MASHPEE — Under the shade of canopy tents squeezed side-by-side on the grass, parents braided their children’s hair and dancers tied the last knots on their traditional regalia before the kickoff dance of the 104th Mashpee Wampanoag Powwow on Saturday.
More than a thousand spectators watched the Grand Entry: Dancers entered the roped-off arena as drum groups beat a steady rhythm and sang from a shaded pavilion beyond.
“We dance for our ancestors, we dance for those who can no longer dance,” emcee David Pocknett Jr. told the crowd.
The powwow is an annual three-day celebration, where Native American dancers, drummers, artists, and food vendors from around the Northeast convene in Mashpee, home of the Mashpee Wampanoag Tribe.
“Our culture is rooted in kindness and hospitality — values that helped early English settlers find success here and still guide how we welcome others today," the powwow program read.
The Mashpee is one of two federally recognized tribes in Massachusetts and one of three remaining tribes of the Wampanoag Nation that still live on their ancestral land, according to the program.
The Mashpee have lived on areas of Cape Cod and in eastern Rhode Island for thousands of years. Starting in the 17th century, they were targeted for conversion to Christianity by English colonists, which sparked a centuries-long effort to maintain the tribe’s cultural identity and sovereignty, according to the program and the University of Massachusetts Amherst Native American Trails Project.
In 2015, the federal government granted the Mashpee Wampanoag full tribal sovereignty over 320 acres of land in Mashpee and Taunton, the tribe’s website said. Approximately 3,200 people are enrolled tribal citizens, many of whom performed at this weekend’s Powwow.
Robert DeGaetano, 23, has danced for his Mashpee relatives since he was a toddler holding his parents’ hands in the arena. He said he never practices for the performance, just lets the drum beat carry him across the grass.
“It’s kind of like freedom,” DeGaetano, a professional boxer and artist, said. “It’s just being able to express yourself and show your culture, and you’re walking in the footsteps of your ancestors.”
Dawn Falling Star Hendricks, a Blackfoot and Mashpee Wampanoag native, greeted old friends as she walked out of the dance arena on Saturday — the same place where she was crowned Powwow Princess in 1976 and again in 1977. She went on to become an advocate for the Mashpee Wampanoag, campaigning for her tribe at the White House during President Bill Clinton’s administration.
“We deserve more respect, and I’ve been fighting for that for the longest time,” Hendricks said. “But we haven’t lost ourselves during the fight for recognition.”
Now 65, the Mashpee Wampanoag healer considers the annual gathering proof of the tribe’s cultural autonomy, even as this year’s event coincided with Independence Day celebrations around Cape Cod.
For DeGaetano and many others in his tribe, Independence Day stands in opposition to their Mashpee Wampanoag identity.
“I don’t celebrate the Fourth of July,” he said. “None of us really do.”
In some ways, the Mashpee Wampanoag Tribe is still recovering from colonization. It is slowly regaining access to some ancestral lands through trusts or private donations to the Native Land Conservancy, including a recent 5.1-acre donation from the estate of a Mashpee Wampanoag woman.
The tribe has also embarked on a mission to revive the Wampanoag language, which had not been spoken since the middle of the nineteenth century. In the 1990s, Mashpee linguist Jessie Little Doe Baird reconstructed the language using extensive records written in Wampanoag, including the first Bible printed in British North America.
“The language was always there, but no one spoke it. There was no way to learn it,” said Eva Blake, a Wampanoag language instructor.
She now helps teach it to other tribal citizens at immersion camps and classes run by the Wôpanâak Language Reclamation Project. Wampanoag speakers also run a Montessori school where elementary-aged children learn the basics.
“The most important thing is to keep it alive for generations and it not just be a flash in the pan,” Blake added.
On Saturday, the powwow was one more example of keeping traditions alive.
Nakeesha Brown, a 37-year-old hospital coordinator from Rhode Island, watched the dances with her three children, father, sister, and her sister’s family. She has attended the powwow since she was a baby, a tradition she is upholding for her kids.
“Generation from generation, we’ve continued with our traditions, our culture, and I just want to make sure that my kids have that instilled in them, as well,” Brown said.
Lance A. Gumbs, the vice chairman of the Shinnecock Nation on Long Island and part of the Youngblood Singers drum circle, said Saturday that summer powwows are a way for tribes on the East Coast to come together around their shared past.
“The historic trauma still exists,” Gumbs said. “We still have our traditions, our cultures, our songs, our dances. And this is the way for us to continue to pass that down through the generations.”
Jade Lozada can be reached at jade.lozada@globe.com.