Notes about proposed Netflix show, Little House on the Prairie

Some time back I read that Netflix was going to do a reboot of Little House on the Prairie. I groaned. I'm going to use this page to keep track of what I see. 

April 10, 2025:

Most recently I saw this casting call: 

It tells us there's a character named Good Eagle. His mom is named White Sun. She is apparently a citizen of the Osage Nation. His dad is named Mitchell. Mitchell is white and Osage, and he's also a citizen of the Osage Nation. He went to the "Osage Mission" when he was a child. He loves books and speaks English. He built "the most impressive homestead" in a county in Kansas. He wants peace with the settlers. His wife, White Sun, is "more cynical about the white settlers" than her husband is. 

My thoughts: Do they have an Osage consultant working with them? Who chose "Good Eagle" and "White Sun" for those two characters? "Good Eagle" in particular strikes me as odd. Does it suggest there could be a family somewhere that would name their child "Bad Eagle"? Maybe I'm being unnecessarily snarky there, but that's what I feel towards the Little House everythings (books, merchandise, television show...).  As for Mitchell, I guess that's the name he got at the mission school and that's what he's going by now as a successful farmer. That's all from me, for now. 

 

Highly Recommended: WE WEAVE by Daniel W. Vandever and Deonoveigh Mitchell

We Weave

Written by Daniel W. Vandever (Diné)

Illustrated by Deonoveigh Mitchell (Diné)

Published in 2024

Publisher: South of Sunrise Creative

Reviewer: Debbie Reese

Review Status: Highly Recommended

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Why am I so pleased with this book? It hits all the key points in books I recommend:

• Native author
• Native illustrator
• Set in present day
• Tribally specific content
• Includes Native language(s)

But there's more to say! As I write, it is baseball season so I'll use a baseball phrase: It's a home run! We Weave is a home run. Vandever and Mitchell hit a homer! 

Earlier today a friend was telling me about the Native information her child is getting in school. It sounds like the school they go to is not hesitating to teach middle school children about boarding schools. That's a topic that we ought to see in all educational materials about Native people. I wonder, though, if my friend's school is also making sure children learn that we're still here and that we use technology much like the devices they themselves use? A cell phone features prominently in We Weave. I also recommend you read Laurel Goodluck's picture book, Forever Cousins. In it, two cousins use their phones to stay in touch.

We Weave is one of many picture books that can help with that teaching. (Note here that I encourage everyone to read picture books by Native writers and illustrators, no matter how old you or your child are! Mostly likely, none of the content you received in school depicted us as people of the past and fails to show us as people of the present day who know who we are as citizens or tribal members of our specific, unique nations.)

Let's start by looking at the cover. That's a grandmother sitting at a loom. She's gazing at a child who is holding a phone. See the emoji's above the phone? Nice touch! Those are first impressions but look closer. See the child's hairstyle? And moccasins, and the loom the grandmother is weaving on? These are most definitely specific to the Diné people. 

As you open the book you see the dedication page that says, in part, "be proud of who you are, where you're from, and where you're going." Many parents say that to their children but that dedication includes words in Diné. Beneath the dedication are three terms you'll see as you read the book. Masaní (Grandmother), Shiyázhí (My Little One), and Dzil Yáázh (Little Mountain). 

The story begins with Masaní reading a letter that says school is going virtual. How many of you got letters like that when the pandemic took over? Shiyázhí replies that he doesn't have a computer. All he has is a phone. He's sitting on the couch. Above/behind him are photographs on the wall of someone who was (or is) in the service. In Native homes across the country you'll find framed photos like those. Native people serve in the US armed service at a high rate. Including those photos behind Shiyázhí is an especially nice touch that reflects reality. 

His grandmother replies "We weave to get what we need" and that kicks off the story Vandever and Mitchell give us. Masaní describes all the steps she goes through to weave. She intends to sell the rug to get enough money to buy a computer. Shiyázhí uses his phone to document what they do. 

The grandmother is weaving a rug, and her grandson is weaving a story!

As they near the first day of school, she's disappointed. She hasn't finished in time to actually sell the rug herself and thinks they can't buy a computer, but her grandson has used his weaving to sell her rug. His weaving is videos of all she did to make the rug--and his weaving went viral. Together they have worked to get the computer. Together, they've been weaving. Hence, the 'we' in We Weave. 

I really like this book! It was on AICL's 2024 year-end list but I ran out of time to post a review in 2024. As always, I recommend you flip to the Author's Note to learn from Vandever. He tells us things most textbooks do not. And he provides a "Caution with Technology" note, too. As more children use phones, the adults in their lives can clamp down in punitive ways, and/or they can teach them about online safety. I'm glad to see Vandever's note. 

Get a copy of We Weave and ask for it at your library!  

Highly Recommended: Yáadilá! Good Grief! More to say about this wonderful book!

Back in January, I did a first-look 'highly recommended' post about Yáadilá!: Good Grief! I heaped praise on the way Laurel Goodluck and Jonathan Nelson presented the story. At the end of that post, I said I'd be back with more to say. So here we go! 

In that post, I was especially taken with "Helpful Narrator" -- a character that proclaims on the first very page -- that it will teach readers how to yáadilá using body language. Here's my photo of the first page:

 

See what I mean? Anytime you have felt frustrated, you may have crossed your arms, or put your hands on your hips, or shook your head, rolled your eyes, sighed, or shrugged your soldiers. All of those gestures are the embodiment of frustration. Helpful Narrator tells us how we can use our body to communicate that sense of yáadilá, or good grief. On the facing page, Helpful Narrator goes on to tell you how to say the word. Meanwhile, a significant character in the book comments on Helpful Narrator! I love every bit of this!

In Yáadilá!, that red box is an unseen but very present voice in the book. Why am I going on about this, you may wonder. Because I haven't seen anything like this before. Have you?

Goodluck and Nelson are reaching across a knowledge gap to help you, the person getting ready to read this book aloud, who probably doesn't know any Diné words. Many times when I recommend a Native-authored book, I ask you to flip to the back and read the author's note. The information Native writers share with you is vital. Most schools and universities don't teach what you find in those notes. But with this technique -- Helpful Narrator -- we see a new iteration of an author's note. And its a delight! 

Get the book and see what I mean. Here's the image I used with my first look. Highly recommended! 

Yáadilá! Good Grief! 

Written by Laurel Goodluck (Mandan, Hidatsa and Arikara)

Illustrated by Jonathan Nelson (Diné)

Published in 2025

Publisher: Heartdrum (HarperCollins)

Reviewer: Debbie Reese

Review Status: Highly Recommended

2024 American Indian Literature Award Medal Acceptance: Jonathan Nelson

Editors Note: On January 25, 2025, the American Indian Library Association (AILA) held its Youth Literature Award Ceremony in Phoenix. I am pleased to share the remarks Jonathan Nelson delivered when he received the American Indian Youth Literature Award in the picture book category for Forever Cousins. 

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AIYLA Medal Acceptance Remarks

Jonathan Nelson

Ya'at'eeh! Shi ei yinishye. Kiyaa'aanii doo Naakai dine'e baschichiin. Hooghan lani da shicheii doo Táchii’nii da shinali.

Hello. My name is Jonathan Nelson. I am of the Towering House clan, born for the Mexican clan. My maternal grandparents are of the Many Hogans clan and my paternal grandparents are of the Red-Running-Into-The-Water clan.

I’m grateful and honored to be here with you all and among the creators listed on the agenda for the American Indian Youth Literature Awards.

I’ve been awarded 2 awards and, yes, I was curious about giving the same speech twice. Thanks to Charlesbridge and Laurie Goodluck to share my talents on Forever Cousins. I also want to thank Heartdrum, an imprint of HarperCollins, and Kim Rogers for giving me the opportunity to collaborate on A Letter for Bob.

It’s been awhile since I’ve been back to Phoenix, the homelands of the of the Akimel O'odham (Pima), Piipaash (Maricopa), and Yavapai people. It’s great to see some of them here along with everyone else and these heavy hitters. I'm grateful and honored to be sharing this space and time with you.

In sharing my process I’d like to share some work I did back in 2009. I painted a series of six vinyl records I labeled Ewe-volution. You as in sheep. Get it? It’s a story about a mother and her son, a ram. The mother is the first to ever realize that she's a being, a person.

Her son begins to grow and he doesn't have to think about his own existence. He knows who he is and he has aspirations and goals. You can see how he grows. It relates with how I’ve gone through life and how the younger generations perceive education.

I got my start in art as a young kid drawing Garfield, Snoopy, then Spiderman, Hulk, and Batman. In high school, I began painting. Today, I work as a graphic artist, web designer, and illustrator.

In 2001, I had just met, my partner, Dr. Christine Nelson in Scottsdale and began dating. All the way from the Rez, she’s from Farmington and I’m from Hogback. I was working as a skycap at Sky Harbor and 9/11 happened and everything came to a halt. I needed to find work right away. We looked at different options and suggested I go back to school. We toured Al Collins Graphic Design School in Tempe and that’s where I got my start in graphic design and illustration. I didn't know I could do that with my art as I finished high school.

So, Dr. Chris and I have a 14-year-old son, Olin. He’s back in Denver and couldn’t be with us. So, he is kind of like the ram along with the younger generations we’re watching grow. He’s been seeing and hearing our work since he was a baby. Dr. Nelson with her research and writing contributions to papers, journals, and books. He’s watched me paint, sketch, and draw on canvas and iPad. He’s been with us on work trips to conferences and comic book conventions where we’ve presented and showcased. He hears about our research, projects, and discussions on higher education, career, and activist art among other topics in our fields.

I’m grateful to work with these authors, designers, and educators, and, more so, within various Indigenous communities, companies, and student organizations. Olin and the youth are seeing us do this work. We’re giving them pathways they could follow, something to shoot for. I illustrate that in my books. Olin, and my nieces and nephews, the youth, can see themselves in these books. I draw these characters for my wife, my son, my nieces and nephews, grandmas and grandpas and so on and so forth. I hope you can also see them for yourselves and your communities.

Thanks to Charlesbridge and Heartdrum & HarperCollins. Thanks to my agent, Nicole Gieger at Full Circle Literary. And thanks to American Indian Youth Literature Awards for these honors and inviting me here for this ceremony.

2024 American Indian Literature Award Medal Acceptance: Laurel Goodluck

Editors Note: On January 25, 2025, the American Indian Library Association (AILA) held its Youth Literature Award Ceremony in Phoenix. I am pleased to share the remarks Laurel Goodluck delivered when she received the American Indian Youth Literature Award in the picture book category for Forever Cousins. 

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Naomi Bishop (left) presenting Laurel Goodluck (right) with award for Forever Cousins

AIYLA Medal Acceptance Remarks

Laurel Goodluck

Greetings,

Dosha – Hello, friends. It’s wonderful to be spending the morning with you all. Writing a book for children is a privilege, a responsibility, and a lot of fun.

BUT…

I wasn’t one of those kids who said I wanted to be a writer, but I grew up with oral storytelling.

• My storytelling journey began with my family around the kitchen table in the SF Bay Area in California on weekends with my parents, uncles, aunties, grandmas, and cousins. The grown-ups told us stories of their adventures as children growing up in our homelands in North Dakota and Alaska. Stories of brown bears, gathering cedar bark, their father singing lullabies in Hidatsa and playing Stardust on the Sax, and trading horses for bikes with the town kids in Elbowoods.
• As cousins, these stories were adventures that we wanted to live up to. So, when we ventured home to North Dakota each summer, we were determined to have similar escapades and did. We jumped off logs in the lake, and when wild ponies wandered on our farm, we corralled them and played rodeo; we found rattlesnakes in the garden, and in solemn moments, we gathered around the tipi rings dotting the land and imagined our ancestors’ lives on the prairie.
• But the stories that were told around the kitchen table that later informed all of us cousins as adults were the stories about our chiefs and my grandfather, who was tribal chairman of Fort Berthold. My grandfather, Martin Old Dog Cross, bravely fought against the government to stop the Garrison Dam, which eventually flooded our ancestral lands. Martin would meet with Senators in Washington DC and proclaim, “There is no price for our land.”
• With this legacy of leadership through oral storytelling, I learned that these powerful stories offered keys to resilience. So, with a career in education and mental health and near retirement, I decided to write for children. I wanted to provide all the kids with what my family offered me through oral storytelling.

It began with FOREVER COUSINS.

• It is a story of my family and many families who experienced the Indian Relocation Act. Who knew a picture book format could offer all of this? I didn’t initially; this was my first attempt at a picture book. I soon discovered I could tell a universal story of love and friendship between cousins with all the beauty of our Native culture sprinkled through the story as organically as we live. And the back matter, the author’s note could express my need to tell the untold history and tribal and native cultural relevance. It also began with a lovely team of allies.
• I found Debbie Reese on social media. I Instant Messaged her and asked her many questions. She directed me to Tracy Sorell, who spent over an hour on the phone with me, passing on her wisdom. Later, Traci and I were paired together as mentors and mentees through WNDB (We Need Diverse Books), and everything began to change. 
• Tracy introduced me to freelance editor Karen Boss, who was patient and professional and helped me edit Forever Cousins. Then she said, “I don’t say this to everyone; I’d like you to submit this to Charlesbridge.”
• At the same time, I met Nicole Geiger, agent extraordinaire with Full Circle Literary Agency. I knew I wanted to be with this agency, which supported diverse creatives in children’s literature for decades.
• My community expanded through the Kweli Children of Color Conference with Laura Pegram’s leadership, Native writing intensives sponsored by Heartdrum and WNDB with editor Rosemary Brosnan and Cynthia Leitich Smith, Highlights Native retreats with Tracy Sorell, and international online Native writing critique groups. We are a solid Native community of support and a soft nest to retreat to.

Closing

• So, Forever Cousins was created with this circle of support and belief. And with a talented illustrator, Jonathan Nelson, who made the beautiful, vibrant, and playful art. I will forever be grateful to these allies and the community we continue to grow and nurture with many unique tribal voices and needed stories.
• Thank you, American Indian Library Association, for this honor of best picture book, which I’m thrilled to share with Andrea Rogers and her brilliant story.
• And last, I thank my family, who offered stories that run as deep as the tipi rings still outlined on our prairie.

2024 American Indian Literature Award Medal Acceptance: Kim Rogers

Editors Note: On January 25, 2025, the American Indian Library Association (AILA) held its Youth Literature Award Ceremony in Phoenix. I am pleased to share the remarks Kim Rogers delivered when she received the American Indian Youth Literature Award in the picture book category for A Letter for Bob. 

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AIYLA Medal Acceptance Remarks

Kim Rogers

This is my first trip to Phoenix. It’s a wonderful reprieve from the freezing Oklahoma winter. Last week, during single digit temperatures, I was trying to thaw out our frozen shower with a portable space heater. Phoenix is a lot warmer, and I am grateful!

I am delighted to be here with you today to celebrate this special occasion in Native American Children's Literature. 

Thank you so much for that kind introduction and warm welcome. Thank you to the American Indian Youth Literature Award committee members. I am grateful for the work you do. Thank you to everyone who made this event possible.

I am honored to receive this recognition along with many brilliant creatives whose work I admire.

Congrats to Laurel Goodluck and Jonathan Nelson. I am honored to share this recognition with you both.

My love of stories began at a young age when my Wichita grandmother and aunties would sit around my grandma’s living room and tell stories. They had me mesmerized.

They talked about all kinds of things. And maybe some things I wasn’t supposed to hear. They told stories about the men they’d dated, the latest gossip in town, and ghost stories on our tribal lands. Listening to them made me feel grown up and a part of them—a strong circle of women. And believe me, I learned a lot from those stories as you might imagine! Wow!

From the time I could read, I’d be lost in books. And I recruited others too. In my bedroom, I would line up my stuffed animals and pretend that I was a school teacher and read them picture books. Then I started writing my own.

I’d even illustrate the pages. I would staple them together and read them to my stuffed animal friends too. Yes, they were all ears!

In first grade, I wrote my first poem. It was raining that day and it filled me with so much emotion. I had to get the words on the page. I wrote it on a worksheet and drew a picture of a girl under an umbrella. My teacher commented later that she liked my poem and that it touched her. That’s when I learned the power of words.

In fourth grade, our teacher gave us the assignment of writing stories from our spelling word list. She would often ask me to read mine in front of the class. She told me I would be a writer someday. I laughed because I thought that something so fun could not be a real job. I thought jobs had to be miserable.

I am thankful for those wonderful teachers who encouraged me and were my first writing cheerleaders. They are part of the reason I stand here before you today.

For a long time, I was hesitant to write from my Wichita perspective. I grew up during a time when it did not feel safe for me to do so. With the start of 2025, it feels like that all over again.

But our work is incredibly important. It’s essential for our Native youth to see themselves in books. We must push back against book bans and efforts to silence our voices. We must continue on and write our stories for the sake our children and future generations.

Thank you to my friend Cynthia Leitich Smith, author - curator of Heartdrum who is another cheerleader in my life. Years ago, she had reached out to me on social media encouraging me to write about my Wichita heritage when I was writing everything else but that. She helped me find the courage to share my voice.

Thank you to my friend and agent Tricia Lawrence. I appreciate everything that you do for me!

Thank you to my editor and friend Rosemary Brosnan who had planned to celebrate with us today but could not be here. Sending you well-wishes and hugs. Thank you for your kindness and believing in my stories. Your brilliant editing makes every manuscript shine.

Thank you to all the wonderful people at Heartdrum. I am thrilled that I get to work with each one of you.

Thank you to Jonathan Nelson for bringing A LETTER TO BOB to life. I love seeing the beauty, humor, and relationships that you created in the illustrations of Katie and her family. And of course Bob the car.

Thank you to my family for your love and support, even those who are with me in spirit. Mom, I miss you each and every day.

Thank you to our sons for the memories of the many vacations, car rides, and adventures that helped me write the scenes in A LETTER FOR BOB.

Thank you especially to my husband, the love of my life and my biggest supporter and ultimate cheerleader who continues to tell everyone how proud he is of his wife—even our dentist! And I'm honestly a little embarrassed.

Thank you to everyone who advocates for Natives stories including librarians and teachers. YOU are my heroes. 

I am so grateful to you all. So:ti:c?a. Thank you.

2024 American Indian Literature Award Medal Acceptance: Christine Day

Editors Note: On January 25, 2025, the American Indian Library Association (AILA) held its Youth Literature Award Ceremony in Phoenix. I am pleased to share the remarks Christine Day delivered when she received the American Indian Youth Literature Award in the middle school category for We Still Belong. 

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AIYLA Medal Acceptance Remarks

Christine Day

Good morning, everyone. It’s a beautiful day to be here, to share space with you all in this incredible venue, and to celebrate the immense talent and diversity of our Native kid lit community.

For those of you who don’t know me: Hi. I’m Christine. I’m a citizen of the Upper Skagit Tribe, which is one of the signatories of the Treaty of Point Elliott in western Washington State. My maternal grandmother, Lorraine, was Upper Skagit and Nooksack. She was also a teenager when she carried my mother. Lorraine spent part of her pregnancy in a group home for unwed mothers in Seattle. And while she was there, she wrote letters to her family. Most of her letters recounted ordinary things, such as her math and world history lessons, and she often asked after the wellbeing of her younger siblings. But sometimes, her writings would reveal the way things were in that home. In one letter, postmarked August 29 th , 1960, she wrote: “Hi! I hope all of you are fine, I’m doing okay… I didn’t call because most of this week the girls have got into trouble for using the telephone too much, and some of the girls had their telephone privileges taken away… We have phone monitors to time each girl on the telephone, so all of us girls can talk five minutes. If we take over five minutes, we get called down to the housemother and she gives the girl an hour of work for talking over time on the telephone. I thought if I called you, I would’ve probably talked over five minutes, so I didn’t call…” I had a similar thought when I was writing this speech, actually. Is it possible for me to acknowledge my people in only five-to-seven minutes? Don’t know. We’ll see.

Anyway. Her letter continues: “There are about twenty girls coming here at the end of this month, and it's crowded already. Some of the girls that are new are sleeping on the davenport… The ages that we have here are 13, 14, 15, 16, and all the way up to 33 years old. All the girls are nice to me and I get along with everybody. I still have a good record, haven’t got into trouble at all, and I’m going to keep it that way. Well, I hope everybody’s okay. I hope everybody’s fine. I have to get ready for bed now, and I’ll write sooner if I’m not too busy, tell everybody I said hello. Tell all the kids I said hello. Lots of Love, Lorraine.”

My mother was born in September of 1960. But unfortunately, the Indian Child Welfare Act would not pass in Congress until 1978. Therefore, my mother spent the first six months of her life in an orphanage, despite the fact that she wasn’t technically an orphan. And during those six months, she had no legal name. Someone at some point gave her the nickname “Christy.” But when her adoptive parents came along, her new mother opted for “Susan,” because she already had a cousin named Christy, whom she did not like. Which is fair enough, I suppose.

And that is how I came to be Christine. My parents chose it in honor of my mother’s first nickname. And they gave me Lorraine, as my middle name, in honor of my mom’s young birth mother, whom we never got to meet.

So, all my life, I have carried these women and their stories with me. This is part of the reason why I write the books that I write. It’s also one of the reasons why this award means so much to me. Because the American Indian Youth Literature Award committee isn’t only honoring me: you have chosen to honor them, as well. Lorraine and Sue, their stories are separate yet inseparable from mine, like three strands of the same braid. I would not be here without them. And through my writing, I always strive to pay tribute to them. So I’d like to thank you all, truly, for seeing something worth recognizing in my work.

Additional thanks are due to my team at the Heartdrum imprint. Rosemary Brosnan couldn’t join us today, which makes me sad, because I miss her. But alas. Here is what I’d planned to say to her: Rosemary, seven years ago, you changed my life with your belief in me. Thank you for your enthusiasm, your guidance, your patience, and your profound respect for the creative process. I am so grateful to call you my friend, as well as my trusted editor and mentor. Cynthia Leitich Smith, I am deeply grateful for your kindness and friendship as well, and your dedication to building community and bringing folks together. I am incredibly proud to be a Heartdrum author.

I also need to thank my team at the Philomel imprint. Thank you for granting me the opportunity to share Maria Tallchief’s life story with young readers. I’m grateful to Chelsea Clinton for creating the She Persisted series. Thanks to Jill Santopolo and Talia Benamy for their wonderful editorial work. Thanks to Gillian Flint for her beautiful illustrations. And thanks to the Osage Nation Language Department, for providing some text in their syllabary.

And of course, I need to acknowledge my husband and kids. Every book I write is also a love letter to you. You are the light that brings the dawn. You are my whole world.

Thank you all again for being here. I’ve heard rumors that this will be the last ALA midwinter conference, which I find a bit shocking and sad. But alas. One of my favorite quotes of all time comes from the book Pachinko, by Min Jin Lee. It’s the very first sentence, which says: “History has failed us, but no matter.” What a line. What a revelation, really. And it feels especially true for those of us ensconced in the world of children’s literature. Either in schools and libraries, or as parents and writers.

History has failed us, but no matter. May we stay attuned to our own creativity and curiosity and empathy. May we strive to honor our ancestors, and empower our descendants. May we write and share the books that want to be written. And may we uplift all children, everywhere, by doing so.

Thank you.

2024 American Indian Literature Award Medal Acceptance: Traci Sorell

Editors Note: On January 25, 2025, the American Indian Library Association (AILA) held its Youth Literature Award Ceremony in Phoenix. I am pleased to share the remarks given by Traci Sorell when she received the American Indian Youth Literature Honor Award in the picture book category for Contenders: Two Native Baseball Players, One World Series, and the Honor Award in the middle school category for Mascot, and for She Persisted: Wilma Mankiller. 

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AIYLA Medal Acceptance Remarks

Traci Sorell

ᏏᏲ ᏂᎦᏓ. Traci Sorell ᏓᏆᏙᎠ. ᏥᎡᏥ. ᏥᎩᎶᎯ. ᏥᏗᎪᏪᎵᎩ.

Wado for the warm welcome. It is wonderful to be here at the American Indian Youth Literature

Awards (AIYLA) in community with tremendous storytellers from Native Nations across this

continent. I am humbled and honored.

Although my family is back home supporting my son in his school competitions, nothing I create

is done without them, my ancestors, my community, and ᎤᏁᎳᏅᎢ.

As many of you know, I did not come to writing for young people as anything other than a

mother seeking to solve a problem. In many ways, I’m grateful for that naïveté. Had I known the

vulnerability the creative life would require, I assure you that I would have been less enthusiastic

about figuring out this industry and how to write. But forces greater than myself are in charge, so

here I am.

With that, I owe a deep ᏩᏙ to the American Indian Library Association (AILA) for their work,

their independence, and their commitment to honoring Native created stories. I always tell others

that your recognition and what I hear directly from readers mean the most to me. It’s the truth.

I want to quickly say how thankful I am that AILA selected five previous titles I worked on for

recognition. We couldn’t have an in-person ceremony for those with the pandemic, so I offer my

gratitude to those previous AIYLA committees now.

My literary agent Emily Mitchell has assisted me in ways too numerous to list. ᏩᏙ, Em!

For the three books honored this year:

Wilma Mankiller, a chapter book about my shero, was incredible to write. I had planned a PB bio

about her when Jill Santopolo at Philomel reached out to ask if I was interested. How could I not

accept? I had all the research ready and loved the She Persisted series’ focus on the person’s

younger years laying the foundation for future accomplishments. ᏩᏙ to Jill and Talia Benamy at

Philomel, Illustrators Alexandra Boiger and Gillian Flint, Penguin’s School & Library team

(especially Summer Ogata), and Chelsea Clinton for creating the series.

Contenders, the dual biography of pro baseball players Charles Bender (Ojibwe) and John Tortes

Meyers (Cahuilla), wouldn’t exist without my mother giving me a love of the game and my

husband telling me about the accomplishments of these incredible athletes. The book would not

be the beautiful, strong story it is without Arigon Starr’s incredible art. She was the only person I

wanted to co-create with, and I’m grateful that our editor Namrata Tripathi and baseball loving

art director Jasmin Rubero agreed. Arigon’s line work, ability to make each person’s face unique

(a rarity in most kidlit books), and her centering of each man’s Native identity took the story

beyond anything I dreamed possible. Our all-woman team at Kokila enjoyed making this book

together. Shout out to Tessa Meischeid, our Penguin publicist, for connecting the book with

NPR’s Weekend Edition and several broadcasts in Canada including the CBC. I’m grateful to the Tulsa Artist Fellowship for bringing Arigon to live temporarily in Tulsa, so we could meet in the

first place.

Mascot wouldn’t exist without poet Charles Waters who dreamt up the idea for this verse novel

and asked if I’d co-author with him. It’s our pandemic creation. Our Charlesbridge editor

extraordinaire Karen Boss made this book as polished as possible. It’s the magic she does with

any story she reads – as evidenced by other books among AIYLA’s present, past and, I suspect,

future awardees. Nicole Neidhardt’s incredible cover art draws readers to open the book, and

Diane Earley’s design with gritty-feel cover are top notch too. Meg Quinn, Donna Spurlock,

Jordan Standridge, Jaliza Burwell, and the rest of the Charlesbridge sales and marketing team

never failed to get this book into all the right hands.

Again, my profound gratitude to the AIYLA committee for all the hours you devote to this work.

ᏩᏙ to Penguin for supporting me to attend this wonderful ceremony. To celebrate with so many

Natives who live here locally makes this extra special. ᏩᏙ!

2024 American Indian Literature Award Medal Acceptance: Arigon Starr

Editors Note: On January 25, 2025, the American Indian Library Association (AILA) held its Youth Literature Award Ceremony in Phoenix. I am pleased to share the remarks Arigon Starr delivered when she received the American Indian Youth Literature Honor Award in the picture book category for Contenders: Two Native Baseball Players, One World Series. Starr did the illustrations; the book is by Traci Sorell. 

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AIYLA Medal Acceptance Remarks

Arigon Starr

Thank you to everyone at AILA, Kokila Books and especially Traci Sorell. This was my first picture book and hopefully not my last.

I come from a matrilineal baseball family. My Grandmother and her sister took my Mom to Tulsa baseball games in the 1940s, while she loved listening to St. Louis Cardinals baseball as a young girl. Mom and my sister Gay were San Diego Padres fans – while me and my Dad liked the Los Angeles Dodgers.

Editor Namrata Tripathi and art director Jasmin Rubero supported my artwork and let me run wild! It was an honor to represent these pioneers (Charles Bender & John Meyers) in baseball and celebrate their achievements.

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