The Tigray people of North Texas preserve culture and traditions through Ashinda, a day to honor women

As Bethlehem Hailey tries to coax a group of 30 girls into the training room, the sound of chatter is almost drowned out in her voice.

“There’s one very important rule: Little girls do exactly what older girls do,” says Haley. “When they jump, you jump. When they clap, you clap. Raise your hand if you have any questions.”

A lone hand rose into the air, but the girl quickly changed her mind, acting as if she was just trying to fix her hair.

“No?” “Okay, good,” Hayley says before playing a song on her cell phone. When the girls start dancing to the beat of the drums, she joins in and starts cheering them on. “Yes! I did well!”

It’s past 8pm inside the Garland Convention and Reception Centre, where Haile and hundreds of other Tigray residents are celebrating Ashinda. For years, Haley has taught Tigray girls in her community the meaning of ashanda and the dance that is a major part of the holiday. She remembers growing up dancing in the streets of Mekele, the capital of the Tigray region in Ethiopia. This holiday, usually celebrated with a multi-day festival in late August, recognizes women and the importance of their freedom. It is rooted in Orthodox Christianity, but the holiday is believed to date back to the Aksumite (or Axum) Empire.

“There’s a phrase we say: ‘No one judges a girl on Ashinda Day,’” Haley says.

In Tigray, Ashinda is a holiday, but this day is not known in North Texas outside the Tigray community. Hayley says it is up to people like her to pass on tradition and culture to the younger generation.

Ultimately, Ashinda’s goal is not just about recognizing women’s freedom, but also about the role women play in each other’s journey toward womanhood.

“The mother or aunt would teach the older sister, who could teach the younger girls. That’s how it was passed down from generation to generation,” says Haley.

Outside the practice room, family and friends wait for the big dance show.

Many women came wearing talfi, a white dress embroidered with colorful geometric patterns and crosses running down the middle. Traditionally, girls also wear skirts made from the long reeds of the green Ashinda grass – the source of the holiday’s name – over their dresses. Many women and girls here replace the grass with long green strings or other materials when celebrating in the United States

Part of Ashinda’s clothing is handmade jewelry, often passed down through relatives. Many pendants on rings and necklaces are circular, with multiple rows of crowns radiating from a central charm or stone.

Despite the colorful celebrations, there is an air of solemnity in the air.

Many people distribute flyers to attendees with information about the civil conflict in the Tigray region, which broke out in November 2020. People are excited to talk about how happy they are to celebrate Ashinda, but conversations often end in: “Do you know? What’s happening in Tigray?”

Often, they heard stories of how hundreds of thousands of people in Tigray starved or died because they could not access basic health care due to the blockade imposed by the Ethiopian government. Many in the community are concerned about not being able to reach their relatives in Tigray. They fear receiving a phone call about the loss of a loved one, something that has become painfully common in the small, tight-knit community.

In July, many people attending the Ashinda celebration were marching through downtown Dallas, braving the Texas summer heat to raise awareness about the situation in Tigray.

Despite a peace treaty between the Ethiopian government and the main political party representing the region, the Tigray People’s Liberation Front, many are still under repression and struggling to survive, says Salam Ayele, who helped lead the demonstrations.

For her and many others in her community, celebrating Ashinda is not a way to forget the pain and suffering of the people of Tigray, but a way to give back.

“We celebrate because we don’t want to lose our culture,” Ayel says.

Haley also says she feels a deeper calling to teach young children in her community because she feels her culture and heritage are under threat. Hailey, who has lived in North Texas for more than 20 years, says she only has sons, but she sees the girls in her community as her daughters.

I gained hope from seeing second- and third-generation Tigray children adopting a culture that may seem foreign to them. She says it’s hard not to think about the women and girls who have been victims of sexual crimes and other atrocities, but seeing young people in her community gives her the strength to celebrate.

“That’s why I’m so grateful and fascinated by these children, most of them haven’t even seen what Tigray is like,” Haley says.

When Hailey’s group finally entered the banquet hall, they were greeted with a standing ovation. Fathers carry their daughters on their shoulders, some of whom are not old enough to participate in the dance.

Two older girls with drums at their sides lead a line of girls toward the front of the banquet hall, and the younger girls follow the older girls—just as Hailey taught them. They sway from side to side while jumping to the beat of the drums while singing along to traditional Ashinda music played through the speaker system.

At the front of the banquet hall, the line turns into a large circle that pulsates with the music as the girls jump up and down and clap to the beat of the drums. One of the little girls is lifted onto a woman’s shoulders while children cheer. She waves to the crowd and continues dancing.

The girls then begin dancing around each table, cheering on the attendees who in return give them small gifts, usually in the form of money. The entire room was swept up into the performance.

Haley says it’s not exactly how they celebrate Ashinda in Tigray, but it’s what the community can manage.

Merge Yalo, a board member of the Tigray Mutual Aid Association, said he estimates there are about 1,000 people of Tigray descent in North Texas. He sees the celebration of Tigray’s culture as a challenge that reminds people of the courage of the “sisters and mothers” of Tigray.

Yaliu says Tigrayans in North Texas have reason to celebrate differently this year compared to previous years. “We have a greater responsibility to celebrate this and pass this culture on because it represents our identity and our survival as a community.”

Yalu says he feels good to see his daughters sharing and rejoicing in Tigray culture with other girls in the community. He believes Tigrayans around the world and in North Texas are still hurting, but he knows they are strong. They are here and they are going to celebrate.

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