The sound of the big drum echoed over the PA system, reverberated around the Rez, and rang out across the universe. The drummers picked up a fast beat and the lead singer belted out a crisp, clear lead that the half-dozen other singers around him grabbed and blasted back to him. Bugz recognized the song immediately—the original jingle dress song given in a dream to her people generations ago.

Bugz jumped to the balls of her feet and started to dance. Instantly, her nerves and anxieties dissipated, washed away by the swishing sounds of the dozens of metal cones fastened to her dress. The baseball-park lights surrounding the arbor flared in a million directions from the jingles as they swung and swayed with Bugz’s every move. She hit a quick double-time pattern with her feet to accentuate the contours of the song’s melody. With one hand on her waist and the other gripping a fan of spotted eagle feathers, she lost track of all her worries, focusing deeper, only on the moment she inhabited. No more self-doubt, no more crowd of onlookers…just her and the drum. For once, Bugz even stopped thinking about the Floraverse and her phone.

In her mind’s eye, Bugz transformed into the visionary young woman who’d received the jingle dress so long ago. The healing dance. Bugz scanned the sidelines and saw the other dancers waiting to join in. Most of these young women danced on the contest pow-wow trail all summer long. Some of Bugz’s cousins even made a living this way, making car payments and paying rent with their prize money. But as she took in the proud smiles in the Elders’ seating section of the crowd, Bugz knew that here, in this part of Anishinaabe country, the jingle dress meant something deeper. Here, it was more than a dance…it was closer to a religion. The people here still believed the jingle dress dancers could make sick people well. The people here still offered tobacco to jingle dress dancers for their relatives who wanted to sober up. The people here still spoke of how this dance would heal their nation from the hangover of colonization. And so Bugz danced, for her family, her people, her way of life.