Next Year, I Dance
Chapter 7 of Neophyte: My Life In A Sex Cult
This is a chapter within my memoir, Neophyte, about my time in a harmful cult called the Deer Tribe Metis Medicine Society. It is not meant to be read as a stand-alone post. To view all book chapters, click here.
The Deer Tribe is a dangerous cult. While they present themselves as a spiritual community offering healing and empowerment, their practices are rooted in manipulation, control, and cultural appropriation. Like many cults, they offer moments of genuine connection and personal insight — but these are strategically used to gain trust and draw people deeper into a harmful system. Readers are encouraged to read the entire book before forming opinions about the Deer Tribe.
Chapter 7
At the June sweat lodge, an electrified energy filled the space. Several people were talking with great excitement about an extraordinary event they were preparing to attend: the SunDance.
“Tonight’s lodge will be slightly different,” Silver said during his sweat lodge talk. “I’ll be running an east lodge, so it will be hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot!”
“And the reason for this,” he continued, “is because several of us will be traveling to Arizona for ten days of ceremony in the high desert. We will do four sweat lodges, four nights in a row, to purify ourselves and prepare our bodies and spirits for a three-day dance called the SunDance. The SunDance is an ancient ceremony, at least ten thousand years old, where we dance to the Tree of Life, while fasting from food and some people also choosing to fast from water. The drum will beat for twenty hours a day, from six in the morning until two in the morning each day for three days, and a team of singers will sing for us as we dance our prayers to the tree. We do this for the collective, for the healing of our planet, and for our personal prayers.”
Later that night, during the feast, Matthew sat beside me, chatting away about the SunDance. This would be his third year in a row to attend.
“It’s incredible,” he said, his face animated. “They run eight sweat lodges at a time, with around twenty people inside each lodge. Can you imagine the energy created from one hundred and sixty people sweating and praying at the same time? The energy on the land is one hundred and forty-four to one.”
“What does that mean?”
“One hundred and forty-four is the speed of Great Spirit. So everything is exponentially faster and more powerful.”
“So, this is a Deer Tribe ceremony?”
“Yeah! It’s their biggest event of the year. People come from all over the world to attend. Swift is there and always gives an awesome teaching. Here, I’ll show you a picture of him,” he said, pulling out his phone. A few seconds later, he held it out so I could see the screen.
I looked at the photo of SwiftDeer and saw an old man with white hair, a white beard, and wrinkled, weathered skin covered in age spots. He wore a button-down long-sleeved red shirt and an intricately designed necklace of turquoise and peach-colored stones. He was positioned at a side angle to the camera, smiling into the crowd. He reminded me of a cowboy.
“And that’s his wife, Joanne Nightbird,” Matthew continued, “she’s half Japanese, like me.”
Joanne was the exact opposite of SwiftDeer. She was slightly plump with dark hair, smooth skin, and a poised presence. The corners of her mouth were upturned in a very tiny smile. She appeared at least a decade younger than SwiftDeer, maybe more, and held herself with an air of regality.
I felt slightly unsettled. Memories of the Andrea Smith article flashed through my mind. Here was an old white guy, and his wife was part Japanese, and they were the leaders of this Native American tradition? Something didn’t seem right about that, and I mentioned it to Matthew.
“Swift is half Cherokee, and he was instructed by the Elders to bring these teachings to the metis,” Matthew explained.
“What is metis?” I asked.
“It means ‘mixed-blood,’ which technically we all are, and it’s how we are going to heal the family hoop. Silver has several recordings of Swift talking about this. I’ve listened to some of them.”
As I pondered this, Matthew veered in a new direction. “So what do you think? Want to come to SunDance this year? I bet you could join one of our caravans.”
I was still dazed and reeling from the intensity of the lodge I had just come out of. A sweat lodge during summer in Texas was not for the faint of heart. The idea of doing five of them in the Arizona desert was too absurd to even consider. No thanks! I thought. I’m good.
But at the following Wednesday night class, I began to have a change of heart. When I walked into the room, I noticed several people had with them round, canvas paintings of varying sizes. When I questioned Sally about them, she smiled and said, “These are our SunDance shields.”
“So tonight we are going to have our Shield Class,” Silver announced after the drumming and singing portion ended. “Each person who is attending SunDance as a dancer or as a drummer/singer painted a shield which holds their intent for the ceremony. This is powerful medicine because the energy of the SunDance is carried out with the dancer into their world for the entire year. So tonight we are going to honor them and bless them for their giveaway.”
Silver stood and removed the beautiful round painting that hung on the divider wall behind him. One by one, each person planning to attend SunDance brought their personal shield up to this wall, hung their shield on the hook, and sat beneath it in a wide wooden chair covered with a Pendleton blanket. Then, we listened as they shared the meaning behind their shield’s painting, their motivation for attending SunDance, and what they intended to dream into their life the following year.
When they finished speaking, Silver cued everyone off. “Okay, let’s send some good ju-ju!” Silver rubbed his hands together briskly and we all followed suit. “Uh-one, uh-two, uh-three! Woosh!” I watched as everyone held their arms straight in front of them, palms out, and quickly did the same with mine. The person sitting on the chair held their arms open wide, as if coming in for a group hug, and breathed in deeply with a big smile.
I left class that night feeling wistful. How wonderful it must be to paint a shield and be part of something so epic and meaningful! I felt a stirring in my heart, and I wondered if I was making a mistake by choosing not to go.
There were no classes for the next two weeks because Silver and the group were at SunDance. I spent most of my time searching online job boards and feeling discouraged. I thought college was meant to prepare me for a career, but I was quickly discovering that most jobs wanted work experience and couldn’t care less about my GPA.
Finally, two weeks passed and I went back to the Wednesday class, arriving a few minutes early. As the SunDancers trickled in, I noticed they seemed different. They were vibrant, glowing, magnetic, their faces alight with huge smiles. Julian was giddier than usual. While we waited for Silver, I overheard snippets of conversations, but the context was lost on me. The air of mystery created was irresistible, and I wanted to know more.
“How was SunDance?” I asked Cora when she sat down beside me.
“Awesome!” she replied, and said nothing more. During break, I asked this same question to a few others who had attended, but they all smiled mysteriously and remained tight-lipped.
I continued to observe them that night and at the next sweat lodge. These were the people who held leadership positions in the group. They were the ones who spoke beautifully when praying, who carried themselves confidently, who seemed to have their lives figured out. They seemed happy, certain, and solid in their identity. I wanted to feel that way. I wanted to live like that.
So, I made a decision. Next year, I silently vowed that I would attend SunDance. I wouldn’t let anything get in my way.
Go to Chapter 8.