Highly Recommended: STITCHES OF TRADITION by Marcie Rendon; illustrated by Joshua Mangeshig Pawis-Steckley

Stitches of Tradition (Gashkigwaaso Tradition)

Written by Marcie Rendon (enrolled member of the White Earth Nation)

Illustrated by Mangeshig Pawis-Steckley (Anishinaabe; member of Wasauksing First Nation

Published in 2024

Publisher: Heartdrum (Imprint of HarperCollins)

Reviewer: Debbie Reese

Review Status: Highly Recommended

****

Regular readers of AICL know that I urge them to look at author's notes whenever they pick up a book by a Native writer. Doing that gives you (teacher, parent, librarian, professor, reviewer...) information that you probably did not get in school or college. That information supports the reading you'll do when you flip back to the front of the book and start reading the words and looking at the illustrations. 

Marcie Rendon's note for Stitches of Tradition is outstanding. Her note focuses on ribbon skirts. The second paragraph stands out to me:

Skirts are worn not only in traditional ceremonies but also as a political statement. There are many different teachings about the skirt, but the most important thing to remember is that the ribbon skirt says, We are here. We have survived genocide. We are resilient and beautiful.

Some words make me pump my fist and declare YES. Those words did precisely that. The dedication did, too. Rendon's is "For all the grandgirls." And the illustrator, Mangeshig Pawis-Steckley's is "To the women who raised me, and to all the matriarchs guiding us to a brighter future." Imagine more loud declarations from me. 

All right! So what is this story about? Here's the description:

An Ojibwe grandmother carefully measures and selects just the right colors of fabric, and her sewing machine hums whirr, whirr, whirr late into the night.

In the morning, her growing granddaughter has a beautiful new ribbon skirt to wear, a reminder of her nookomis and the cultural traditions that stitch together her family with love.

That basic scene repeats as that grandaughter gets older and her grandma makes another skirt. This part is especially dear because I can see it in my memory and imagine it in other Native homes across the country: 

Nookomis whips out a measuring tape. She measures how round I am from my belly button back around to my belly button. She measures how long I am from my waist to my ankle. She says, "You're growing so tall." 

Deep sigh--thinking about times when I was being measured or when I was doing the measuring for one of our traditional dresses--and for the time when I'll be measuring my granddaughter and reading this lovely book to that granddaughter! 

Now for the political part. At various times as the granddaughter gets older, she needs a new skirt. About halfway through the story we read that her auntie, who is a lawyer, is becoming a district judge. The granddaughter and grandma need new skirts to honor her at the upcoming swearing in. So Nookomis gets out that measuring tape and measures her granddaughter. And then, she says:

"Noozhishenh, now you must measure me." 
Sweet as can be! And oh so real! 

Here's the swearing-in page:

 

This book is full of goodness and reality of who Native people are, culturally and politically, and there's layers to it, too, with deep significance for Native people. For those who are Ojibwe there's things in the illustrations that will call to them. Obviously, I highly recommend Stitches of Tradition!  

It's Marcie Rendon!

Some time back I did a series of posts about Native illustrators whose work was being used in unusual ways -- like the city bus that features the work of Marlena Myles. 

Today on social media, I saw a photograph of a billboard. I paused and exclaimed "That's Marcie!" Here's what I saw: 

Photo credit: American Indian Community Housing Organization

Marcie is holding a copy of Sinister Graves which is the third book in her mystery series that feature a young woman named Cash Blackbear. 

The photo was shared on social media by the American Indian Community Housing Organization (AICHO) in Duluth Minnesota. They organization's post said:

"We can sing our hearts out, tell our stories, paint our visions." Quote by Marcie Rendon, White Earth Band of Ojibwe Nation tribal member and award winning author, poet, and screenplay writer. This billboard is now up on display next to AICHO's building in Duluth on 2nd Street for four weeks.

Miigwech, Marcie Rendon, for sharing your Indigenous stories that remind us who we are as a people, for advocating for women and issues that impact Indigenous peoples, and for all that you write!

To find more out about Marcie Rendon: www.marcierendon.com

Miigwech to McKnight Foundation for funding this and AICHO's Cultural Arts themed billboards and helping AICHO to promote, uplift and showcase Indigenous authors and artists.

I met Marcie at least ten years ago and have been reading what she writes since then. Below I'll share covers of some of her books. Go to her site and you'll find more she's written. When I read what she writes, I feel the stories. What I mean is that I know Native people like the ones she has in her books. Their good moments and the not-good ones, too. There's an intangible quality in her stories that may be possible because of her good heart. 

Let's start here. Listen to Marcie in this video:

Now, some of her books! This is her non-fiction picture book, Powwow Summer with photographs by Cheryl Walsh Bellville. 

Read her short story, "Wonder and Worry," in this middle-grade anthology:

I adore her story "What's an Indian Woman to Do?" in When the Light of the World was Subdued, Our Songs Came Through -- an anthology edited by Joy Harjo that should be in every English lit course in high schools across the country.

And here's the Cash Blackbear series. They're for adult readers but I wouldn't hesitate to share them with older teens. 

Look for and read her books. And if you're in Duluth, snap a photo of the billboard and share it on your social media accounts. And tag me if you can (I'm debreese on Twitter). 

Carter Meland's Call to Read Ojibwe Writers

Today, I am sharing a Facebook post written by by Carter Meland. He's a professor in American Indian Literature at the University of Minnesota, and a White Earth Anishinaabe descendent. With his permission, I'm sharing what he had to say about the non-Native writer, William Kent Krueger, who writes books you'll find over in the adult section of your library. [Update: See Tiffany Midge's essay, American(Indian) Dirt for another Native writer's criticisms of non-Native authors.]

Carter wants people to read Ojibwe writers instead of Krueger. So do I. He showed us a photo of four books. It includes books I also highly recommend: Murder on the Red River by Marcie Rendon, and Firekeeper's Daughter by Angeline Boulley.  

Why am I sharing Carter's post? Because people who read Krueger are often the same people who acquire and edit books at publishing houses, and people who review them for review journals, and people who buy them for libraries. 

If you are one of those people, your head is filled with problematic content about Native peoples that gets in the way of providing readers with accurate stories about Native people!

You know--and I know--that the field of children's literature is changing. That change includes letting go of the Tony Hillerman's and the William Kent Kruegers and so many other white writers who misrepresent Native peoples. Their appropriations and misrepresentations contribute to a cycle of harm. Let's disrupt that cycle. Read Native Writers. 

Here's Carter's post: 

****

From the American Indian Studies prof diaries, episode 271 (it's a long one in social media terms):

A relative posted about a book they really liked by a non-Native novelist who has made his career (and mucho zhooniya [$$$]) by writing about Anishinaabe people. A fellow by the name of Krueger. I have no argument over whether or not he is a good writer, but I think we need to have a discussion about cultural appropriation (I promised I wouldn't open the appropriation can of worms on my relative's timeline).

I read a couple of this novelist's early books and found them decent enough mysteries, but I could see absolutely no reason why the central character was Anishinaabe. His perspective (and the writer's perspective) are not rooted in Anishinaabe experience or teachings beyond factual research. I know in this genre of mystery that there needs to be educational material woven into the plot, but that just has the effect of making a life (even an imagined one) a museum placard. In reading a 2021 interview with the novelist, he mentions his protagonist is 3/4 Irish and 1/4 Ojibwe and the moment I see parsing blood quantum I see investment in settler colonialist systems of thought. We're not trying to replicate these ideas in front of a broad audience, we're trying to transform them, to let Anishinaabe values (as opposed to settler colonial ones) set the terms of conversation about identity and selfhood, not ideas that are designed to erase Native people from the landscape. Appropriation and the investment in settler colonial policy are two sides of the erasure coin.

This is a long setup to what I wanted to share, which is what you can do to push Native writers forward even if you feel the need to read works that may traffic in the sort of appropriation that Native communities too often experience. I think Sun Yung Shin and Tiffany Midge inspired this idea with ideas they've shared on fb over the years (miigwech!). This is what I wrote in response to my relative's post about the book for her and her friends to consider (slightly edited from the original):

As a specialist in American Indian Literature (and a White Earth Anishinaabe descendant) and knowing that many of you are liberal, good-hearted social justice people, I think we should at least think about issues of cultural appropriation in Krueger's books—he’s making bank on Anishinaabe experience. So what can you do to spread the wealth? I want to challenge all Krueger fans to also support Anishinaabe (Ojibwe) writers with their book purchases.

For those of you who want to read fiction that engages with the terror of boarding schools and the powerful healing potential in Anishinaabe worldviews, I suggest Indian Horse by Richard Wagamese. It is perhaps one of the most beautiful books I've ever read (I'm a lit prof and I read a lot!). For those of you who like more family drama-oriented work, read Linda LeGarde Grover's In the Night of Memory--the ending will leave you simultaneously smiling and weeping. For those of you who like Krueger's mysteries, go buy either of Marcie Rendon's Cash Blackbear mysteries (and a third is coming out soon) or Angeline Boulley's Firekeeper's Daughter--both these novelists write page-a-minute thrillers. All of these works are by Anishinaabe writers that center Anishinaabe characters in stories that center Anishinaabe cultural, social, and/or spiritual values not to translate them in some quasi-anthropological/educational way to non-Native audiences, but to share the power of Anishinaabe story and storytelling with those who want to hear more. The challenge I pose is that every time you buy or checkout a Krueger book, you also buy or checkout a book by one of the authors I've mentioned (or others you track down). This is a good way to increase the representation of Native writers and discover some great new books. It's a good way to change the world that you experience and to support (not appropriate) the work of Native storiers.

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.   

Recommended: THE CASE OF WINDY LAKE

I've really enjoyed Marcie R. Rendon's first two Cash Blackbear mysteries. Marcie (White Earth Anishinabe) writes them for adults, but older teens will also find them engaging. I recommend them. They aren't the focus of this post; just wanted to mention Murder on the Red River and Girl Gone Missing before moving on to the actual topic.

Michael Hutchinson is a citizen of the Misipawistik Cree Nation, and his The Case of Windy Lake (Second Story Press, 2019) is the first installment in the Mighty Muskrats Mystery series.

Hutchinson's Mighty Muskrats are four cousins--Atim, Chickadee, Otter, and Sam-- who live on the Windy Lake First Nation (pretty sure this is a fictional location) in what's currently called Canada. These tweens are smart, curious, and resourceful. They operate out of an incapacitated school bus on the outskirts of their reservation community.

It's tempting to do a chapter-by-chapter look at what makes this book so appealing -- but with mysteries, that can mean spoilers. So I'll just sum up.

The first case the Muskrats take on is the disappearance of an archaeologist who was working for a mining company in the area. There's a subplot involving a beloved older cousin who actively opposes the mining company's actions that she knows will endanger the community's water supply. A lot of Indigenous communities have dealt with well-educated fools coming in to study them, and lots of Native kids have relatives who are involved in Indigenous environmental rights (and they may be activists themselves). The book's main antagonist is a white mine manager; when he talks to the kids and their family members we see the same entitled hostility and disrespect Indigenous people encounter in real life today when they stand against exploitation and destruction of their resources.

The kids use the internet as well as knowledge of their community and their natural surroundings to solve the mystery, and they don't get in the way of law enforcement (their uncle) or need to be rescued. There's a nice all-for-one-and-one-for-all feeling about their relationships. For example, when they're about to go get information from someone in a restaurant, Atim says he's hungry. Chickadee asks, "Do we have any money?" and Otter pulls some from his pocket. They count it ... triumph! They can split an order of fries and a pop, and that's fine with everyone.

 Details add to the sense of place, as in Hutchinson's description of that restaurant:

The jukebox was playing "Love Hurts" by Nazareth. Scarred and scuffed blue-and-once-white tiles covered the floor. Sun streamed in from windows that overlooked the gas pumps, the parking lot, and the trucks buzzing north up the highway.... Half the restaurant was occupied by First Nations people hunkered over cups of coffee. A few tables held non-local miners and highway travelers. Laughter was coming from most tables and jokes were being shared between a few. The quiet tables held smiling Elders. 

The author's ability to show the reader a scene or a relationship is likely one reason The Case of Windy Lake won the Second Story Press Indigenous Writing Award.

Anyone looking in this book for a dysfunctional fictional rez community will have to look elsewhere. The people of Windy Lake have their troubles, but ties within families and between neighbors are solid and caring. And the resolution of the mystery is ... affirming, and that's all I'll say about it. You'll just have to read it to find out more. Then we can wait together for the next Mighty Muskrats book.

EDITED 10/3/19 with good news from two commenters. Val (10/2/19) notes that you can read the first chapter of The Case of Windy Lake on the Second Story Press Web site! And Cheriee Weichel reports that the sequel, titled The Case of the Missing Auntie, will be available in March 2020.

Edited 10/18/19 to add a link to CBC coverage of The Mighty Muskrats!

--Jean Mendoza

Anishinaabek Artist, Maria Hupfield, includes Debbie Reese on JINGLE DRESS

In 2015, artist and author, Julie Flett (she's Cree-Metis) created art that featured me, reading to children. That particular artwork was for Teaching Tolerance magazine. I experienced a range of emotions when she told me what she wanted to do. I was ecstatic, because, well.... Julie Flett's art and books are absolutely outstanding! That she chose to honor me--for the work that I do in children's literature--was overwhelming, in a good way.

Earlier this week, I learned that Maria Hupfield, a member of the Anishinaabek Nation from Wasauksing First Nation in Ontario, Canada, recognized my work in her art, too. Here it is:

See my name, there? On the right edge, see Marcie Rendon's name, too? If you've not read Marcie's Murder on the Red River yet, or her short story, Worry and Wonder, get on it! Marcie's writing is terrific! That photo was taken by Katherine Rose Sabo, a teacher who saw the dress recently in the National Museum of the American Indian, in New York City (Sabo reads AICL).

Here is Hupfield's statement about Jingle Dress:

The work Jingle Dress is a quiet act of cultural empowerment, modeled after the contemporary Native American woman’s healing and dance regalia of the same name, which consists of numerous metal jingles adorning its surface. Made from regular blue lined note paper, the jingles on this artwork carry the names of over 500 Indigenous authors from North America. Each jingle represents one voice; collectively they make visible the written contributions of Native Americans. The stillness and contemplation of this work comments on the dichotomy that exists between the value of objects and knowledge.

Here's a photo of the front and back of Jingle Dress, from Hupfield's website:

I gotta say--if I lived in New York City--or was within driving distance, I'd go there and study the dress. From what I see in the photos, it is exquisite! I don't know Maria Hupfield, but learning that I was included in this gorgeous work gave me a lift that I really needed. This, then, is a public thank you to her for including me in Jingle Dress!

Worry and Wonder, by Marcie Rendon, in SKY BLUE WATER: GREAT STORIES FOR YOUNG READERS

Marcie Rendon's "Worry and Wonder" is a short story in Sky Blue Water: Great Stories for Young Readers, edited by Jay D. Peterson and Collette A. Morgan. Here's a screen cap of the cover and a partial listing of the Table of Contents:

Published in 2016 by the University of Minnesota Press, Worry and Wonder is one of those stories where a character is going to be with me for a long time. I could call Worry and Wonder a story about the Indian Child Welfare Act--or, "ick waa waa." That's what Amy is calling it when the story opens. She's a seventh grader, sitting in her social studies class, doodling "ick waa waa" on her notebook as her teacher talks about the environment, and the importance of water.

Amy's  thinking back to the day before, when she'd been in court and the judge said she'd have to wait another three months before going to live with her dad. Amy's "ick waa waa" and images she draws by those words capture her frustration with ICWA. In those three months, however, she spends more and more time with her dad.

Are you wondering about ICWA? In the story, Amy's dad tells her about it:

He explained that ICWA stood for the Indian Child Welfare Act. He told her how in the 1950s and 1960s Indian children were taken from their families and placed with white families. How those children had grown up and fought to have federal legislation passed so that Indian kids, if they needed to be placed in foster care, would be placed with Indian families, like the home Amy was in, and how it was federal law, tribal law, that the courts and the tribes had to try and find immediate family for children to be reunited with, which is why the courts had found him and told him to come home to raise Amy.

Some of you know that ICWA was in the news in 2016. Five years ago, a Choctaw child was placed with a white foster home in California. Since then, her Choctaw father had been trying to get her back, but the white family had been fighting to keep her. In the end, her father prevailed. In March, when child services went to pick up the six-year-old child, the home was surrounded by media and protestors who thought the white family ought to be able to keep her. That family turned the case into a media frenzy, with one major news source after another misrepresenting ICWA, tribal sovereignty, and tribal citizenship. Right around then, I read Emily Henry's The Love That Split the World. In it, a white couple finds a work-around to ICWA and adopts a Native infant. That character's Native identity is central to that story, which draws heavily from a wide range of unattributed an detribalized Native stories that guide that character. As you may surmise, I do not recommend Henry's novel.

The case of the Choctaw child and Emily Henry's young adult novel were in my head as I started reading Rendon's story of Amy.

Rendon--who is White Earth Anishinabe--gives us a story that doesn't misrepresent ICWA or Native identity, or nationhood. My heart ached for Amy as I read, and it soared, too. Rendon's story is infused with Native content. Some, like the water ceremony, are explicit. That part of the story is sure to tug on the heart strings of those who are following the Standing Rock Sioux Tribe's fight to protect their water from Big Oil. There are other things in the story, too, that Native readers will discern.

Rendon's Worry and Wonder 

is filled with mirrors for Native readers. 

From start to finish, Rendon's short story is deeply touching. I highly recommend it and look forward to more from her. In my not-yet read pile is Murder on the Red River, due out in 2017 from Cinco Puntos Press. It may be one of the books I'll recommend as a crossover (marketed to adults, but one that teens will enjoy).

Above I showed you a partial listing of the Table of Contents. I've yet to read Anne Ursu's story, but I look forward to it. Her character, Oscar, in The Real Boy is like Amy. In my heart. Get a copy of Sky Blue Water. 

Use of "Columbus discovered America" leads to book being recalled

Those who follow developments specific to depictions of Native and People of Color in children's and young adult literature know that A Birthday Cake for George Washington and When We Was Fierce were recalled days after or before their release dates.

Another book is being recalled, days before its release. In this case, the book is Sky Blue Water. The error in it will be revised. The existing 4000 books are being recalled by the publisher.

On August 28th, author Shannon Gibney, posted a photo of the page in the forthcoming Sky Blue Water that said "Christopher Columbus discovered America" on her Facebook page. She has a story in the book, which is comprised of several short stories for children in grades 4-7.

Gibney wrote to the editors about that line and a few days later, the University of Minnesota Press (it is the publisher) decided to recall the book. It is not going away forever--which is good to know--because it has some terrific writers in it, including Marcie Rendon. She's an enrolled member of the White Earth Anishinaabe Nation. Marcie's story is "Worry and Wonder." It is about a child whose placement is being deliberated under the Indian Child Welfare Act.

That "Columbus discovered America" line is in the Foreword, written by Kevin Kling. Here's the paragraph (Kindle Locations 119-122):

From the Boundary Waters you can canoe all the way to Hudson Bay. Some believe that the Vikings navigated from the Atlantic Ocean to Minnesota more than a hundred years before Christopher Columbus discovered the Americas. It’s possible we paddled the same waters, fought the same currents.

That sentence is jarring. And yet, there it is.... uttered by Kling, and okayed by the editors... I think Kling and the editors are probably aghast with that line. How, they're probably wondering did it get there? Kling is probably wondering why he put those words in that foreword, and, the editors are wondering why they didn't notice them and ask him to revisit them.* Obviously, that line is so much a part of the American psyche that it gets said, written, and then, not heard and not seen by millions of people as a problem. An error.

I'm glad that the press is recalling the book so they can correct that error.  Here's a passage from the The Star Tribune's article:

"In addition to the recall and reprint, we are going to examine how this error got by the editorial safeguards we have in place to prevent such inaccuracies from making their way into our published books," Hamilton said.

Hamilton is the assistant director of marketing.

University of Minnesota Press publishes some excellent books that I recommend to writers, editors, and book reviewers. Kim TallBear's Native American DNA and Jean O'Brian's First and Lasting are two examples. Books like this can help people learn things that aren't taught in schools--be that elementary school or a college classroom.

Thanks, Shannon Gibney, for speaking up about that line. I think it is another example of the ways that social media can be used to effect change.

I wonder what the revised Foreword will be? Will that line simply be cut? Or, will the editors use its appearance as an opportunity to tell readers about their collective blindness to the line in the first place?

High profile writers have stories in the collection. Will they, in their speaking engagements, talk about that error? I hope so! Only by having a lot of discussion of the problem will we get to a place where errors like that won't happen again.

Sky Blue Water: Great Stories for Young Readers, edited by Jay D. Peterson and Collette A. Morgan, was scheduled for release on September 15th.

*At 5:28 PM on Sept 1, 2016, Ms. Hamilton wrote to tell me the following:

The phrase "discovered the Americas" was introduced in editing and not written by Kevin Kling. It was introduced by an editor and was missed in review by the U of MN Press.

Kevin’s original sentence was: "It is believed that the Vikings navigated from the Atlantic to Minnesota over a hundred years before Columbus.” 

It was changed to: "Some believe that the Vikings navigated from the Atlantic Ocean to Minnesota more than a hundred years before Christopher Columbus discovered the Americas.”

She said they deeply regret that phrase, because it is inaccurate and out of step with the book. They are taking immediate steps to correct it. 

"Mom, when Jesus was born, where were all the women?" Marcie Rendon's response is HANNAH: THE MIDWIFE WHO DELIVERED JESUS

Marcie Rendon's daughters were raised in a matriarchal home. On Christmas Eve, 1990, one of her daughters asked her "Mom, when Jesus was born, where were all the women?" When I read that question, I thought to myself 'Oh yeah! There's only one female in that story!'

Marcie's response to her daughter's question is this e-book, Hannah: The Midwife Who Delivered Jesus. 

As I read the story Marcie created, I felt such warmth and goodness radiating from Hannah, and from that scene in the stable, and from the newborn babe, too. It is a deeply satisfying story. In addition to Hannah, you'll meet the innkeeper's daughter. It isn't graphic and it isn't anti-male in any way. It's just a beautiful story. I highly recommend it. 

Hannah: The Midwife Who Delivered Jesus is one of those books that you can't pin to a particular grade level. If you're not afraid of talking with students/patrons or your own elementary-aged kids about how babies are born, you can read this aloud to them. Older kids can read it on their own.

I had to create an account with SMASHWORDS to download it, but that was simple enough to do. The book itself is priced at $4.99. 

Marcie Rendon's POWWOW SUMMER: A FAMILY CELEBRATES THE CIRCLE OF LIFE (2013)

Back in the 1990s when I started graduate school, I read Marcie Rendon's Powwow Summer: A Family Celebrates the Circle of Life. Originally published by Carolrhoda Books in 1996, I'm delighted to see that it is back in print. This time, it is a paperback published by the Minnesota Historical Society Press. Here's the cover:

Isn't it gorgeous? Powwow Summer is full of solid information about Native people of today. Its text and photographs are what captivated me when I first read it. It wasn't another book about long-ago-and-far-away-tribeless-stereotypical-Indians. As I turned each page, I learned a lot.

See, I'm tribally enrolled at Nambe Pueblo, in northern New Mexico. I grew up there. From my parents, grandparents, and elders, I learned about us and how we do things. That means the material things we do (cooking traditional foods) and the spiritual things we do, too (our dances are a form of prayer). My photo albums have photos of Nambe kids playing outside, helping their grandma's cook, and, photos of them in traditional clothing. I know a lot about who we are.

Marcie's book taught me about her people, which are the Anishinaabe (I met Marcie several years ago. See my review of her play, "SongCatcher: A Native Interpretation of the Story of Frances Densmore"). The text and photographs in Powwow Summer provide a depth of information that is tribally specific.

Marcie asks questions that help the reader frame the information within their own family context (p. 3):

Does your family have a ritual of going to church or synagogue every weekend? Does someone in your family play a sport, and do the rest of you attend to cheer that person on?

If you're looking for top notch books to add to your shelves this month (November is Native American Month), include this one. (Note: Back in 1996 when I launched American Indians in Children's Literature, one of the first books I wrote about was Powwow Summer.) 

The details:
Title: Powwow Summer
Author: Marcie Rendon
Illustrator: Cheryl Walsh Bellville
Publisher: Minnesota Historical Society Press
Year: 2013

Marcie Rendon's SongCatcher

A few weeks ago, I met a woman whose work inspires me on many levels. That woman is Marcie R. Rendon, an enrolled member of the White Earth Anishinabe Nation. That's her in the image to the left, and isn't that an awesome poem overlaid on the pic?

As regular readers of American Indians in Children's Literature know, I am highly critical of the uncritical use of stories collected in the late 1800s and early 1900s by people who thought we (American Indians) were about to go the way of the dinosaurs. By that I mean vanish from the face of the earth. Go extinct. Cease to exist.

The people doing the collecting were not Native. The collectors worked for the Smithsonian. Some (most?) of them didn't know much about what they were looking at when they turned their non-Native eyes on Native people going about our lives. The result of that was a whole lot of misinterpretation.

And, in the name of research and science, those collectors would try to gain access to things the tribes didn't want them to see. Frank Hamilton Cushing was notorious about that. He was out at Zuni. Elsie Clews Parson was at Nambe and amongst the Pueblos, and she did some pretty outrageous things, too. Going where she wasn't wanted, recruiting informants, and then, calling one of them a liar in one of her reports. To Parson, I'd say "how do you know it was just one person who lied to you?!"

And that is why I'm so excited by Marcie Rendon's "SongCatcher: A Native Interpretation of the Story of Frances Densmore." It is a play, published in Keepers of the Morning Star: An Anthology of Native Women's Theater. Edited by Jaye T. Darby and Stephanie Fitzgerald, the anthology was published by the UCLA American Indian Studies Center. Available in paperback, the cost is $25.

Marcie's play is about a collector named Frances Densmore. I'd love to see it on stage!

The setting is present day. A young Native man named Jack and his Native girlfriend Chris are the main characters. Chris was raised with her Native community. Jack was not. He knows he's Native, and he goes to powwows and hangs out with Native people. He wants to know more, though, about his own tribe, and he especially wants a song of his own. Bill is an older Native man who visits with Jack and Chris in their apartment. Like Chris, Bill was raised knowing his community. Both Chris and Bill tell Jack that the song will come to him, that he has to listen for it.

Jack is impatient and rather than listen patiently, he decides to find a song. To find it, he turns to Frances Densmore's books and recordings.

Jack's activity (learning his heritage from a book) is not ok! All through his research process, Spirit Woman is near him, trying to give him a song. She's on stage, but he can't see her. He (and Chris and Bill) also can't see Frances Densmore when she is on stage. She's there a lot. Anytime Chris or Bill are talking, she goes right beside them, notebook in hand, and writes down what she hears them saying.

I'll stop, there, and let you get the play and read it yourself. As the play progresses, fascinating things are revealed. Marcie's play is a page-turner! If you are a writer that uses the Smithsonian archives (the Bureau of American Ethnography), don't do it! Or, at the very least, read Marcie's play before you do...

SongCatcher can be used in high school and college classes in English, Theater, Creative Writing, History, and of course, Anthropology. If your school has classes in Social Justice, use it there!

Later this week, I hope to find time to write about Marcie's play, The Rough Face Girl, comparing it to Rafe Martin and David Shannon's retelling of that story. I'll say this much. He got it wrong.