The scene: I’m in a nightclub in Toronto after the Skydome pow wow in 2000 or 2001. I’m hanging out, dancing badly to Destiny’s Child or some other gawd awful music with a very pretty, young First Nations chick.

Of course I’m ashamed of myself while I’m dancing. I’m ashamed because I’m dancing to “Destiny’s Child,” for goodness’ sakes – thinking of how disgusting it is that men will do darn near anything to impress women. But somehow, despite the shame and disgust, I keep dancing to this terrible music because the young lady is so cute. The only thing is; I can’t tell if she’s drunk or if it is just her accent that makes it difficult for me to understand her.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m semi-used to the Canadian dialect. Some of my best aunties and uncles are Canadians. Plus, I used to spend my summers up in Standoff, Alberta, on the Blood Reserve.

Still, it’s hard for me not to chuckle while talking and dancing with this pretty young Canadian Skin lady; the combination of Canadian lingo (“hoser!”) and her unbalanced swaying from drinking Labatt or Molson (or whatever they drink up there) was enough to keep me thoroughly entertained for the night – no snagging needed.

Or maybe that was just my excuse for not snagging.

In either event, the punch line was not the awkward way in which the young lady did her drunken Macarena and electric slide. I mean, I wasn’t drinking and I looked pretty goofy my darn self!

Instead, the punch line was that this smiling young lady – Labatt’s in one hand, beautifully beaded keychain in the other – danced in one of those Native Pride T-shirts that exposed her belly. Mind you, she kept spilling her Labatt’s Blue on her Native Pride T-shirt – yet she still kept on hollering over the loud music to convince me that she never, ever drinks alcohol. Except for now, of course.

She kept putting her finger to her lips in a “hushing” motion as if to tell me, “Shhhhhhh. … I don’t usually drink and I don’t want you to tell anybody that I drink because they cannot see me here in the middle of this club knocking down beers in succession.” Who knows; maybe nobody could see her when she drank except for me? Perhaps she was invisible. … like Old Lodge Skins.

I didn’t know why she was “hushing” me though. Maybe she thought it was sexy? Or perhaps she thought I would judge her for being sloshed. I mean, I have a pretty permissive attitude toward liquor; I honestly could care less what adults do for recreation. Personally, I always chose not to drink alcohol – but that decision was not because of my moral or religious values. I have none. Instead, I was always just too cheap and lazy to drink 40s of malt liquor – too much money that could be spent on comic books, plus I have a weak bladder.

Yet, I’d have to be a true “hoser” not to appreciate the irony of the situation: A beautiful, young Canadian Skin lady who keeps going on and on about her traditional values, her traditional family, and how she paints with all of the colors of the wind. She teased me playfully about my urban accent and my metrosexual clothing (fair criticisms, by the way) and how untraditional I am. Meanwhile, she’s spilled enough Canadian hooch on her Native Pride belly shirt to pickle Teddy Kennedy.

At least I thought it was hilarious.

But the whole situation begged the question – is there a purpose to those Native Pride shirts/hats/jackets/thongs/girdles?

I don’t know.

No question, they’re cool shirts. I definitely appreciate the idea and the fashion. Being a Skin is “cool.” I can dig it. I plan to buy my son one.

Still, this is the way that I’ve thought of it: I’ve never heard of powerful Skin leaders like Tasunke Witko, Quanah Parker, Pope’, or THE Ward Churchill (ha, ha! I joke!) wearing Native Pride gear. I’ve never even heard or read about them doing things on behalf of “Native Pride.” Heck, I’ve never even read where they mentioned “Native Pride.” But no one doubts that they absolutely loved Skins. Despite not having any Native Pride gear, they did amazing things for Skins. My guess is that they didn’t need shirts or stickers or whatever they had in those days to tell them to take pride in themselves; it’s just what they did.

Who knows, maybe they would have worn these fashions if they were alive today. After all, some of the shirts are hot!

And see, that’s the crazy thing – I think that a lot of people wear Native Pride just because they’re nice and fashionable shirts without thinking about the statements they make. Sort of like when people wear the Che shirts.

For example, when I see a bunch of Skins together Native Prided-out, I get caught up in the pride thing too! I want to put my right fist up and stick it to the man! I mean, when I see Native Pride clothes, Native Pride tattoos, and hear Native Pride thrown around in speeches, I get fired up and expect to see the evidence of Native Pride!!

I expect to see healthy families, fathers taking care of their children, sobriety, et cetera!

But then reality hits. And I don’t see what they’re seeing. I don’t see Skins living the proud lifestyle their shirts and bumper stickers and hats indicate. And maybe I’m just missing something – maybe the definition of pride has changed over the years. Maybe I missed the part where Native Pride became just a cool fashion statement and speech technique.

See, I was taught, rightly or wrongly, that actions speak louder than words; perhaps I was taught wrong. Maybe the way that we show Native Pride nowadays is by wearing shirts and hats.

For some odd reason, I thought Native Pride might cause Skins to actually do stuff to help Skins. I mean, that’s what all those Skin leaders did, right? Tasunke Witko. Quanah Parker. Pope’. THE Ward Churchill (Ha ha ha! Ok, I can’t even say that with a straight face). Those people helped Skins. Native Pride made them do it. Their actions spoke louder than their words, hats or shirts.

If they were alive today, I think some of the things that might happen as a result of their Native Pride are physical exercise to prevent diabetes and obesity within the Native bodies that we say we are proud of; sobriety/moderation of alcohol habits to prevent FAS, abuse, broken families and drunkenness; increased safety with things like wearing a seat belt to prevent some of the many automobile-related deaths of Skins; ending violence against Skin women; possibly considering a Skin mate; or taking care of their children and protecting the Native family.

But if they did those things it would only be because they didn’t know that Native Pride is only a fashion statement nowadays.

What do you Skins think?

Gyasi Ross is a member of the Blackfeet Nation and his family also comes from the Suquamish Tribe. He is a lawyer, a warrior, a teacher, an entrepreneur and an author. He is co-founder of Native Speaks LLC, a progressive company owned by young Native professionals which provides consultation and instruction for professionals and companies, as well as young adults. Gyasi is currently booking dates for his presentation, “The Best: An Indian Theory of Existence.” E-mail him at gyasi.ross@gmail.com.