I remember living on and off the Yavapai-Apache Nation's Reservation while growing up. I would run around the reservation barefooted to all of my cousins' houses. We would climb all over the light brown community building whenever there was a big community feast. As night fell, we would gather at the small administration building for cultural class. We would sit in class with dirt-painted faces, messy hair and snot all over our shirts. We had no limits (except for the caves that hide underneath the cliff that overlooked the Verde River; the caves were our ancestors and off-limits), but we went everywhere.
When I came to an age where I could apply for a job with the nation, I went to work with my grandmother Elizabeth Smith-Rocha and her sister Rebecca Smith-Pavatea. Both my grandmothers had taught me so much and had made me my first buckskin dress and Apache boots so I could run for Miss Teen for my nation. While working and living with my grandmother during the summers, I learned beadwork, Apache camp dresses and about the Apache culture and language.
But there was one part about my culture that I didn't learn (I think because I was already old): the Apache Sunrise Dance.
The Sunrise Dance is a four-day coming-of-age ceremony — a significant and highly spiritual event for the young lady and the Apache community.
It wasn't until I started working for the nation's Cultural Preservation and Technology Department. One of my coworkers was getting ready to hold her daughter's sunrise dance, and we were all helping her prepare for the weeklong celebration.
To help gather sacred items, the family prepares for the dance a year in advance. The week before the ceremony, the community cuts down cottonwood trees and gathers yucca plants and other supplies for the dance. Everyone from the community comes out and assists in preparing food, building camp, digging, camp dressmaking and any beadwork that needs fixing. We also help slaughter a cow that will feed the family and the community.
We all get up before the sun is up to help get as much done as we can before the hot summer Arizona sun rises, and we're home long after the moon has set in the middle of the night. By the end of the week, both camps for the godparents and the young ladies are complete. The young ladies' room is filled with her colorful Apache camp dress, moccasins and her buckskin dress, which she'll wear for the next four days.
Our ancestors handed down the Sunrise ceremony. The young lady temporarily becomes the incarnation of White Painted Woman — our first lady, the mother of our people. During the four-day ceremony, the young lady transitions into adulthood through the blessings of song and dance.
White Painted Woman was a model of heroism and honorable womanhood: When evil monsters were hunting the Apache people, the White Painted Woman gave birth to a son who would destroy the creatures to help make Earth inhabitable for humanity. During the dance, the young lady is never referred to by her name but is known as White Painted Woman.
Throughout the ceremony's four days of observances and events, the young woman is guided and advised by her medicine man.
She dances for many hours throughout the four days to demonstrate her strength. Relatives and friends sing dozens of traditional songs, and special dancers accompany her at appropriate times. During one of the songs, she dances on her knees, with her hands lifted up toward the sun. She also receives a message from her godmother that helps her stay strong throughout her life.
The young lady has an attendant during the dance to help her through her journey. This first attendant is someone who has already gone through her own ceremony. The attendant supplies the young lady with a wooden straw she must drink from for four days, not allowing water to touch her lips. It is also forbidden for the young lady to brush her hair or adjust her clothes, so the attendant helps her with any adjustment that she needs — even scratching an itch on her body.
By the end of the fourth day, the young lady is painted white with the white clay gathered by the white mountain surrounding our community. She is painted white by her Crown Dancers and her godfather to help her not become old and grow white hair.
Alejandra Rubio is a Nevada-based photographer and a member of the Yavapai-Apache Nation, located in Camp Verde, Ariz. You can see more of Alejandra's work on her website, Alejandra-Rubio.com, or on Instagram, at @alejandra.rubio_alex.
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