After work the next day, I rushed home to shower and change. Standing in front of my closet, I hesitated. What exactly was the dress code for uncovering your family’s deepest, darkest secret? For that matter, what was appropriate for a powwow? It had been a decade since I’d last been to one, and my memory was hazy — drums, dancing, the smell of fry bread drifting through the air — but I couldn’t recall what anyone had worn besides regalia.
I stared at the handful of clothes I owned, none of