Debbie and Michael Shoulder's D is for Drum: A Native American Alphabet


Some time ago, I received a box of books. Among them was D is for Drum: A Native American Alphabet. Right away I groaned. The cover shows a Pueblo Indian Buffalo Dance. Or rather, it attempts to show that dance, but gets it wrong. Any of you who've seen our Buffalo Dance will recall that the male dancers move in unison, as one. It isn't the case that one would face one direction and another would face a different way, as shown.

And, the Buffalo Dances done by the Eight Northern Indian Pueblos (there are eight Pueblos located north of Santa Fe; hence "North" as a designation. Among them is Nambe, where I am from.) typically include women dancers. There is usually a buffalo at the front, and then a woman, and then a buffalo and then a woman. Four dancers.

Toddy's illustration of each dancer is correct---as far as attire is concerned---and I really like that. And he shows the correct kind of drum and drumstick (held by the drummer). Only one drummer is a bit unusual. There are usually several.

Toddy also shows people in the background, watching the dance. That is correct, too. Our dances are not performance, they are a form of worship. Family and tribal members and tourists both watch, but for us, it is also a participation in the ceremonial dance. Tourists and non-tribal people who gather generally know NOT to clap (thank goodness!). I don't know what they feel or experience. I hope they don't use the word "primal" to describe the resonance they feel when they hear the drumbeat. I imagine they feel some of what I do when I'm in a church where a magnificent pipe organ is being played.


More on the book...

Below is a review of D is for Drum. It is Beverly Slapin's review, and may not be used without her written permission.

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Shoulders, Debbie and Michael, D is for Drum: A Native American Alphabet, illustrated by Irving Toddy (Diné). Sleeping Bear Press, 2006. Unpaginated, color illustrations, grades k-4

This title presents a mishmash of Indian cultural snippets, presented alphabetically and in rhyme, paired with side panels that purport to offer more information about each topic. Abysmally written, with trite error-laden rhymes and boring yet confusing “informational” text, the poor attempts at iambic pentameter highlight this cockamamie piece of dreck, typical of the quality of work of a press known for its picture books of made-up “Indian legends” that have become best sellers in Michigan and the Great Lakes Area.

The text veers between past and present tense, the selections are illogical and odd, and the rhymes are even odder:

Native Names are important words.

They’re given to newborns with care.

Honi means wolf, Woya means dove,

and Nita is Choctaw for bear.

Toddy’s artwork, for the most part, is better than the text. But most of the faces lack individuality and bodies are distorted, there’s an eagle feather fan lying on the ground, and the horses look like they’re starving.

Finally, it shouldn’t have to be said that there is no such thing as “a Native American alphabet.” Perceiving some 600 nations of people as one giant ethnic group is as ridiculous as, say:

O is for Original Sin: A Fundamentalist Christian Convert Alphabet

S is for Shetyl: An Eastern European Immigrant Alphabet

P is for Polyester: A Suburban Episcopalian Alphabet

—Beverly Slapin