The Good Red Road To SunDance Land
Chapter 9 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 9
The late afternoon sun hung just above the horizon of the red, hilly desert when we left the quaint town of Snowflake, Arizona. Silver sped down Concho Highway into the heart of desert country, determined to make it to SunDance land before dark. At mile marker nine, he veered the rental truck onto a gravelly road that snaked around mesas and large boulders. The exhaustion, excitement, and high altitude left me feeling light-headed.
Several miles later, we turned off the main dirt road and arrived at a gate. I jumped out of the truck to open the gate, then waited as Silver’s truck pulled in, followed by the three other vehicles in our caravan. After closing the gate, I climbed back into the truck, and we ascended a hill toward a second gate. This one was open and guarded by a man dressed in a red shirt, a red hat, and dark sunglasses.
I peered into the outpost to our right, spotting several individuals dressed in matching red attire, some sporting holsters on their hips. This was the SunDance Security Team. A woman approached Silver’s window. Dark sunglasses shielded her eyes. She was all business, asking for our names and checking them off on the clipboard she held. I caught sight of Matthew walking toward my side of the truck with a big smile.
“Welcome to SunDance!” he said. “How’s the journey so far?”
Before I could reply, the woman told Silver to pull forward. “I’ll come find you soon to help you set up your tent,” Matthew told me as we rolled away.
We slowly crept down the dusty, red lane. To my right, I beheld the massive dance arbor, stretching 180 yards in diameter and encircled by cottonwood trees and wooden totem poles that were intricately carved into various animal shapes. In the center of the arbor stood the SunDance tree. A round patch of lush green grass surrounded it. The remainder of the arbor, aside from a long rectangular section near the entrance, was a vast space of red dust.
Up ahead stood an incredibly tall teepee, at least 30 feet high, and beyond that, a giant, white tent structure known as “The Taj,” which served as the kitchen, dining room, and general assembly areas. This was our next stop. Silver pulled slightly off the lane and turned off the ignition.
We all disembarked from our vehicles and trooped up a short cement staircase into the Taj. Near the entrance, several women sat behind a long row of foldout tables where various lists and information packets lay in a neat, orderly arrangement. A smiling woman with long, grey hair was the first to greet me.
“Welcome to SunDance!” she said pleasantly. “Here is the waiver you need to sign. You will also need to sign this document saying that you have never been convicted of a sexual crime against children, and that you did not bring any drugs, marijuana, or alcohol onto the land.”
She waited for me to finish, then looked intently into my eyes and asked, “Do you promise to take self-responsibility while you are here and vow to be part of the solution and not part of the problem?”
Though startled by her bewildering question, I agreed and made my way down the tables. Each clipboard held sign-up sheets for various activities, volunteer tasks, and ceremonies. The Dragon Crew needed people to run rocks for the nightly sweat lodges. I could be a Maku Buddy and help an elderly person pick up ice, pitch their tent, and move their items into and out of the dance arbor. Apprentices could sign up for the Cherokee Adoption Ceremony. One woman asked me if I wanted to receive a private Book of Life reading or a sorcery session with one of the trained senior medicine people. My eyes widened when I saw the price tag. Each 60-minute session cost $175 for apprentices and $200 for non-apprentices. I declined.
Once we all finished registration, Silver led our caravan past the sweat lodge area, the shower house, and the children’s cabins to the end of the road. There, he parked, and we began to unload our gear. Dancer camp was tucked away beneath a magnificent mesa. Shrubs, cactus, stones, and juniper trees covered the red, sandy ground. I saw numerous tents pitched on small hills; many were tied to trees to keep them from falling over. The desert winds were fierce.
After walking for some time, I found a small hill next to a juniper tree that I thought would be perfect. I had to make several trips back to the truck to retrieve all my items. True to his word, Matthew found me and helped me set up my tent.
The next morning, during the general camp meeting, I received my work assignment. For the next five days, I would be part of Arbor Crew, the largest crew with around 85 people. I was delighted to learn I would be working alongside Silver, building and decorating the water sanctuary. Situated just south of the dance arbor, this wooden hut served as a vital space during the SunDance. Dancers would leave the arbor and visit the water sanctuary to drink, as no food or beverages were permitted inside the arbor during the SunDance.
Time moved differently on SunDance land. Days felt long, but they passed quickly. Far from society, I found it easy to forget my stresses and worries.
Each morning, breakfast was served from seven to eight. Then, I joined my fellow Arbor Crew members around the center tree. We formed a circle and held hands as one of the Arbor Crew Chiefs offered a prayer to Great Spirit. We worked until noon, had lunch, then worked again until five.
On Friday night after dinner, the entire camp gathered in the Taj for a general camp meeting. In one corner, I spotted a beautiful drum, about six feet in diameter. Its face looked toward the sky, and seven men and women were seated in chairs around it.
As I gazed at the drum, the woman seated in the center glanced around at her fellow drummers, silently mouthing something. She then raised her drum beater, a long stick with sheep’s wool on one end, and began striking the drum in a steady rhythm. The others quickly joined her, and a beautiful song erupted from her voice.
H’yah, h’yah yah-hey yay-hey yo-o dey gai yey
After this first line, all the drummers continued the song.
H’yah, h’yah yah-hey yay-hey yo-o dey gai yey
N’getch-ay cah-ah uh-pey to’wah-ah
N’getch-ay cah-ah uh-pey to’wah-ah
Hey- wah-hey yah
Hey wah-hey yah
“That’s Naomi Everton,” Silver said, leaning close to my ear so his voice could carry over the music. “She’s the SunDance Drum Chief.”
Moved by the beauty of the song, tears welled in my eyes as powerful feelings of love and belonging opened my heart. Many people had jumped to their feet, singing and moving their bodies. The faces around me radiated with joy, and though I didn’t know the words, I smiled and sang along as best I could.
During lunch on Saturday, I carried my tray toward Silver and found him seated next to a petite woman with stylish blond hair. She looked to be around fifty.
Silver introduced us. “This is Necea Klein. She’s a Quodoushka instructor—one of the best, so I hear.”
Necea accepted the compliment with a knowing smile, as if she’d heard it many times before.
Silver stood up and motioned for me to take his seat. “This one’s eager to learn,” he told Necea. “I’ll talk to you guys later.”
“Hello,” Necea said, her voice smooth and pleasant. “So you’re with Silver’s clan? You do have the Blue Thunder glow.”
It seemed auspicious to meet one of the Deer Tribe’s top sexuality instructors at my first SunDance. Could this be a medicine sign? Though I couldn’t explain why, I felt drawn to Necea and found her mesmerizing. She seemed willing to chat with me, but fearing she would find me boring and irrelevant, I brought up the topic of Quodoushka.
“I read about it recently on the Deer Tribe’s website,” I said. “I’m very interested.”
Necea opened her mouth to respond, but before she could speak, two pretty, smiling young women approached our table.
“Hi, Necea!” the blonde one said. Her companion had dark, curly hair.
“Hi, babes!” Necea’s smile widened. She turned to me. “These are my friends, Angie and Julia. They help run my Quodoushka workshops in New York. Oh, these girls are just fantastic! They cook, they clean, they help me with enrollment. How many Qs have we done there now?”
“Oh, like six or seven?” Julia, the blonde, said. “They’re so much fun!”
“I’m hoping you will come to my Phoenix workshop this January,” Necea said, giving me a wink.
“Oh, you should!” Angie quickly chimed in. “Every time I do a Q, I feel sexier and prettier. And Necea’s Qs are the best!”
Necea smiled quietly as Angie and Julia chatted away.
“Okay, we have to go. We’ll see you later. Bye!” The young women giggled and walked off, leaving Necea and me alone again.
“I have to go too,” Necea said. “I’m leaving the land today. I won’t be here for the dance. Oh, I would love to have you at a Q! I don’t usually do this, but I’m going to give you my personal cell number. Reach out if you want to register, and I’ll get you a discount.” She wrote her phone number on a piece of paper and handed it to me.
She studied my face for a moment. “It was so good to meet you. I hope I see you again.”
With one last smile, she said goodbye and walked away.
That night, we gathered in the Taj for a medicine teaching given by our SunDance Dance Chief, an elderly, white-haired woman named Annika West. She smiled as she spoke into the mic.
“Pull out your Book of Life readings, if you have one, so you can refer to it throughout the talk,” she instructed. Nearly everyone in the room had a Book of Life reading, and suddenly, I felt left out.
Annika’s talk was far over my head. She used many terms I didn’t understand, such as “She Thoughts,” “Stream of Livingness,” and “Arrow of Intending.” She spoke about numbers as if they held deep meaning. As I looked around and saw people nodding along, I felt intimidated and wished I had the same knowledge they did.
After the teaching, the SunDance leaders directed us to line up for the gifting ceremony.
Like everything else on SunDance land, we lined up according to seniority. Those who had danced the most dances were first in line to bestow their gifts upon the SunDance Hereditary Lineage Leaders, which included Annika, SwiftDeer, and SwiftDeer’s wife, Joanne Nightbird. First-time dancers would go last. This year, however, the gifting ceremony unfolded a bit differently because SwiftDeer was gravely ill.
I had yet to see or meet SwiftDeer because he remained in his camper, being cared for by Joanne. Rather than offer him his gift in the Taj, as was normally done, we trekked out to his RV. When it was my turn to go inside, I saw an old, frail-looking man. I offered him the Pendleton blanket I had purchased, along with my tobacco offering. He looked me in the eyes with a weak smile, touched the blanket, and then I was ushered out the door.
Our first sweat lodge took place on Sunday evening and was over quickly, with much less heat than I was accustomed to in Silver’s lodges. On Monday evening, after our second sweat, I sat outside my tent, lost in thought. I noticed a figure approaching and smiled when I saw it was Matthew. He sat beside me, and we snuggled close, our fingers intertwining. After talking for a while, there was nothing more to say, so we sat in peaceful silence, enjoying the cool night air and watching the beautiful full moon rise above the horizon.
Go to Chapter 10.