NEW YORK — The downpour starts early on Thanksgiving morning in Manhattan. Equipped with ponchos and umbrellas, people flock to the streets before dawn to get a good spot for the city’s coveted parade. Balloons and floats prepare on West 77th Street. Kenneth Shirley waits eagerly among them to greet the crowds.

Shirley had spent the past week in Newark practicing tirelessly with his dance troupe.They had been given an opportunity of a lifetime, a chance to perform in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade and a 60-second window on national television to show millions who they are and their ancestral roots.

He is CEO and founder of Indigenous Enterprise, a dance troupe that promotes and advances Indigenous culture through the power of powwow song and dance. “I just wanted to bring some positive Indigenous representation to the mainstream audience,” Shirley says.

Almost immediately, the day does not go as planned. What was a bright and sunny week has turned into a cloudy and wet morning. The dancers are adorned in feathers and beaded fabrics, and the constant rain could ruin their traditional garments for good. The group is panicked and morale is low as the parade commences. As they march past Central Park, Shirley remains optimistic and keeps his signature smile on his face. The show must go on.

As the parade starts, the group has to improvise quickly to protect their regalia. They wheel their suitcases through the streets and try to remain as dry as possible.

Onlookers cheer and wave as the group walks through downtown Manhattan, trailing the Sesame Street float. Shirley greets them with the same cheer and joy. One group is particularly excited to see Shirley and the dance troupe.

Amber Kinney and Cyndie Summers are from the Paiute Tribe in Bishop, California. They came to Manhattan to celebrate Thanksgiving at the parade and were thrilled to see the Indigenous representation. “It’s a wonderful day to see our people out here,” Summers says. Kinney says Shirley and the group are “representing in a good way.”

As they inch closer to the front of the iconic Macy’s department store for their televised performance, Shirley and other dancers have to scramble to get ready. “You’ll have to go on without them!” coordinators yell as the remaining dancers rush to fasten their bells and applique-designed aprons. A 45-second commercial break gives the group just enough time to get into position.

The sounds of Northern Cree, a Canadian powwow-style drum group, begin to pour through 34th Street, and now it’s their time. The group glides and stomps through puddles as they match the energetic pace of the drumbeat. Their dancing looks laborious, but to them this is second nature. Shirley is Diné, or Navajo, but his dancers come from different tribal nations and vary in dance category. Each dancer demonstrates their unique style both in sync and in moments of controlled chaos. More than 30 million people around the world watch as they showcase Indigenous powwow dancing.

“We really locked in and didn’t let the weather dictate us doing a bad job,” Shirley says. “I got so many messages from all over the country about how they heard drumming, and they ran from the kitchen to the living room to watch us. And it just brought them so much joy and it brought tears to their eyes. … Our dancing is like healing, and it’s meant to be able to make people feel good, and I think we accomplished that.”

The song ends and the local crowd roars with applause. The atmosphere is celebratory. The group hurries off as they begin to digest the magnitude of what they’ve just done. The Macy’s parade is a beloved American tradition, and they’ve just cemented themselves as part of that history.

“It felt really, really good to see the response from all these people from all over the world just showing love,” Shirley says. “My concern was us killing it, and we did.”

This mindset is how he got to where he is today. A determined spirit and infectious energy: these are the traits that define Kenneth Shirley.

Shirley, now 29, spent his adolescence on the Navajo Nation near Lupton, Arizona – a far cry from New York. “There were no cellphones, it was just straight wilderness. I grew up around all my cousins, so we grew up playing a lot,” Shirley said. “It was awesome, I loved it.”

In first grade, he and his family moved to Phoenix. It was a big culture shock. He had never interacted with non-Indigenous kids before, and making a connection was difficult at first.

“I grew up just thinking the world was Navajo, and then when I came out here, I got my whole world opened up. And it was really awesome. I think I needed that,” Shirley said.

As he became accustomed to city life, he started to develop several interests – film, skateboarding, video games – but none compared to his passion for dancing.

He was 2 years old when he was introduced to the powwow circle by his mother. This event holds significance to those who participate. It marks the beginning of someone’s journey as both a dancer and a person. Usually accompanied by family members and mentors, a person’s induction to the powwow circle can be seen as joining a community for life.

A powwow is a gathering of Indigenous people that celebrates their culture through song, dance, food and art. The term “powwow” derives from an Algonquian word “pau wau” or “pauau,” meaning “gathering of people.” The powwow circle is open to all Indigenous people, though it is not traditional to every tribe. They are often referred to as celebrations because they commemorate the perseverance and preservation of Indigenous culture.

Powwows feature dances from different tribal nations across North America, and music from groups of singers as they keep a steady rhythm on their drums. Each dance has its own ceremonial, traditional and regional origins, but all have evolved into contemporary and modern styles. Despite the variations and differences, many dance and song styles are brought together by the powwow circle.

Shirley’s style of dance is the men’s fancy war dance, an energetic, fast-paced style that has its origins with the Ponca Tribe in Oklahoma. It is a modern take on a ceremonial dance, and its evolution has turned it into a spectacle.

Men’s fancy war dancers fasten two feathered bustles on their backs, hold dance sticks with vibrant flagging tape and dance with an energy comparable to a tornado. The drumbeat increases in pace as the dancers spin and jump across the arena, until finally the song ends and the dancers hold their photo-finish poses. It’s a showman’s dance and is a crowd favorite among powwow-goers. “Showstoppers” is the phrase commonly used to describe this style.

As a child, Shirley spent hours in his living room obsessively studying VHS tapes of powwow dancers. He watched his idols Daryl Jack, Spike Draper and Jon “Poncho” Brady, names of legend among men’s fancy war dancers. As Shirley’s love for dancing grew, he began to feel like he was living in two worlds, with a different version of himself in each. There was Kenneth the outgoing student in Phoenix, and Kenneth in the powwow circle.

For some, powwows are a lifestyle. The events are held almost entirely year-round, and every weekend Shirley and his family would travel out of town to hit the “powwow trail.” It served as an escape from real life, and it is there where Shirley began to make his lifelong connections.

“I would see all my different friends from all over the country coming in, and those were the days where we would just hang out all weekend,” Shirley said. “You would just be able to really make good friendships that I still have to this day. … And that would not have happened if I didn’t go crazy obsessive with fancy dancing because it just made me connect to my Native culture more.”

Growing up in the city, it can be difficult for an Indigenous person to feel connected to their roots. For Shirley, powwows strengthened that connection and served as an outlet for the struggles of everyday life. “I feel like growing up in the city sometimes that gets lost. You just don’t really feel like your Native American side is really shining. But whenever I would go out and powwow, I’d be like, ‘Oh, man, it’s nice to see all these Natives, people my age, wanting to continue the culture,’” Shirley said.

Along the powwow trail is where he met two close friends and members of Indigenous Enterprise, Dominic Pablo and Jamaal-Isaac Jones.

“He’s always been a ball of energy,” Pablo said. “He was just everywhere, making friends with anybody and everybody.”

Shirley exuded a friendly personality and easily made connections with many of his powwow peers. “He was just this kid that would go around introducing himself as Kenny Tom,” Jones said.

Powwows bring together people from similar but different backgrounds. They allow some to make connections that they otherwise would not have. The community is based on tradition and friendship, and without these, this way of life may have been lost forever.

In modern times, a competition aspect has been introduced to powwows. Dancers face off against each other in their respective categories, showcasing their own unique styles. No two dance the same, as every dancer is able to put their own personality and spirit into how they dance. It’s this kind of personal connection to dancing that brings many a harmonious feeling.

For Shirley, it’s almost as if he’s able to disconnect from reality for a short time.“It really kind of makes me feel at peace because I know for those three minutes, I’m not thinking about anything else. I’m not thinking about my problems. I’m not thinking about anything that’s bothering me. Those three minutes, I’m just locked into the song,” Shirley said.

For many, dancing is an outlet from the stressors of life and brings people back down to earth.

“It’s basically my tool as far as getting through life experiences,” Jones said. “If I weren’t dancing, I don’t know what I’d be doing.”

A sense of direction. A feeling of pride. Healing. These are the feelings and emotions that powwow dancing evokes. Some refer to it as “medicine.”

For those who participate, powwow dancing is to be respected and revered, and with that comes generational teachings from those who came before.

Pablo is a fellow fancy war dancer and was raised with these teachings. “There’s always older people who say, ‘Dancing will take you far. Take care of your regalia. Make sure to dance for people who can’t. It’ll bless you more than you know it,’ and so far, it’s come true.”

It was after high school graduation in 2015 when a close friend of Shirley’s contacted him about an exciting opportunity. David “Davey” Madera, was leaving the ”Spirit of the Mist” Native American dance show in Niagara Falls, New York, and they needed a replacement dancer. Shirley jumped at the opportunity, and for two months, he stayed in a hotel room and performed every single day for tourists.

It was here that the idea for Indigenous Enterprise emerged.

“I was talking to my friend, and we’re like, ‘We were barely making a little piece. How much do you think the owners of this were making? They’re probably making so much money off of us,’” Shirley said. “That was kind of like the little brainchild of me and him. ‘What about if we started our own thing?’”

He was beginning to see the allure of powwow dancing from a different perspective. After his stint in New York, Shirley would return home and begin attending Chandler-Gilbert Community College. It was November, Native American Heritage Month, and Shirley noticed there were no on-campus events or activities planned. Angered by this, Shirley volunteered to put on a dance performance for the school and rounded up some of his closest powwow friends to perform on campus. After their performance, Shirley received their first paycheck, something he had not anticipated.

It was during this time that Shirley also began to pursue his other passions. “I’ve always been into film. I love movies. I had a Harkins Theatre growing up across the street from my house over at the mall, so I would just go to the movies all the time,” Shirley said. “It was always filmmaking and fancy dancing.”

As Shirley navigated student life, he began to seek out more opportunities to perform. He was simultaneously pursuing his degree in filmmaking at Arizona State University, where he would later graduate in 2018. While in school, Shirley and different dancers began to perform at colleges in the Phoenix area. The crowds loved them, and Indigenous Enterprise took off.

At first it wasn’t easy. Shirley had no idea the intricacies of being his own boss. “I didn’t know what an invoice was, I didn’t know what taxes were, I didn’t know a lot of the business side of things. I just knew how to dance,” Shirley said.

Their first two years were disorganized. Shirley owed too much money, and it looked like Indigenous Enterprise had no way out. The father of a close friend of Shirley’s offered to pay off their tax debt and saved the company from going under.

“That’s something I learned the hard way: keeping your finances and everything super organized,” Shirley said. “Because it was just me and my friends, and we were in college, so we were young and stupid trying to have a company. And so the hardest part for me was learning how to be a businessman because I think when you’re getting out there, you kind of just have to figure it out.”

Shirley had routinely made an effort to put the company out on social media, posting videos of their performances on different platforms. This is what led to their next big break.

In 2017, Taboo of the Black Eyed Peas was working on the music video for his solo project “Stand Up / Stand N Rock.” He reached out to Shirley through Instagram after seeing a video of one of the group’s performances at a college. Indigenous Enterprise would appear in his MTV Award-winning music video, and from then on, opportunities continued to present themselves.

“I have this ability to make friends with everybody,” Shirley said, noting that through his outgoing personality and easygoing demeanor, he’s been able to make many high-profile connections and friendships. “I love people. I love human beings so much.”

The dancers began to perform in front of larger crowds, in bigger venues, in farther places. As they grew, so did their status, and eventually the group was performing at some of the most high-profile venues and events in the world.

The Sydney Opera House in Australia, the Lincoln Center in New York, the NBA Finals and the Super Bowl – all achieved through their gift of dance. They were entering spaces where Indigenous people weren’t usually invited, and sharing powwow dancing with people and places for the first time.

Indigenous Enterprise was beginning to make a real name for themselves. Shirley had made many connections on this journey, but one collaboration he holds dearly is with Born X Raised, a Los Angeles-based streetwear brand that serves to preserve the city’s heritage and culture. It was founded by Chris “Spanto” Printup, who comes from Seneca and White Mountain Apache descent.

Printup met Shirley during his performance in 2018 at LA’s Inaugural Indigenous Peoples Day celebration. Printup appreciated what Indigenous Enterprise was doing. During their first interactions, Shirley said Printup conveyed to him, “I love what you guys are doing, I love that your guys’ crew is representing our people.” The two hit it off immediately, and Shirley began to look up to Printup.

“His friendship meant everything because he was a Native American dude collaborating with the Lakers and Dodgers,” Shirley said. “That was just mind-blowing to me to see a White Mountain Apache dude networking and operating on that level.”

Printup brought Indigenous Enterprise on for promotional photoshoots and eventually their own collaboration, and this elevated the group to another stratosphere. Printup opened the door for the group and through their relationship, Shirley met many media industry insiders.

Atiba Jefferson grew up in Manitou Springs, Colorado, and is part Seneca. He was frequently exposed to Indigenous culture through powwows in his hometown every summer. Today, he is a prominent photographer in the skateboarding industry and works with clients, including the NBA and Nike, among others.

Printup had contacted Jefferson about the collaboration with Indigenous Enterprise and invited him to photograph the group because Shirley and other members have a love for skating.

“I specifically noticed Kenneth’s motivation,” said Jefferson. “When I met Kenneth, I actually felt like I met a new brother, a ‘little bro.’”

Jefferson and Shirley would go on to develop a strong bond. Jefferson shared the same conviction that people of different backgrounds should be showcased in pop culture and had noticed the growing popularity of Indigenous media.

“I think it’s great that we’re seeing that advancement, and that is because of people like Kenny not giving up and working their asses off. They’re still two steps back from everybody else, but he’s willing to do the work, to really push through and make the connections. … He’s got such an infectious energy that you can’t not want to work with this dude.”

During the Born X Raised photoshoot, Jefferson tried to capture the essence and spirit of Indigenous Enterprise as they danced in different iconic locations in the Los Angeles area.

“It’s one of the most magical things to ever witness. When you see the dancers, and the regalia, and you hear the sounds of the jingle dresses, it’s super, super special,” said Jefferson. “I feel very lucky to be able to be in that circle. … The opportunities I get to photograph them are some of my favorite photos I’ve ever shot.”

Brought closer by a mutual friend, Shirley was able to make a lasting connection with an industry titan. It’s how Printup helped Indigenous Enterprise the most – putting them on a path to be able to make their own way.

“Spanto kind of took us to a global level,” Shirley said.

On June 25, 2023, Printup died in a car accident at age 42. The news was devastating for the Indigenous community. For Shirley and the group, Printup was a mentor and “big bro” for them. Printup was everything Shirley aspired to be – an Indigenous person breaking barriers and making his way in a world where Indigenous people aren’t always recognized.

“He really helped me get into contact with some of my bestest friends. And it just so happens that my bestest friends are at the top of what they do in the industry. That would have not happened if it wasn’t for Spanto,” said Shirley.

Shirley and Indigenous Enterprise continued to work with Born X Raised after Printup’s passing. For Born X Raised, it was imperative that they honor Printup’s legacy by continuing to broadcast his Indigenous heritage. For this year’s Indigenous Peoples Day, Born X Raised and Shirley collaborated on a line of garments paying tribute to the holiday.

“We are the grandchildren of the ancestors they couldn’t kill” is a mantra that encapsulates what Indigenous Peoples Day means for many. The phrase is displayed on multiple garments in the collection, along with the Indigenous Enterprise logo.

Shirley knew it was important to continue to advance Printup’s legacy by championing Indigenous culture – a devotion he and Printup shared.

“I just felt like that brand means something to Native Americans, and I didn’t want that to go away. I didn’t want that to die,” Shirley said. “So I stepped up and was able to round up some champion dancers to come on, and we did the collab, and it went super amazing. I could tell he was smiling. I know he was looking down.”

Shirley said Printup’s passing showed him how precious and short life is. Madera, who brought Shirley onto the Niagara Falls dance show and a collaborator in the fruition of Indigenous Enterprise, had died unexpectedly in 2020.

Shirley had lost the two most influential people in his journey as an entrepreneur – two close friends who impacted and changed his future, who shared the same desire to bring inclusion and Indigenous representation to the mainstream.

“We want to represent and uplift Native American culture where it’s not being seen,” said Shirley. “And that same message is still the same today, to where now it’s taking us global.”

The global audience for Indigenous culture has grown in recent times. Today, there are Indigenous-led movies and TV shows in mainstream media. Indigenous artists, actors and musicians are gaining ground in their professions. Some have called it a Renaissance, and Indigenous Enterprise is at the forefront.

“More Native people are getting recognized for things, and it’s really cool,” Pablo said. “ I like this era that we’re in, being more recognized. That’s kind of all we want, we want to be known.”

Shirley didn’t start Indigenous Enterprise for fame or fortune. From the bottom of his heart, he truly believes that Indigenous representation is important, he said. Through his gifts, he’s been able to advance this idea into the mainstream – and hopes to inspire future generations to come.

“That makes me smile because now younger people can see that it’s possible to do that outside of powwows and stuff.” Shirley’s message to aspiring Indigenous entrepreneurs: “You guys can take your culture and do something global with it.”

This message and their gift of dance is what brought Indigenous Enterprise to Manhattan. For them, the opportunity to represent Indigenous culture to a global audience is one they could not pass on.

Like many in the group, sisters Shaina Snyder and Shelby Snyder met Shirley along the powwow trail and became fast friends. Shirley brought both sisters on for different projects throughout the years, and they were proud to join for the Thanksgiving parade. They share Shirley’s values: representation is everything.

“I think no matter what space it is in,” said Shelby Snyder, “whether it’s in the entertainment industry, whether it’s in health care, whether it’s in a service industry, I think any type of representation and seeing Indigenous people thriving in those settings and being able to take up space in those settings where we haven’t been able to historically, is really impactful and really powerful.”

Shaina Snyder said she knows Shirley has wanted this global recognition and planned for it for a long time. “He wanted to be a catalyst for Indigenous representation through media and pop culture, he really wanted to grow that, and that’s how Indigenous Enterprise was formed.”

Though many celebrate Thanksgiving, and the Macy’s parade is iconic in American culture, the holiday itself is rooted in fictitious history. For some, Thanksgiving is a harsh reminder of Indigenous precolonial contact with European settlers and the centuries of oppression that would follow. The story of a friendly Thanksgiving lacks the historical context of short-lived peace between the English settlers and the Wamponoag. Across Indian Country, it is a day of grief, and Shirley understands those who have the perspective of not wanting to celebrate the day.

“They have the right to feel that type of way,” Shirley said. “The options are: just get brushed under the rug yet again, and there’s no representation, and they completely don’t acknowledge us. Or we come in and kill it (at the parade), and we do our thing and then bring positivity to so many households. … Our hearts were in the right place.”

Moments before the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade commenced, Jimmy Fallon was seen passing by on his way to deliver a TV segment about his holiday album. People screamed and cheered as Fallon waved to the waiting crowds, but Shirley saw it as another opportunity. Never failing to seize the moment, Shirley followed Fallon for the chance to be seen on TV.

Taking some dancers with him, Shirley stood in the background of Fallon’s segment. The group danced in jovial fashion with Shirley sporting his Indigenous Enterprise hoodie. With his signature smile on his face, he knows millions are tuned in. Though the odds are unlikely, maybe someone there watching will see them. For Shirley, this is everything. A chance to be seen, visible, recognized – this is why Indigenous Enterprise exists. It’s what makes Shirley keep pushing forward.

“We just want people to know we’re still here, and we’re never going to go away.”