And Then They Danced: Cross-Cultural Reflections on the Smoki People is an exhibit created out of genuine collaboration. Efforts toward establishing two primary Advisory Councils for this specific project began during the summer of 2004; the result of these efforts has been instrumental in the development of what we believe to be a substantive and pivotal exhibit for our Museum.

The 70-year legacy of the Smoki People organization required intense research that was initiated several years ago with our Museum volunteers. Rummaging through archival materials, period photographs, costumes as well as a thoughtful oral history project and countless interviews with former Smoki resulted in a rich body of memorabilia and data on both Smoki and Prescott history.

Members of the Smoki People Advisory Council have shared with Museum staff every aspect of the organization from its inception in 1921, through the Smoki People hey-day, some tragedy, and the final years. Honest discourse with Museum staff generated provocative questions about the Smoki "Ceremonials" and the corresponding activities of these motivated citizens.

While the Smoki Advisory Council has provided intimate reflections on the actions of the Smoki People over seven decades, the Native American Advisory Council has shared heart-felt contemplation over the Smoki People organization.

Through candid dialogue, Museum staff and Trustees have acquired a deeper understanding of the issues presented when non-Indian peoples emulate the spiritual ceremonies of Indigenous American tribes. Specifically every element of the current exhibit was communicated to the Native Council for consideration. Together with critical input from the Smoki People Advisory Council as well, we have selected photographs, archives, artifacts and the narrative content of this complex story. Some objects and photographs were deemed inappropriate for display by the Native Council and consequently are not on view in this exhibit. Likewise, the Smoki People Advisory Council wished to include vital aspects of their organization which are shared in And Then They Danced.

The journey that commenced many years ago and the resultant mutual awareness has produced an equitable exhibit that will hopefully engender understanding and with continued guidance from both Councils in the coming years, prolific growth for the Museum.

A three-part series on the Smoki People history originally published in Talking Sun, the Smoki Museum newsletter.

Just over a year ago my husband and I relocated to the Prescott area with our two school-age children and like many other new community members; we are continually discovering the unique history of Prescott's people and places. Understandably, the natural beauty took hold of us first as we raced from one hiking trail or climbing destination to the next. As we settled however, and started to really explore, the people and their stories, and the places with their intrigue, began to peak our curiosity.

Today, I have become an integral part of one of these Prescott foundations, the Smoki Museum. One of my early fact-finding fieldtrips to the Prescott Parks and Recreation building, (a-k-a, the old National Guard Armory Building) proved fruitful, not just for my children's summer activity schedule but also because I noticed some cool-looking funky-old rock buildings next door. Clearly these structures had been around for awhile but what was their origin? Who built them, and why? And what was housed their now? I had to know, so I took note of the name, signed my kids up for a horseback riding camp and went straight home to conduct an internet search; a search that revealed both a complex and compelling story.

I suppose in order to fully understand the story we need to start at the beginning. In the spring of 1921, Prescott's population numbered just over 5,000 people. An isolated mountain town, Prescott's economy was driven primarily by mining, ranching, lumbering, government and health care. For entertainment, town's people could enjoy a silent movie shown at the Elks Theater and the annual Frontier Days Rodeo held at the Prescott fairgrounds was the highlight of each summer. With World War One coming to an end only two years prior however, this postwar era proved financially challenging both nationally and locally for the Prescott community.

In our Nation's Capital, President Warren G. Harding declared, "America's present need is not heroics, but healing …" and urged his cabinet members to live within their budgets. Here in Prescott, the ramifications of this difficult period threatened the cancellation of the annual rodeo. Organizers did not have the resources necessary to maintain livestock at a feed lot in Phoenix. Spurred by an idea conceived by Grace Sparkes, then Secretary for the Yavapai County Chamber of Commerce, local businessmen staged a "Way Out West" show in an attempt to raise funds to save the Frontier Days Rodeo.

The "Way Out West" program capitalized on the romanticism of the old west and the then popular notions about cowboys and Indians held primarily by whites. The show consisted of a series of acts. One such act was a dance that emulated a traditional Native American ceremonial dance. This act was choreographed by the "Smoki" People, a fabricated tribe deriving its name from "moqui", a term utilized on early Arizona maps to designate Hopi land. These Prescott businessmen, calling themselves the Smoki People, particularly emphasized their interpretation of the Hopi Snake dance in the show's line up. While the true Hopi Snake dance was and remains a deeply spiritual and sacred tradition among its people; the Smoki Snake dance was created as a performance, with its dancers in costume in order to promote support for the rodeo through tourist trade.

With the tremendous success of their first performance, the local white businessmen decided to make the event an annual one, and called upon Ms. Sharlot Hall to write a fictional history for the manufactured "Indian tribe". The result was a sixteen-page pamphlet, "The Story of the Smoki People" printed June, 1922 by the Prescott Courier. Although the Smoki People originally formed in order to salvage the rodeo and boost the local economy, along the way their focus changed.

By the 1900's the violent wars to contain Indians on reservations were over. The transcontinental railroad had carved "white" paths into the open plains of the West; the buffalo herds had vanished. Land was still an issue however; Native Americans held 155 million acres in 1881 and by 1900 only 77million. Between 1900 and 1910 another 18 million acres were taken by the U.S. government through the policy of forced allotments and the subsequent sale of "surplus lands" to development companies.

U.S. policy was now focused on the complete assimilation of Native Americans into the dominant white society. Referred to as the "Indian problem", U. S. policymakers believed the way to make the "problem" disappear was to educate native children into American society and out of Native American culture. A system of off-reservation boarding schools was designed to do just that. Speaking in their native language was disallowed; the Indians were to follow Christian teachings; to have their hair cut; wear "citizen" clothing; adopt Christian practices; and learn to schedule their day by quasi-military regimen. Children were taken from their land and homes and away from their parents and extended families to live among strangers.

Rejecting the government's policy of assimilation, charter members of the Smoki People felt strongly that vestiges of native culture should be preserved hence; they began the work of earnest study by researching the ceremonial dances and chants of selected Southwest Indians. Their goal was to produce and present more realistic performances for the "Way Out West" program, a program that had now evolved into an annual event. Enlisting the advice and guidance from noted frontierswoman, anthropologist, and artist Kate T. Cory, the Smoki People now had a deeper cause.

The late 1920's marked a period of significant growth in Arizona archaeology. Viewed as a state that was blanketed with prehistoric villages, several institutions from out-of-state were conducting important fieldwork throughout the area including, central Arizona. With the founding of the Museum of Northern Arizona in 1928, and the commencement of the graduate program at the University of Arizona in 1927, resident research archaeologists began to examine their own "backyard". One such individual was Dean, Dr. Byron J. Cummings, then Director of the Department of Archaeology at the University of Arizona.

Cummings was preceded by a construction worker with a passion for archaeology, Mr. J. W. Simmons. Simmons' attraction to the study of ancient people was spurred by the acquaintance of two noted Smithsonian archaeologists, Jesse Walter Fewkes and John C. Harrington. The construction worker turned avocational archaeologist focused his attention on central Arizona sites, many already being illegitimately dug by private collectors or pothunters. While Simmons shared their enthusiasm, more importantly, he understood the significance of recording data, mapping and photographing sites, and labeling artifacts. Consequently, in 1931 the Smoki People requested that J.W. Simmons concentrate on obtaining Native artifacts for preservation and display. He chose King's Ruin in Chino Valley, the first excavation done outside of the Verde Valley in Yavapai County. Dr. Byron Cummings joined Simmons with a field archaeology class from the U of A the following year for further excavation at the site.

It was at this time that the Smoki People organization recognized the need to properly house the artifacts excavated from this site and other sites throughout Lonesome Valley. For ten years prior, Smoki People paraphernalia had been stored in the basement of the Palace Hotel; the idea to create a Prescott museum was conceived by the Prescott businessmen not only as an appropriate repository for ancient artifacts but also for a much needed meeting place for the Smoki members.

Malcolm B. Cummings, son of Dr. Byron Cummings and the Smoki Museum's first curator, wrote of the proposed museum's place in the greater community. "A museum to be successful and fulfill its purpose, should be of service and benefit to the community and area in which located. Not only as a show place for artifacts recovered from the ruins but also in a sense as a central meeting place of ideas and opinion which these artifacts and the study of their cultures brings to light." He continued, "A program to further and carry-out this purpose requires time and effort, as does the carrying-out of any constructive enterprise. We hope this purpose can be approached, and the ultimate goal reached through continued excavation and exploration work; the acquiring of more display material; special exhibits of the new artifacts and other material as they are brought to light; informal talks on subjects of archaeological interest; and an effort to intensify on the part of our younger generation an interest in, and a knowledge of these ancient peoples who lived and struggled and passed on so very long ago."

Having accumulated a building fund by the early 1930s the Smoki People were now looking for a place to build a permanent "home". Mrs. Ada Joslin, a Prescott resident, had intended to donate land to the city for the creation of a park. As per her wishes, the Smoki People organization was to be allotted a portion of this land for their "home on the Mesa". On January 5, 1931, the City of Prescott deeded lots 10-14 of the Joslin Subdivision to the Smoki People. The Smoki vowed to alleviate unemployment in the city brought on by the Depression and members were asked to donate one day's income to the project. Charles C. Elrod, then "Chief" chose Chris Totten as architect for the "Pueblo" building. Four months later and utilizing one hundred cubic yards of rock, a labor of love was completed and momentum was "building" for the Smoki People to further their cause with the addition of a Prescott museum.

With the completion of the Smoki Pueblo building in April 1931, Prescott resident, Secretary of the Yavapai County Chamber of Commerce and member of the Arizona Emergency Relief Association Board, Grace Sparkes obtained funding to build an additional pueblo-like museum structure in 1934 from the Civilian Works Administration (CWA). Under the guise of the CWA, the Emergency Relief Association (ERA) work program provided relief workers as additional labor on the project. Smoki members also provided labor and likewise donated funds and supplies to the museum effort. Glenn Despain was selected as architect for the venture with assistance from Charles C. Elrod, Russell Insley and Kate T. Cory.

The Smoki Public Museum officially opened May 29, 1935 with a formal dedication by Reverend Charles Franklin Parker and addresses by Homer Wood, Chairman of the Yavapai County Chamber of Commerce, Ray Young, Smoki "Chief", Russell Insley of the Yavapai Archaeological Society, Dr. Byron J. Cummings, Director of the Department of Archaeology at the University of Arizona, and Louis Caywood, author and excavator of Tuzigoot and Fitzmaurice Ruins.

Constructed of native materials, the 5100 square foot Museum includes a 60x60' gallery space and originally incorporated a workshop and housed the Museum's first curator, Malcolm Cummings. The single story structure was built from fieldstone and flagstone rubble masonry with hidden mortar. A vein of coursed stone appears above the window level while the tops of the window frames are embellished with a pattern of sandstone set on edge. The interior walls are made of unfinished stone and the floor is fabricated of sandstone set directly into cement. The gallery's decorative ceiling contains nearly 30,000 logs and saplings from the Prescott Forest which were utilized as poles, vigas and latillas. A double-mouthed Zuni-style fireplace and chimney was designed and painted with katsina images by Kate T. Cory. A Hopi-style "kiva" sits at the center of the Museum's gallery space. Doors are constructed of wood slabs with iron hinges. Outside a parapet conceals the building's flat roof. Total costs for the Museum were $15,132.65 for labor; $13,523.53 for materials; and the contribution from the ERA was $2,107.88 generating a total cost of $30,764.06. Construction man-hours totaled 24,368.

For seven decades volunteers from the Prescott community have kept the doors of the Museum open while simultaneously nurturing her contents and seeking to further the mission of the Museum's first curator, Malcolm Cummings, "…to intensify on the part of our younger generation an interest in, and a knowledge of these ancient people who lived and struggled and passed on so very long ago."

Navigating a Stormy Past: The Smoki Museum Charts New Territory By L. John Tannous

The name "Smoki" has signified many different things to many different people. In the Native American community of the Southwest, it's come to be a term synonymous with the worst attitudes of the Western Anglo world.

When I've mentioned that I am the Director of the Smoki Museum upon meeting a Native American artist or leader, I am sometimes greeted with a cold blank stare. I've been told outright, just at the mention of the name Smoki, "We won't work with you."

On the Hopi Mesas, the Hopi may tease an Anglo co-worker by calling him a "Smoki."

These sentiments exist as a response to the seventy-year history of a controversial Prescott, Arizona based organization, the Smoki People, which first formed in 1921. This group of Prescott businessmen and their families put on a show each year, "The Smoki Ceremonials," which depicted various aspects of many Native American religious rituals and dances. But there was one catch.

The thought of a non-Native group of people dressing up as Indians and "performing" various deeply religious Native rituals was not only offensive to many in the Native American community, but it also struck an intense political cord. At the time of the Smoki heyday, federal laws prohibited many Indians from participating in their own religious ceremonies. In fact, there are documented records of military slaughter of Indian groups when their only offense was to practice their religion.

Balance that with the thought of an Anglo group freely and openly performing mock Indian spiritual ceremonies, before large paying audiences. Many today find the thought chilling. It's certainly enough to offend many Native Americans.

Balancing Act

When the Smoki Museum first set forth the goal of telling the history of the Smoki People through a permanent exhibition (opening in October 2005), the challenge was to face this daunting past head-on, bringing Native American views to the center of the discussion.

The story, however, bears many other perspectives. Museum staff has sought the input of scholars, historians, long-time Prescott residents, and of course, past members of the Smoki People organization. Who and what were the Smoki People? How did the group impact the American cultural crossroads of the twentieth century? What does their story tell us about ourselves today? Everyone seems to have a different take.

Long-time Prescott residents speak of the magic and wonder that the Smoki People brought to town every year. The Ceremonials were, for them and for the group, a kind of spiritual experience. They tell of the power behind the awed silence and anticipation of a crowd of thousands as the Smoki Snake Dance would begin. These experiences were a major part of their sense of community belonging. Some get very heated when the Hopi protests of Smoki are mentioned. "The worst thing that could have happened to this community was when the Indians started protesting the Smoki," one cowboy tells me. "They should never have had to stop."

On the other hand, some Prescott residents tell us that they didn't care much for the dances and chose to ignore them. For some, it was just plain weird.

In the academic world, we gain more perspectives. One local historian praises the Smoki People's seemingly tireless devotion to accuracy, and notes that their hearts were always in the right place. Another scholar, a professor of Anthropology, tells us that the name Smoki carries with it the "face of racism."

Past members of the Smoki People tell us that the intention was always about education and preservation, and that the Ceremonials were conducted out of respect for the native peoples they intended to portray. Many say that they believe only a minority of Native Americans were offended by the Smoki dances. Others tell us that the organization was mostly a tight-knit social group that acted as an extended family for those who participated. They adopted a catch phrase over the years: "Prescott was Smoki and Smoki was Prescott."

At one time in Prescott's history, its population counted 5,000 while over 500 families were involved in the Smoki organization. It was clear to us early on that we were dealing with a history that wasn't just about a single group, but about a whole community. Finding the right mix of voices would be essential.

Working Together

In addition to these groups, Museum Staff sought the help of the native community. A Native American Advisory Council (NAAC) was formulated to assist the Museum's focus on producing a historical exhibition detailing the Smoki People story. It took several months to gain the trust and support of the Council members.

Leigh Kuwanwisiwma is the Director of the Hopi Tribe's Cultural Preservation Office. When Kuwanwisiwma first took the job of Director in the 1980's, he was informed of the Smoki Ceremonials by a Hopi Snake Priest. It was deemed necessary for the Hopi Tribe to take action. Kuwanwisiwma led a group of Hopi who traveled, at the invitation of the Smoki People, to witness the Ceremonials in 1989.

Afterwards, the Hopi again asked the Smoki to end their activities, but the Smoki ignored this request, continuing with their plans for another performance in 1990. Kuwanwisiwma says that this was the typical response for decades when the Hopi would ask the Smoki to stop. It came to a point where the Hopi Tribe formally launched a protest of the Smoki Ceremonials, eventually picketing the 1990 performances.

After nearly a century of ignored requests, Kuwanwisiwma and the other members of the NAAC are now advisors. Smoki Museum staff regularly meet with them seeking input and advice not only for the exhibition, but also for the overall direction of the Museum.

Change and the Future

I asked Hopi artist, Ramson Lomatewama, why he agreed to join the NAAC when he was well aware of the history of the Smoki People. He replied that he had heard about the new direction and focus of the Museum and that was all he really needed.

"People change and so do organizations," Lomatewama said. "[For Smoki] it's been a long time in coming."

Indeed, the focus of the Museum today is to continue building an education center through which the Native Americans of the Southwest can tell their story. Native educators regularly give presentations and lectures, native artists do demonstrations, and each year a Festival is held that features only authentic native performers and artists. The Native American Advisory Council assists with Museum planning, policy and the overall Museum mission in the community.

"We are looking at a new direction for Smoki," Hopi tribal member, Donald Nelson, says, "I see it as a beginning of perhaps some respect towards native peoples, that we ourselves are not children. It is our responsibility to preserve what we believe needs to be preserved."

The exhibition, opening in October 2005, not only serves as a historical account of a remarkable history and the perspectives on it. It is also meant to be a catalyst for more of the change our Council members speak of, for the Museum and for Prescott, and to involve the community into that process.

You are invited to witness, and be part of, this historic shift.

"We thought we were doing a good thing for the community, which we were. At one point we even thought we were preserving dances and traditions that were being lost. That became the responsibility of the Indian tribes." Perry Haddon, former Smoki dancer

"We had received a couple of letters in the office from the Snake Priests at Second Mesa asking for some kind of formal intervention from the Hopi Tribe … to have the Smoki discontinue their annual events." Rosanda Suetopka Thayer, former Special Projects Assistant to the Hopi Tribal Chairman

Quotes for Self-Determination, Termination Period panels:

"I think the Smoki People did it to make money." Nanaba Aragon, Navajo artist and educator

"I just wish there were more Indian people involved [in the Museum]. I would like to have them come over but it is the people here that have to show them that this is what we are going to do, this is what we want." Nanaba Aragon, Navajo artist and teacher

"Perhaps we are looking at a new direction for Smoki." Donald Nelson, Hopi teacher

Quotes for Costume panel:

"The last performance was kind of a disaster. We had a hard time getting people to come out to practice - the resulting performance showed it." Bob Molloy, former Smoki Dance Instructor

"We saw it as a desecration - to our religion, to our religious philosophy." Donald Nelson, Hopi educator

Quotes for the Set Construction panel:

"As far as financial impact [for the City of Prescott], we have never had a single event that has replaced Smoki." Rowle Simmons, Mayor of the City of Prescott; former Smoki dancer

"It took 400 people to put this show together. When it got down to 150 that were willing to participate, it was no longer a fun thing." Bob Molloy, former Smoki Dance Instructor

Quotes for the Smoki Women and Children panel:

"I was very, very sad … when we put the thing to bed. The day we burned the place down - the old sets and grounds - was probably one of the saddest days of my life." Bob Molloy, former Smoki Dance Instructor

"The Smoki could not have existed without the Squaws in the background doing their share." Joan Warren, former Smoki Squaw

"It was a family get-together year round… with a lot of great people." Don Ogden, former Smoki Chief

Quotes for the Smoki Ceremonials panels:

"It was not intended in any way to be a ritual. I was a ceremony only in the form of the pageantry." Perry Haddon, former Smoki dancer

"Our dances would maybe be 15 minutes long… the Indians maybe 4 - 5 days. All we would try to do was take the impression of the dance and work it up to an entertaining way so the crowd would be satisfied." Bruce Fee, former Smoki Chief

"When you don't look at other cultures as a 'thou' and you look at a culture as an 'it,' then you get this idea that you can do whatever you want with it. You can manipulate it. You can exploit it. There is a number of things you can do in the idea of saving something." Ramson Lomatewama, Hopi artist

"As the chanting went on and these Snake Priests started to dance you began to feel this … emotion … transitioning from shock … to beginning to laugh … because they were some of the worst dancers I have ever witnessed." Leigh Kuwanwisiwma, Director of Cultural Preservation Office, Hopi Tribe

"Smoki? Well, I think it is a good thing that they have stopped. I see it as a beginning of perhaps some respect towards native peoples." Donald Nelson, Hopi educator

"I look at it from this perspective… if Hopis themselves were to perform Christian rituals, dress up in priests' clothes, build a fake church and alter… how would this society react?" Donald Nelson, Hopi educator

Quotes for the "why the dancing ended" panel:

"I thought [the protest] was very successful … that really was the beginning of the end for the Smoki organization." Rosanda Suetopka Thayer, former Special Projects Assistant to the Hopi Tribal Chairman

"We could see the writing on the wall for a number of years." Perry Haddon, former Smoki dancer

"Coupled with the external pressures to change their 'Smoki ways,' was the internal occurrence of a lack of new participants." Richard Sims, Director of the Sharlot Hall Museum

"I just about tear up every time I come to the fairgrounds, because it's gone and it won't be back." Don Ogden, former Smoki Chief

"It has been a long time in coming. Mutual respect is something I believe we all have the capability to strive for, but the question is - do we have the willingness?" Ramson Lomatewama, Hopi artist

Quotes for the "In the Beginning" panel:

"Watching [the Smoki Ceremonials] was an amazing experience … you were mesmerized… the Rodeo grounds were an Indian village and you believed that." Karen DeSpain, former Daily Courier News Editor

"I really think that the large majority of the Indians were not offended by what we were trying to do. We truly intended to honor them." Perry Haddon, former Smoki dancer

"When you talk to the members of the Smoki, you really understand hat there is a great sense of pride in their efforts." Goodwin Berquist, Smoki Museum Board of Trustees

"They looked at Native American cultures as the vanishing race. And in all their sincerity, they tried to save that culture." Ramson Lomatewama, Hopi artist

"We ourselves are not children. It is our responsibility to preserve what we feel needs to be preserved." Donald Nelson, Hopi educator

"The Hopi view at least as far as this particular dance [the Smoki Snake Dance] was pretty strong … that it was an affront to Hopi people to have others try to mimic something very sacred to all of us." Leigh Kuwanwisiwma, Director of the Cultural Preservation Office, Hopi Tribe

"The Navajo and the Hopi have a very special thing they put on … they use it to dance. It is very spiritual, it is a blessing. They don't do it just to make money or show off." Nanaba Aragon, Navajo artist and educator

Rosanda Suetopka Thayer did not know much about the Smoki People. As a Hopi woman living on the Hopi Reservation, she had never witnessed the famous annual "Smoki Ceremonials." But they came firmly into focus for her when she was charged with leading a formal protest of the organization in 1990.

The Smoki Ceremonials took place in August each year at the Rodeo grounds in Prescott. They featured a group of Prescott businessmen and their families - primarily Anglo non-native participants - who dressed as Indians and performed Native American dances for large paying audiences. Their featured performance each year was the Smoki Snake Dance, an emulation of the Hopi Snake Dance.

In the mid-1980's, Suetopka Thayer served as Special Projects Assistant to the Chairman of the Hopi Tribe. "We had received a couple of letters in the office," recalls Suetopka Thayer, "from the Snake Priests at Second Mesa asking for some kind of formal intervention from the Hopi Tribe … to have the Smoki discontinue their annual events." Little did she know at the time that it would lead a series of events that would have her leading a protest on the Courthouse Plaza in Downtown Prescott just a few years later.

Another Hopi Tribal government leader was thrust into the story. As the Director of the Cultural Preservation Office of the Hopi Tribe, Leigh Kuwanwisiwma began the initial discussions with the Smoki group. When members of the Hopi Tribe met with leaders of the Smoki People organization, the Hopi asked them to end their annual dances. The Smoki responded that the Hopi should witness the dances before passing any judgment of their activities. They felt that the dances were respectful of the Hopi and other Native Americans and that the Hopi would regard them in a different light once they witnessed the Ceremonials for themselves.

Kuwanwisiwma and his group agreed to attend a show. Leading a group of several dozen Hopi men and women to Prescott, Kuwanwisiwma sat in the middle front rows amongst his people, with free tickets provided by the Smoki, at the August 1989 Smoki Ceremonials.

He tells the story as if it happened yesterday.

"As the chanting went on," Kuwanwisiwma explains about the beginning of the Smoki Snake Dance, "and these [Smoki] Snake Priests started to dance you began to feel this … emotion of the Hopi people … transitioning from shock … to beginning to laugh … because they were some of the worst dancers I have ever witnessed."

In the end, the Hopi group had been affirmed that their initial request of the Smoki was just. "The Hopi view," Kuwanwisiwma says, "at least as far as this particular dance [the Smoki Snake Dance] was pretty strong … that it was an affront to Hopi people to have others try to mimic something very sacred to all of us."

When the Hopi asked the Smoki again to stop, the Smoki replied that they would continue with their annual Ceremonial. They went back to preparing for their next show.

The Hopi then had a decision to make. It is not typical of their culture to incite public confrontations. Donald Nelson, a Hopi man who was born and raised in Prescott, giving him unique insight to this story, commented, "I had never known the Hopi Culture to actively and openly protest." In the end, however, it was decided that to make change in the world of another people, the Hopi had to play by their rules.

At that point, Suetopka Thayer was charged with leading a publicity campaign and formal protest of the Smoki Ceremonials. Press releases were sent all over the state and over 100 Hopi were organized to make the trip from the Hopi Reservation to Prescott in August 1990.

The Hopi and their supporters picketed in Downtown and at the Rodeo grounds outside the 70th Annual Smoki Ceremonial performance. They held signs that read "Preserve your own culture" and "Hopi religion not for sale." They talked peacefully with passers-by and people heading to see the show.

"And it worked," says Kuwanwisiwma, "We found out that it cost the Smoki's a bundle of money."

Indeed, that was the final performance of the Smoki Ceremonials. A press release was issued by the Smoki People announcing that the performances would no longer take place. They indicated that this decision was a response to the protests and out of respect to Indian peoples.

Suetopka Thayer felt they had accomplished what they needed to accomplish. "I thought [the protest] was very successful … that really was the beginning of the end for the Smoki organization," she said.

But that wasn't the end of the story. Long-time members of the Smoki People organization, who were not actively involved in the final year's performance and the subsequent press release issue, held that the organization did not quit as a result of the protests. In fact, one former Smoki Chief mentioned that "we didn't even notice" the protests that happened.

"It took 400 people to put this show together," says Bob Molloy, former Smoki dance instructor. "When it got down to 150 that were willing to participate, it was no longer a fun thing. The last performance was kind of a disaster. We had a hard time getting people to come out to practice - the resulting performance showed it."