Native People Respond to Rowling

Eds. note on June 30, 2016: Scroll down to see curated list of items that Native writers have written in response to Rowling.

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Screen cap added 3/10/16

As fans of Harry Potter know, there are (at least) two distinct responses to J.K. Rowling's "History of Magic in North America" stories.

The first story, "Fourteenth Century - Seventeenth Century," was released on Monday, March 8, 2016. Fans were delighted to have more of her writing to read.

Native people--those who are fans of her books, and those of us who study or write about representations of Native peoples in popular culture and children's literature--had a different response.

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When I (Debbie Reese) read the first story in Rowling's series, I'd been deeply immersed in a study of a handful of best selling children's books. I was appalled to read "also called redskins for their custom of smearing red earth over their entire bodies" in the popular Geronimo Stilton's The Wild, Wild West:

And I'd just read Rick Riordan's The Lost Hero where a main character's dad is Cherokee, making her half Cherokee. She's taunted by other characters who ask her if her dad is an alcoholic and if she'll do a rain dance. Riordan had those words come from what we might characterize as "mean girls." I assume he did that to, in that way, show them to be inappropriate things to say, but far too many people won't pick up on that nuance. I worry that, without a direct push-back on those taunts, people will view them as an affirmation of existing stereotypical ideas, and use those same taunts themselves.

Update: March 13: 2016

Rick Riordan submitted a comment. Thank you, Mr. Riordan, for your comment. I'm pasting it here, and will include it in my full review of your book:

Rick Riordan has left a new comment on your post "Native People Respond to Rowling": 

Hi Debbie, I hadn't read this article expecting to be referenced, but thank you for your concerns. Yes, of course, I intended the insults hurled at Piper in The Lost Hero to be viewed as what they are: racist stereotyping and bullying, as something Piper had to deal with, just as Samirah in Sword of Summer has to deal with school bullies asking if she is a terrorist because she is Muslim. I hope that my readers will understand the inappropriateness of this bullying in context, especially as Piper's reality as presented in the book is so far from what those bullies say. Piper's dad is a great father and a multimillionaire movie star. The character with the alcoholic parent is in fact Piper's white boyfriend Jason, and as the son of alcoholic parents, Jason's struggle is something I can speak to. I try to do my homework and be respectful while representing the struggles each of my characters face, but of course I don't always get it right, and I value your feedback. 

With The Wild Wild West and The Lost Hero as my immediate context for reading Rowling's story, I was furious. I used the f-bomb in a tweet at her.  Use of the word wasn't necessary, but the emotion it expressed was real. As I read tweets by Native people, I saw a range of emotion. Anger. And hurt, too. Native people who are my daughter's age grew up reading Harry Potter. This particular group are adults now, in their 20s. She--and they--were huge fans of every book in the series.

But this short story? Their reaction to it is different. They read the first line, with its monolithic "The Native Americans" as bad, but each paragraph of that short story was laden with troubling misrepresentations of Native peoples.

Those who are following the news on this story know that major media is reporting on it, excerpting a few words from a stream of tweets, or, from a blog post. Below are links to items by Native writers. Please read and share them. I'll be adding others as I find them, arranging them chronologically by the date on which I add them. If you see others, please let me know in a comment.

Items added on March 10, 2016

March 7, 2016: "Magic in North America": The Harry Potter franchise veers too close to home by Adrienne Keene of Native Appropriations

March 7, 2016: #MagicInNorthAmerica smh as an Otoe Missouria & Choctaw woman... (series of tweets) by Johnnie Jae

March 7, 2016: So @jkrowling chose to appropriate... (series of tweets) by Aaron Paquette

March 8, 2016: Yo, @jkrowling, my ancestors... (series of tweets) by Brian Young

March 8, 2016: Obviously, I'm heated over this whole #MagicInNorthAmerica... (series of tweets) by Johnnie Jae

March 8, 2016: JK Rowling is... (series of tweets) by Native Beauty

March 9, 2016: When we say...   (series by tweets) by Johnnie Jae

March 9, 2016: Magic & Marginalization: Et tu, JK? by Tate Walker on Righting Red

March 9, 2016: Why it's more than fiction by Mari Kurisato

March 9, 2016: In last 30 hours or so... (series of tweets) by Debbie Reese of American Indians in Children's Literature

March 9, 2016: J.K. Rowling on Native American Wizards - Called Skin Walkers on Pottermore Website by Vincent Shilling at Indian Country Today

March 9, 2016: J.K. Rowling Has Got Nothing on US History Textbook Fiction by Simon Moya-Smith at Indian Country Today

March 9, 2016: J.K. Rowling Gets a Howler by Robert Saxton at Robert Saxton Books

March 9, 2016: William Apess (Pequot) on Depictions of Native People in Stories by Debbie Reese of American Indians in Children's Literature

March 9, 2016: Navajo skinwalker slams JK Rowlings 'Magic in North America' series, a satirical response at Tlo'chi'iin News 

March 9, 2016: When I was little... (series of tweets) by Megan Red Shirt-Shaw

March 9, 2016: My Navajo family... (series of tweets) by Jacqueline Keeler

March 10, 2016: Why it burns me by Mari Kurisato

March 10, 2016: This week in #SettlerNonsense: Fantastical Natives and Where to Find them, or, WHY JK ROWLING, WHY?! WHYYYYYYY! by Cutcha Risling Baldy

March 10, 2016: From Sandy Littletree on Facebook, comments about Navajo people and skinwalkers.



Many Native people on Twitter sent out individual, unlinked tweets. Start with the one I link to and read through the TL to find their other Rowling tweets.

March 8, 2016: Yes, it's fiction... by Martie Simmons

March 9, 2016: Skinwalkers? Really? by Jourdan B-B

March 10, 2016: My grandfather is a #MedicineMan by Pamela J. Peters



Here, I'll list media stories that, in my view, are listening to Native voices:

March 10, 2016: JK Rowling is criticised for writing web post about Native American wizards at BBC Newsbeat/Entertainment

March 10, 2016: It's Not Only a Story: Why it Matters How JK Rowling Depicts Native American History by Elizabeth Minkel in New Statesman. 

Items added on March 11, 2016 

March 9, 2016: We Aren't Magic, We Are Real by Fox Spears at Robohontas

March 11, 2016: I think I'm finally ready... (series of tweets) by Dia Lacina

March 11, 20016: So, I read the 4th installment... (series of tweets) by Johnnie Jae



Items added on March 13, 2016

March 9, 2016: Hey Indigenous authors... (series of tweets) by Aaron Paquette

March 9, 2016: My family fought an 8-year battle... (series of tweets by Darcie Little Badger)

March 11, 2016: Adrienne Keene calls J.K. Rowling's new series a slap in the face Interview at Rosanna Deerchild's Unreserved on CBC Radio

March 11, 2016: #NotNorthAmericanMagic hashtag started by Sheena Roetman @sheenalouise

March 13, 2016: Exactly why Rowling... (series of tweets) by Adrienne Keene



Items added on March 14, 2016

March 13, 2016: Indigenous stories and non-Indigenous writers: some reflections on respect and process by Ambelin Kwaymullina at ALPHA reader

March 14, 2016: JK Rowling Lifts Indigenous Traditions But Ignores History by Aaron Paquette at Ottawa Citizen



Items added on March 15, 2016

March 15, 2016: Did JK Rowling Change the Images on her Magic in North America page at Pottermore? by Debbie Reese at American Indians in Children's Literature.

March 15, 2016: On Native America Calling, Native People Respond to Jason Aaron's Scalped and JK Rowling's Magic in North America 

March 15, 2016: It's Like Muggles Writing About Wizards audio recording from Native America Calling with guests, Lee Francis and Tate Walker.



Items added on March 16, 2016

March 14, 2016: Harry Potter and the Magic Indians by Marty Two Bulls at Indian Country Today. 


Items added on March 17, 2016

March 9, 2016: Pottermore is just more disappointment by Rebecca Roanhorse at Writing While Indigenous/Writing While Black

March 16, 2016: Dear J.K. Rowling: Wakanyeja Video Response to History of #MagicInNorthAmerica by Tate Walker and her daughter, Mimi, at Righting Red.



Items added on March 31, 2016

March 18, 2016: What JK Rowling's New Story Can Teach Us about Cultural Appropriation at Huffington Post

March 20, 2016: Imagine Otherwise, a Storify by Daniel Heath Justice

March 21, 2016: Pro tips for SF/Fantasy Writers Interested in "Native" Themes..., a Storify by Daniel Heath Justice

March 22, 2016: The Stream - Reimagining Native Americans in the Arts (video) featuring Adrienne Keene, Stephen Graham Jones, Skawennati, and Elizabeth LaPensée.


Items added on July 3, 2016

Wednesday, June 29, 2016: "No surprise that Warren, who made false claims to Native identity, want in on Rowling's new story." (series of tweets) by Debbie Reese on Twitter.

Friday, July 1, 2016: Pottermore problems: Scholars and writers call on J.K. Rowling's North American magic by Paula Young Lee at Salon.

Friday, July 1, 2016: Dear JK Rowling: We're Still Here by Loralee Sepsey at Natives in America.


Items added on July 11, 2016

July 8, 2016: J.K. Rowling's Ilvermorny School draws criticism from Indigenous fans by Stephanie Cram at CBC News Aboriginal, includes cites Loralee Sepsey and Adrienne Keene.

July 11, 2016: A Native writer who tweets from @CyborgN8VMari has been blocked by JK Rowling (I've used a red arrow and box to highlight the blocked notice):

Items added on October 16, 2016

October 14, 2016: Taté Walker's JK Rowling's Anti-Native 'Magic' Racism - And How Authors Can Do Diversity Better, at Everyday Feminism

Deborah Wiles, Debbie Reese, and Choosing a Revolution

Eds. note: A couple of people wrote directly to tell me they're having trouble submitting a comment. If you've had trouble, too, please write to me directly and I'll post on your behalf. If you wish to be anonymous, I will respect your request. My apologies! 

I spent the first three days of this week at Georgia State University. I gave a lecture in their Distinguished Speaker series and several guest lectures to classes in GSU's Department of Early Childhood and Elementary Education. All meals were with students and faculty. It was a full schedule, but I enjoyed and learned from all of it and am sharing one part of it here.

Just before I got on my plane for Atlanta on Monday morning (August 31, 2015), I learned (via Facebook) that the author, Deborah Wiles, wished she'd known I was going to be there, because she wanted to meet me. I didn't know her work at that point.

Deborah was able to get an invitation to dinner on Tuesday evening. There were five of us (three professors, Deborah, and myself). I've had meals with writers before, but don't recall one like that one. I was, in short, rather stunned by most of it.

Deborah's experience of it is different from mine. Early Wednesday, she provided a recap on her Facebook page (note: sometimes that page is viewable, sometimes it isn't; no idea why!):

Last night's dinner at Niramish in Little Five Points, ATL. I got excited when I saw that Debbie Reese was speaking to students in the School of Education at Georgia State and I... um... invited myself to dinner. No I didn't. But I did squee a liitle (a lot) about the fact that she was coming. I was invited to dinner and was ecstatic about the invite, so much so that I brought everyone a book and foisted it into their hands. They were so gracious. I loved talking about children's literature and who gets to tell the story about careful, close reading, and about thoughtful critical discourse (for starters). I have long admired Debbie's work and have been getting to know my teaching friends at the College of Education & Human Development, Georgia State University this year, whom I admire more with each encounter... Thank you the invitation and generosity! Rhina Williams, Cathy Amanti, Debbie Reese, and Thomas Crisp.

I replied to her on Friday afternoon (September 4):

Deborah, you read my blog and my work, so you know I'm pretty forthcoming. I'll be that way here, too. When you brought up the who-can-write topic at dinner, there was an edge in your words as you spoke, at length, about it and criticisms of REVOLUTION. Since then, I've spent hours thinking about that dinner. I don't think we had a discussion, but I am willing to have that discussion with you. You indicate that white writers feel they can't get their books published if their books are about someone outside the writers identity. With regard to non-Native writers writing books about Native people, I don't see what you're describing. What do you think... do you want to talk more about this? On my blog, perhaps?

And she responded:

Sure, we can talk more about that. I want to make sure I am clear about what I said (or tried to say). I don't think white writers can't get their books published if they write outside their culture, not at all... these books are published all the time. I've published them. We were bouncing around quite a bit at that dinner, topic to topic. Part of what I said was that I got push-back in certain circles for writing in Ray's (black) voice in REVOLUTION, but I know that voice is authentic to 1960s Mississippi because I lived there and heard it all my life and wrote it that way. Sometimes in our (collective) zeal to "get it right" we point at a problem that isn't there. I'm happy to talk more on your blog! Thanks for thinking about it with me.

So, here's my post about that dinner. Obviously I wasn't taking notes. Deborah's comment above ("what I said (or tried to say)") demonstrates that neither of us is sure of what was said. This is my recollection and reflections on the evening.

On arriving, Deborah immediately began by talking to me about my work, saying that writers read what I say. She specifically mentioned my work on Ann Rinaldi's My Heart is on the Ground and how that made an impact on writers.

I was, of course, glad to hear that, but then she turned the conversation to current discussions in children's literature, saying that this is a dangerous time for writers, because they are being told that they can't write outside their cultural group and that if they do write outside their culture, their books won't get published. Note that in her Facebook comment above, she said these books are getting published and uses her book as an example. I recall saying that I think these are exciting times, because we need diverse voices. It was that exchange--with her characterizing these times as dangerous and me describing them as exciting--that set the tone for the rest of the evening.

Deborah started talking about her book, Revolution. She said that she'd shown Jackie Woodson some of the work she was doing on that book, or that she'd talked with her about the African American character, Ray, in Revolution, or maybe it was that she'd talked with Jackie about white writers giving voice to black characters. Whatever it was, the outcome was that Deborah had a green light (my words, not hers) from Jackie. I don't doubt any of it, but I am uneasy with that sort of report. It implies an endorsement from someone who isn't there to confirm it. I'm very attentive to this because, knowingly or not, writers who do that are, in my view, appropriating that person in a way that I find inappropriate. If Deborah could point to a statement Jackie made about Revolution, that would be different.

Deborah went on to to tell us that she had lived in Mississippi and that the voice she gave to Ray is based on what she heard when she lived there. But, she said, "fervent" people didn't like what she did. Someone (me or one of the professors at the table) asked her who the "fervent" people are, and she said that she wasn't going to say if I was going to tell them.

I was taken aback by that and responded immediately with "well don't say then, because I will tell them." She went on to say that it is SLJ's Heavy Medal blog, and that Heavy Medal discussions are dangerous, that they have too much power in terms of influencing what people think.

Deborah seemed angry. She was talking at me, not with me. I don't recall saying anything at all in response to what she said about Heavy Medal and fervent people.

I share my recollection of the dinner--not to solicit sympathy from anyone or to embarrass Deborah--but to convey my frustration with the incredible resistance Deborah's words and emotion represent within the larger context of children's literature.

The who-can-write conversation is not new. In 1996, Kathryn Lasky wrote an article titled "To Stingo with Love: An Author's Perspective on Writing outside One's Culture." In it, she wrote that "self-styled militias of cultural diversity are beginning to deliver dictates and guidelines about the creation and publishing of literature for a multicultural population of readers" (p. 85 in Fox and Short's Stories Matter: The Complexity of Cultural Authenticity in Children's Literature, published in 2003 by the National Council of Teachers of English).

I count myself in that "self styled militia." One need only look at the numbers the Cooperative Children's Book Center at the University of Wisconsin puts out each year to see that we've made little progress:

CCBCs data shows some small gains here and there, but overall, things haven't changed much. One reason, I think, is the lack of diversity within the major publishing houses. I think there's a savior mentality in the big publishing houses and a tendency to view other as less-than. For some it is conscious; for others it is unconscious. All of it can--and should be--characterized as well-intentioned, but it is also unexamined and as such, reflects institutional racism. The history of this country is one that bestows privilege on some and not on others. That history privileges dominant voices over minority ones, from the people at the table in those publishing houses to the voices in the books they publish. That--I believe--is why there's been no progress. Part of what contributes to that lack of progress is that too many people feel sympathy for white writers rather than stepping away from the facts on who gets published.

At the end of the meal, Deborah brought out copies of her books to give to us. I got the picture book, Freedom Summer but it felt odd accepting the gift, given the tensions of the evening. I think she was not aware of that tension. She ended the evening by praising my blog but the delivery of that praise had a distinct edge. She banged the table with her fist as she voiced that praise.

I hope that my being at that dinner with Deborah that evening and in the photograph she posted on Facebook aren't construed by anyone as an endorsement of her work. Yesterday, I went to the library to get a copy of Revolution, because, Deborah said she is working on a book that will be set in Sacramento, and, she said, it will include the Native occupation of Alcatraz. I want to see what her writing is like so that I can be an informed reader when her third book comes out.

Before going to the library, I looked online to see if there was a trailer for it. In doing that, I found a video of Deborah reading aloud at the National Book Award Finalists Reading event. Watching it, I was, again, stunned. She read aloud from chapter two. Before her reading, she told the audience what happened in chapter one. The white character, Sunny, is swimming in a public pool, at night. She touches something soft and warm, which turns out to be a black boy. She screams, he runs away. Then she and Gillette (another white character) take off too, but by then, the deputy is there. She tells him what happened. The last lines of that chapter are these (page 52):

There was a colored boy in our pool. A colored boy. And I touched him, my skin on his skin. I touched a colored boy. And then he ran away, like he was on fire.

As readers of AICL know, I keep children foremost in my mind when I analyze a book. In this case, how will a black child read and respond to those lines? And, what will Deborah think of my focus--right now--on that part of her book? I haven't read the whole book. No doubt, people who read AICL will be influenced by my pointing out that part of the book. Will Deborah think I am, like the people at Heavy Medal, "dangerous"?

Deborah said, above, that "Sometimes in our (collective) zeal to "get it right" we point at a problem that isn't there." She means the people who criticized her for Ray's voice in Revolution. The dinner and Deborah's remarks are the latest in a string of events in which people in positions of power object to "fervent" people. Jane Resh Thomas did it in a lecture at Hamline and Kate Gale did it in an article at Huffington Post.

I'll wind down by saying (again), that I've spent hours thinking about that dinner. It seemed--seems--important that I write about it for AICL. This essay is the outcome of those hours of thinking. I was uncomfortable then, and I'm uncomfortable now. I wanted to say more, then, but chose to be gracious, instead. I'm disappointed in my reluctance then, and now. I don't know where it emanates from. Why did I choose not to make a white writer uncomfortable? Is Deborah uncomfortable now, as she reads this? Are you (reader) uncomfortable? If so, why? Was Deborah worried about my comfort, then, or now? Does it matter?!

I can get lost in those questions, but must remember this: I do the work I do, not for a writer, but for the youth who will read the work of any given writer. For the ways it will help--or harm--a reader's self esteem or knowledge base.

The imagined audience for Revolution isn't an African American boy or girl. It is primarily a white reader, and, while the othering of "the colored boy" in chapter two may get dealt with later in the book, all readers have to wait. Recall the words of Anonymous, submitted to AICL as a comment about Martina Boone's Compulsion. They have broad application:

I find the idea of a reader -- particularly a child -- having to wait to see herself humanized an inherently problematic one. Yes, it might accurately reflect the inner journey many white people take, but isn't the point that our dehumanizing views were always wrong? And therefore, why go back and re-live them? Such ruminations could definitely be appropriate in an all-white anti-racist group, in which the point is for white people to educate each other, but any child can pick up a book, and be hurt--or validated--by what's inside. Asking marginalized readers to "wait" to be validated is an example of white dominance as perpetuated by well-intentioned white folks.

It is long past time for the industry to move past concerns over what--if anything--dominant voices lose when publishers actually choose to publish and promote minority voices over dominant ones. It is long past time to move past that old debate of who-can-write. Moving past that debate means I want to see publishers actually doing what Lasky feared so that more books by minority writers are actually published.  

In 1986, Walter Dean Myers wrote that he thought we (people of color) would "revolutionize" the publishing industry. We need a revolution, today, more than ever. Some, obviously, won't join this revolution. Some will see it as discriminatory against dominant voices but I choose to see it as responsive to children and the millions of mirrors that they need so that we reach a reality where the publishing houses and the books they publish look more like society. In this revolution, where will you be?

To close,  I'll do two things. First is a heartfelt thank you to Dr. Thomas Crisp at Georgia State University, for years of conversation about the state of children's literature, and, for assistance in writing and thinking through this essay. He was at that dinner in Atlanta. Second is a question for Deborah. Why did you want to meet me? Usually, when people want to meet me, there's a quality to the meeting that was missing from our dinner in Atlanta. There's usually a meaningful discussion of something I've said, or, about the issues in children's literature. That didn't happen in Atlanta. In the end, I am left wondering why you wanted to meet me.


Update, September 6, 2015

Several readers submitted comments. Please read them. They are quite thoughtful. Deborah Wiles submitted a comment, too. I am inserting it here, in the body of the original post, for your convenience.

Debbie Wiles said...

Hi, Debbie, I just want to say that I enjoyed meeting you on Tuesday evening, and was looking forward to it all day. I don't believe these are dangerous times to be publishing for young people, I don't believe writers are being censored by publishers in what they write (that's not my experience), and I do believe writers are getting published when they write outside their cultures. I did say that wielding power for personal gain can be dangerous, and that thoughtful, critical, informed discourse is important. My experience of the conversation was different from yours. We bounced around all over the place with different topics, weaving in and out. Everyone laughed a lot. I had a good time. I was glad to be included. I agreed with you that these are exciting times to be publishing! They are. I still think you should write the book about the Occupation of Alcatraz. My best, Debbie WilesSaturday, September 5, 2015 at 4:57:00 PM CDT

A similar conversation regarding this topic took place on Twitter yesterday. B. R. Sanders responded to it. Please read A Response to Colten Hibbs and Maggie Stiefvater on Writing the Other

And--if you're having trouble submitting a comment, you can send it directly to me and I'll post it on your behalf.


Update, September 6, 2015 - evening

Maggie Stiefvater wrote a response to the pushback she got on her post on writing the other. I highly recommend it.

An Indian headdress in WINNIE AND WALDORF by Kati Hites

I am always glad when people write to me about problems they see in children's books. In recent weeks I've heard from a few people about Winnie and Waldorf.  A picture book written and illustrated by Kati Hites, it was released on March 5th of this year by Harper, an imprint of HarperCollins.

School Library Journal's review says that "Families with dogs will see the humor in this mixed-media and digitally illustrated book; cat lovers will be shaking their heads in wonder."

Let's add... "People who find kids donning Indian headdresses will also be shaking their heads as they wonder when this sort of thing will end."

There's no reason for this:

Winnie wears that "formal attire" to her sister's violin concert. The feathers obscure the view, so this happens:

If that was a real headdress, nobody would do that to it. They carry a great deal of significance. They aren't playthings to handle in that way.

That headdress, as Winnie says, is her "most formal attire." In the story, she isn't playing Indian. It wouldn't make it ok if she was, I hasten to say, but there is a backstory for it, right? Hites had a backstory for having that item amongst the items Winnie uses to dress up. What is that backstory?!

Of course, Hites has an editor over at HarperCollins. I wonder who that person is? Did they talk about that headdress? I hope someone reads this post and shares it with Hites and her editor.


Update, April 2, 2015

The author, Kati Hites, submitted a comment to this review. As regular readers of AICL know, when an author submits a comment, I generally paste it into the blog post for the convenience of readers. I will respond later.

Dear Debbie Reese, 

I happened upon your article today; I would like to extend a personal apology for offending your culture- it was never my intention. I am especially saddened to realize the insensitivity (that I had missed while creating the book) as I am very protective of preserving folk customs within my own culture: I still go to traditional dance class every week, Hungarian folk singing, and volunteer in Hungarian Scouts. Growing up as a Hungarian American, my family put a lot of value in dressing up traditionally; 'széki szoknya' literally was my most formal attire. 

I was the happy owner of a whole wardrobe of traditional garment from a spectrum of cultures- from German to Japanese to, yes, Native American. Perhaps I had no business collecting these things, but I loved it anyway. I even dressed up my American friends in my Transylvanian skirts, and párta (which is the Hungarian headdress worn during weddings and ceremonies). Because very few Americans even know where Hungary is, I felt that it would have been exclusive and confusing to have her wearing a piece of clothing that most wouldn't recognize. I had indeed received a suggestion that she could be dressing up into fancy girly clothes in that scene... but that isn't true to who I am. I never liked wearing pink. I wasn't a sparkles, feather boas kind of gal. 

That being said, clearly I wouldn't like to further insult by denying my use of ironic humor throughout the entire book. That scene was an unfortunate attempt to further illustrate Winnie's unique perspective on things rather than an attempt to trivialize the significance of the headdress. Just as we could chuckle about her thinking that naughty Waldorf is the best friend a person can have, we could wonder at her unique opinions on other matters. 

I hope that in the future you give me the opportunity to show the genuine respect I feel for people who care and preserve and live tradition. A tree that has no roots cannot grow. I invite you to contact me about ideas on how to support the preservation of Native American traditions.

Sincerely,  

Kati Hites, debut author/illustrator

My response, on April 3, 2015:

Dear Kati,

Thank you for replying to my review. We're in the midst of intense interest in diversity. I wish you had used the Hungarian headdress.  Using it and including an author's note about it would have taught readers so much, expanding what they know about a people and culture they (as you note) might not know about. Maybe you can do that in a revision of the book? 

The default language used right now is "white" or "Caucasian" but within those labels, there is a lot of ethnic diversity, too. David Roediger's Working Toward Whiteness: How America's Immigrants Became White is an excellent study of, as his title says "how America's immigrants became White."

For you--or anyone--who wants to support Native peoples, you can talk with others about stereotypes in children's books, and you can read, recommend, and gift books by Native writers to children, young adults, parents, teachers, and donate them to school and classroom libraries. You can do what I suggested David Arnold do: talk with your editor about this review, so that this sort of problem isn't repeated in other books the editor is working on. 

You've got a blog. It'd be wonderful to see a post there, noting my review and sharing there, what you've shared here. Another place to share is Kurtis Scaletta's series on How to Fail.  

Again, thank you for commenting on my review of your book. 

Debbie

Open Letter to David Arnold, author of MOSQUITOLAND

Friday, March 13, 2015

Dear Mr. Arnold,

Thank you for responding to my critique of the "Cherokee" content in Mosquitoland.  No doubt, many people in children's literature are thinking well of you for what you said, but the conversation cannot end there.

With Mim and her "war paint," you--inadvertently--are doing what generations of Native people have fought against for hundreds of years.

Misrepresentations of Indigenous peoples are of such magnitude that, in 2008, the United Nations issued its Declaration of the Rights of Indigenous Peoples. There are studies of the harm that misrepresentations do to Native and non-Native youth. In 2005, the American Psychological Association issued a statement about stereotyping. Last year, the National Congress of American Indians issued a report on this matter (NCAI's first national campaign took place in 1968).

Yesterday (March 12 2015), I read the USA Today review of Mosquitoland. I trust you did, too. I hope you cringed at the lead. For those who didn't see the review, here's a screen capture of the opening lines:

See "slap on some war paint" in the first line of the review? That is what a major newspaper honed in on: "war paint' and how it can get you through the day. Let's look at what Mim does when she puts on her "war paint" (Kindle Locations 694-697):

I start with the left cheek, always. This habit is king, and it must be exactly the same, line for line. The first stroke is a two-sided arrow, the point of which touches the bridge of my nose. Then, a broad horizontal line across the forehead. The third stroke is an arrow on my right cheek, mirroring the first one. Next, a thick line down the middle of my face, from the top of my forehead to the bottom of my chin. And lastly, a dot inside both arrows.

Now let's look at the finished image, from the trailer for the book:

As you know, Mr. Arnold, people are praising Mosquitoland for its look at mental illness, medications, and Mim's perseverance.

Few people (in reviews or on social media), however, are talking about the stereotypical imagery you deployed for Mim's perseverance. That "war paint" gets her "through the day" (as the USA Today reporter said). Let's look at some of that "war paint" and how it is used to get fans through a game.

This is the mascot at Florida State:

This was the mascot at the University of Illinois. Though it is officially retired, fans continue to paint their faces in the ways that the mascot did:

Here's fans of the Cleveland baseball team:

Here's a fan of the Washington pro football team:

Those four individuals--and thousands of others--stood in front of a mirror, just like Mim did, and picked up the items they used for their "war paint" as they got ready to rally their team against a foe.

I suspect you had none of this in mind as you wrote those words above, describing how Mim puts on her "war paint" or when you and your fellow author (Jasmine Warga, the woman portraying Mim) worked on the trailer. I watched that trailer on your website. It is gone from there, now. I hope you took it down in response to my review. If that is why you took it down, I think I'm right in saying (above) that I hope you cringed as you read what the USA Today reviewer said about war paint.

The question is: what to do now?

In my response to your comment, I suggested that you talk with editors and other writers about stereotyping. Looks like you ought to add others to that list, too. I realize this is awkward. How does an author say "this was probably not a good idea" without hurting the sales of your book? I'm well aware that my criticism leads people to buy the book to see what you did for themselves, thereby elevating its sales, which suggests to the industry that people want MORE books like it.

We definitely need more books about the mental health of young people, but not ones like Mosquitoland that add to the problems of Native people, who--like those with mental health--are misunderstood and denigrated in far too many places.

Given the widespread praise of your book and the fact that you've sold your second book already, I think you actually have a secure platform from which to educate others about the problems in using tribal peoples as you did. You're getting requests for interviews; please use those interviews to educate your readers. I read that there is a possibility for Mosquitoland to become a movie. Please use whatever power you have to keep that stereotyping out of the script.

This, Mr. Arnold, is an opportunity to educate others.

Sincerely,
Debbie



Update, Saturday March 28 2015

This morning, Mr. Arnold submitted a reply via the comment option. I'm pasting his response here for the reader's convenience:

Dr. Reese,

Since reading your open letter, I’ve taken some time to listen and process. First, I assure you this conversation is not about book sales. In Mosquitoland, I wrote the best book I possibly could, and I am very proud of the outcome; whatever successes or failures I may have, my governing principles are always to be as honest and compassionate as possible.

You also suggest that I speak with editors and other writers about stereotyping—know that I’ve been doing just that. This process has led me to have conversations with those in my personal circle (my editor, my agent, my publisher) and other authors in our larger publishing community about a range of characters and backgrounds, discussing how we reach out to those communities we mean to portray in fiction.

While I would love to share my own intentions behind Mim’s actions, I do not believe it is the author’s place to discuss intention. Saying “see, what I meant by that…” is a slippery slope, one that robs readers of their own unique interpretations. As I mentioned in my previous response, our interpretations of Mim’s actions are quite different. That said, I think having dialogue is less about agreeing with everyone at the table, and more about a person’s desire to sit at the table to begin with.

Mim puts lipstick on her face and calls it war paint. Over the last few weeks, you have made me aware of how those actions might display harmful stereotypes of Native Americans. While that was certainly not my intention, I apologize for the impact it has had in reflecting those, or any, stereotypes. I could not agree more that a healthy portrayal of diverse characters and cultures is important in literature, and moving forward I hope my work contributes positively to that discussion.

David Arnold

As Mr. Arnold indicates, he is interested in dialogue. Here is my response:

March 30, 2015

Dear Mr. Arnold,

Again, thank you for replying. Your response is a visible effort to move forward in a way that informs people involved with children's and young adult literature. Right now, I want to focus on your conversations with people in the industry.

I am, of course, glad to know you're engaging key people in conversations about stereotyping. It so easily slips into speech and writing! Here's one example. A few weeks ago I started watching The Good Wife. In back-to-back episodes in the first season, I heard two phrases that are commonly used--but--problematic. One is "low man on the totem pole" and the other was "keep him on the reservation" (it is usually "he/she went off the reservation"). My guess is that nobody at that particular table knew those phrases rise from a space of ignorance or oppression of Native peoples. 

In the conversations you are having, my guess is that some people are encouraging you to ignore this whole thing. Some may be telling you that I (and others who take up the misrepresentation of Native peoples) need to "get a life" or "get over it." Your response tells me that you're not listening to them as much as you are to me, perhaps, but certainly those you trust, who--like you--also want to move forward in a positive way. 

It is labor intensive work. A few days ago, a librarian wrote to me asking for a reliable source for the Iroquois story of the Three Sisters (corn, beans, squash). I've spent hours searching. I've found a great many sources from the 1800s, but they're by people who were outsiders to Native communities. I've found sources from the 1900s, again by outsiders, who used other outsiders to vet the material. 

I view all of this as a lot of well-intentioned outsiders. To use the table metaphor, were there no seats at those tables for a Native voice? 

Are there seats for Native people at that table now? The one you are sitting at? Your response indicates that you are interested in dialogue, so, for you, the answer is yes.

Elsewhere, I've written that the seat-at-the-table metaphor doesn't work. Tables are owned by someone. Generally, they are in someone's house. As a guest at that table, there are generally rules that govern how the people at that table will interact. In this particular situation (children/YA lit), the house is major publishers and if we extend it out a bit, review journals. 

I'm thinking we ought not gather at that table. I'm thinking that it may be best to go for a walk outside where the sunshine and fresh air can help us all move forward as we have the dialogue we both seek. 

With whatever influence you have, I encourage you to push for more inclusive conversations. In this case, I refer to Native people. I hasten to add two things. One, be mindful of selecting beta readers. Two, remember that it is important that the people you talk with are well-versed in critical analysis. As Dan Snyder (owner of that Washington DC pro football team) has found out, you can find people who say they're Native (and they might be) but who have bought into the "honoring" of Native people regardless of the quality or context of the representation itself. 

One last thing: did you happen to read my post about Ben Esposito, the educational game developer who wanted to prove that I was wrong in my criticism of his game? Check it out. Kurtis Scaletta ran with the idea I proposed. See his How to Fail. Your willingness to have this conversation with me, coupled with the tremendous interest in the We Need Diverse Books campaign, makes me optimistic.   

Sincerely,
Debbie

David Arnold's Cherokee protagonist in MOSQUITOLAND

Note: Please scroll down to see David Arnold's response to this review. See Open Letter, too, which also has a response from David Arnold. 



Some weeks ago, I saw a screencapture (that's it to the right) from the video trailer for David Arnold's Mosquitoland. In it, his protagonist, Mim (her given name is Mary), is putting on her "war paint." (If you're unfamiliar with the book, read the synopsis for Mosquitoland at the author's website.)

About one third of the way into the book, we learn that Mim thinks of herself as Cherokee. Her mom, we learn, is the source of her Cherokee identity. In a letter to her aunt Isabel, Mim tells Isabel that her mom told her to (Kindle Location 1161)*:

“Have a vision, Mary, unclouded by fear.”

That, we read, is an old Cherokee proverb (Kindle Locations 1163-1164):

that her mom told her, and hers before that, and so on and so forth, all the way back to the original Cherokee woman who coined the phrase.

An old Cherokee proverb? Where, I wondered, did the author find that proverb? Why, and what, does he know about Cherokees? I did a search and found "Have a vision not clouded by fear" on several websites of "inspirational stories" and books of that genre. I've traced it to A Cherokee Feast of Days: Daily Meditations by Joyce Sequichie Hifler. She attributes the proverb to "a Cherokee leader." The title suggests that the meditations are Cherokee but some of them are from people of other tribal nations. Sometimes Hifler includes that nation, sometimes she doesn't. Did Arnold read Hifler's book, I wonder? Or did he find it elsewhere? If you're reading this, Mr. Arnold, please let us know.

Mim tells Isabel (in the letter) that she's so proud of her Cherokee heritage that she (Kindle Location 1166-1170):

started lying about the degree of Cherokee blood in my veins. I was something like one-sixteenth, but honestly, who wasn’t, right? So I claimed one quarter. It just sounded more legit. I was young, still in middle school, so I went with it the way kids that age do. The more admiration this garnered from teachers and friends, the closer I felt to my ancient ancestry, my kinswomen, my tribe. But the truth will out, as they say. In my case, this outing took on the sound of my mother’s unending laughter in the face of my principal, when he told her the school was going to present me with a plaque of merit at the next pep rally: the Native American Achievement Award. 

There's a lot to unpack in that passage. Mim clearly knows something about blood quantum, and "who wasn't, right?" tells us that she knows that a lot of people say they're Cherokee. So, she thinks it sounds "more legit" if she says she's "one quarter" rather than "one-sixteenth." That tells us that she is not, in fact, knowledgeable about Cherokee citizenship. Here's the fact: on the Cherokee Nation website's page about citizenship, the very first line is this:

Cherokee Nation citizenship does not require a specific blood quantum.

Mim is, in fact, one of the "who" in "who wasn't [part Cherokee], right?" She is one of the many who make that claim without knowing what it means.

Because her mom laughed at the principal when he wanted to present Mim with the Native American Achievement Award, my guess is that her mom is laughing at the principal and maybe Mim, too, for thinking Mim has Cherokee ancestry.

That Mim would feel close to her "ancient ancestry" suggests to me that she is operating with a romantic idea of "Cherokee" identity. She could have said Ojibwe. Or, Pueblo. The tribe itself doesn't matter. And why did her mom laugh? Was she laughing at the principal for thinking Mim had done something worthy of an award? Or was she laughing that the principal believed Mim's claim of one-quarter Cherokee blood?

Mim continues in her letter (Kindle Locations 1171-1173):

Needless to say, I never received the award. But even today, there are times— most notably when I wear my war paint— when I really feel that Cherokee blood coursing through my veins, no matter its percentage of purity. So from whatever minutia of my heart that pumps authentic Cherokee blood, I pass this phrase along to you: have a vision, unclouded by fear.

Her words tell us that she makes a connection between Cherokee blood and that phrase.  Cherokee blood and courage go together. Or as I said earlier, the Cherokee part doesn't matter. It could be a different tribe. It doesn't matter, because in her mind, Indians and courage and war paint go together.

Mim's letter continues (Kindle Locations 1174-1175):

Not sure what made me think of all this Cherokee stuff. Maybe it’s the plethora of cowboy hats and boots I’ve seen today. Politically correct? Probably not. BUT I’M ONE-SIXTEENTH CHEROKEE, SO SUCK IT.

I assume her "politically correct" question is there for someone who would say 'hold on there' to all that she's shared about her Cherokee identity. She seems to be wondering if what she shared is/is not "politically correct" but the capitalized text tells us that because she is 1/16 Cherokee, she can say whatever she wants. She closes her letter to Isabel by sharing another "Cherokee proverb" (Kindle Locations 1177-1178):

When you were born, you cried while the world rejoiced. Live your life so that when you die, the world cries while you rejoice.

I found that "proverb" in Who Will Cry When You Die by Robin Sharma. In that book, it is described as being an "Ancient Sanskrit saying." Sharma also describes it as something his father said to him. I don't find the phrase anywhere as something said by a Cherokee. So again, I wonder where David Arnold found that phrase? Surely he is aware that the Cherokee people do not speak Sanskrit (Sanskrit is an official language spoken in India).

Mim signs her letter as "Chieftess Iris Malone." Later, she calls herself a "War-Crazed Cherokee Chieftess." And then towards the end of the book she's in her mother's bedroom. She picks up the lipstick and wonders (Kindle Locations 3397-3403):

What would it be like if she walked in the room right now? If she found me painting my face like some politically incorrect Cherokee chieftess? What would I tell her? The truth, I hope. That in my longing for originality and relational honesty and a hundred other I-don’t-know-whats, this action, while strange and socially awkward, makes more sense than just about anything else in my world. And even though it’s cryptic and more than a little odd, sometimes cryptic and odd are better than lying down for the Man. Maybe I would tell her how the war paint helped get me through a time when I felt like no one else cared about what I wanted, or who I was. Maybe I could muster the courage to speak those words so few people are able to say: I don’t know why I do the things I do. It’s like that sometimes.

Mim knows that what she's been doing with the lipstick is not ok. She tells us that the war paint she does is cryptic and odd, but that it has helped her when she felt alone. Does the strength she gains from doing that justify it?

As I write, Arnold's Mosquitoland is listed as a bestseller in three categories at Amazon: Marriage and Divorce (in the teen category and the children's books category, too) and it is listed in the #2 spot for Depression & Mental Illness.

No doubt, its publisher, editor, and author are delighted. I would love to join them in that delight, but I can't. Arnold's book is touching the hearts of many readers, but it is also adding to, or affirming their misunderstandings of who Cherokee people are. Or, maybe they recognize that the Cherokee parts are not ok but they see something of themselves in Mim, so they're willing to look away from the Cherokee parts.

It is troubling to me that, in a book about young people who struggle with mental health, people are willing to look away from the problematic Cherokee parts in Mosquitoland. Would they do that if they knew that Native youth commit suicide at higher rates than any other group in the country? I am not saying books like Mosquitoland that misrepresent Native life are causes of suicide, but surely, misrepresentations don't help anyone feel good about themselves, do they?

In an interview about his book, the reporter asked him about criticism "from at least one Native American on Twitter" about the war paint. I assume the reporter had my earlier critique in mind. Arnold says that the criticism kept him up at night, but that he stands by the book, "for many reasons." Those reasons aren't included in the interview. He also says that:

"...in this broader conversation about diversity in literature, as a straight, white male, oftentimes it's going to be my role to sit down, to be quiet, to listen and to learn. If there are things I can learn from people I've offended, that's exactly what I want to do. I want to be a better writer and I want to be a more sensitive human. I'm completely willing to have these conversations, for sure. Mim makes a lot of questionable decisions, but across the board I felt the need to be completely authentic to her character."

What he says about being willing to have conversations is puzzling to me. On January 26, I tweeted at him:

I also tweeted this:

Soon after I sent those tweets, I was asked if he'd replied to me. I went to his Twitter page and saw this:

The tiny print says "You are blocked from following @roofbeam and viewing @roofbeam's Tweets." I was surprised. Why did he do that? Was it my use of "WTF" in that second tweet? Or, was it that there were two tweets? Or three? A couple of days later, I read @donalynbooks tweet (she praised Mosquitoland) and I tweeted at her (and Arnold), asking her if she had any thoughts on the warpaint in the book. She didn't reply.

I posted my initial post on Mosquitoland to my Facebook wall. Here's a sampling of the comments.

A Native poet said:

That "warpaint" idea is kind of appalling and creeped me out.

A Cherokee writer/storyteller said:

Sigh. Just once I wish they would pick on someone else!

A Cherokee librarian wrote:

slowly bangs head against desktop...

A Cherokee writer said:

Part Cherokee, huh? Which part?

I think any of those individuals, in addition to myself, would be interested in having that conversation you referenced in the interview, Mr. Arnold. I can't tweet this to you (because I'm blocked) but I trust that someone will share this post with you.

_________________

*I used the cut/paste option in Kindle for excerpts I used in this post. Each time I did it, an automatic citation was generated. Here is the citation: Arnold, David (2015-03-03). Mosquitoland. Penguin Young Readers Group. Kindle Edition.

See my post comparing review excerpts for Mosquitoland on the Amazon and Barnes and Noble websites. Amazon is selective in not-helpful ways.

The Cherokee Nation has a TV station online. Watch it and think about the people you meet there, versus the ones you read about in books like Mosquitoland. 

_____________________________

Update, March 9, 2015
David Arnold submitted a comment. For your convenience, I am pasting his comment here:

Hi Dr. Reese,

I appreciate your analysis of my novel; your honest, personal assessment has provoked reflection on my part, truly.

While writing Mosquitoland, my priority was the absolute authenticity of Mim’s character. In her own words, “Every great character, Iz, be it on page or screen, is multi-dimensional. The good guys aren’t all good, the bad guys aren’t all bad, and any character wholly one or the other shouldn’t exist at all. Remember this when I describe the antics that follow, for though I am not a villain, I am not immune to villainy.” Among other things, writing Mim was my attempt to embody the notion that a smart, self-reliant protagonist might make a slew of emotional leaps and questionable decisions over the course of a novel. As much as I would have loved to apply my own adult clarity to her blurred lens, I did not feel it was honest to her character to do so. 

When I read a book, the last thing I want is the author leaning over my shoulder, telling me all the things he or she meant. In turn, I balk at the idea of trying to explain my own intentions to readers. I will say that our interpretations of Mim’s reasoning—given the entire context of the book—are very different. I tried my best to walk the line of character authenticity and author responsibility; from reading your posts, it’s clear you believe I failed in this regard. I want you to know I hear you, and I appreciate your point of view.

Please know that your evaluation of my book has shed new light on some important issues for me, and moving forward, I will strive to be more aware.

David Arnold

Update: Monday, March 9 2015

Thank you, Mr. Arnold, for your response.

It reminds me of some of the conversations I've had elsewhere, like with Roger Sutton, about how a character is portrayed. With Roger, the discussion was about white children who were playing Indian. In a review I worked on for Horn Book years ago, I called that activity stereotypical. He disagreed--and disagrees--with my use of that word. Horn Book is more interested in "how well" an author develops something rather than what their character says or does. I think both are important, especially given the extreme whiteness of the industry in the past---and the present, too, and a concerted effort to address diversity in children's literature.

Mim is playing Indian. She is your creation. I think you had her doing that to accomplish a specific goal related to her emotions/emotional well-being. In that regard, you/she are a lot like the mascots created by white people. They suit a white person's purpose. They're a device. A means to a goal.

To you and the readers who are praising your novel, the means doesn't matter. To me and a lot of Native people, the means does, in fact, matter a great deal. In one of his poems, Simon Ortiz wrote that Indians sure are handy (to white people). Someday, that will end.

Perhaps you can help us bring that to an end, by engaging fellow writers in discussions about things like this. I imagine that you've already had conversations with your editor about it, and I hope you find a way to talk about it with others. I realize it is hard. It is, after all, your book. Your creation. As such, it is dear to you. Our kids, though, are dear to us. I hope you let that thought--of Native kids who may read this book, or will be treated in certain ways by others who read this book--foremost in your mind.

Debbie

Updates: March 13

I now have access to Mr. Arnold's page on Twitter.

I've written an open letter to Mr. Arnold, based on the USA Today's review of his book.

Francesca Lia Block apologized for Native stereotyping in WEETZIE BAT (but see update)

Editor's note: I added "but see update" to the title of this post because after reading Block's Teen Spirit the apology rang hollow.

On November 11, 2014, the We Need Diverse Books campaign hosted a twitter chat about LGBTQ literature. During that chat, Emily Campbell (@Ms_Librarian) tweeted that Francesca Lia Block's book, Baby Bebop, was important to her. She included Block in the tweet. I replied, saying "The Native content in her bks is stereotyping 101." Here's a screencap:

Campbell asked for more information, and I sent her a link to my analysis of Weetzie Bat. The next day, November 12, Block replied to me and Campbell, saying "No offense meant. My apologies. All respect for all." Here's that screencap:

I thanked her, saying "Most ppl mean well but lack awareness, esp of Native ppl & how culture is used/misused." Here's the screencap of that; I don't know why its font is larger than the others:

She replied again, saying "I would like to learn and grow, until I am no longer alive." And I thanked her again, saying "Your voice as ally pushing back on broad/deep misrepresentations of Native ppl is important." Here's the screencap of that exchange:

I don't know what, if anything, Francesca Lia Block has said or done about this since then. Most authors who respond to my critiques of their work are defensive. Her response was different, and I appreciate that, but I wonder if she's said anything more about my critique, elsewhere, to friends, perhaps?

Block's apology came up this morning in a tweet exchange I had with a colleague about Daniel Handler, the author of Lemony Snicket books who made several racist remarks last night (November 19) at the National Book Awards. He called them "ill conceived humor" in an apology he tweeted today (November 20). His remarks weren't "ill conceived." They were racist.

Block and Handler are key figures in children's and young adult literature. They are authors of best selling books. They could change a lot of hearts and minds if they'd say more than either has said so far.

Update, November 20

There I was (above) thinking well of Block and that exchange, feeling optimistic about her response and the possibilities for change. But then I heard from a colleague about her new book. It came out this year. The title, Teen Spirit. And the spirit? Cherokee.

How to interpret her apology, now?

Neal Shusterman and Michelle Knowlden's UNSTRUNG

In 2009, Neal Shusterman launched the first of his "Unwind Dystology" series. The first book is Unwind. Published by Simon and Schuster, here's the synopsis provided at Amazon:

In America after the Second Civil War, the Pro-Choice and Pro-Life armies came to an agreement: The Bill of Life states that human life may not be touched from the moment of conception until a child reaches the age of thirteen. Between the ages of thirteen and eighteen, however, a parent may choose to retroactively get rid of a child through a process called "unwinding." Unwinding ensures that the child's life doesn’t “technically” end by transplanting all the organs in the child's body to various recipients. Now a common and accepted practice in society, troublesome or unwanted teens are able to easily be unwound.
With breathtaking suspense, this book follows three teens who all become runaway Unwinds: Connor, a rebel whose parents have ordered his unwinding; Risa, a ward of the state who is to be unwound due to cost-cutting; and Lev, his parents' tenth child whose unwinding has been planned since birth as a religious tithing. As their paths intersect and lives hang in the balance, Shusterman examines serious moral issues in a way that will keep readers turning the pages to see if Connor, Risa, and Lev avoid meeting their untimely ends.

Unstrung: An Unwind Story came out in 2012. It is a short story. Here's what Amazon says about it:

How did Lev Calder move from an unwillingly escaped Tithe to a clapper? In this revealing short story, Neal Shusterman opens a window on Lev’s adventures between the time he left CyFi and showed up at the Graveyard.
Pulling elements from Neal Shusterman’s critically acclaimed Unwind and giving hints about what is to come in the riveting sequel, UnWholly, this short story is not to be missed.

As Unstrung opens, Lev is waking up after escaping from bad guys who were gonna do that unwinding thing to him. He's an AWOL. The place he ran to? A "rez" -- or, reservation. There, he figured he'd be safe. Indians of the future, it turns out, are exempt from unwinding. The family helping Lev recover is going to petition the Tribal Council to let him stay. As he opens his eyes, he seems a woman with a square jaw, black hair, and bronze skin. He blurts out

"SlotMonger!"

Lev is immediately embarrassed for using that word. See--in this future world Shusterman created, Indians aren't called Indians anymore. The woman responds (Note: I'm reading an ebook and can't give you page numbers):

"Old words die hard," she tells him with infinite understanding. "We were called Indians long after it was obvious we weren't from India. And 'Native American' was always a bit too condescending for my taste." 

"ChanceFolk," Lev says, hoping that his SlotMonger slur will quickly be forgotten.

"Yes," the woman says. "People of Chance. Of course the casinos are long gone, but I suppose the name still has enough resonance to stick." 

Dear! Well, that's not what I said when I read that part. If you're a regular reader of AICL, you know that sometimes, I curse at things I read.

Moving on...

The People of Chance family has a boy. He's three years older than Lev. His name is Wil. That's short for Chowilawu. We don't know what language that is, or what tribe these people belong to. Later on, we do get some clues about their location, though! They're in what we know today as Colorado, and they live in an incredibly opulent city with cliff dwellings on the canyon sides.

Do you know who lived at Mesa Verde? Chaco Canyon? Bandelier? Pueblo people! So, I take it that the People of Chance are somehow based on Pueblo Indians. Yikes!

Let's meet Wil.

Wil has a gift. When he plays his guitar, who or whatever hears his music, is transfixed. Just Wil's presence can calm people. But that guitar playing... well, it is such a gift that he/it is used to help the dying tribal members transition more easily into death itself. Wil doesn't like that gift, because his grandfather is dying. The people expect him to go play for his grandpa but he doesn't want to. When the story opens, Wil plays his guitar for Lev. He does that by sitting cross-legged on a mountain lion skin. Yep. Cross-legged. Cuz why?! (Answer: Indians sit cross-legged. You learned that at camp, right? Or maybe kindergarten? Or maybe your teacher knew better than to introduce that stereotype to you.)

Lev recovers a bit, and he and Wil go out into the city. Lev has a question:

"Is it true that reservations are safe for AWOLs?" he asks. "Is it true that People of Chance don't unwind?"
Wil nods. "We never signed the Unwind Accord. So not only don't we unwind, we also can't use unwound parts."
Lev mulls that over, baffled at how a society could work without harvesting organs. "So...where do you get parts?"
"Nature provides," Wil says. "Sometimes."

Nature provides! How does that work, you might wonder? Meet Wil's uncle, Pivane. Wil introduces Lev to him. He's wearing deerskins, but he's also got a Swiss watch on. And, Lev thinks, his rifle is probably custom-made. Pivane has been out hunting for a mountain lion. They need the heart of a male mountain lion. Pivane thinks they'll find one at Cash Out Gulch. (Reading "Cash Out Gulch" was another WTF moment for me.)

Here's where we get a picture of this place where the People of Chance live:

...red cliff homes, the whitewashed adobes, and the sidewalks of rich mahogany planks. Although the place appears at first to be primitive, Lev knows upper crust when he sees it, from the luxury cars parked on the side streets to the gold plaques embedded in the adobe walls. Men and women wear business suits that are clearly Chance-Folk in style, yet finer than the best designer fashions."

Lev asks Wil what the people do (for a living) and Wil says:

"When my grandfather was a kid, the rez made a bundle--not just from gaming, but from some lawsuits over land usage, a water treatment plant, a wind farm that went haywire, and casinos we didn't want but got stuck with when another tribe rolled on us." He shrugs uncomfortably. "Luck of the draw. We've got it better than some tribes."

Lev looks down the street, where the curbs gleam with gold. "Way better, by the look of it."

"Yah," says Wil, looking both embarrassed and proud at the same time. "Some tribes did wise investing with their casino cash; others squandered it. Then, when the virtual casinos got ritzier than the real ones and it all came crashing down, tribes like ours did very well. We're a Hi-Rez. You're lucky you didn't jump the wall of a Low-Rez. They're much more likely to sell AWOLs to parts pirates."

Lev has heard about the rich tribes and the poor ones. Wil continues:

"Anyway," says Wil, "my tribe knows the law and how to use it. In fact my dad's a lawyer, and has done pretty well for our family. My mom runs the pediatrics lodge in the medical warren and is well respected. We get rich tribal kids from all over North America coming here for healing."

I was doing a lot of eye rolling and cursing as I read all of that! I certainly want writers to move away from narrow depictions of the professions Native people are in, but the rest of what Shusterman did is so bad that I can't give the lawyer-dad or doctor-mom characters a good read! Let's back up, though to that info about how the People of Chance tribe (I wonder what the Lo-Rez tribe names are?!) got their money: casinos, and good lawyers. I'm wondering about Shusterman's source material for all that lawyering. Where is he from? Is he living nearby a tribal nation that has been successfully winning legal cases over water rights? Or wind farms? Is he from Massachusetts? In 2011, the Wampanoag Tribe of Gay Head filed a lawsuit over a wind farm project off Cape Cod. The For Mojave Indian tribe sued a California agency over a water treatment plant that was desecrating sacred land. I'm guessing that Shusterman did some research and found these news stories. And as the wealth of the People of Chance indicates, they won big time! Doesn't matter, I suppose, that those two particular tribal nations are at opposite ends of the country. With a made-up nation, you can do whatever you want!

Well, let's move on. The People of Chance have animal spirit guides. If/when they're sick, that particular animal can be killed and its body part(s) used to heal the human. Do you recall that Pivane is looking for the heart of a mountain lion? A mountain lion is the spirit guide of Wil's grandfather. His heart is bad. He needs a new one. Pavine finds one, but Wil's grandfather wants to give it to a young woman who needs it more than he does. Wil argues with him about that decision. But guess what! Lev gets asked for advice. Outsiders have perspectives, you see, that can help people make important decisions. Lev's advice is to respect the wishes of Wil's grandpa. Such wisdom from the white outsider! Of course, the heart goes to the woman, and Wil's grandpa dies.

Wil is gonna die, too. No... that's not right. He's going to be killed. No... that's not right either...

Wil has taken Lev and a bunch of kids out on a vision quest to find their spirit guides. Some of those parts pirates have gotten over the rez wall, too. Turns out, there's a black market for People of Chance body parts because they have special skills. To save the children, Wil takes out that guitar and demonstrates his gift. He bargains with the parts pirates. They take him and let the children go. I gotta say... this is so unsettling. Does Shusterman know Native bodies were butchered and parts taken from them as trophies? Has he not read about Sand Creek?! How 'bout his editor? Does he/she know? Do they know and not care? Or maybe they don't imagine Native people as readers of Unstrung?

Well. Towards the end of the story, the tribal council denies the petition to adopt Lev. He leaves. And what about Wil? We find him again, on a surgical table. A woman with a slight British accent tells him:

"We have been searching for the right Person of Chance for a very long time. You will be part of a spectacular experiment. One that will change the future." 

Pretty sick, isn't it? In the end, Wil's family and girlfriend find out that he's been unwound...

Not through smoke signals.
Not through the intricate legal investigations of the Council.
Not through the tribal nations' security task force, put in place after the parts pirates took him.
In the end, the rez finds out Wil is no more when his guitar is delivered with no note and no return address. 

Another WTF. Smoke signals?! Mr. Shusterman: this is a very messed up story. I regret having read it.

Update, September 28, 7:48 PM

Mr. Shusterman submitted the following comment. As has been the case with previous authors who respond to a review I've done on AICL, I'm adding the response to the body of the blog post to allow readers to more easily read the response. Mr. Shusterman said:

I wanted to personally apologize for anything in UnStrung that you found offensive. Both Michelle Knowlden and I wanted you to know that in writing the story we took great cares to be respectful, and sensitive. We also were wary of “political correctness,” which is just as offensive as stereotypes.

The story takes place in a dystopian future – and we were attempting to extrapolate where one tribe might find themselves within that exaggerated dystopian world. It could not be immune to the dark turn society has taken. Our take was that this particular tribe had become affluent, and increasingly isolationist – to protect itself ideologically from the rest of America, which had become a pretty unpleasant place. We tried to take tradition, and marry it to futurism. We actively worked to shatter stereotypes, breaking them open to show something real, and honest.

Huge amount of thought went into every choice, so to be called out for insensitivity warrants the opening of a dialogue. I have a reputation for being culturally fair, and on-target in my books – so if I’ve missed the mark here, it’s important to me to know how, and how to improve it.

I do want to point out that some things you found were stretches. A kid sitting cross-legged on the floor was just a kid sitting cross-legged on the floor. That’s how my daughter plays guiter, so that’s where that came from. It was not a racial stereotype.

It’s important to note that socially and culturally, American Indians are the heroes of the story. They are the only cultural group that collectively fights against the heinous practice of Unwinding, and maintains a high moral and ethical bar, that the rest of society has lost. The entire book series, in fact, hinges on their action in the face of a world mired in inaction.

UnStrung will be rewritten for inclusion in a collection of novellas in the Unwind world. We would love to discuss with you what changes will make it not only more palatable, but a positive experience for Indian readers. I can be reached at storymanweb@gmail.com. Thank you.

Debbie's response:

Mr. Shusterman,

Thank you for responding to my concerns. I am traveling this week and next and can't give your comment the attention it deserves. A quick note for now: I read a lot of children's and young adult books with Native characters. You'd be surprised, perhaps, to know how many of them sit cross-legged. Other characters in the book don't. They just sit. How they sit isn't generally noted. More, later, when I've had time to think about your comments. 

Update, Tuesday, Sept 30 2014

My review reflects my incredulous reaction as I read your book. You said it is important to know how you missed the mark, and how you can improve the story. I hope you'll find time to go back and re-read my review. I think I've clearly laid out examples in which you've missed the mark.

It is the overall premise, however, that is deeply flawed. You said that (quoting from your comment),

"American Indians are the heroes of the story... They maintain a high moral and ethical bar... The entire book series, in fact, hinges on their action..."

See that? You think you've done a good thing, making American Indians the heroes. You meant well... You are just like all those people/places/organizations that use American Indian something-or-other as an ideal to strive for. Big case in the news right now is the Dan Snyder, owner of the Washington DC pro football team. Are you following that at all? From my perspective, you sound an awful lot like Dan Snyder and you sound like a thousand people who've told me and other Native people "but you don't understand. I'm trying to honor you."

In her excellent piece for writers, Cynthia Leitich Smith posed a few questions that authors can use when reflecting on the Native characters they create. I'm modifying them a bit:

Is Wil a magical character? My answer: Yes, he has a musical gift. It is so magical that it will be taken from him to serve the greater good. Who is taking it? A British/American surgeon.

Does Wil die first? My answer: Yes. Lev lives on. Wil does not.

Are Wil's people the model minority? My answer: Yes. This is a bit more nuanced, but they've had great success economically and professionally.

Does his heritage inform his character?  My answer: Yes, and a bit complicated because his heritage is your creation and rests on stereotypical ways of thinking about Native peoples. It is, in other words, an outsider's take on Native culture, so it is hard for me to say that his heritage is, in fact, Native. It isn't. In her post, Smith also asks if non-Native readers will notice problems like this. Her answer is, "maybe." Mine? From what I've seen online, nobody noticed. Smith asks if Native readers will notice. My answer: Not necessarily, but most of them will. I think a good many Native readers will do a WTF. In fact, Native people with whom I've shared the review are also expressing incredulity.

What will your readers think of Wil and his people? My answer: Most of your readers will (and do) love Wil and his people. In her post, Smith goes on to say that sometimes, writers "get so wrapped up in our own intent, however benevolent, that we forget to consider impact." Clearly, you meant well. You had good intentions. But the impact of those good intentions? You're using your conception of Native people to save the world. In so doing, you affirm stereotypical ideas that are already deeply embedded in the world.


What did you read prior to creating this tribe and people? Your turn. What did you read? And, I invite your answers to the question above, too. I know you're doing a Q&A at Goodreads this week and may not have time to come back to AICL for the dialog you asked me for, but I do hope you come back as soon as you can. Your fellow writers, and my fellow reviewers, can gain a great deal by reading our dialog.



Update, Saturday, October 4, 2014

Neal Shusterman's reply, submitted at 11:05 PM October 3 2013:

Debbie – thank you for your detailed response. I appreciate the time you took to really analyze the story. Cynthia Leitich Smith’s questions are right on target.

Perhaps I overstated it when I said that the Indians are the heroes of the book series. The Indian characters are as flawed as everyone else, and struggle with their own moral dilemmas and ethical demons. I do not feel that any of my characters are stereotypes, regardless of their cultural background. As a group, the fictional tribe in the book makes both poor decisions, and good decisions. Ultimately they are one of many factors that changes the world for the better by the end of the book series. 

I do need to emphasize the fictional nature of the tribe. It is not intended to reflect current Indian culture. It is an exaggeration seen through a very specific future lens, just like every other culture portrayed in the book. Everything is painted in unsettling shades of gray -- the reader is supposed to have mixed feelings about everything and everyone. We should see the best and the worst of ourselves in the characters, and cultures.

You mentioned that other people had the same reaction you did when they read your review. I imagine so. A review is like the prosecution’s case in a trial. It’s all very cut and dry if you don’t hear the defense. The defense is the actual work, and I stand behind my work. That said, there are some things I would, and will change, however, and I thank you for bringing it to my attention.