For more than four decades, the Gathering of Nations powwow in Albuquerque, New Mexico, has drawn tens of thousands of people each year, offering a vibrant display of Indigenous culture through dance, music, and artistry. But in a surprise announcement made on August 16, 2025, organizers revealed that the 2026 event will be the last, marking the end of an era for what is widely regarded as North America’s largest powwow.
In a statement shared via email and social media, Gathering of Nations Ltd. wrote simply, “There comes a time,” signaling the conclusion of a tradition that has spanned 43 years. The official poster for the 2026 event features the poignant phrase “The Last Dance,” encapsulating the bittersweet sentiment felt by many in the community. Attempts to reach organizers for further comment were unsuccessful, leaving attendees and fans with more questions than answers about why the decision was made now.
Since 2017, the New Mexico fairgrounds have served as the event’s home, but the future of the venue is uncertain. According to the Associated Press, the state is considering redeveloping the site, which could have influenced the powwow’s fate. While the specifics remain unclear, the announcement has sparked a wave of reflection and nostalgia among those who have attended or participated over the years.
The Gathering of Nations is renowned for its signature grand entry, where a colorful procession of dancers spirals into the arena, each adorned in elaborate regalia. Some outfits are festooned with jingling bells, others with vibrant feathers, and all move in time to the powerful rhythms of traditional drumming. The spectacle is both a celebration and a preservation of centuries-old customs, and for many, it’s a rare chance to witness such a convergence of Indigenous cultures from across the continent and beyond.
But the event has not been without controversy. Over the years, some Native American voices have criticized the commercialization of the powwow, arguing that organizers are capitalizing on Indigenous culture. Gathering of Nations Ltd. has consistently dismissed these claims, stating that the funds raised go directly toward covering the expenses of putting on such a large-scale event. In recent years, the powwow has offered prize money for dancing and drumming competitions, further fueling discussions about the balance between tradition and modernity.
For some tribal leaders and cultural advocates, there is an ongoing struggle to ensure that traditional practices aren’t conflated with commercialized powwows. As a result, efforts have grown to promote smaller, community-based powwows that focus on local traditions and spiritual significance, rather than spectacle and competition. Still, the Gathering of Nations has played a crucial role in bringing Indigenous cultures into the public eye and fostering a sense of unity among participants.
Beyond the grand entry, the event also features the crowning of Miss Indian World—a coveted title that celebrates cultural knowledge and leadership—as well as horse parades where riders are judged on the craftsmanship of their intricately beaded adornments and feathered headdresses, as well as their harmony with their steeds. These competitions, while festive, are deeply rooted in tradition and honor the skills passed down through generations.
Meanwhile, across the continent on Panmure Island in Prince Edward Island, another powwow faced its own set of challenges this year. The sacred fire ceremony and sweat lodge ceremony, both central to the event’s spiritual core, were cancelled in 2025 due to a provincial fire ban. The ban was put in place after a long stretch of summer heat, a situation that Bradley Cooper, political adviser for the P.E.I. Native Council, linked to growing concerns about climate change.
“Unfortunately, because of the long summer heat that we’ve been having, we are a little upset that we can’t necessarily have a sacred fire,” Cooper told CBC News. “It’s a big part of our ceremonies, as well as the sweat lodge ceremony that involves lighting a fire to burn our rocks.” Despite the disappointment, Cooper emphasized that respecting nature is a core Indigenous value. “We decided, even though it was difficult, that we won’t let something like a lack of a sacred fire stop us from celebrating our culture.”
Even with these setbacks, the Panmure Island powwow pressed on, drawing more than 100 attendees. The event featured a variety of activities, including a hand-drumming competition, bingo, traditional drumming, singing, and dancing. One participant, Mary Jane Bernard from Abegweit First Nation, captured the spirit of resilience and joy that permeated the gathering. “I feel like that I’m dancing for [the] Creator and it just brings a lot of joy … so that’s why I like dancing,” she said. Bernard also noted how heartening it was to see so many young people participating, keeping the culture alive and thriving.
The powwow concluded with a lobster supper scheduled for Sunday, August 17, 2025—a nod to local traditions and a communal way to bring people together, even in the face of adversity. The event’s ability to adapt, despite the absence of sacred fire and sweat lodge ceremonies, underscored the community’s commitment to honoring their heritage while respecting the environment.
Both the Gathering of Nations and the Panmure Island powwows illustrate the evolving landscape of Indigenous cultural events in North America. While each faces unique challenges—be it venue uncertainty, commercialization, or climate-induced restrictions—the underlying purpose remains the same: to celebrate, preserve, and share Indigenous traditions with the wider world.
As the Gathering of Nations prepares for its final bow in 2026, many are left to ponder what the future holds for large-scale Indigenous gatherings. Will smaller, community-based powwows take on greater significance? Can the delicate balance between tradition and modernity be maintained in an era of rapid change?
Whatever the answers, one thing is certain: the spirit of Indigenous celebration endures, adapting to new realities while remaining deeply rooted in the values and customs that have shaped generations. For now, the last dance approaches in Albuquerque, and communities across North America continue to find ways—big and small—to honor their past and celebrate their present.
