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This article, composed six months after the October 7 Hamas operation \"Al-Aqsa Flood,\" in the shadow of Israel's retaliatory genocide, was catalyzed by a viral social media video with alternating clips of Palestinian and Native American people dancing in defiant resistance to ongoing white settler colonial ethnic cleansing and genocide, in loving embrace of their own Indigenous ways of being. After an introductory setting of the stage for this video, the first section rehearses the two historical chapters of dance scholar Jacqueline Shea Murphy's The People Have Always Danced, emphasizing the paradoxical late nineteenth-century campaigns (1) criminalizing Indigenous American dances, and (2) appropriating these dances and dancers for non-Indigenous audiences. The second section then pivots to Australian choreographer Nicholas Rowe's Raising Dust: A Cultural History of Dance in Palestine, emphasizing the appropriation of a traditional shepherd dance (Dabke) into the Zionist project of fabricating an orientalist tradition to justify their colonization. Finally, the concluding section spotlights Palestine's Birzeit University and the El-Funoun folkdance troupe as exemplars, captured in the Palestinian hip hop song's neologism \"Palest-Indians,\" of loving Indigenous death-defying dance resistance. Keywords: Palestine, Indigenous Americans, dance, Dabke, decolonization, liberation

The Ghost Dance is commonly understood as a backward-looking rejection of modern life. Yet the teachings of the religion often incorporated exhortations to wage labor and other instructions for good living in the reservation era as necessary measures to precipitate the millennium. In reaching backward and forward simultaneously, the Ghost Dance helped resolve contradictions of Indian identity in the post-conquest world.

Our understanding of the importance for, and the influence on the American philosophical tradition of Native American thought has been usefully extended in a number of ways in recent decades. With a few notable exceptions, however, scant attention has been paid to the unique contribution to the history of American thought made by Black Elk, the preeminentwicasa wakan, or holy man, of the first reservation generation of the Oglala Lakota. Scholarship on Black Elk's religious life has struggled between two interpretive possibilities. Traditionalists are concerned to preserve the image of Black Elk as fully native and traditional, a member of the resistance, if not exactly an open insurrectionist. By contrast, the Catholic camp is concerned to claim Black Elk for the Church, championing him as a great conversion success story. Holler has pointed out that both camps fail to overcome their respective burdens of proof with regard to claims of exclusive observance, however. Thus, he hypothesizes that Black Elk comfortably practiced “dual participation,” contending that the fundamental, relevant religious category for the Lakota was sacred power, not propositional truth. An orientation toward sacred power alone is inadequate to account for Black Elk's dual participation, however; it may illuminate a necessary condition for Black Elk's dual participation, but it does little to explain the particular form his dual participation took. To that end, this essay argues there are at least two specific, novel and creative hermeneutic strategies—reverse typologyandremythologization—developed and deployed by Black Elk as partial means of harmonizing traditional Lakota religion and Catholicism. Taken together with the basic orientation toward power rather than truth, these strategies not only provide us with a fuller understanding of the theological basis of Black Elk's particular form of dual participation, but also recommend Black Elk as a far more sophisticated and significant intellectual figure than he generally receives credit for being.

Robbins provides an overview of The Vanishing American, which is based on a Zane Grey novel of the same name, and outline available scoring options in the 1920s for films that featured indigenous characters. To clarify Sullivan's general understanding of film accompaniment, she turns to her personal correspondence, which confirms her dedication to musical accompaniment carefully matched to moving pictures and sets the stage for her scoring of The Vanishing American. Finally, using Sullivan's annotations in Bradford's cue sheet and her music collection held at the American music Research Center, she reconstructs parts of her score for the film, comparing her musical selections with those recommended by Bradford.

This essay reevaluates the early paintings of Hopi artist Fred Kabotie (ca. 1900–1986) in light of their forgotten inclusion in the U.S. Pavilion of the Venice Biennale in 1932. Kabotie painted images of ceremonial dances alongside Pueblo peers in Santa Fe in the 1910s, at the height of federal assimilation policies. American patrons supported the painters as a means of constructing an indigenous artistic identity for the nation. But the display of Pueblo paintings in Venice marked the limits of aesthetic nationalism, failing to convince overseas audiences that America possessed an artistic treasury older and more authentic than that of Europe. The author recovers Kabotie’s broader engagement with issues of displacement, memory, and embodiment. She proposes that the paintings share a visual logic with musical notation and other diagrams, transmitting the sensibility of Hopi dances across gaps in time and space. They resonate with the politics of memory in recent work by Native artists at the Venice Biennale.

Organizations are not only gendered; they are also classed—that is, they articulate ideas and presentations of gender that are mediated by class position. This article pursues the idea of organizations as gendered and classed by means of a comparative ethnographic analysis of the performance of sexuality in four exotic dance clubs in the Southwestern United States. Strip clubs construct sexuality to be consistent with client class norms and assumptions and with how the clubs and dancers think working-class or middle-class sexuality should be expressed. Class differences are represented as sexual differences in very concrete ways: the appearance of dancers and other staff, dancing and performance styles, and interactions that take place between dancers and customers.