Highly Recommended: JOSIE DANCES, written by Denise Lajimodiere; illustrated by Angela Erdrich

Josie Dances 

written by Denise Lajimodiere (Citizen, Turtle Mountain Band of Ojibwe)

illustrated by Dr. Angela Erdrich (Citizen, Turtle Mountain Band of Ojibwe)

Published in 2021

Publisher: Minnesota Historical Society Press

Status: Highly Recommended

Reviewer: Debbie Reese (Nambé Owingeh)

****

I'll just say it: I love Josie Dances. That sense of love that readers experience with some books, is where I'll start. Why, I wonder, does this book give me that feeling? 

As I turn the pages to try to figure that out, I think it is the same things that I noted yesterday (May 3) in my review of Angeline Boulley's Firekeeper's Daughter. Those things: community, and women. Specifically, Native community, and Native women. To be precise: Ojibwe community, and Ojibwe women! 

Here's the description of Josie Dances from the publisher: 

Josie dreams of dancing at next summer’s powwow. But first she needs many special things: a dress, a shawl, a cape, leggings, moccasins, and, perhaps most important of all, her spirit name. To gather all these essential pieces, she calls on her mom, her aunty, her kookum, and Grandma Greatwalker. They have the skills to prepare Josie for her powwow debut.

As the months go by, Josie practices her dance steps while Mom stitches, Aunty and Kookum bead, and Grandma Greatwalker dreams Josie’s spirit name. Josie is nervous about her performance in the arena and about all the pieces falling into place, but she knows her family is there to support her.

The powwow circle is a welcoming space, and dancers and spectators alike celebrate Josie’s first dance. When she receives her name, she knows it’s just right. Wrapped in the love of her community, Josie dances to honor her ancestors.

In this Ojibwe girl’s coming-of-age story, Denise Lajimodiere highlights her own daughter’s experience at powwow. Elegant artwork by Angela Erdrich features not only Josie and her family but also the animals and seasons and heartbeat of Aki, Mother Earth, and the traditions that link Josie to generations past and yet to come.

As I sit here and read through the book again, I pause at what is (at the moment) my favorite page:

I carry memories of my grandmother sewing traditional clothes for us to wear for our dances at Nambé. She had an old sewing machine that was powered by her feet pushing a large pedal that made her machine work. Fascinated with the process, I asked her if I could try it. It isn't a clear memory but it seems she told me something like "this is not like your mom's sewing machine." She was right about that. My mom's sewing machine looked like the one in Josie Dances. She, too, sewed our traditional and everyday clothes. I sew them, too. And so does my daughter. She's made traditional dresses for her cousin's little girls. 

Josie and her family spend a year getting ready for her to dance. With each page turn, readers move through the seasons with them. Early in the book, we see the moccasins that Josie will wear--but without beads. On the page with the sewing machine, it is winter and we see the moccasins partially beaded. Turning the page we see Grandmother Greatwalker asleep (and covered with a beautiful quilt!), dreaming. Josie's name will come to her, in a dream. The next page shows us Josie and her mother picking spring berries. Then... it is time for the powwow and we shift from a seasonal framework to one that takes place over a day and night. First, we see people in t-shirts and shorts at the site where the powwow will be. Josie is wondering if she'll be dancing, after all. We see her in a night scene, lying down in a bedroll in her tent. Did all her clothing get finished? Did Grandmother Greatwalker dream of her name? She wakes the next day with messy hair. Glancing to the trees nearby, she sees an eagle. The answer to all her questions is yes, and it is conveyed quietly on this page:

----

With each year, I see more and more children's books with Native words in them. That's part of why I'm highly recommending Josie Dances. When Josie asks her mom to help her, her mom replies "Eya, nindaanis!" The glossary tells us that means "Yes, my daughter!" We have that same sentence structure several times. Josie asks her aunty if she will bead her cape; her aunty replies "Eya, ikwezens!" Josie asks her kookum (grandmother) if she'll make her moccasins and leggings, and she replies "Eya, noozhishenh!" And she asks a tribal elder (Grandmother Greatwalker) about her name, and hears "Eya, abinoojinh!" Lajimodiere's writing teaches us all a few Ojibwe words--and that's a terrific part of what we are offered in this picture book. 

I think what I'm trying to get at is this: the story given to us by Denise Lajimodiere and Angela Erdrich -- both, citizens of the Turtle Mountain Band of Ojibwe -- is so real, and so full of Native life and love. 

Denise Lajimodiere

Angela Erdrich

Josie Dances is published by the Minnesota Historical Society Press. They've done several books that I highly recommend, including Marcie Rendon's Powwow Summer, Cheryl Minnema's Hungry Johnny, Thomas Peacock's The Forever Sky, Art Coulson's The Creator's Game, and Brenda Child's Bowwow Powwow. If you don't have those yet, get them when you order copies of Josie Dances. 

Highly Recommended! FIREKEEPER'S DAUGHTER by Angeline Boulley

Firekeeper's Daughter

Written by Angeline Boulley (Enrolled member of the 

Sault Ste. Marie Tribe of Chippewa Indians)

Cover art by Moses Lunham (Ojibway)

Published in 2021

Publisher: Henry Holt (Macmillan)

Review Status: Highly Recommended

Reviewer: Debbie Reese (Nambé Owingeh)

****

For months, now, people have been talking about Angeline Boulley's debut, Firekeeper's Daughter. When the cover art by Moses Lunham (Ojibway) was released, people talked about that. When Netflix announced it would be made into a film by the Obama's production company, Higher Ground Productions, there was a growing chorus of voices. And then there was even more, when it appeared on the New York times bestseller list! 

It's popularity is evident in the wait time at my local library. If I wanted to get an audio copy, I'd have one in 290 days; if I wanted the eBook I'd get it in 276 days. Of course, I had a personal e-copy, so won't be adding my name to the request list at the library.

I was elated to see the review from Publishers Weekly. It used the words "tribally specific." I think that is another "first" for Native writers. We've seen a few "firsts" recently. One is Carole Lindstrom and Michaela Goade's We Are Water Protectors winning the Caldecott Medal, and another is seeing their book and a new one--I Sang You Down from the Stars by Tasha Spillett-Sumner, illustrated by Michaela Goade--on the best selling picture book list at the New York Times, at the same time! Boulley's book was over on the young adult list!

When I read the phrase "half brother" in a review from one of the major review journals, I paused. Half brother? I didn't remember seeing that phrase. Was it in the book? The answer is no. Boulley did not use that phrase to describe Daunis's brother. He was, simply, her brother. Levi and Daunis have different mothers but for Boulley, that doesn't matter. I think it hints at the difference between a white point of view and a Native one, about family and the words used to describe family members.  

I'm thrilled that people like Boulley's novel. What it is doing in the world is important for everyone. People who aren't Ojibwe are getting an insider's perspective on Ojibwe life and people; Ojibwe readers are getting something they recognize. Take a listen to Red Hoop Talk, episode 48. When it starts, they bring up a map that shows Sugar Island, which figures prominently in Firekeeper's Daughter. 

Listening, I especially like that Boulley characterizes her book as a love letter to Anishinabe girls. When Boulley and Colleen Medicine (one of the hosts on the show; she's Ojibwe) talk about the ferry to Sugar Island and how it feels to be on Sugar Island, I think of going into, and being at similar places at Nambé--how liberating they are to us, as Native people of those places. Boulley talking about the audio makes me want to go right out and order it! 

Photo credit: Amber Boulley

She talked, too, about the team at Macmillan that works with her, and that found Moses Lunham. In August of 2020, Anishinabek News did an article about him doing the cover. Here's a paragraph:

Since the Woodland style is a story-telling art form, Lunham says it is well-suited to book covers. The images on the cover originate from the fire and the smoke that rises from it, he explains. With the protagonist’s last name being Firekeeper, it made perfect sense to start with a Sacred Fire, Lunham says.  From out of smoke come the bear, Daunis’ clan dodem, and the raven, the message-bearer who plays an important role in leading her “in the right direction,” the artist adds. The two animals “morph” into the butterfly, the main image and a symbol Lunham wanted to include as representing the young Daunis leaving childhood and emerging into adult life.

As I follow reactions to the book, I see that Native people talk about Native community in Firekeeper's Daughter. They see things that resonate with them. In particular, Native readers are talking about the women, especially the elders, in the book. I sure did! Reading the words of these Ojibwe women made me laugh and wince, too, as I heard echos of home (Nambé). Like the name Granny June gives to her dog! I laughed really hard at that part. And the elders using technology? That was awesome and made me think of my mom with her iPad!  

Though the novel is Ojibwe from start to finish, there are many places at which I nodded because they are so familiar. HUD houses. And the passages about tribal politics! I like that a lot. I hope non-Native readers hit a pause button when they read about tribal politics in Daunis's community, and that they learn about tribal governments. Native governments are rarely taught in schools, but Native kids know about them and non-Native kids should, too! Most tribal nations have websites with links to their page about their government. Here's the one for Boulley's tribe: Government (Sault Ste. Marie Tribe of Chippewa Indians. 

I like the ways that Boulley raises stereotypical thinking and then immediately bats them down. I won't elaborate. See for yourself.

I'll close with a link to another terrific moment. As far as I am able to determine, the National Congress of American Indians has not had an event that featured a children's or adult book, but they did it with Firekeeper's Daughter. Moreover, it included a spectacular team of Native women:

That image is a screen cap from Louise Erdrich's (Turtle Mountain Band of Chippewa Indians) public Facebook page. In the foreground (on the laptop) is Secretary of the Interior Deb Haaland (Laguna Pueblo) and in the background is Erdrich. The NCAI event included Haaland, Erdrich, NCAI President Fawn Sharp (Quinault), and Representative Sharice Davids (Ho-Chunk). Here's a screen capture from the 13:40 mark of the event, when Davids talked about reading Boulley's book:

In his introduction, Representative Dan Kildee noted that Davids has a children's book in the works, too! Illustrated by Joshua M. Pawis-Steckley (Ojibwe) is due out on June 1, so keep an eye out for it and register for the launch:

Make time to watch the entire NCAI event. One of the topics Boulley and Erdrich discussed is about DNA, DNA testing, and enrollment. Erdrich told Boulley she was glad to see that part of the book. I wonder how that part is landing with people who think they're Native, and then provide their DNA to a company, thinking that is all it takes to be able to say they're Native?   

Watch the video. Spend some time on Angeline Boulley's website. And of course, get a copy of the book.Visit your library and ask them for it. 

One last note:  In her author's note, when Boulley names a Native person, she includes their tribal nation. This book is tribally specific, through and through. 

 

Highly Recommended: WHEN THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD WAS SUBDUED, OUR SONGS CAME THROUGH: A NORTON ANTHOLOGY OF NATIVE NATIONS POETRY, edited by Joy Harjo

When the Light of the World Was Subdued, Our Songs Came Through:

A Norton Anthology of Native Nations Poetry

Edited by Joy Harjo (Mvskoke), with LeAnne Howe (Choctaw), 

Jennifer Elise Forester (Mvskoke), and Contributing Editors

Cover art by Emmi Whitehorse (Navajo)

Published in 2020

Publisher: W.W. Norton and Company

Review Status: Highly Recommended

Reviewer: Debbie Reese

****

I watched the livestream when this Norton Anthology of Native Nations Poetry, When the Light of the World Was Subdued, Our Songs Came Through was launched on August 21 at Collected Works Bookstore in Santa Fe. I love the title, and I love seeing "Native Nations" in the subtitle! 

Luci Tapahonso (Diné) was there, with Joy. Thinking about it this morning makes me smile as I recall the warmth between these two Native women. And I recall Harjo's reading of "Rabbit Is Up To Tricks." It was weeks before the presidential election. When you read or listen to it, you will likely feel the same chill I felt. That poem was first published in Harjo's 2015 book, Conflict Resolution for Holy Beings. 

Last year when the anthology was published, I wrote about Marcie Rendon's poem, "What's an Indian Woman to Do?" Since then, I page through my copy of the book and see names of people I know and think that I've got to do a blog post about their poems, especially for teachers who are using their books. Here at American Indians in Children's Literature and elsewhere, I've written about poems and stories and books by Kimberly M. Blaser, Elizabeth Cook-Lynn, Heid E. Erdrich, Louise Erdrich, Eric Gansworth, Joy Harjo, Layli Long Soldier, Deborah A. Miranda, Simon Ortiz, Marcie Rendon, Kim Shuck, Leslie Marmon Silko, Luci Tapahonso, Laura Tohe, Mark Turcotte, James Welch, Gwen Westerman, Tanaya Winder, and Ofelia Zepeda. Teachers who assign their works can add their poems to the author studies they do of these wonderful Native writers. For each writer in the book, you'll find their tribal nation listed by their name. 

The anthology has 161 poets! I recognize some names but not all of them. As we move what I hope is the end of the weight of the pandemic, I hope to read them all. I'm grateful to Harjo and the editors for the care that went into this anthology. I recommend you study her introduction to it, too. Among the passages that stand out for me is this one (page 3): 

Many who open the doors of this text arrive here with only stereotypes of indigenous peoples that keep indigenous peoples bound to a story in which none of us ever made it out alive. In that story we cannot be erudite poets, scholars, and innovative creative artists. It is the intent of the editors to challenge this: for you to open the door to each poem and hear a unique human voice speaking to you beyond, within, and alongside time. This collection represents the many voices of our peoples, voices that range through time, across many lands and waters.

One of the voices I found inside is Chief Seattle. Many people feel they know him and his writing, due to the ways a speech he gave in 1854 have been mis-used by non-Native writers. Some of you may recall the criticism I've written of Susan Jeffers's book that uses that speech. In the anthology you'll find a different excerpt. 

Over time, I'll write about poems in the book. For now, I want to draw your attention to the art on the cover. Yesterday as I gazed out the window, in the early dawn and in the late afternoon, I was thinking about the quality of the light. Beside me on the table was When the Light of the World Was Subdued. I wonder if my unconscious mind was at work, forming links from the light to the book cover. Here's the cover again, in a larger size than I used above:

This morning as I thought about the book I wanted to know more about Emmi Whitehorse. At Chiaroscuro, she wrote this about her work:

My paintings tell the story of knowing land over time - of being completely, micro-cosmically within a place. I am defining a particular space, describing a particular place. They are purposefully meditative and meant to be seen slowly. The intricate language of symbols refer to specific plants, people and experiences."

The art on the cover is titled Kin Nah Zin #223. Whitehorse created it in 1983. For me, it has depth that reflects the fact that we, Native peoples of the continent currently known as North America, have been here, always. And the qualities of the light--its very presence as rendered by Whitehorse--shine light on what was, and what will be, too. If I was a poet I might have the words needed to say what I feel as I look at that cover and think about the anthology and about Harjo, too, and the light she brings forth.

Yesterday (April 6, 2021) I watched a zoom event that featured Harjo. Like the poems she writes and the music she creates, the words she spoke yesterday are ones that I will return to. You can watch it, too, on YouTube. As noted above, I highly recommend When the Light of the World Was Subdued, Our Songs Came Through. Get a copy for yourself and ask your library to get a copy for their collections. 

And... a couple of ideas that take you from an admirer to an activist! If your institution is among those that are doing land acknowledgments, look for a poet of the people that your acknowledgment names. Use the anthology to find one, and read that poem at your gathering or meeting or conference. Go to your bookstore and library, and put in requests for other writings by the poets in your area. 

Highly Recommended! PEGGY FLANAGAN: OGIMAA KWE, LIEUTENANT GOVERNOR

On March 24th, Jean posted her review of Ella Cara Deloria: Dakota Language Protector. It is one of three terrific books published by the Minnesota Humanities Center. Read her review! Today, I'm sharing my thoughts on another book in that series. 

Highly Recommended!

Peggy Flanagan: Ogimaa Kwe, Lieutenant Governor

Written by Jessica Engelking

Illustrations by Tashia Hart

Published by Minnesota Humanities Center

Reviewed by Debbie Reese

Review Status: Highly Recommended

****

A few months ago, when I saw the cover of this book on social media, I was psyched! Well, let me say that again: 

I was psyched!!!! 

Across Native networks, we've been deeply supportive of Native people who run for state and national offices--especially Native women. I had come to know about Flanagan from friends and colleagues in Minnesota, and I was thrilled when, in 2018, she was elected as the Lieutenant Governor of Minnesota. 

That's Native context. 

Now, consider another context: biographies in children's literature. For a chapter in a book due out this year, Representations and Possibilities: Reading and Teaching with Diverse Nonfiction Children's Books edited by Thomas Crisp, Suzanne M. Knezek, and Roberta Price Gardner, Betsy McEntarffer and I did research on children's biographies of Native people. As you might guess, we found very few on women, very few by Native writers, and very few about Native people who were born after 1900. 

And now, consider state history standards. In their study of the standards, Dr. Sarah Shear and her colleagues found that eighty-seven of the state history standards to not mention Native history after 1900. 

Regular readers of AICL know that we write a lot about the need for books by Native writers that are set in the present day. They can function as a mirror for Native kids where they see a reflection of who they are, and a window for non-Native kids that can tell them that Native people are citizens or members of hundreds of distinct Native Nations and that we are here--in the present day. The state history standards are telling, aren't they? Kids are not taught that we are still here. Books like this biography of Flanagan fill a huge gap in what is available, but it ought to be inserted in those state standards documents, too!

If Betsy and I were writing that chapter on non-fiction today, we'd be including Engleking and Hart's biography of Peggy Flanagan. We might start with a close look at the cover. That, of course, is Peggy Flanagan, but study the illustration. 

On her blouse is a strawberry. Wild strawberries are a traditional Ojibwe food. Behind Flanagan are three flags. Not two, but three. One is the US flag, another is the Minnesota flag, and the third? Well--that's the White Earth Nation's flag:

Most readers may not notice the strawberry or the flag, but Ojibwe families will, for sure! Hart's illustrations and Engleking's words are mirrors of their identity. 

The subtitle for the book includes "Ogimaa Kwe." Those are Ojibwe words. Throughout the book, readers will find additional Ojibwe words--which adds another layer of the books mirror-like qualities for Ojibwe children. 

The biography starts in 1986 when Flanagan was in first grade in St. Louis Park, Minnesota. It is recess time, and Peggy is outside, playing. But she’s thinking about the lessons they were doing before recess. Her teacher had been talking about Christopher Columbus. Peggy knows her people were here before he was, and she knows the impact of Europeans on Native peoples, so, she’s not looking forward to going back into the classroom where she anticipates they’ll keep talking about him. Hart’s illustration for that page shows three kids at desks, taking notes as a teacher writes on the chalkboard. We can see Peggy’s page. She’s not taking notes. Instead, she’s sketched a sad face. Here's that page:

That, too, is a mirror of Native experiences in school. For far too long, Native children have been in classrooms where a teacher puts that myth forward, uncritically. I'm glad that's in there, and I hope it is the nudge teachers need to stop doing that! 

As we move through the book, we learn that Peggy and her mother needed food stamps. That honesty is important. We also learn that Peggy found teachers who believed in her. When we move to Peggy's college years, we learn that she went to St. Cloud State University in 1998 but transferred a year later, to the University of Minnesota. There, we read about how excited she was to walk into a classroom and see someone who looked like her. That person is Professor Brenda Child. An aside: Dr. Child has written excellent books for adults but she also wrote the children's picture book, Bowwow Powwow, which we at AICL highly recommend. The last chapter is about Flanagan being sworn in as Lt. Governor of Minnesota in 2019, and the back matter includes an Ojibwe timeline and a set of questions for discussion. Those are precisely the kinds of things that make it possible for teachers to more readily use the books in the classroom.

The illustrator, Tashia Hart, is also a writer. I’ve got her Gidjie and the Wolves in my to-be-read pile, and I follow her on social media. She’s working on a romance novel! Anybody who reads romance novels knows that genre is flooded with white women writing dreadful books that are marketed as being about Native people. 

As I sit here, re-reading what I've written about Peggy Flanagan: Ogimaa Kwe, Lieutenant Governor, I think you can tell that the book resonates with me, tremendously. It does that in another way. The book came out in 2020. In the "About the Author" note, I see this:

She currently resides in Minnetonka and is isolating in Elklader, Iowa...

Isolating. It is the first book I read that referred to the pandemic and its impact on all of us. Somehow, Engleking's reference to isolation touches on a tender place. As I write this review, we feel that we see hope at the end of a long year. Part of that light is seeing another Native woman assuming a leadership role. Of course, I'm referring to Deb Haaland of Laguna Pueblo, who was sworn in as Secretary of the Interior. She has worn traditional Pueblo clothing for many events, including at her swearing in. 

We need a biography of her, and of Sharice Davids, too. She's Ho-Chunk and was elected to Congress to represent Kansas, in 2019. Haaland was also elected that year, to represent New Mexico. 

I best hit the pause button on this post! I highly recommend Engleking and Hart's biography of Flanagan. As I noted up top, Jean reviewed another book in this three-book series, and we've got one more to do! That'll be Kade Ferris's book about Charles Albert Bender! 

Recommended: Ella Cara Deloria, Dakota Language Protector

 

Ella Cara Deloria: Dakota Language Protector

Written by Diane Wilson (Dakota)

Illustrations by Tashia Hart (Red Lake Anishinaabe)

Published by Minnesota Humanities Center in partnership 

with the Minnesota Indian Affairs Council

Reviewed by Jean Mendoza

Review Status: Highly Recommended

AICL readers, and especially middle-grade teachers! Don't miss the book launch for a new series that I wish had been available for my kids! 

You can register now to attend the online event Thursday, March 25, 2021, from 6:30 -8:00 PM (Central), to celebrate the publication of three biographies for students in 3rd-5th grade (and beyond). 

They are part of the Minnesota Humanities Center's new Minnesota Native American Lives series (created in partnership with the Minnesota Indian Affairs Council. The series will feature Ojibwe and Dakota people whose contributions deserve to be better known. Though the subjects of the bios all lived, or live, in what is currently called the state of Minnesota, they are figures whose impact extends well beyond the state borders. Represented so far are MN lieutenant governor Peggy Flanagan (Ojibwe), Ojibwe baseball star Charles Albert Bender, and Ella Cara Deloria, a Dakota anthropologist and language preservationist.

Heid E. Erdrich (Turtle Mountain Chippewa) and Gwen Nell Westerman (Sisseton Wahpeton Oyate) are the series editors. Each of the books is written by a tribally-affiliated Native author, and illustrated by Red Lake Anishinaabe artist Tashia Hart. We'll be reviewing each of the books on AICL, starting now with Ella Cara Deloria: Dakota Language Protector.

Author Diane Wilson (Dakota) follows Ella Deloria from her childhood on the Standing Rock reservation to the creation of a fellowship in her name at Columbia University in 2010, nearly 4 decades after her death in 1971. Wilson emphasizes Deloria's key role in preserving traditional Dakota stories and the Dakota language, and focuses on the life experiences -- including racism and poverty -- that influenced her. 

One fundamental influence was the way Ella's grandparents and parents interpreted the situation that Native people found themselves in during the time Ella was a child. She was born in 1889, when Native peoples were often, essentially, prisoners on their own drastically reduced homelands. They were still targeted for assimilation or outright destruction by the settler-colonizer government that had long sought full control of the resources on the continent. Ella's family saw advantages to being bilingual and bicultural -- knowing both their Dakota traditional ways, and those of the English-speaking Christian settler-colonizer culture. Ella's father was ordained as an Episcopal priest. Her younger brother, Vine, also became a priest (and as Wilson points out, was paid considerably less than his white counterparts). The late Dakota writer and intellectual Vine Deloria Jr. was Ella's nephew. 

Wilson shows how, even in the context of a rather remarkable family, Ella's intelligence, talent, and energy stood out. Ultimately, she used her education to protect her home language and promote greater general understanding of Native peoples and cultures. Along the way, she worked with well-known anthropologists such as Franz Boas, Ruth Benedict, and Margaret Mead. Mead became a friend. Boas was a valued mentor, though if we read between the lines of this biography, it seems that he also may have exploited her abilities and commitment. For some of the time she worked with him, she was so poorly paid that she and her sister had to live in their car. 

I especially enjoy the way Wilson begins each chapter with a quote from Ella Deloria's writing. This is ensures that young readers get to "hear" her voice. 

Teachers are likely to appreciate the "Extend Your Learning" section in the back of this book and the others in the series. The section includes "Ideas for Writing and Discussion," "Ideas for Visual Projects," "Ideas for Further Learning," and a timeline that starts in 900 (Common Era) and ends with Peggy Flanagan's swearing-in as lieutenant governor in 2019. 

As a mother, grandmother, and auntie of Native kids, it's hard for me to put into words how moved I am by the existence of this series. Overall, in terms of which Native people are seen as biography material, it doesn't seem that much has changed since my children were actually children. At the time, it seemed that most biographies of Native people were of military leaders (Sitting Bull, Geronimo), or of Sacagawea, or Pocahontas. My firstborn (now in his late 30s) is named in part for a Mvskoke ancestor (born around 1835) who was, himself, named for the visionary Shawnee leader Tecumseh.  So naturally, when he was young, I was pleased to find a biography of Tecumseh for his reading level. I grabbed it off the shelf to read aloud to him one day when he was ill. At the end, the author lamented the death of Tecumseh and the end of his dream of Native unity. We lamented it, too. But then the writer closed with the words, "... And the Indian way of life was gone forever." 

Grrr!!!

Lessons learned or reinforced: 1) Mom, ALWAYS read a book through before you share it. 2) Fortunately, if you say, "Well, that's messed up and we know better", your children will probably be open to critiquing anti-Native assumptions and historical inaccuracy with you. And critique it we did.

But we shouldn't have had to. Parents and teachers of Native kids should be able to spontaneously share a book about Native people with kids, without having That Conversation. If the Minnesota Native American Lives series stays true to its mission (and it seems sure to), it will allow us to have that confidence and comfort, with well-researched true life stories, written from Indigenous perspectives. 

So, check out the book launch if you are able. And ask your library to purchase the Minnesota Native American Lives series, and read it yourself! Children, Native and non-Native, need those books.

Highly Recommended! "Seasons of Alaska" board books from Best Beginnings Alaska

Let's Play Out! by Yaari Toolie-Walker

Button Up! by Angela Y. Gonzales

Mittens and Mukluks! by Joni Spiess

Bye-Bye Ice! by Carla Snow

Published by Best Beginnings Alaska in 2020

Reviewed by Debbie Reese

Review Status: Highly Recommended

With delight, I'm here today to tell you about four board books that came out in 2020 from Best Beginnings Alaska. The four books are about the seasons. I'm sharing them with you in December of 2020. So--I am starting with winter, by Joni Spiess (Inupiaq):

And here's spring, by Carla Snow (Yup'ik Upper):

Here is summertime, by Yaari Toolie-Walker (Siberian Yupik):

And here is fall, by Angela Y. Gonzales (Koyukon Athabascan):

This photograph is from "Athabaskan Woman" -- which is Angela Y. Gonzales's website. Go read her post! It has information about the book series: 

I adore these books! Of course, I'm going to add them to our Best Books of 2020 list!

The photographs of Alaska Native children doing things indoors and out that are specific to being an Alaska Native child--and doing the things that children do, no matter where they are, are heart-warming. As I read Mittens and Mukluks! I paused on the page that shows a child in a traditional coat that "Aana made for me." In smaller print is "Aana is Inupiaq for grandmother." I like seeing Native words in books, so that particular page is another reason I am so drawn to the books. 

And hey! Many children who receive books from the Dolly Parton Imagination Library in Alaska may already have them! How cool is that? Add them to your next book order. 

Highly Recommended: The Cabin, by Nasuġraq Rainey Hopson

The Cabin

Written by Nasuġraq Rainey Hopson

Published in Rural Voices: 15 Authors Challenge Assumptions about Small Town America

Edited by Nora Shalaway Carpenter; Publisher: Candlewick Press, 2020

Review Status: Highly Recommended

Reviewer: Debbie Reese

I grew up at Nambé Pueblo. Back in the 60s, our home was one of the handful that was along the washboarded dirt road that ended at our waterfalls. During those years the US government constructed a black top road so construction workers could build a dam to control the river that fed the valley. Many days I'd go to the river with my grandma to bring buckets of water to the house.  I spent many days and nights with my grandma. Her house and the one my parents built for their growing family were connected at one end (forming an L shape). Our front doors were not that far apart but I was a scaredy cat! After spending a day with Gram, I'd just sleep with her rather than dash across the yard from her door to ours. Too dark outside! Who knows what might get me?! Staying the night with her meant I'd stay in bed until she got the wood stove going. From under the quilts I could watch her adjust the damper till she had the fire just where she wanted it. Then, she'd call to me and I'd sit by the warm stove as she made some oatmeal and toast for me. 

All of that is in my mind this morning because last night, I read Hopson's "The Cabin." From the first word to the last ones, I was right there--in that cabin, with her teenaged protagonist. Of her story, Hopson writes:

My short story ‘The cabin’ is about a young Inupiaq teenager who encounters something strange while trapping.

As that teen wonders what she's hearing outside the cabin, she thinks it might be a bear. She's got a rifle. I'm reminded of the time when a bear was around the pueblo, getting into corn. Some of us kids were afraid to be outside, playing! Our parents were worried, too. Some got their rifles out, just in case they needed them. 

Life on a reservation, in a remote area, was wonderful. I have nothing to complain about. What I have is terrific memories, brought forth by reading My Cabin. It resonates with me on many levels. There's elders in it--like my Gram--so that's one key piece of it but there's so much more! 

You should definitely order a copy of Rural Voices! Hopson's story is excellent, and I look forward to reading the others in the book. I highly recommend My Cabin. And I wonder what else she's working on? If you're interested in knowing more about her, head over to her website. On her "about" page, you'll read that she's a tribally enrolled Inupiaq. 

Highly Recommended: APPLE (SKIN TO THE CORE) by Eric Gansworth

Monday, October 12 is Indigenous Peoples' Day. There will be many virtual events taking place. Top of my list is the one from Arizona State University. Eric Gansworth will open their day of events. When you click on through to register for his lecture (at noon, Central Time) you will see that Gansworth was selected to deliver the 2020 lecture in the prestigious Simon Ortiz Red Ink Indigenous Speaker Series. People in Native studies or who study the writing and scholarship of Native people will recognize names of people who have given that lecture. In the field, being selected to give that lecture has tremendous significance. Videos for most of the talks are available at the site. If you are new to your work in learning about Native writing, make time to watch and study all of them! 

Gansworth will be talking about his new book, Apple (Skin to the Core). Across the hundreds of  Native Nations, our life experiences differ. Census information has shown that about half of us grow up in suburban or urban areas. I'm glad to see books set in those spaces. 

Some of us grew up on our homelands or on reservations. Native-authored books for children and young adults that reflect a reservation sense-of-place with the integrity that Gansworth brings to his writing, are rare. On Indigenous Peoples Day, I'll be giving a talk, too. My audience will be Pueblo peoples. I expect a large segment of the audience to be people who are living on their Pueblo homelands. And so, I'm emphasizing books like Apple (Skin to the Core) that will speak directly to a reservation-based experience. Of course, everyone should read it and Gansworth's other two books, If I Ever Get Out of Here and Give Me Some Truth. 

As I read through his memoir, I linger over some of what I read... I want to tell you about this poem, or what I see on that page, but that's not the thrust of this post. A review is forthcoming. Today, I celebrate the gifts that Eric Gansworth gives to us, in every word he writes, in each poem, story, and book. 

Bio from Gansworth's website:

Eric Gansworth (Sˑha-weñ na-saeˀ), a writer and visual artist, is an enrolled member of the Onondaga Nation.  He was raised at the Tuscarora Nation, near Niagara Falls, New York.  Currently, he is a Professor of English and Lowery Writer-in-Residence at Canisius College in Buffalo, New York.

And a video about the book and the word "apple":

Highly Recommended: "What's an Indian Woman to Do?" in WHEN THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD WAS SUBDUED, OUR SONGS CAME THROUGH

What's an Indian Woman to Do?

Written by Marcie Rendon

Published in

When the Light of the World Was Subdued, Our Songs Came Through

Edited by Joy Harjo; Published in 2020

Publisher: W. W. Norton and Company

Review Status: Highly Recommended

Reviewer: Debbie Reese

****

 
The first three lines in Rendon's poem, "What's an Indian Woman to Do?" are these:

what's an indian woman to do

when the white girls act more indian

than the indian women do?

From there we read about the Indian woman's ex-husband and what he expected her to do. The poem doesn't tell us this explicitly, but to me, that expectation is based on stereotypes he had acquired. We read about the Indian woman's mother and her work and how their life meant they didn't have time to make the sorts of things that white girls make and sell at powwows--and how they use what they think is a Native-sounding name and start using a reservation accent... And that bit about them correcting the Indian woman's use of Native language... What they are doing is claiming a Native identity.  

In the introduction to When the Light of the World Was Subdued, Our Songs Came Through, Joy Harjo writes (p. 15): 

"Poems like Marcie Rendon's playful "What's an Indian Woman to Do?" both worry the edges of mixed identity and strongly claim Indigenous belonging."

Rendon's poem is about white women claiming to be Native, how they treat Native women, how they are embraced by others, and what that all feels like to a Native woman. If you follow Native people on social media, you likely know that we talk about sketchy claims to Native identity. From time to time, the national news will cover someone that has made a false claim to an identity. Most recently there were many articles about Jessica Krug a white woman who claimed to be Black. 

A few weeks before that, there were articles about "Sciencing_Bi"--a Native person created by a white woman named Beth Ann McLaughlin. That case was unusual. More often, we see a white person claiming to be Native in the ways that Jessica Krug was doing with her claim to being Black.

In Native communities, the word "pretendian" circulates as a term to describe someone who is making a fraudulent claim to being Native. Harjo addresses this issue in the Introduction to When the Light of the World Was Subdued, Our Songs Came Through (page 3):

Because we respect indigenous nations' right to determine who is a tribal member, we have included only indigenous-nations voices that are enrolled tribal members or are known and work directly within their respective communities. We understand that this decision may not be a popular one. We editors do not want to arbitrate identity, though in such a project we are confronted with the task. We felt we should leave this question to indigenous communities. 

When I launched American Indians in Children's Literature in 2006, I had already been studying children's literature about Native peoples for over a decade. In that capacity I, too, was confronted with the task of determining whether someone was Native or not. Generally, I take writers at their word when they claim to be Native. If an individual says they're enrolled or a citizen of a specific nation, I relax. I assume they are telling the truth. If they're not enrolled or a citizen, I take a closer look at their claim. Are they, as Harjo said, known in or working with their community? As you might know, all of this can get messy real quick! 

When someone's claim to an identity is questioned, some people (usually the person and their friends) quickly move to charge the questioner as "identity police." That label shifts the focus from the person making the claim to the person who is asking the question. The latter is criticized. In some cases, that has been me--Debbie, a Native woman. What, then, am I to do? To borrow Rendon's words, What's an Indian Woman to do?

Marcie Rendon's poem is about being a Native woman and seeing people who are not Native be embraced by society as if they are, in fact, Native. Can you see why Marcie Rendon's poem, What's an Indian Woman to Do?" might resonate with me? People trust what I write here on AICL and in my book chapters and articles. When a new book comes out and the author asserts a Native identity on the book jacket and in promotional materials, it is clear that their editor and publisher believe their claim. Have they vetted that claim? The care I take in studying and recommending (or not recommending) a book is important to a lot of people. I do the best I can do, given what I know about pretendianism, and the complexities of Native identity. Harjo continues:

And yet, indigenous communities are human communities, and ethics of identity are often compromised by civic and blood politics. The question "Who is Native?" has become more and more complex as culture lines and bloodlines have thinned and mixed in recent years. We also have had to contend with an onslaught of what we call "Pretendians," that is, nonindigenous people assuming a Native identity. When individuals assert themselves as Native when they are not culturally indigenous, and if they do not understand their tribal nation's history or participate in their tribal nation's society, who benefits? Not the people or communities of the identity being claimed.

One of the strengths of Harjo's work on this anthology is that teachers and librarians can learn from the many things she says in the introduction but there are other things to learn. Learn the names of the poets she's included. Learn the names of their tribal nations. For each poet she includes, Harjo provides information you need. Here's the entry for Rendon:

MARCIE RENDON (1952–), Anishinaabe, an enrolled member of the White Earth Nation, is a poet, playwright, and community activist. Rendon’s work includes two novels, most recently Girl Gone Missing (2019), as well as four children’s nonfiction books. She received the Loft Literary Center’s 2017 Spoken Word Immersion Fellowship. She is a producer and creative director at the Raving Native Theater in Minnesota.

As I read that entry and think about what it says, I think I know what Marcie Rendon's answer to "What's an Indian Woman to Do?" has been. She counters the claims to Native identity by being an activist, a writer, producer, and creative director whose works and words can help you see who we are--for real. 

Get a copy of When the Light of the World Was Subdued, Our Songs Came Through and make room in your budget to get books by Native writers in Harjo's book.   

Highly Recommended! THE SEA IN WINTER by Christine Day

Jean and I both read Christine Day's The Sea in Winter and are thrilled by what Day has written! A review is forthcoming, but I wanted to give you all a heads-up. Day's book comes out on January 5, 2021. Pre-order it! And check out her website. She's an enrolled citizen of the Upper Skagit tribe. 

Here's the book description, from Day's website:

It’s been a hard year for Maisie Cannon, ever since she hurt her leg and could not keep up with her ballet training and auditions.

Her blended family is loving and supportive, but Maisie knows that they just can’t understand how hopeless she feels. With everything she’s dealing with, Maisie is not excited for their family midwinter road trip along the coast, near the Makah community where her mother grew up.

But soon, Maisie’s anxieties and dark moods start to hurt as much as the pain in her knee. How can she keep pretending to be strong when on the inside she feels as roiling and cold as the ocean?

I read an advanced reader's copy in August and tweeted my excitement about it. The Sea In Winter is the first book I saw with the Heartdrum logo on the spine. In that tweet, I said:

Honestly, I'm trembling a bit as I hold an ARC of Christine Day's THE SEA IN WINTER in my hands, and gaze at the Heartdrum logo on the spine, created by Nasuġraq Rainey Hopson. Congratulations, and thank you, @CynLeitichSmith and all those who brought this imprint into being.

And I shared a close up photo of the logo:  

I passed my copy of the book over to Jean. She's spent a lot of time in that area and will be doing the review essay. Do order a copy, though, right now! 

Highly Recommended: The Forever Sky by Thomas Peacock

The Forever Sky

Written by Thomas Peacock
Illustrated by Annette S. Lee
Publisher: Minnesota Historical Society Press
Published in 2019
Reviewer: Jean Mendoza
Review Status: Highly Recommended

My husband Durango is an artist and writer, and I value his reactions to the children's books Debbie and I study. He isn't always drawn to what's in my Books to Review pile. But when The Forever Sky was delivered during our first day of "shelter in place", I invited him to look it over.  When he finished, he asked, "What age is this for?" I said, "I think it could be for older kids, but they're saying ages 3-7." "How about 74?" he asked. (He's 74).

That sounds right to me. The central idea of The Forever Sky has emotional impact across generations, though the vocabulary and plot are not complex. The book touches on familial love, loss and healing, imagination, and how humans tell stories that make sense of the world, all in the context of Indigenous (Ojibwe) knowledge and perspective.

The text by Thomas Peacock (Fond du Lac Band of Lake Superior Anishinaabe Ojibwe) would stand on its own, but the paintings by Annette S. Lee (Lakota-Sioux) add considerable depth and nuance. Example: The end papers (front and back) consist of a two-page spread showing two small, shadowy figures seated on a blue-gray rectangle at bottom, slightly off-center. They are surrounded by swirls of deep night-time blues and greens that are freckled with white dots that might be stars or fireflies, or some of each. The same painting is the basis for the title page, and it appears again at the end of the book, as background for the brief glossary.

Two figures wearing shorts and tee shirts appear on the pages of dedications and publishing information. The first page of the story shows the same figures lying on a blanket, pointing at the sky. They are young Ojibwe brothers, Niigaanii and Bineshiinh. They miss Nooko, their grandmother, who died recently. Throughout the book, the boys return to the meadow to watch the ever-changing night sky. Niigaanii, the older boy, tells his little brother Ojibwe stories their uncle has shared with him about the sky and the stars. Their uncle has said that Nooko's spirit is in the stars. So are all those who have passed on. In the northern lights, they are dancing together. Finally, one night, something happens that helps ease some of the boys' grief. This is a story of serious matters, yet it conveys hope and healing.

Not many artists are astrophysicists in the rest of their lives. What Annette Lee knows about the sky is evident in The Forever Sky, as well as in her web gallery. She also collaborated on some tribally-specific resources including the Ojibwe Sky Star Map - Constellation Guide (2014) and D(L)akota Sky Star Map - Constellation Guide (2014). Some of those constellations appear in The Forever Sky. Clearly, "Western" science is only one lens on what's overhead.

"The sky is so big it goes on forever," Niigaanii says. "That is why we call it Gaagige Giizhig, the Forever Sky."

I'd love to share this book with kids, and hear their ideas about what's going on in each of the pictures. Are the brothers present in every illustration? Do any of the constellations show up more than once? What does the artist do to depict Niigaanii, Bineshiinh, and their parents and uncle, at the end of the story?  Every page holds mystery, like the night sky, in keeping with the gravity of Peacock's subject matter.

Especially important, I think, is how the author anchors the boys' experience in the cycles that are part of Ojibwe life. Niigaanii tells Bineshiinh that they need to know the stories their uncle tells, "So when we are uncles we can teach our nieces and nephews." "So they will teach their nieces and nephews," his brother adds. And so "the stories will go on forever," Niigaani says.

Readers may notice that some illustrations depict the boys in shorts and tee shirts, but in others they seem to be dressed as if for a ceremony. Perhaps this shows that time is passing -- not just astronomical time but the calendar of an Ojibwe community's traditional events. Or perhaps some of those figures are not the boys and their uncle at all, but past and future relatives, telling and hearing the stories across generations.

The night sky has always given humanity a focus for its most challenging questions. The Forever Sky foregrounds some of those, from an Ojibwe perspective. What is the meaning of all that darkness, those many lights that brighten it? What happens when a person dies? Given that individual life on earth is finite, what role does a person, a child for example, have in the continuity of their community's ideas about the world? Peacock has addressed Ojibwe attitudes about disabilities in at least two of his other books, and he presents another facet of those in The Forever Sky.

As I wrapped up this review, I started reading the Ojibwe Sky Star Map Constellation Guide, mentioned earlier, which Annette S. Lee was involved with as first author (image below right).

This passage from its first page echoed what she and Thomas Peacock have created in The Forever Sky:

....Native star knowledge is disappearing as elders pass. One Ojibwe elder spoke of his vision of "the star medicine returning through the native youth." He specifically called them "star readers."

It struck me that Niigaanii and the uncle are some of those "star readers." Though I was already appreciative of what Peacock and Lee have done, my understanding of it has been deepened by the star map/constellation guide.

If you're among the many who can't leave home now because of COVID-19, this may be a good time to get more familiar with the night sky, and to do so with the children in your life, if you can.  Reading The Forever Sky together may be a way to start. And a book like the Ojibwe Sky Star Map Constellation Guide can add even greater depth to your night-sky experience.

Hear an archived interview with Thomas Peacock on Native America Calling. It's really good. Kirkus gave The Forever Sky a starred review, and Debbie and I include it on AICL's Best Books of 2019. Thomas Peacock also wrote The Dancer, which is also on our Best Books of 2019 list, and which Debbie mentions in her post about social distance powwow books.

Edited on 4/11 to add: On Monday, April 20, 3:00 pm, the Minnesota Historical Society Press will post a video of Thomas Peacock reading The Forever Sky aloud here. And see MHSP's The Forever Sky web page to link to coloring pages based on Annette Lee's illustrations.

Recommended: MY MIGHTY JOURNEY: A WATERFALL'S STORY

My Mighty Journey: A Waterfall's Story

Written by John Coy

Illustrated by Gaylord Schanilec

Published in 2019

Publisher: Minnesota Historical Society Press

Reviewer: Jean Mendoza

Review Status: Highly Recommended

The approach to the topic here -- the "life" of a waterfall -- is unusual in a children's book. That is, author John Coy (White) makes this geological feature the narrator of its own 12,000-year-plus story.  The book's remarkable visual images and minimal words make that work pretty well.

The waterfall of the title was the only one occurring naturally on the upper Mississippi River. Its underlying rock formations were such that the falls actually "moved" upstream over thousands of years as the rock eroded -- that's the Mighty Journey. It's now more or less anchored in place, in Minneapolis, MN.

The author could have focused strictly on the written history of settler-colonizer interactions with the waterfall. But he acknowledges the area's Indigenous presence over millennia, into the present time, in several ways. Men kill a woolly mammoth near the falls (an event which would have happened more than 10,000 years ago). People tell stories around a winter fire. A boy and his grandfather fish near the falls. From the flow of the story, it's clear that these are not colonizers, but Indigenous people.

Coy first names a Native nation when he describes "a Dakota man who calls me OWAMNIYOMNI" making an offering on an island in the falls. The facing page tells of the priest who "claims he's discovered me/ and says my name is le Saut Saint Antoine de Padoue/ the FALLS OF SAINT ANTHONY OF PADUA." I like what Coy does there. He puts an Indigenous (Dakota) name for the falls first. His choice of the word "claims" makes clear that this priest has "discovered" nothing. Not only that, the priest's name for the falls is quite obviously irrelevant to its existence. This hints at the  relationship of settler-colonizers to the falls.

The next reference to Indigenous people is on a page about a mother and daughter picking chokecherries and tending a garden. In addition to leaves and flowers of garden plants, that illustration incorporates a 1766 print of the falls, which shows canoes on the river above it, and tipis on the far bank. (More about Schanilec's illustrations in a moment.) This use of an image made by settler-colonizers marks a turning point: white-owned businesses will take over, and nearly destroy, the waterfall.

Several pages are then devoted to those decades of exploitation, the disaster, and the engineering feats that now keep the falls in place. The next and final reference to Indigenous people comes at the end of the story, in contemporary times, when Dakota drummers/singers are among the people near the restored bridge over the falls. Just as the falls are still here, this implies, so are the first people to see it.

The Author and Illustrator Notes explain how Gaylord Schanilec (White) and several collaborators created the illustrations, which tend toward the abstract and complex. It was a relief to see that he doesn't use stereotypical imagery like feathers or beadwork on the pages with Indigenous content. Instead, images of two stone spear points (found in what is currently called Minnesota) signify the killing of a woolly mammoth near the falls thousands of years ago. A copper fish hook (over 2000 years old, according to the author note) is part of the illustration for text about a boy and his grandfather fishing. Leaves and flowers of bean, squash, and corn plants signify the garden tended by an Indigenous mother and daughter. Finally -- this took me a while to notice -- the arrangement of autumn leaves, grass blades, and words on the next-to-last pages of the story is evocative of a medicine wheel design. For me as a reader, this doesn't seem like stereotyping or appropriation. It's more of a visual allusion to something an observer might see on the Dakota drum the author describes on those pages, as well as a reference to the cycle of seasons. 

I hope someone will comment with a correction if I've missed problems with the Dakota content or any of the imagery.

I was glad to see that some of the royalties from sales of the book will benefit Dream of Wild Health, a Native-owned farm whose mission is to recover "knowledge of and access to healthy Indigenous foods, medicines and lifeways." People from the farm did some collaborating with the book creators, and plants grown at the farm were "the basis for the images of growth and cultivation in the book."

I do recommend My Mighty Journey. It's a unique book, and contains much to consider, both for children and for adults. Before sharing it with children, though, adults ought to read it cover to cover, with special attention to the "More About" section and the detailed author/illustrator notes. That way they will have the historical information behind the story and the illustrations. They should also spend some unhurried time with each 2-page spread, noting what they see, and be prepared to invite children to do the same.

[Edited 3/6/2020. To be consistent with other posts, changed "Euro-American, US" to "White."]

[Edited 4/11/2020. At 3 p.m. on Monday, April 13, 2020, Minnesota Historical Society Press will post a pre-recorded video of John Coy reading and sharing My Mighty Journey.]