finished a competition and asked them to stand for us.  We’re thrilled with the results from our makeshift studio.  And it also gave us a chance to meet and talk with lots of different people who had traveled from different states to compete.  In fact, the entire element of competition was something we hadn’t forseen.  But we weren’t surprised; prize money is a common theme among the events we attend.  Just like at the rodeo or the Lumberjack games, Pow Wows offer prize money for different categories, and so most participants are moving week to week to a new location on the circuit.  And the tug of tradition and family heritage is an equally important aspect along with the money.  But just like so many other festivals we’ve covered, it’s unclear if prize money will be enough to keep these traditions alive.  On the Pine Ridge reservation, fewer and fewer of the younger generation are speaking Lakota.  Basketball is far more popular year round than native dancing.  And traditional garb is worn far more infrequently than contemporary urban labels.  In an era of surging wealth for Indian communities who are distancing from their past and profiting from casinos and natural resource extraction, it’s unclear how Pine Ridge will evolve and transform, if ever.  For the time being, it is a community close to its history, and struggling, just as the rest of the US does, with how to hold onto the past as it moves into a new and unpredictable future.

Pine Ridge Pow Wow from American Festivals Project on Vimeo.

It’s 2pm in Wisconsin Dells, Wisconsin and the AFP is rolling into the Kalahari Conference Center and Indoor water park bleary eyed and exhausted.  Just hours before we were in warm and sunny New Orleans.  But now we found ourselves parked next to a snow embankment 20 hours to the north.  What could possibly have forced us to drive entirely through the night and morning?  None other than…cheerleaders!    But we weren’t showing up at some basketball game to watch pretty girls on the edge of a court.  No, we had come to the Xtreme Spirit Cheerleading and Dance National Championships.  This was the real deal!  The parking lot told us we were in the right place.  Hundreds of vehicles, mostly SUV’s and minivans were parked outside with messages of good luck written on the windows: “We won’t accept 2nd place!” or “Lightning Cheer Academy all the way to the Nationals!”  Obviously, there was a lot of enthusiasm here and we needed it.  As soon as we stepped inside, our exhaustion just disappeared.

From the moment we walked through the front doors it was like we entered an entirely different universe – one defined by sparkles, glitter, new acceptable decibel levels, and reigning laws of aniti-gravity.  We were met with a mind-blowing array of colors, movement, and music that took us from sleepy to full on acid trip. Girls dressed in matching uniforms huddled together in the hallways waiting for their routine to begin while others rushed around making their way to the warm-up areas.  There was every kind of cheer outfit in sight plus the dozens of dance teams (separate from the Cheer competition) dressed in various outfits ranging from tutus to New Kids on the Block-gone-wrong.  The hair bows and eyeliner were equally as colorful and creative.  On the carpet in the hallways there were last-minute makeup applications, wardrobe changes, impromptu routine practices, confrontations with parents, and lots of high-pitched voices.   It wasn’t just the cheerleaders that had their ’spirit’ going on – the parents were equally hyped up.  The parents were usually dressed in the color of their team, and often the dads wore silly hats like giant cheese blocks that lit up with purple lights, or sweatshirts with team mottos written in sparkling glitter.  To top it off, the inside of the conference center was constantly thumping with a medley of ‘mash-up’ music, which combines clips from different songs and mixes them into a catchy, make-you-want-to-dance beats.

Can’t catch the actual event?  Leave it up to Skype to bring you front and center of all the action!

The AFP was quickly taken to this scene.  Photo opportunities popped up left and right as frequently as teenage girls were thrown into the air.  Perhaps the most engaging scene was the main performance stage where the cheer teams showed off their stuff to a panel of judges. Teams of 10-30 members performed 3-4 minute routines that actually involved very little of what we think of as “cheerleading.”  Instead, there was a blur of handsprings, back-flips, and towering human pyramids and other formations too technical to possibly know what they were called.  These were not your average cheerleaders.  No, these were athletes on par with Olympic gymnasts.  When you can pull your leg straight above your head, show off your 6-pack abs, and keep a smile on your face the whole time, then you are something truly special.  Let it suffice to say we were blown away at the athleticism and fearlessness of these competitors.

We sat down with Melissa Ellefson, the owner and coach of Champion Cheer from Sioux Falls, South Dakota.  It wasn’t until then that we learned a great deal about the lifestyle around cheering.

Cheer teams actually have a long season that stretches from September into April.  Typically, teams will compete every other weekend throughout that season, sometimes traveling hundreds of miles.  It is a huge time commitment for the cheerleaders and the parents.  Perhaps the most shocking aspect of this sport is that many girls start when they are three years old.  It was certainly a highlight of the weekend to watch the ‘tiny’ division compete on the massive floor in front of a thousand people.  Many children at that age are still learning how to flat-out run, while these kids are doing cartwheels and competing for championships.  We did notice though that there is a “championship” about every weekend during Cheer season, which makes us question the validity of the statement “national champions.”   But surely there are rules and point systems that we don’t know about, and after-all, this isn’t college athletics.

Speaking of the commitment of parents and coaches, the AFP certainly has a greater respect for the individuals who make these events happen.   Being a parent or coach to these cheerleaders must be an exhausting job.  We were equally spent at the end of the two days.  Literally, drop-dead exhausted.  The two days at the championships left us with mash-up songs stuck in our heads and well educated on the phenomenon of modern cheerleading.

Take a moment to see what we captured from the weekend.  We think you’ll be B-L-O, B-L-O-BLOWN-AWAY!