NOT RECOMMENDED: BACK IN THE BEFORETIME. TALES OF THE CALIFORNIA INDIANS by Jane Louise Curry

A reader wrote to ask if I've read Back in the Beforetime: Tales of the California Indians by Jane Louise Curry. 

The answer? I had not, but the reader's question prompted me to take a look. 

It came out in 1987 from Margaret K. McElderry Books and again in 2001 from Aladdin. It is written  by a person who (as far as I can tell) is not Native.  Back in the Beforetime is one of several books Jane Louise Curry has written about Native peoples. I was able to get an electronic copy of her book. The first thing I do when taking a critical look at a book is to see if there's an Author's Note. There is one in this book. Reading it, I was pretty sure I would not recommend the book. Let me show you what I mean. 

The first sentence of the note starts with "The Indian tales." That word -- tales -- is familiar. You see it with "folk" and "fairy" and "tall" but you rarely see it used with Bible stories. In my work, I've come to see that as a problem. Many "tales" are creation stories considered sacred to the people who tell them, but their stories aren't treated with the same respect given to Bible stories. You don't see Bible stories categorized or shelved as folktales. As I read further, would I find a lack of respect in Back in the Beforetime?

Let's see. The first sentence in its entirety is:

The Indian tales of Back in the Beforetime come from a number of California tribes, from the Klamath River region in the north to the inland desert mountains and the southern coastlands. 

Here's the second one:

In reading through the many tales and fragments of tales recorded during the past century, I chose first those legends which could be woven together to tell the larger tale of Creation from the making of the world to man's rise to lordship over the animals, and then a selection of comic or trickster folktales which seemed to fit happily within that framework.

Hmmm. There's a lot to respond to in that sentence. "Lordship over the animals" sticks out and feels very white to me. And where, I wonder, was she finding these "tales and fragments of tales"? Reading to the end of the note, I don't see a list of her sources. That's important information. Knowing them would help us a lot. Her sources are likely ones collected by white people who had no idea what they were doing when they looked upon Native ways. Their lack of knowing meant their account is a misrepresentation of what was going on. The second part of that sentence tells us she chose legends that "could be woven together" to tell what she calls "the larger tale of Creation." What she did, when she wove some together, is a huge red flag. Why? Because she assumes that all these tribes are the same in how they think about the world. Many writers do that. They take something from one tribal nation's stories and then take something from a different one, and put them together as if that's fine. I don't think it is fine, particularly when books will be used in classrooms to teach children about Native peoples. In fact, anybody who reads the book is being miseducated. 

Third sentence:

In several instances, where a story was incomplete or lacking in detail which could be found in a second version from the same or another tribe, I have told a composite tale.

See? She says right there that she pulled from several places (that she must assume are accurate) to create a "composite" tale. You might be thinking that I've being harsh. You might be thinking that Curry and her editor and others who did the same thing didn't know better. That they had good intentions. We can assume ignorance and good intentions but the product is still deeply flawed. The book came out in 1987. By then there were many people writing about misrepresentations. As far back as 1829, Native people were objecting! Take a look at William Apes (Pequot) on Depictions of Native People in Stories. Many people defend what an author does by saying that nobody spoke up, then, and that it is unfair to challenge the author. People say that about Gone With the Wind but when the movie came out, African Americans protested at a theater in 1940. The New York Times article has photos of the protest. My point is that the author and editor may not have known they were publishing a flawed product--but that doesn't mean people weren't objecting. What anyone knows is shaped by who they know and what they read. 

Back to Curry's note. In paragraph two, sentence one:

Several of the California tribes are represented in Back in the Beforetime by more than one tale, and many by none.

Reading that sentence, I thought that when I read the stories in her book, I'd see names of specific tribal nations. Some would be mentioned more than once because "more than one tale" was from one tribe. That was not the case. Here's the table of contents:

See? Titles of stories, but no tribally specific information. Is there some with each story? Easy enough to check. I turned to the first one: 

There is no tribal nation mentioned after the title, and as I read the story, I didn't find one there, either. On the last page of that story, I see that after having created Grizzly Bear, "Old Man" was afraid of him So, Old Man retreated to his ice mountain and began to "hollow it out for a teepee." A teepee? I wonder about that because I associate tipis with Plains Indians. Curry finishes the story by telling us that the animal people Old Man created never saw him again, but sometimes, they'd see smoke coming from "the smokehole of the white teepee mountain and knew he was still there. They called his mountain Shasta. And so do we, for it is still is there." (Note: I am tempted to go down a rabbit hole wherein I search for "Old Man" and "Shasta" to see if I can find the source for Curry's story. I may do that later.) 

In the second paragraph of the Author's Note, the second sentence is:

Being a storyteller rather than a folklorist, I have not sought to make a representative collection, but one which will offer to readers or to a storyteller's audience entertaining tales that can both stand alone and give some sense of what the context of a single story might have been within a tribe's traditional body of tales.

Entertaining? Ok. Stories do that, but within an educational context, the goal is education. Learning. Understanding. When the stories are about Native peoples, it is crucial that they be specific to a tribe. Without specificity, we all fall into stereotypical chasms that suggest all Native peoples are the same. We're not. 

Next is the third paragraph. First sentence:

Many California tribes have dwindled or vanished. 

Too many books use that sort of language. "Vanish" is especially outrageous. It means to disappear suddenly, without a trace. That's not what happened. Things don't just happen.  Colonization, invasions, killings, removals... that's what happened, over a period of time. Native people fought back. There's more to say about that style of writing but I'll move on to the next sentences.

Others still struggle to preserve their traditions and holy places in a world of change. Of some, little trace is left but their tales, recorded long ago by folklorists and anthropologists.

Part of that "struggle" involves pushing back on misrepresentation that started with those long ago recordings. We could insert "white" in front of folklorists and anthropologists but unless you've studied how they got it wrong, inserting white doesn't help much. 

The last sentence in the Author's Note:

For us their tales of the Animal People, in whom animal and human natures are mingled, are both comic and poignant, reminding us that once there was a time when Man was more fully at home in the natural world.

Comic? As in funny? Amusing? Ludicrous? Ridiculous? The author is definitely making a judgment that bothers me. But I remind myself that her sources may have that quality in them --- because the folklorist or anthropologist got things wrong. 

That's the end of the author's note. And from what I've seen, my earlier thought that I'd not be recommending the book stands. I do not recommend Back in the Beforetime. 

I encourage you to stop using it in your classrooms. And as always, if something I've said doesn't make sense or if you want me to say more, let me know in the comments.

Debbie--have you seen ALONE by Megan E. Freeman?

A reader submitted a comment to my open letter to Kate DiCamillo about Island of the Blue Dolphins, asking if I've seen Alone by Megan E. Freeman. 

Freeman's book refers to Island of the Blue Dolphins. I haven't seen it, but am glad to know about the book and plan to get a copy as soon as I can. 

Debbie--have you seen TREE IN THE TRAIL or PADDLE-TO-THE-SEA by Holling Clancy Holling?

Every once in awhile I get an email or comment asking if I've seen a book by Holling Clancy Holling. It might be Tree in the Trail (published in 1942) but more often, people ask about Paddle-to-the-Sea. It came out in 1941 and won a Caldecott Honor. 

Can a book with Native content, published 80+ years ago, be used in classrooms today?

This post is intended to help teachers (or anyone who is considering a book's Native content) make a decision about the book they're considering. 

First, what is your goal? I'm going to assume that you're trying to provide children with stories that accurately depict Native peoples. That means providing the name of a specific nation. That means a story that is tribally specific. If it is about an "Indian" or "American Indian" or "Native American" or "Indigenous" character, that story is not tribally specific and there's likely to be a hodgepodge of content that is not educational. An example of a hodgepodge is a story about an Indian who lives in a tipi and next to it, a totem pole. 

Second, who is the author? If you're trying to give students an authentic story, it is important to know if the author is of the particular Native Nation or community the story is about. If they are not and if they did not live there, what are their sources for creating the story? Sometimes you'll find that information in an author's note, but older books generally do not include that information. 

Let's use Paddle-to-the-Sea to answer these questions. 

Holling Clancy Holling wrote and illustrated Paddle-to-the-Sea. He is not Native. Now let's look at his book. 

Chapter 1 is "How Paddle-to-the-Sea Came To Be." The first sentence is "The Canadian wilderness was white with snow." The second paragraph begins with sounds. Here's the rest of that paragraph: 

'Geese! cried the Indian boy standing in the door of the cabin. 'They come back too soon. I must hurry to finish my Paddle Person!'

"the Indian" is all we're told about him. We are not told the name of his Tribal Nation or community. We do learn that the "Paddle Person" he is making is an Indian he's named Paddle-to-the-Sea. The carved Indian is placed in a foot-long birchbark canoe the Indian boy has made. It is then placed on a snow bank. When "Sun Spirit" shines on it, it will melt and be carried to a river, and then to the Great Lakes, on adventures the boy wold like to have. The rest of the book is about its travels. 

We're given a name for the sun: "Sun Spirit." With the word "Spirit" in there, it takes on something that sounds like it is part of a Native peoples' spiritual teachings, but is it? 

I see that there are curricular materials available. The book has appeal because of the Great Lakes. It provides teachers with a way to teach science. 

But should it be used that way when we know the Native content is not tribally specific? My answer to that question is no. What do you think? 

Debbie--have you seen SWIFT ARROW by Josephine Cunnington Edwards?

Some time back, a reader wrote to ask if I had read Swift Arrow by Josephine Cunnington Edwards. It was published in 1997 by a publisher I was unfamiliar with: "TEACH Services." On their website is a page about their history. A paragraph from there:

On January 1, 1984, a small home in Harrisville, New Hampshire, became the maiden office of TEACH Services, Inc. The mission of the newly formed publishing company was to encourage and strengthen individuals around the world through the distribution of books that point readers to Christ. 

I see, there, that the author was a missionary to Africa. And here's a description of the book: 

Colored leaves, red, yellow, and brown, fluttered past George as he rode behind Woonsak in the long string of Indians and ponies. They were riding north and moving quickly. So many Indians moved along the path that George, who rode near the front of the line, could not see the end when he turned around to look. The farther they went, the more unhappy George became. For with every step, Neko (his faithful pony) took him farther and farther from his home and from Ma and Pa. Even the fluttering leaves seemed like little hands waving good-bye all the day long. So begins chapter seven of this beloved classic by Josephine Cunnington Edwards. George, a young pioneer boy is captured by Indians and raised as the son of a mighty chief. He spends his time learning the ways of these native Americans, and yearning for the day that he might find a way to return to his loving family.

The TEACH website offers a preview of the book. That same preview is available in Google Books. Historical fiction often has biased and anti-Indigenous words, so I sometimes do a search (that's an option in Google Books) on a particular word to see how it is used in the book. In Swift Arrow, I found:

"squaw" -- 20 times

"squaws" -- 18 times

"paleface" -- 13 times

"brave" (as word for male) -- 12 times

"papoose" -- 11 times

"redskins" -- 4 times

"firewater" -- 3 times

"savages" -- 2 times 

I also looked for the word "dance" to see how it is used. Classic and award-winning books often include deeply offensive depictions of what they call Indian dance/dancing. In Swift Arrow, George watches "several warriors" jump into the middle of a circle and begin "a strange dance" where they leap into the air, and howl. Then, "several more braves" jumped into the circle. As George goes to sleep, he listens to the "howling" and thinks about this "savage life." You see that sort of description in Little House on the Prairie, and Sign of the Beaver, and Touching Spirit Bear. 

As the description above notes, George gets captured by Indians. When he arrives at the village, a few "squaws" pointed at him and "a few reached up dirty hands to touch his light face and run their fingers through his curly hair." There's a lot to say about that particular scene but I draw your attention to the word "dirty." It is also commonly used in historical fiction, as if being dirty is a way of life for Native people. It wasn't. 

As I look at reviews, etc., I see that their chief, "Big Wolf" plans to make George--who is now called Swift Arrow--his son and future chief of the tribe. That sort of thing is seen in many works of historical fiction. An authority figure (in this case "Big Wolf") is choosing a white captive for a significant role in the tribe. Those storylines are examples of white supremacy. Knowing that the author was a missionary, it does not surprise me that she created that particular plot. 

If I decide to order the book I'll be back with a more in-depth review but right now, I am confident in saying that I would not recommend it. I wish this book was an outlier but I think the questions I've received about it point to it being used more and more within politically conservative spaces. 

 

Debbie--have you seen YOSSEL'S JOURNEY by Kathryn Lasky?

A reader emailed to ask if I've seen Yossel's Journey by Kathryn Lasky. Published by Charlesbridge, it is due out in September of 2022. Here's what I've found so far (I don't have the book but will look for it:) 

Here's the book description from the book's page at Charlesbridge:

When Yossel’s family flees anti-Jewish pogroms in Russia and immigrates to the American Southwest, he worries about making a new home and new friends.

In his family's new store next to the Navajo reservation, Yossel watches their neighbors pass through. He learns lots of words, but he's still too afraid and lonely to try talking to anyone. Making new friends is hard, especially when all your jokes are in a different language. 

A historical picture book about the power of cross-cultural friendships and the joy of finding out the true meaning of home.

The description centers one family but makes no mention of the Navajo child Yossel becomes friends with. His name is Thomas. The story is from Yossel's point of view but I wish the description from Charlesbridge didn't leave out Thomas's name. It is a missed opportunity to nudge readers from the amorphous image of Native people that they likely hold. 

I see reviews from Publishers Weekly and from Kirkus. Both are mostly favorable but these lines stand out. The reviewer at Publisher's Weekly said 

"An author's note and further reading conclude but elide discussion of the government's displacement of Navajo people." 

The reviewer at Kirkus said 

"Given Yossel's history as someone forced to flee his home due to ethnic violence, it's a surprise to see none of the parallel story for Thomas (during roughly the time of the forced deportation of the Navajo by the U.S. government). Instead this is a pleasing, sun-drenched tale of friendship in a new place." 

Over on the Charlesbridge page you can see some interior pages and a review from the Jewish Book Council that tells us the story doesn't have "heavy-handed statements about brotherhood." I'm glad to know it doesn't do that! I've reviewed some of those historical friendship stories and have yet to read one that works. 

One of the interior pages tells us that Yossel and his family are going "near a Navajo Indian Reservation. It is called Two Red Hills." a reservation called "Two Red Hills." Is that a real place? I'm going to talk to Navajo friends and colleagues about that. I know for certain that Jewish people had stores on reservations, so, that part of Lasky's story is based on fact. But is there a Two Red Hills reservation? Editing on August 17 to say that I got a copy of the book and that the author's note states the location is fictional. I added the quote and strike thru at the start of this paragraph today when I got a copy of the book.  

I'm glad to see reviewers noting the omission of Navajo history. As noted, the story is from Yossel's point of view and it likely seems clunky to try to work the Navajo history into the story itself, but I think the reviewers are correct in pointing out the problems of leaving out Navajo history when the entire story is launched due to persecution of a family that ends up on homelands of the Navajo Nation and its people. 

I'll see if I can order the book from a local library and I'll be back with a review.

Debbie--have you seen THE ENCHANTED PEOPLE by Jennifer Pool

I'm trying to catch up! I admit--it will never happen but I can try! One of the things I enjoy are the emails from people who ask me if I've seen this or that book. 

I could do a string of "Debbie--have you seen" posts... but I'll do this one, for now.

A reader wrote to ask if I've seen The Enchanted People by Jennifer Pool. The author's name is unfamiliar to me. Published in 2021 by Guernica, it is proving to be a bit of a puzzle. When I looked up the title, I easily found it on Amazon. There, the description said this:

The Enchanted People is a humanitarian fairytale about a young girl named Wawatay who lives away from her village as an outcast because she is different. All the people in her village have an enchanted power except for her, and so, she is not accepted by them. While living in solitude, Wawatay finds an injured baby sparrow and begins to care for her despite ridicule and discouragement from her people. When Baby Bird grows up and asks Wawatay to teach her to fly, Wawatay embarks on a journey across the Earth to seek help from her animal friends and learn the secret to flying. Along the way, Wawatay discovers a secret about herself ― she has an enchanted power after all. She must decide if she will use it to help save her animal friends and plead with her people to change their habits ― which are destroying Mother Earth ― or if she will continue to stay away in fear. Readers may also discover a secret from this book: just like the first Enchanted People to walk the earth, each of us is born with unique gifts. Are you using your powers for good?

The main character's name is "Wawatay" which sounds like it might be a Native name. I scrolled down on the page and saw a "From the Back Cover" paragraph that says this:

Wind Among Grasses is an indigenous folktale about a Cherokee girl named Wind, who lives as an outcast because she is different; all the people in her village have a great power except for her. While living in solitude, Wind finds an injured baby sparrow and begins to care for it despite ridicule and discouragement from her people. When Baby Bird grows up and asks Wind to teach her to fly, Wind embarks on a journey around the world to consult with animal friends about the secret to flying. Along the way, Wind discovers a secret about herself: she has a special power after all. She must decide if she can use it to help her people who are endangering her animal friends and destroying mother earth. Readers may also discover their own secret in this book: everyone has a unique power that can be used to help the earth. Are you using your powers for good?

Interesting, isn't it?

• The Enchanted People is "a humanitarian folktale."
• Wind Among Grasses is "an indigenous folktale about a Cherokee girl"

And, 

• In The Enchanted People, the character's name is Wawatay. 
• In Wind Among Grasses, her name is Wind.

The rest is pretty much the same. 

I also found the book in Google Books but the book cover is for Wind Among Grasses instead of The Enchanted People. 

So--we've got an odd set of information to puzzle through! I poked around online and think that Wawatay might be an Anishinaabe word that means Northern Lights. So... is it an Anishinaabe word? Is this an Anishinaabe story? Or is it a Cherokee one?! Did the publisher goof in releasing info about Wind Among Grasses on the back cover? Did the author write the two descriptions above, for two different books? Or is The Enchanted People a revised version of Wind Among Grasses?

My local library doesn't have The Enchanted People. As far as I can tell, the author isn't Native, so I'm not going to purchase a copy of the book. The references to enchanted, and powers, and gifts... it all makes me wary. The story feels a bit fanciful in the ways that white writers are when they write stories like this. But I'll keep an eye out for it. Have you read it? What did you think? 

  

Debbie--have you seen Whitney Sanderson's GOLDEN SUN, (#5 in the Horse Diaries series)?

A reader wrote to ask if I've read Whitney Sanderson's Golden Sun. Published in 2010, it is part of the Horse Diaries series published by Random House Books for Young Readers. The books are historical fiction, told from the point of view of horses.

There are, I think, 16 books in the series. 

#16 is Penny, "a blue-eyed palomino paint" who, with a boy named Jesse, search for gold in California. Gold rush stories are -- to many readers -- exciting. They seem to line up with the "American dream" of success by way of hard work. What is left out or not even considered, is the life of Native peoples whose homelands existed for thousands of years before arrival of Europeans who were seeking riches.  

#3 is Koda, a bay quarter horse who is on the Oregon Trail. Stories about it are also problematic for the same reason that gold rush stories are (they celebrate something that was devastating to Native people, their families, and their homelands). 

I was able to see chapter one of Golden Sun online. Here's the description of the book:

Oregon, 1790 

Golden Sun is a chestnut snowflake Appaloosa. In summer, he treks through the mountains with his rider, a Nez Perce boy named Little Turtle, as he gathers healing plants. But when Little Turtle’s best friend falls ill, Golden Sun discovers his true calling. Here is Golden Sun’s story...in his own words.

And here are some notes as I read chapter one. Notes in regular fond; my comments are in italics.

• Several words are in italics, which I assume are meant to be from the language Little Turtle's people use. Is there a source note for those words in the back matter? I hope so. I did a quick search for one of the words used ("tawts"). The hits are to the Kaya books in the American Girls series. There is a Nimipuutimt language page online (in video and print) and I see "tá'c" there, pronounced like "tawts." [Note: The book came out in 2010. Today, writers are successfully having words in their language printed in a regular font (not italics). For an explanation why, see Daniel Jose Older's video.]  
• An older horse told Golden Sun a story about horses who were born in Spain "where the land was hardly visible for all the people and horses and lodges crowded upon it." Describing European lands that way is a technique often used to make the point that it was necessary for Europeans to set out for "the New World" where there was a lot of land that, from a European point of view, was not being used. That idea and imagery is used to justify invasion of Native lands. 
• Little Turtle uses an obsidian knife to cut some of Golden Sun's hair off. He puts it in his medicine bag. Think of someone using a knife versus using an "obsidian" knife. That word (obsidian) communicates a lot! It sends a "primitive" message that is characteristic of efforts to depict Native peoples as uncivilized. 

Based on what I see in chapter one, I would probably put a "not recommended" tag on this book. If I get a copy, I'll be back. 

Debbie--have you seen THE BRAVE by James Bird?

A reader wrote to ask if we've read The Brave by James Bird. I am aware of it but have not read it. 

Bird's main character is a 13 year old boy named Collin who has never met his Ojibwe mother before, but is being sent to live with her by his white father. In a podcast I listened to earlier today, Bird says his father was white and his mother was Ojibwe. Bird was born in California and when he turned 18 or 19, went to Minnesota to "experience my tribe."  

Bird's book got several positive reviews (some stars, even) from the major children's literature review journals but it got a scathing review from David Treuer. He's an acclaimed writer and scholar. On his website he tells us he is an Ojibwe Indian from Leech Lake Reservation in northern Minnesota. His review of The Brave appeared in The New York Times on July 31, 2020. Here's the last three paragraphs:

It's especially important that they do it in fiction for young people, which may be the only stage of life when most Americans think about us at all, as our history and present tense is inaccurately and glancingly taught to them in school.

If you're a regular reader of AICL or articles we write, or talks we give, you probably know that we say something similar to what Treuer said, a lot. The reason? People defend problematic fiction by saying (often in capital letters): IT IS FICTION. Sometimes they go on to say that a writer can do anything they want in fiction. That is true, but there's larger contexts and consequences to consider. Now the last two paragraphs of the review:   

The world depicted in "The Brave" is not Native American life as I know it. It's summer camp, complete with exotic names and faux rituals; chock-full of crafts, bravery tests and self-discovery.

I want better books for my Ojibwe/Seneca children to read: books that add to the stock of available reality, that incorporate our Native lives in a way that informs those lives and makes them larger. "The Brave" does none of those things. 

I have a copy now and am reading it, making notes as I read.  

[Back to add that as I read, I look things up. The book takes place on the Fond du Lac reservation. I wondered if Bird has relatives there, so did a search using his name and that reservation. I see a review by Deborah Locke in The Circle, a Native newspaper. Locke goes into more detail than Treuer did. Apparently a peach tree will be of significance to this story--but, the reviewer says--there are no peach trees in northern Minnesota. The review ends with "...we should be past stereotypes of stoic, wise Indians who speak little and are abnormally attached to the great outdoors." ] 

Debbie--have you seen BUFFALO DANCE: A BLACKFOOT LEGEND by Nancy Van Laan?

In today's mail is a question from a librarian. She's got a copy of Nancy Van Laan's Buffalo Dance: A Blackfoot Legend in her library and wonders if she should weed it.

I'm sharing how I go about evaluating a book.

First: is the author Native? In this case, no. Nancy Van Laan is not Native. When the book is one that looks like it might be a creation story, my impulse is to say that the book probably should be removed from the shelves, especially if it has "legend" in the title and if it is categorized as "folklore." Here's a screen cap of the entry in WorldCat (red circles are mine):

For decades, non-Native people have "retold" Native stories and called them myths, or legends, or folktales. Those books are usually shelved or categorized as "folklore" alongside Little Red Riding Hood. That's an example of institutional racism. Bible stories from the Christian bible aren't called folklore, right? So--that's one problem. Another is the integrity of the story itself. When an actual creation story is told by an outsider, chances are pretty high that there are errors in the telling, especially if their sources are outsiders, too. That likelihood means I wouldn't want Van Laan's book to be categorized as if its contents had the same integrity as this story, told by a Blackfoot writer.

Second: what is the publication year? In this case, 1993. That's old, especially when you think about how much the field has changed. In 2015, Corinne Duyvis's hashtag, #OwnVoices, took off. With respect to books by and about Native people, we've seen an increase over time, in books by Native writers. That's significant! There are many reasons #OwnVoices are important. With traditional stories that are creation stories, an insider knows the nuances of the story and how or when it can be told. If this book was by someone who is Blackfoot, I would call it #BlackfootVoice. But it isn't. It is by a white woman.

Third: what are the sources for the retelling? When I open the Amazon page I can see Van Laan names four sources. One is Joseph Campbell's Primitive Mythology: The Masks of God. That book came out in 1959. I know Campbell has quite a lot of fans but I'm not among them. In his Hero with a Thousand Faces, chapter 1, he starts with "Whether we listen with aloof amusement to the dreamlike mumbo jumbo of some red-eyed witch doctor of the Congo, [...] or catch suddenly the shining meaning of a bizarre Eskimo fairy tale..." Those clearly judgmental words didn't stop Campbell's book from being published in 1959, but it should stop you from thinking he's the bees knees, today. Van Laan's second source is The Blackfeet by John Ewers, published in 1958; and her third one is Blackfoot Lodge Tales by George Bird Grinnell published in 1962. I would look up those two sources to see how they are evaluated, today, by Native scholars. I wouldn't take them at face value because of the long history of outsiders going into Native spaces, and writing what they saw--from a white perspective that was supposedly objective. Her fourth source is The Buffalo by Francis Haines, published in 1970. A quick look at reviews of that book indicates it is the "tragic Indian" account that is captured by those dreadful "end of the trail" images.

Fourth: what does the book say? I don't have a copy of it at hand. I could go to the library and see one there. What I do see, online, is the introduction. It starts with "Long ago, when the Blackfoot Indians roamed the hills of the Great Plains of Montana, they depended on the meat and fur of the buffalo to survive." Speaking quite frankly, I find past tense wording like that highly problematic because it dovetails with the idea that Native peoples no longer exist. It confines our existence to the past, when we are very much part of the present day. The first and second paragraphs of the intro continue with past tense verbs. The third paragraph does have "is" but I don't think that one use of "is" is enough to displace the existing knowledge children have about Native peoples, or the extensive use of past tense in the first two paragraphs. I also object to the use of the word "roamed." I see that a lot in books about Native peoples. I view it as a biased word. It suggests they didn't have a homeland--that they just went here and there. It isn't a small problem. It contributes to the idea that Native peoples were primitive and uncivilized.

If I got a copy of the book, I would probably end up giving it a not-recommended label. If I do pick up a copy, I'll be back with more to say but based on what I see right now, I doubt that I would hand it to any child and if I was working in a library, I'd probably weed it.

Debbie--have you seen JUMPING MOUSE: A NATIVE AMERICAN LEGEND OF FRIENDSHIP AND SACRIFICE by Misty Schroe?

This is a long overdue "Debbie--have you seen" post! Last year I was asked about Jumping Mouse: A Native American Legend of Friendship and Sacrifice by Misty Schroe. My apologies for this delay!

Back in 1985, John Steptoe's The Story of Jumping Mouse: A Native American Legend came out. The Caldecott Committee selected it as an honor book. In my copy, I see this:

The Story of Jumping Mouse, a story from Seven Arrows copyright 1972 by Hymeyohsts Storm. Retold and illustrated for children copyright 1984 by John Steptoe.

People in Native networks know that Storm is a fraud. Indeed, Native media and scholars have written about Storm's fraudulent claims to Native identity (see 5 Fake Indians: Checking a Box Doesn't Make You Native by Dr. Dean Chavers in Indian Country Today and "The Ruins of Representation: Shadow Survivance and the Literature of Dominance" by Gerald Vizenor in American Indian Quarterly, volume 17, #1, Winter 1983).

What we have in Steptoe's book is his retelling of a retelling from an unreliable source. What is in this new telling of that story?

Well, there's an introduction available online. There, the author says that she heard this story from her mother, "Laughing Bird." So--where did Laughing Bird hear it?

At her author's page, Schroe says she's "almost a fourth Crow from the Sioux nation." Hmm. That doesn't make sense to me but I'll look for more info.

The Publisher's Weekly review notes that there is no source for the story, and that there is no specific tribal nation mentioned anywhere in the story. That same problem is pointed out by the review at School Library Journal. And, Kirkus notes it, too! That is terrific!

I've got a copy on order and will be back when I get it, but for now, I have doubts that it will be on AICL's recommended lists.

Not Recommended: THE SACRIFICE by Diane Matcheck

A reader wrote to ask if we've seen The Sacrifice by Diane Matcheck. It was published in 2016 by Farrar, Straus and Giroux (Macmillan). Based on what I have read about the book, I am changing the title of this blog post from a "have you seen" to "Not Recommended."

One of the things I (Debbie) do when I get questions about a book is to read the description of the book. Over at Barnes and Noble's website, I saw this:

An Apsaalooka (Crow) Indian girl has lived her life as a despised loner, overshadowed by her dead twin brother, who, it was prophesied at their birth, would become a "Great One" among his people. One night, she sets off on a forbidden journey to prove to her village, and her brother's spirit, that she is the one destined to become the true Great One. Her trek over the plains and into the mysterious region of modern-day Yellowstone National Park is a disaster, culminating in her eventual capture by a tribe of Pawnee. Strangely, these foreigners treat her with an unfamiliar respect, and the girl starts to let down her guard. But when it is suddenly revealed that she has been kept alive in order to be killed in a ritual harvest-season sacrifice, the girl is thrown back into her desperate battle for survival...in Diane Matcheck's The Sacrifice.

The words in that description prompted a lot of questions. First is the use of "Apsaalooka" (that word, spelled that way, is in the description and throughout the book). I'm glad to see writers using a tribal nation's own name for itself, in their language, but it is important to get it spelled right. When I put "Apsaalooka" in the Google search window, Google asked "Did you mean Apsaalooke"? 

On the website for the Crow Tribe of Indians, you'll find "Apsaalooke." 

I wondered if the sources Matcheck used might have been from older books when the word ended with an 'a' instead of an 'e'. I did a search in Google Books and was surprised to see Paulette Fairbanks Molin's critique of The Sacrifice in her book, American Indian Themes in Young Adult Literature. Molin's book came out in 2005. 

From the reader's question, I had assumed--incorrectly--that Matcheck's The Sacrifice is a new book. It isn't. As I showed above, the first year of publication for this book is 1998.

Obviously, people at Macmillan did not read Molin's critique. Were there any changes from the 1998 edition to the 2016 one? I doubt it, based on reviews I read of the 2016 edition.

Through agreements with review journals, Barnes and Noble is able to post the full review of a book on their website page for a given book. I am able to see, for example, the reviews of The Sacrifice from BookList, Publisher's Weekly, and School Library Journal. The first two reviews are unsigned. The one from School Library Journal, however, is signed--by Dr. Loriene Roy who is enrolled at the White Earth Reservation. She's a former president of the American Library Association.

All three reviews begin with similar content (descriptions of what happens in the book). The first two unsigned reviews praise the book in their closing sentences, but Roy does not. Here's what she wrote:

Weakness lies in the characterization. The young woman appears to have a modern belief in independence and personal achievement and a defiance of the more Native perspectives of respect for elders and thanksgiving for the gifts of nature. Also questionable is the recounting of tribal religious practice, an act of cultural misappropriation.

Roy's last two sentences are important. It seems to me that Matcheck's Native character is one with White sensibilities. That's not ok, at all. And I'm glad to see Roy calling out the appropriations she saw in the book.

I opened the "Look Inside" option on Amazon to read what I could of The Sacrifice. Just prior to chapter one is a passage from the Bible. That doesn't bode well, at all. In fact, it shouts White Man's Indian (for those who don't know, a "White Man's Indian" is a white depiction of a Native person; for more info see Robert F. Berkhofer's The White Man's Indian, published in 1979). The Bible passage is this one:

For what is a man profited, 

if he shall gain the whole world, 

and lose his own soul? 

or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?

--MATTHEW 16:26

On page 4, the author's description of the main character is rife with stereotypes. Her eyes smolder, "like a wildcat's eyes at night from within its den." She's got high cheekbones and a "fine, straight nose." Her hair is black but is "snarled in a grimy black nest" down her back. The very first sentence of the book is "The girl clawed the wind-whipped hair out of her eyes with bloody hands, and listened" (page 3). Her hands are bloody because she's killed three buffalo; the carcass of one is beside her. She imagines everyone praising her and giving her a new name, "the Great One" instead of the name she carries, "Weak-one-who-does-not-last." That desire to be known as "the Great One" is what Roy's critique is describing. Her father approaches her. Matcheck introduces him by talking about his speech, and his teeth. "His talk was stubby-sounding and full of whistles, because all but one of his front teeth were snapped off jagged or gone completely" (p. 6-7).

The passage from the Bible, the author's depiction of the main character and her father, and Roy's critique are enough for me to give The Sacrifice a Not Recommended tag.

Macmillan republished it (with a new cover) because it must be making money for them. That means people are buying it. Money drives book publishing. How about--if you bought it--you take it back to your bookstore and ask for a refund? If you're on Twitter, what if you ask Macmillan why they published it? In other words, I'm asking people to speak up about publishers reissuing old books. Don't be complicit with Macmillan's anti-Native nonsense! Speak up!

Debbie--have you seen Kathleen Arden's SMALL SPACES?

A reader wrote to ask if I've read Kathleen Arden's middle grade book, Small Spaces. It came out on July 9, 2019, as a reprint from Puffin Books. It first came out in 2018 from G. P. Putnam's Sons (an imprint of Penguin Random House).

Here's the description:

After suffering a tragic loss, eleven-year-old Ollie who only finds solace in books discovers a chilling ghost story about a girl named Beth, the two brothers who loved her, and a peculiar deal made with "the smiling man"--a sinister specter who grants your most tightly held wish, but only for the ultimate price.

Captivated by the tale, Ollie begins to wonder if the smiling man might be real when she stumbles upon the graves of the very people she's been reading about on a school trip to a nearby farm. Then, later, when her school bus breaks down on the ride home, the strange bus driver tells Ollie and her classmates: "Best get moving. At nightfall they'll come for the rest of you." Nightfall is, indeed, fast descending when Ollie's previously broken digital wristwatch begins a startling countdown and delivers a terrifying message: RUN.

Only Ollie and two of her classmates heed these warnings. As the trio head out into the woods--bordered by a field of scarecrows that seem to be watching them--the bus driver has just one final piece of advice for Ollie and her friends: "Avoid large places. Keep to small."

And with that, a deliciously creepy and hair-raising adventure begins.

The passage that prompted Sam's (they're the person who wrote to ask me about the book) question is on page 83 when Seth says to Ollie:

"Come on, kid," said Seth. "There's always a ghost story. Look around. How long have people lived on this land? There's us, yeah, but before us, there were those people in that graveyard back there. Fanny Collar--you saw her, right?--on her grave it says that she married the first white child born in Evansburg--why do you think that was even a thing? Because before them, there were the Abenaki, and they had this land and farmed it and died on it and wrote their own ghost stories while people died of plague in the streets of London." 

I'm intrigued by that passage and will order a copy of Small Spaces. 

Debbie--have you seen SANTA CALLS by William Joyce?

A reader wrote to ask if I've read Santa Calls by William Joyce. I looked it up and here's what I found.

It was first published in 1993 by Harper Collins. In the years since then, Scholastic published it, it was made into a board book, and a Braille edition was published, too. Then in 2017, it was published again by Atheneum Books for Young Readers. There are videos of Joyce talking about this edition. I think his art is fine but the Native content of the story... not fine.

Using Amazon's look inside feature, I see that the main character is an orphan boy named Art Atchinson Aimesworth who lives with an aunt and uncle who run a Wild West Show. Art has a sister named Esther and his best friend is "Spaulding Littlefeets, a young Comanche brave." Here they are:

Let's talk about that illustration and the information we are given. It is good that Spaulding is dressed much like Art. He's wearing braids, which is fine but they are thin as can be. That's odd. What is not good? Spaulding's last name, "Littlefeets," is a mockery of Native naming. And, using "brave" instead of "boy" marks Spaulding as different. Most dictionaries state the the word "brave" is outdated or offensive. It would have been great if--for the 2017 edition--Joyce (the author/illustrator) had replaced brave with boy.

Also not great? Spaulding is wearing a headband. That's odd, too. Here's a look at that, from the next page:

The story is set in 1908, in Abilene Texas. Art receives a box from Santa Claus. Inside is a flying machine that Art, Spaulding, and Art's sister, Esther, put together. The basket they're supposed to ride in is broken, so they use Spaulding's canoe instead. Why did a Comanche have a canoe? Comanches are a Plains nation. I suppose he might have had a canoe, but a horse would have been more accurate. The kids could have figured out something to use instead of a canoe.

That's all I can see online. If I get a copy, I'll be back!

Debbie--have you seen THOMAS JEFFERSON AND THE MAMMOTH HUNT?

A reader asked if I have seen Thomas Jefferson and the Mammoth Hunt. Written by Carrie Clickard, illustrated by Nancy Carpenter, it came out on January 1, 2019 from Simon and Schuster.

This page, with the Indian hiding behind a tree, prompted the question:

As I study the page, I have these thoughts:

See Jefferson holding up the Constitution? With its "We the People" declaration? Some people weren't included in that "We the People" idea. Enslaved people were not included. Neither were Native people (see Rights Matter for details).

My guess is that the Black woman holding the flag was enslaved. And see the Indian hiding behind the tree (when, oh when will writers and illustrators stop with that particular image?!)? Is it misleading to readers to have those two individuals there when they were not included in "We the People"?

The facing page starts with "In the New World, called America" changes were coming. What's wrong with that? To Native people, it wasn't a new world, and it wasn't called America. In the coming pages, will the author/illustrator acknowledge that fact? Or... leave it out?

 "We're still fighting with the British" and "join our brave new nation" are also on that page. What about the peoples of Native Nations that the settlers were fighting?

Those two pages look, sound, and feel a lot like Lin Manuel Miranda's Hamilton. I've ordered the book and will be back with a review.

Debbie--have you seen THE LEAGUE OF SEVEN by Alan Gratz and Brett Helquist?

A reader wrote to ask if I've read The League of Seven by Alan Gratz and Brett Helquist. It came out in 2014 from Starscape (Macmillan), which publishes sci fi and fantasy for middle grade, ages 10 and up.

Here's the description, from Gratz's website:

Thirty days hath September. Seven heroes we remember. 

Young Archie Dent knows there really are monsters in the world. His parents are members of the Septemberist Society, whose job it is to protect humanity from hideous giant monsters called the Mangleborn. Trapped in underground prisons for a thousand years, the Mangleborn have been all but forgotten–until now. 

Evil genius Thomas Alva Edison and his experiments in the forbidden science of electricity have awakened a Mangleborn in the swamps of Florida. When Archie’s parents and the rest of the Septemberists are brainwashed by the monster, it’s up to Archie and his loyal Tik Tok manservant Mr. Rivets to assemble a new team of seven young heroes to save the world: the League of Seven.

No mention of Native content in that description, but the person who wrote to me noted that one of the main characters is Seminole. You can see here here, on the cover:

Her name, I learned by reading reviews, is Hachi. I also learned it is an alternative history, set in America in 1875. I'm intrigued. I'll try to get a copy and do a review. 

Have you read it? What are your thoughts?

Debbie--have you seen Follow Me Down to Nicodemus Town, by A. LaFaye?

A reader wrote to ask if I've seen Follow Me Down to Nicodemus Town by A. LaFaye. It is a picture book that came out in January of 2019 from Albert Whitman. Here's the description:

When Dede sees a notice offering land to black people in Kansas, her family decides to give up their life of sharecropping to become homesteading pioneers in the Midwest. Inspired by the true story of Nicodemus, Kansas, a town founded in the late 1870s by Exodusters—former slaves leaving the Jim Crow South in search of a new beginning—this fictional story follows Dede and her parents as they set out to stake and secure a claim, finally allowing them to have a home to call their own.

Dede and her parents meet an Osage family, as shown in this illustration.

When I can get a copy of the book, I'll be back with a review.

Not Recommended: WHAT I CAME TO TELL YOU by Tommy Hays

A reader wrote to ask if I've read What I Came To Tell You by Tommy Hays. It was published in 2013 by Egmont, and it has some Native content that the reader is concerned about.

This post started out as a "Debbie--have you seen" but as I looked at it, I quickly changed its title to Not Recommended.

What I Came To Tell You is doing quite well, in part, because Hays created a passage where one character uses the word "Hillbilly" to hurt another. More on that in a bit.

First, the book description:

Since his mother died earlier this year, Grover Johnston (named after a character in Thomas Wolfe's Look Homeward Angel) has watched his family fall to pieces as his father throws himself into his work rather than dealing with the pain. Left to care for his younger sister, Sudie, Grover finds solace in creating intricate weavings out of the natural materials found in the bamboo forest behind his North Carolina home, a pursuit that his father sees only as a waste of time. But as tensions mount between father and son, unlikely forces conspire to help the Johnstons find their way. 

The new tenants in the rental house across the street who have come from deep in the Carolina hills seem so different from the Johnstons, but become increasingly intertwined with them in unexpected ways. Classmates, neighbors, teachers, and coworkers band together, forming a community that can save a family from itself. 

What I Came To Tell You is told from the point of view of Grover. One of the new tenants who moved from "deep in the Carolina hills" is a girl named Emma Lee.

The "hillbilly" scene unfolds in chapter 4, in school, in the classroom. The teacher, Mrs. Caswell, is delivering a lesson on Cherokee Indians. Caswell, we learn later, has asked the other kids to make friends with Emma Lee.

At recess, Ashley invites Emma Lee to play foursquare with her and her friends. Then, Ashley leads the group over to where the boys are playing basketball and tells them they want to play a new game. What game, the boys ask. Instead of HORSE, Ashley says, looking right at Emma Lee, she wants to play H-I-L-L-B-I-L-L-Y.

Quick as can be, Emma Lee slaps her. Of course, she gets in trouble for hitting Ashley. In class, Grover tells their teacher what happened and they have a discussion about the word. Ashley is embarrassed and ends up apologizing to Emma Lee. 

In chapter 10 is this scene where Grover is out in the forest, engrossed in his weaving. Suddenly he realizes he's not alone (p. 121):

Emma Lee was sitting on the sycamore stump.

"How long have you been sitting there?" he asked, his heart racing.

"A while," she said.

"I never heard you," he said.

"We're one quarter Cherokee. We know how to sneak up on people." She smiled. 

Now--it'd be great if Hays would push back on that stereotype, wouldn't it? But, that doesn't happen. Hays has his Cherokee character uttering a stereotype about Native people. It isn't the first time he does that, though. Way back on page 24, Grover sees Emma Lee, reading. Reading is fine but ...

She sat like he'd often seen her, with her legs crossed Indian style, her elbows on her knees and her head bowed over a book in her lap. 

Indian style? Oh dear! (Honestly, I uttered something other than "oh dear" when I read that.)

Course, these two are the main characters, so a friendship does develop. Later in the book, Grover and Emma Lee are sitting in a room that is lit only by candlelight. The room is cold, so Emma Lee goes to get some blankets:

She came back in, carrying blankets, gave him one, then she wrapped herself in the other. In the flickering candlelight, she looked like an Indian princess sitting in front of a campfire.

Indian princess?! (Imagine my reaction to that.... not a good one, for sure.)

All the good that Hays does in that passage about the word, hillbilly, is undone by these stereotypes of Native people! He's created a Cherokee character to push back on a hillbilly stereotype, and he's used stereotypes of Native people to do it. That is messed up, right? Please say right.

What was Hays thinking? His book was chosen for several distinctions, including a Fall 2013 "Okra Pick" by the Southern Independent Booksellers Association. What were they thinking?! So much ignorance... still. What can you do to interrupt it? Speak up.

If you know Mr. Hays personally, talk to him about it. He definitely needs to hear from people because he teaches creative writing. Folks, we can be creative but need not stereotype anyone. Especially in writing for children.

Published in 2013 by Egmont, What I Came To Tell You, by Tommy Hays, is not recommended.

Debbie--have you seen THE RANSOM OF MERCY CARTER by Caroline Cooney?

A reader wrote to ask if I've reviewed The Ransom of Mercy Carter by Caroline Cooney. It was published in 2001 by Random House. Here's the overview:

Deerfield, Massachusetts is one of the most remote, and therefore dangerous, settlements in the English colonies. In 1704 an Indian tribe attacks the town, and Mercy Carter becomes separated from the rest of her family, some of whom do not survive. Mercy and hundreds of other settlers are herded together and ordered by the Indians to start walking. The grueling journey — three hundred miles north to a Kahnawake Indian village in Canada — takes more than 40 days. At first Mercy's only hope is that the English government in Boston will send ransom for her and the other white settlers. But days turn into months and Mercy, who has become a Kahnawake daughter, thinks less and less of ransom, of Deerfield, and even of her "English" family. She slowly discovers that the "savages" have traditions and family life that soon become her own, and Mercy begins to wonder: If ransom comes, will she take it?

The Ransom of Mercy Carter is a captivity story. These kinds of story started with Mary Rowlandson's account of her captivity in 1676. There have been many since then, including

• Lois Lenski's Indian Captive: The Story of Mary Jemison, published in 1941. Like Cooney's book, it  also won a Newbery Honor Medal.
• Elizabeth George Speare's Calico Captive, published in 1957, and based on the capture of James Johnson and his family in 1754. 

It'd be interesting to do a chart of plot points across these three books. Cooney's opens with the place (Deerfield, Massachusetts), the date (February 28, 1704) and the temperature (10 degrees below zero). The first page is about Mercy's family settling into bed for the night, and praying:

Dear Lord, prayed Mercy Carter, do not let us be murdered in our beds tonight.

I'll see if I can get a copy of the book, but some things I see (like that first line) suggest that the book is a sensational telling--more of a thriller than anything else. The word "savage" appears in it 29 times.

Skimming what I can see online, I see there's a scene where the captive kids watch a Native man who had "taken four scalps" earlier. The description of his actions is very detailed as he scrapes flesh away. Pretty gross, isn't it? So, I have a hunch that The Ransom of Mercy Carter will end up with a not recommended tag.

Debbie--have you seen SQUIRM by Carl Hiaasen?

A reader of AICL wrote to ask if I've seen Squirm by Carl Hiassen. Published in 2018 by Knopf (Penguin Random House) here's the description:

Some facts about Billy Dickens:
  *  He once saw a biker swerve across the road in order to run over a snake.
  *  Later, that motorcycle somehow ended up at the bottom of a canal.
  *  Billy isn't the type to let things go.

Some facts about Billy's family:
  *  They've lived in six different Florida towns because Billy's mom insists on getting a house near a bald eagle nest.
  *  Billy's dad left when he was four and is a total mystery.
  *  Billy has just found his dad's address--in Montana.

This summer, Billy will fly across the country, hike a mountain, float a river, dodge a grizzly bear, shoot down a spy drone, save a neighbor's cat, save an endangered panther, and then try to save his own father.

The review at Kirkus tells me that, in Montana, Billy learns that his dad--Dennis Dickens--has a new wife and that Billy now has a stepsister named Summer. They're members of the Crow Nation.

From what I can see in the Google Books preview, once Billy gets to Montana and to his dad's house, he meets Summer. Her last name is Chasing-Hawks. A few months after Summer's mom and Billy's dad started dating, Summer and her mom moved in with Billy's dad. Billy asks "Was it hard to leave the reservation?" Summer replies "Life on the rez can be...challenging?"

I'll see if I can get a copy, and if I do, I'll be back with a review.

Debbie--have you seen THE LEAVING YEAR by Pam McGaffin?

A reader writes to ask if I've seen Pam McGaffin's The Leaving Year. Published in 2018 by Spark Press, it got a starred review from School Library Journal. Here's the description:

As the Summer of Love comes to an end, 15-year-old Ida Petrovich waits for a father who never comes home. While commercial fishing in Alaska, he is lost at sea, but with no body and no wreckage, Ida and her mother are forced to accept a “presumed” death that tests their already strained relationship. While still in shock over the loss of her father, Ida overhears an adult conversation that shatters everything she thought she knew about him. This prompts her to set out on a search for the truth that takes her from her Washington State hometown to Southeast Alaska, where she works at a salmon cannery, develops love for a Filipino classmate, and befriends a Native Alaskan girl. In this wild, rugged place, she also begins to understand the physical and emotional bonds that took her father north and why he kept them secret—a journey of discovery that ultimately brings her family together and helps them heal. Insightful and heartfelt, The Leaving Year is a tale of love and loyalty, family and friendship, and the stories we tell ourselves in our search for meaning.

The "Native Alaskan" girl is, according to the review in Kirkus, Tlingit. That review also notes that Ida's father has an affinity for "the "scoundrel" raven of Alaskan myth." The review in School Library Journey says that McGaffin wove Indigenous legends into Ida's journey.

Using the Google books preview, I see that in chapter two, McGaffin is remembering time with her dad. That he "loves the Native Alaskan myths, with their wild explanations of how things in nature came to be." Wild explanations of Indigenous myths? Hmm. I'll take a wild guess and say that I bet Ida is going to come to an appreciation of Alaska's Indigenous people that she doesn't have when the book starts out.

Her dad, in particular, told her about Raven:

Raven was a sly, crafty fellow who used trickery to get what he wanted, and he wanted that box of stars."

In chapter nine, she's with David who is telling her about her dad being in a bar that has so much in it that it is like a museum. In that bar, he'd tell stories, sometimes reading from a book of Native Alaska myths. Ida tells David her dad liked the creation myth about Raven, "even though he was a bit of a scoundrel" but David says that he likes her dad "liked Raven because he was a scoundrel" and that "his scoundrel-ness made the stories even funnier." They talk about how her dad liked to entertain people. Once, though, David says he was serious. It was when someone else in the bar was telling a story and said "f-ing 'drunken Indians,'" and, when that man said that, Ida's dad laid into the man. Ida wants details:

"Um, I don't remember everything, but he basically talked about the bad things the white men did to the Natives in Alaska, like bringing disease and taking their kids away to live in boarding schools." David's Adam's apple goes up and down as he swallows. "I guess it was really horrible for those kids. First, their parents die of TB or whatever--"

"TB, like tuberculosis?" I flash back on the women in Poe's life.

"Yeah, then they're stuck in these schools that force them to become Christians. Imagine being taken away from every you know... forever." 

Obviously, it is good to have Ida's dad lay into that man for using that stereotype and it is good that Ida's dad has knowledge of the Indigenous people of Alaska.... But, McGaffin's story is set in Washington State. The way that particular passage is written is accurate but it also seems to suggest that the boarding schools were not in Washington. In fact, they were. Not including that fact seems odd to me. The passage continues:

"Did Dad turn that guy around?"

"Who knows? I've never forgotten it, I can tell you that. I think the reason he got so mad was because he had friends up there. Natives. There was this one Aleut lady he talked about alot. She ... uh, worked on Creek Street." He pauses, like that's significant. "Do you know about Creek Street?"

I shake my head.

"Well, its pretty famous for... a certain activity. The joke is that it's the only place where both salmon and men come to spawn."

It takes me a while, but when I finally get it, heat creeps up my cheeks. David's too wrapped up in his story to notice.

"Anyway, this lady had a nickname that her own people used against her. It was really rude, but she started using it herself to show she wasn't..."

"Ashamed?"

"Exactly."

"So what was it?"

David tells her the name was "Two-Bit" but that she was retired from that work (the word is in italics in the book) by the time Ida's dad got to know her. David says he'll tell her more, tomorrow, but he doesn't show up. The Kirkus review says that Ida decides to go to Ketchikan after contacting a woman her father knew there.

In chapter 27, both Ida and her mom are in Ketchikan. They go to a center for Native kids where a man takes them to see "Trinity." She is "a woman with long gray hair" dressed like a hippie and wearing rings and bracelets, "all silver, all with Indian designs." Ida expected her to be a lot younger. Trinity greets them:

"Yakíei yee yŸt Ÿ  xwal geini. That means, 'It is wonderful to look upon your faces.' You must be Ida." She turns to my mom. "And you the mother."

I found that exact phrase at a Chilikat Indian Village page of Tlingit phrases. Is Trinity "Two-Bit?"  She shows them around the center. There's a totem pole there. Ida touches it and thinks she senses spirits. Trinity is telling them that the totem pole is important for the center. Some kids there know their clans, and those who don't know, chose one--or

"rather the totems chose them. They went on spirit walks and thought about those who came before."

 I am wondering at this point if Ida is going to have a clan or totem by the end of The Leaving Year.

Back in the office, Trinity shows Ida and her mom photographs. Ida's dad is is many of them. He helped raise that totem pole. Ida thinks that her dad wasn't doing something shameful (having an affair). He was doing something more "saintly." As they look at more photos, Ida interrupts to ask who "Miss Red" is. Seems Ida has a note that refers to her dad and Miss Red, and she thinks Miss Red is someone her dad was carrying on with. Trinity tells her that Miss Red is what they call his boat. He calls it "Lady Rose" but they call it "Miss Red."

Then, Ida's mother says:

"Okay, so Miss Red was the boat," she says. "But how do you explain the condoms? I'd find condoms in Steve's pockets."

Trinity tells them that she provides condoms to the teens in the center. People donate items to help run the center but she dare not ask anyone for condoms. Turns out, Ida's dad was Trinity's source for condoms. Ida's mom grabs for the desk and then falls backwards. She's mostly ok.

And now I'm hitting the pause button. Will I read this book? I don't know! It is definitely unusual, but right now, it doesn't feel unusual in a good way. If the local library gets it, then perhaps I will. If so, I'll be back.