Y-Guides, previously named Indian Princes and Princesses, is a program organized by the YMCA that aims to nurture mutual understanding, love, and respect within the father-daughter relationship. It was inspired by Native American culture and their practice of fathers raising and teaching their sons. The program began in the 1920s for fathers and sons, but incorporated father-daughter programs as the years went on.

My father and I participated for a year when I was in elementary school. He and I didn’t need this program to bond, because although he was out of the house before I woke up and returned home just in time for dinner Monday through Friday, he found many ways to bond with me on weekends. Even so, I’m happy we participated in this program together. Thinking back, it was probably my mom’s idea, considering she worked for the YMCA. And now that I’m a mom, I’m guessing her true motive was securing some alone time by getting us out of the house more often. But I digress…

When we joined the program we were told to give ourselves an Indian name. My mom used to have a red fox fur coat that I loved to pet, so I named myself Red Fox. That became funnier once I learned about the comedian Redd Foxx! My dad named himself Hollow Horn Eagle. His name had a lot more meaning as it was the name his grandfather was given from the Oglala Sioux Tribe as Honorary Chief.

The most memorable and culminating experience of the program was the camping trip at Camp Woodstock in Connecticut. We participated in relay races, egg tosses, and variety shows. My dad’s a fairly conservative guy, so I was slack-jawed when he and the other dads pulled their shirts up to cover their heads and reveal that they had painted faces on their bellies. Then they performed a bellydance by rolling them along to music so it seemed as though their bellies were singing. I still laugh knowing there is no way that was his idea, but I love that he went along with it anyway.

And as for the sixth of firsts, I caught my first fish on that trip. An 11” Rainbow Trout. I won first place for that fish, and I selected a new pole as my prize so my sister and I wouldn’t have to share anymore. My dad and I cleaned and deboned, and grilled and ate that fish together. I’ll never forget it.

These memories came rushing back about two weeks ago when my daughter caught her first fish. We were at a local farm for their fall festival, and fishing was one of the many activities we were able to participate in. She actually caught two and I caught one, but we threw them back. By her excitement and the look on her face, I’m sure she’ll always remember that moment, too, and I’m so happy I was able to share it with her.