Showing posts with label Pub Year 2019. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pub Year 2019. Show all posts

Friday, July 19, 2019

Highly Recommended: AT THE MOUNTAIN'S BASE by Traci Sorell, illustrated by Weshoyot Alvitre

In February, 2018, Penguin announced it was launching a new imprint, Kokila, that would center "stories from the margins with books that add nuance and depth to the way children and young adults see the world and their place in it." 

On September 17 of this year (2019), Kokila will release At the Mountain's Base by Traci Sorell (she's a citizen of the Cherokee Nation). Illustrated by Weshoyot Alvitre (she's Tongva/Scots-Gaelic), it is an all-to-rare book: it is written and illustrated by Native people, and published by one of the Big Five publishers. Being published by a major publisher means a lot of visibility. The book will be sent to bloggers, copies will be given away at conferences, and review copies will be sent to the major review journals.

HIGHLY RECOMMENDED!


On the opening pages, the words and art invite us to come closer and closer with each page turn. It starts with us looking at a mountain, and then a hickory tree, and then a cabin, and then, we look in the window of that cabin and see a person sitting by a wood stove. 

That person is a grandmother, weaving. Her grandchild watches her fingers, weaving the strands of fiber that frame the illustrations up to this point in the story. But, this grandma is worrying, as she weaves. The grandchild is not the only person with the grandmother. Other members of the family are there, too, singing. 

On the wall behind them is a photograph of a woman in uniform that tells us what the worry is over. The song they sing is about the person in that photograph. Turning the page, we see--from above--the cockpit of an airplane. Inside the cockpit is the woman in the photograph. She's a pilot, and as she flies her plane, she prays for peace, because of the people inside that cabin at the base of that mountain. 

If I were to count the words in this book, I think there would be less than 50, but they carry so much power, so much beauty, so much strength! The art is that way, too. The colors and arrangement convey a quiet strength. Together, they are breathtaking!

****

The first paragraph of the author's note tells us that Sorell's poem is about a fictional Cherokee family but that Native women have served and continue to serve in wars, and that they receive strong support from their families. Note that Sorell (and I, in writing this paragraph) did not specify US wars. Sorell starts by saying that women have served in intertribal conflicts. Those pre-date the US. That's a seemingly small detail but it shifts that "center" from the US and US wars to Native people and the wars that our people have fought over time. 

The second paragraph tell us about a specific woman: Ola Mildred "Millie" Rexroat, who was an Oglala Lakota pilot in World War II. In 2009, she received the Congressional Medal of Honor, and in 2017 (a few months after her death), Ellsworth Air Force Base in South Dakota renamed and dedicated a building in her honor. 

****

Facing that author's note is the final illustration of the book. From behind, we see that pilot, walking up to the cabin at the mountains base. It is a stunning work of art. 

I highly recommend At the Mountain's Base by Traci Sorell and Weshoyot Alvitre. I hope you'll pre-order it. And thank you, Kokila, for bringing this book into the lives of Native and non-Native children. 

Tuesday, May 28, 2019

Personal news: AN INDIGENOUS PEOPLES' HISTORY OF THE UNITED STATES -- FOR YOUNG PEOPLE

Book cover for Indigenous Peoples History of the United States


On July 13, 2015, I received an invitation to adapt An Indigenous Peoples History of the United States, for young adults. Written by Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz, I had already spent time with the book and was intrigued with the idea. Originally published by Beacon in 2014, it is packed with information and spans hundreds of years and thousands of miles.

photograph of Jean Mendoza and Debbie Reese
Was it possible, I wondered, to shape it into something that young adults and classroom teachers could use? I responded to the invitation by saying "only if Jean Mendoza can do it with me."

Their answer was yes, and so, we got to work. A little over four years will have lapsed when the book is released on July 23, 2019. We worked several hours almost every day for three years, taking week-long breaks for holidays or vacation, revising the text.

Jean and I are parents but we've also taught schoolchildren, and we taught in teacher education departments at the University of Illinois and elsewhere. We had children, teens, and teachers in mind every step of the way.

"Shall we do a map, here?" and "Maybe we need to add a definition box, right here..." and "Let's add a provocative question box, here!" are some of the things we'd say to each other as we worked.

In a few weeks we'll have finished copies in hand. I can't wait to see the finished book! Right now, we've both got a bound ARC that doesn't have the index and some final revisions in it.

I think we did some really good work. I know we'll be reading it with fresh eyes and groan about something we said or didn't say--that's the nature of writing--and will be keeping track of such things for (we hope) a second or third printing, or an updated version if the book sells well enough.

I've been using Twitter to share some photos I've taken from inside the ARC:


As of today it has gotten starred reviews from Kirkus and Booklist. That's cool, but we want to hear from readers. We are especially interested in hearing from Native readers (students, parents, teachers, scholars), especially about passages that have errors or other problems. Let us know! We look forward to hearing from you.

****

Back on July 3 to post reviews! 

On April 22, 2019, the book received a star from Kirkus. Here's an excerpt: 
With an eye to the diversity and number of Indigenous nations in America, the volume untangles the many conquerors and victims of the early colonization era and beyond. From the arrival of the first Europeans through to the 21st century, the work tackles subjects as diverse as the Dakota 38, the Ghost Dance and Wounded Knee, the American Indian Movement’s takeover of Alcatraz, and the Dakota Access Pipeline resistance. 
The June 1 issue of Booklist included a starred review. That review appeared online on July 2nd as Booklist's Review of the month. Here's an excerpt:
There is much to commend here: the lack of sugar-coating, the debunking of origin stories, the linking between ideology and actions, the well-placed connections among events past and present, the quotes from British colonizers and American presidents that leave no doubt as to their violent intentions. Built-in prompts call upon readers to reflect and think critically about their own prior knowledge. Terms like “settler” and “civilization” are called into question. Text is broken up by maps, photographs, images by Native artists, propaganda, and primary-source texts that provide more evidence of the depth to which the U.S. economy was—and still is—rooted in the destruction of Indigenous lives. 
The July issue of School Library Journal (if the review is shared online, I'll be back with a link) includes a starred review, too! An excerpt (from the Barnes and Noble website):
Source notes and a recommended list of fiction and nonfiction titles, picture books, and novels by Indigenous authors are in the back matter. VERDICT Dunbar-Ortiz's narrative history is clear, and the adapters give readers ample evidence and perspective to help them to engage with the text. A highly informative book for libraries serving high school students.
Back on July 21 to add that the Cooperative Children's Book Center at the University of Madison named Indigenous Peoples' History as its Book of the Week on July 8, 2018.


Thursday, April 25, 2019

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

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

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

Image from inside of book, showing Thomas Jefferson on a horse, an Indian peeking from behind a tree, and an Black woman (likely enslaved), holding a US flag.

As I study the page, I have these thoughts:

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

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

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

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

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

Wednesday, March 13, 2019

An early look at the endpapers in FRY BREAD by Kevin Noble Maillard and Juana Martinez-Neal

Note on Oct 15, 2019: I highly recommend Fry Bread. A review is forthcoming. --Debbie

On Monday (March 11, 2019), I was on Twitter and saw this tweet about Fry Bread, written by Kevin Noble Maillard (he's a member of the Seminole Nation, Mekusukey band) and illustrated by Juana Martinez-Neal:



I knew this book was in the works and that it would be out this year. So, of course, I clicked on the link right away and read the interview! Here's the full cover (from John Schu's blog):



In the first part of the interview, Kevin talked about his joy at seeing the grandma and grandson on the cover. He said that we don't see that kind of cover--that pairing--on children's books, and as I sift through my memory, I think he's right. I cannot recall a cover of a Native grandma and her grandchild! Grandma's in Native families are so important. This is a delightful image!

Next, John Schu had a comment for Juana. As I read his words and Juana's reply, it was clear to me that he has learned a lot over the years since I first came to know him on Twitter. He said:
Juana, I think Fry Bread's endpapers are the most powerful endpapers I've ever seen.
What, you might be wondering, would make him say that? Juana replied:
Oh, this means so much! You have no idea. I normally figure out the endpapers for the book while I'm deep in the middle of sketching the interior spreads. But this book was different. While I was working on ideas and thumbnails for Fry Bread, the idea for what the endpapers should show came to mind. It was a feeling. I could see the children and parents following the names with their fingers looking for the name of their Nation or Tribe.
I was riveted with her words and what those endpapers might look like, so I wrote to Kevin to ask him. He told me how they made hundreds of phone calls to tribal offices to confirm the way they would be listed. I was even more intrigued! "Kevin, please... can I see them?" Soon after, he sent me the endpapers. And I did exactly what Juana said she imagined Native parents doing.... I looked and looked till I found Nambé (update on Friday March 15 at 11:05 AM: when the final copy is published, the letter e in Nambé will have the accent mark):



The endpapers at the front and back of the book are full of names of tribal nations. What you see there is an enlarged screen cap. On the actual page, our tribal name fills a tiny bit of space but in my heart, it is huge. I want that book in my hands right now so I can show it to people. Fry Bread comes out in October of this year.

I cannot wait to give this book to kids at Nambé. As soon as I get a copy of the book, I will be back with a full review.


Friday, March 01, 2019

Not Recommended: A MONSTER LIKE ME by Wendy S. Swore

Earlier this week, a reader wrote to ask me about A Monster Like Me by Wendy S. Swore. I was able to get a copy from NetGalley. Published by Shadow Mountain Press, it is due out on March 6. Here's the description:
Sophie is a monster expert. Thanks to her Big Book of Monsters and her vivid imagination, Sophie can identify the monsters in her school and neighborhood. Clearly, the bullies are trolls and goblins. Her nice neighbor must be a good witch, and Sophie’s new best friend is obviously a fairy. But what about Sophie? She’s convinced she is definitely a monster because of the “monster mark” on her face. At least that’s what she calls it. The doctors call it a blood tumor. Sophie tries to hide it but it covers almost half her face. And if she’s a monster on the outside, then she must be a monster on the inside, too. 
Being the new kid at school is hard. Being called a monster is even harder. Sophie knows that it’s only a matter of time before the other kids, the doctors, and even her mom figure it out. And then her mom will probably leave—just like her dad did. 
Because who would want to live with a real monster?
****



The description of A Monster Like Me is kind of awkward. We're told that Sophie can identify monsters. Some are "bullies and trolls and goblins" but does the mention of "fairies" within that framework tell us that she thinks they, too, are monsters? 

I'm going to go along with the use of the word, but doing so is unsettling when the monsters are Native characters. Equally unsettling is that A Monster Like Me got a starred review from Booklist.  

Sophie has a hemangioma on her face. The author, Wendy S. Swore, had one on her forehead, which is why some of the promotional materials say the story is inspired by real events in the author's life. 

The story is set in Portland, Oregon. Most people know that there are many Native nations in the place currently known as Oregon. 

In chapter thirteen, "Ghostly Falls," Sophie, her friend Autumn, and her mom are at Multnomah Falls. As they walk on the trail, Sophie sees something in a puddle and picks it up (p. 127):
A picture of a beautiful Native American girl in a white dress stares back at me from the soggy flier with the headline Princess of Multnomah Falls. Gently I turn it over, but the print is dirty and hard to read.
"What did you find?" Mom peeks over my shoulder. "Oh, the legend of the falls. I always liked that one."
"The paper says something about a princess?" Autumn points to the faded image. "I didn't even know there was a king here." 
"No king," laughs Mom. "She was the Multnomah chieftain's daughter."
With a gasp, Autumn claps her hands. "A princess and a chief? How romantic!"
Her mom goes on to tell her that people were dying of a "great sickness." The "chief" called his council and "best warriors" together to find a cure (p. 127).
"Then, an old medicine man told them the only way to save the tribe was to sacrifice a young woman by throwing her off the mountain to appease the Great Spirit."
Sophie's mom tells her that at that time, there was no waterfall there. The chief didn't want to sacrifice any of the girls, but then, his daughter's betrothed got sick. The daughter/princess decided to save him and everyone. So, she jumped. Sad, the chief asked the Great Spirit for a sign that his daughter was (p. 128):
"safe in the land of the spirits. That's when water started flowing over the top of the cliff." 
Sophie has the story of the princess in her mind as they walk on the trail. At the top, she holds to the railing and peers over (p. 129):
Someone walks up beside me and thin white gauze brushes my face. I brush it away and scoot over so the lady's dress doesn't blow into me again. Then I freeze as I take in her wispy white dress and long black hair. Her face looks different than it does in the picture, but the ghost of a Native American princess can probably look however she wants to look.
The woman starts talking to Sophie, pointing with her chin, telling her that she had fought alongside fireman when the lodge was on fire. Sophie wonders if the fireman knew that "the spirit of a Native American princess was standing beside them, adding her magic to the fight that night." She wonders if her mom and Autumn can see the woman. The woman is wearing a pendant that is a crystal nestled in gold leaves. Sophie asks if it is magic. The woman says it is, to her, because she had made it herself, and that the magic worked for her. When the woman touches Sophie, she feels a jolt of electricity. She's never been touched by a ghost before. Autumn and her mom rush up beside her, looking over the railing, too. Sophie asks Autumn (p. 131):
"Did you see her?" I whisper in her ear.
"See who?"
"The princess!" I point down the trail and gasp.
The path is empty.

Debbie's comments:

"The path is empty." is the last sentence in that chapter.  So--one question is this one: Is that "Princess of Multnomah Falls" a story that Native people told/tell? Or is it a White Man's Indian? I use that phrase from time to time, borrowing it from Berkhofer's book (that's the cover on the right side of this paragraph). It is an "account of the self-serving stereotypes Europeans and white Americans have concocted about the “Indian” [...] and manipulated to its [western civilizations] benefit." 

I've spent the afternoon looking through my sources but can't find anything (other than a sketchy website) that says it is a Native story. A "medicine man" telling his people they have to sacrifice a young girl to appease a wrathful "Great spirit"---that doesn't ring true to me as a Native story. 

I did find a site that has a detailed history of the dedication of The Vista House--and information about "Chief Multnomah." The person who wrote it, Dr. David Gene Lewis, worked for several years for the Confederated Tribes of the Grande Ronde Community of Oregon and is a member of that nation. He wrote:
On June 7th, 1918 the state of Oregon dedicated the Vista House built between 1916 and 1918, at the crest of Crown Point overlooking the Columbia River. The opening of the house, really a scenic vista wayside and pioneer memorial, commemorated and called attention to the opening of the Columbia River Highway. The House was to be the memorial to the spirit and grit of the pioneers who first came down the Columbia to the Oregon Territory.
Dr. Lewis has several historical photos on his site along with the research he's done. The Oregonian (newspaper) published a narrative of the dedication ceremony. The ceremony and narrative, too, were created by "the Rosarians." Lewis writes that the Rosarians were a romantic cultural organization with a king and a queen. In their ceremony, they meet a "redskin" called "Chief Multnomah" who realizes that "his days of rule are over." So, he lays down his bow and arrow and leaves, disappearing near the base of the falls (go read the whole thing). 

I include Dr. Lewis's account here because the Rosarians wrote about the Native man as being "a ruler" much like kings and queens of Europe. Characterizing him as a "ruler" (king) creates the space for a daughter who would be a "princess" like the one that Swore wrote into her story. Sophie's mom rebuts the "king" part of the "legend" but doesn't tell Autumn that her use of "princess" is wrong, too. Sophie and Autumn's thinking of a Native American "princess" remains intact--and so does the reader who holds that wrong idea of Native princesses! 

In the rest of that legend, we're expected to believe in a wrathful "Great Spirit." That doesn't work for me. It sounds far more like a white writer--maybe a Christian one--creating a legend. Indeed, in the twitter thread I started on March 1, an individual pointed me to "The Legend of Multnomah Falls" written in 1905 by Susan Williamson Smith. You can see the digitized copy online. It lines up with my thinking that this whole princess story is a White Man's Indian. 

Moving to the woman Sophie meets at the rail... the spirit, we're told, of that princess. I took care to include the way Swore has her pointing: with her chin. I did that because she seems to have a bit of info about Native gestures. Many Native people do that and I've seen some White writers use it. To them it might seem to lend authenticity to their writing but within the larger picture of what they've written, it is a #fail. This princess is wearing a crystal that the wearer (and Sophie) think has magical power. 

That crystal is a significant problem. It fits right in with the New Age writings. It is important to the arc of Swore's story and how Sophie deals with the hemangioma, but tying it to this "princess" is a major problem.


In chapter sixteen, "Zoos Are for the Birds," Sophie, Autumn, and Sophie's mom are at the zoo. There's a totem pole there, with an eagle at the top. In her pocket is the crystal necklace she found in chapter 15. Sophie thinks (p. 156):
"...it was a normal thunderbird who got tired of throwing lightning bolts and decided to sit up there and rest, but then got stuck and couldn't leave." 
A crow lands on the totem pole. Sophie thinks it is a Crow God who can see that she is a monster. She stares back at it and says (p. 156):
 "No tricks, Chulyen." I've got enough trouble without a Native American trickster god running amok. 

Debbie's comments:

I don't like the flip and dismissive tone Sophie has about the totem pole and I don't like the tone she has towards what she's imagining as a trickster, either. I can't put my finger on why it is bothering me. I do wonder why she thinks this god is named Chulyen, and, I definitely don't like the generic "Native American" attribute Sophie/Swore is using there.  Looking around a bit, I see "Chulyen" in a "Fantastic Fest" that took place in 2015. It was, I gather, a short film and it seems to fit within this "monster" framework that Swore developed for this story. There are--in fact--Alaskan Dena'ina stories about Chulyen (a raven) but they're not like Swore's Chulyen. 

As Sophie and Autumn move on into the zoo exhibits, Sophie is so absorbed in looking at a woman she thinks is Medusa (the woman has green ribbons woven through her dreadlocks, and long green nails that are more like talons than fingernails) that she almost bumps into an elk. She grab's Autumn's hand to stop her, too, but there's no elk there (p. 156):
...there's only a man in a worn cowboy hat with feathers tucked into the band on both sides.
This man has a dusky tan face, a million wrinkles ("like the inside of a walnut"), wisps of gray hair, braids, and
...a thick beaded string with a clasp hangs around his neck like a tie, and a leather pouch dangles dead center on his chest.
He winks at her when he sees her looking. Chulyen caws overhead and lands in a tree behind the old man who seems to understand what the bird is saying. Chulyen follows Sophie, her mom, and Autumn through the zoo. They get to the Birds of Prey outdoor show and settle down on the grass to watch.

Sophie pulls her crystal out of her pocket and is holding it in her hand. Suddenly, Chulyen swoops in and takes it. He sits on a nearby pole. Sophie goes to the pole and tells him to give it back. She's startled when she hears "He doesn't give things back." It is the old Native American man with the feathered cowboy hat. First, he tosses popcorn to entice Chulyen but that doesn't work. Then, he tells her to look away. "As long as you're watching, he'll hang onto his prize only because you want it." She watches the bird show for awhile. The man tosses more popcorn around. Then, the crow is at her feet to get some of the popcorn. Her crystal falls by her feet. She grabs it, tears try to leak from her eyes.
"That necklace is special to you, eh?" he asks.
She nods and he says his is special, too. His is that leather pouch. She asks if it is magic. He nods and tells her it is his medicine bag. She asks how he knows what to put in it.
"Many things have power, but some things call to you so strong, they make powerful medicine for you."
"They say your name?" How weird would that be if a rock started calling for me? Hey Sophie! Over here! But then, the crystal kind of called to me, didn't it? 
"Not in words." The man taps his heart. "They'll call to you in here. It could be anything. A pinecone. A bead. A carving. A stone. Each person's medicine is different."
"And it heals you?"
"It heals my heart, my spirit."
Sophie's mom calls to her; she rejoins her and Autumn. She looks back to the man and sees he is walking away, with Chulyen on his shoulder. They seem to be talking.
Just before he turns the corner, he casts a shadow on the wall of a building and I see the shadow of an elk.
No. Not an elk, a caribou.
I'd spoken face to face with the Caribou Man. 
She wonders what to tell Autumn about Caribou Man. He's a leader for all animals. When he speaks, they listen.
That the tribes feared and revered him so much, they were careful to treat all their hunts with great respect so he didn't get angry.
She realizes that he's very powerful, but he chose to speak to her. She feels a warm bubble at that thought. As they get to their car Chulyen and some more black birds appear. They tumble about in the air, and then glide away. Something white flutters down. It is part of a white peacock feather. It is, she thinks, a gift of healing medicine from Chulyen. It has power. (In the next chapter, we read that she has attached the peacock feather to the crystal.)

Debbie's comments

So... Caribou man isn't a real person. He's a figure in the book of monsters that Sophie carries around. He, like the princess, appears in this story, to help Sophie. 

The way that Swore depicts this man, works, for a white audience. He's got some wisdom and some teachings that whiteness fawns over. As Caribou man, he has power and if you don't treat him right, well, it won't go well. There... again, is the depiction of wrath. As with the "Great Spirit" at the falls, I think this is more White Man's Indian. 

Swore's book is introducing stereotypes to readers who aren't aware that they're stereotypes. For those who open her book with stereotypical ways of thinking about Native people, her words affirm their "knowledge." That, ultimately, is harmful to what they grow up "knowing" about Native people. 

It is also, of course, harmful to Native readers who know this is all nonsense. If they've picked up the book on their own accord, they can set it down but if a teacher assigns the book, they're in a difficult position. Some will be unsettled by the nonsense. The impact can be unsettling in the moment, but later, too, when they're supposed to be doing other schoolwork. 

Published in 2019, I do not recommend Wendy S. Swore's A Monster Like Me.

Tuesday, February 19, 2019

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

A reader wrote to ask if I've seen Follow Me Down to Nicodemus Town by A. LaFaye. It is a picture book that came out in January of 2019 from Albert Whitman. Here's the description:
When Dede sees a notice offering land to black people in Kansas, her family decides to give up their life of sharecropping to become homesteading pioneers in the Midwest. Inspired by the true story of Nicodemus, Kansas, a town founded in the late 1870s by Exodusters—former slaves leaving the Jim Crow South in search of a new beginning—this fictional story follows Dede and her parents as they set out to stake and secure a claim, finally allowing them to have a home to call their own.
Dede and her parents meet an Osage family, as shown in this illustration.



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

Saturday, February 09, 2019

Highly Recommended: FIGHTER IN VELVET GLOVES: ALASKA CIVIL RIGHTS HERO ELIZABETH PERATROVICH by Annie Boochever with Roy Peratrovich Jr.



"You're an Indian, aren't you?
Roy answered, "Yes, I am."
"Your wife too?"
"Yes."
"Well, I'd like to help you, but other people around here don't want me to rent to Indians."

When most people think of civil rights, their thoughts turn to the 1960s. They may remember photographs of Martin Luther King and others who spoke, marched, or participated in sit-ins. Some people, however, have a different memory of people fighting for civil rights. Their memories are of the 1940s when Native Alaskans fought for their rights.

Encounters like the one at the top of this post are in Fighter in Velvet Gloves: Alaska Civil Rights Hero Elizabeth Peratrovich.

Cover art by Apayo Moore
https://www.apayuq.com/ 


Due out on February 16, 2019 from the University of Alaska Press, it is definitely going to be one that I recommend over and over for its history of the civil rights work in Alaska, its use of Tlingit words throughout, and of course, because it is about a Native woman. Photos throughout are exceptional.

The first sentence in the first chapter is of Peratrovich's birth:
On July 4, 1911, in the Southeast Alaska community of Gánti Yaakw Séedi (Petersburg), Edith Tagcook Paul from Deishú (Haines) gave birth to the baby girl who would grow up to be Elizabeth Jean Peratrovich. 
That choice--to put the English words in parenthesis--is seen throughout the book. Here's the third sentence of the first chapter:
Over thousands of years they developed cultures and a way of life especially suited to their Haa Aanî, or homeland. 

Peratrovich was fluent in both, English and Tlingit. Her Tlingit name was Kaaxgal.aat. In 1912 a group of Native people from Southeast Alaska gathered in Sitka and formed the Alaska Native Brotherhood (ANB) and two years later, the Alaska Native Sisterhood (ANS). Elizabeth's father was a founder of the ANB, which is now recognized as the oldest Indigenous civil rights organization in the world. The organizations worked to improve educational opportunities, employment, social services, health services, and housing.

Societal discrimination in Alaska was as blatant as it was in the U.S. There were signs like "No Natives Allowed" on businesses. There were signs that said "White Trade Only." There were assurances that customers wouldn't have to come in contact with people who weren't white. This photo is in the book:

Historic sign, Front Street, Juneau, circa 1943.
Alaska State Library. Winter and Pond Collection. ASL-PCA-1050.

Some chapters include examples of societal racism. In one, you'll learn about schools where only white children could attend. In another, you'll learn that during World War II, almost 9,000 Alaska Native people were forced to leave their homes because the US Army thought that destroying their villages would make it harder for the Japanese to invade that part of Alaska. You'll learn that Native Alaskan men were in the armed services--but prejudicial ideas about Native women led the army to issue an order prohibiting soldiers from associating with Alaska Native women, even if the woman was part of the soldier's family! The chapter on voting has a page called "The Toilet Paper Defense" that is stunning.

There's other parts of the book that are intimate, personal looks at Elizabeth Peratrovich. She was adopted and did not know her birth mother. But that woman knew Elizabeth and, it seems, wanted to be near her. I won't say more about that, but it is a sad point in the story.

I highly recommend Fighter in Velvet Gloves. Some readers will be uncomfortable to read about the racism directed at Alaska Native people. Accounts like these mess with the idea that this country is exceptional, that it is (or was) "great." These accounts have received very little attention in children's or young adult literature--but they're very important. Change is possible, but only when problems are identified and made visible.

I'll end with some words in Chapter 14, titled "Carefully Chosen Words." It is about her speech on the day the Alaska legislature was debating the anti-discrimination bill that would be signed long before the US Civil Rights Act was passed. That day, she wore velvet gloves.
Elizabeth took a deep breath. She felt she was ready, but would her words have any effect? She looked at Lori and thought about what kind of life her daughter would have with those ugly signs plastered around town. She thought of the birth mother she never knew, and of her dear adoptive mother, and prickled at the racism they surely must have suffered. She thought of her adoptive father, Andrew, and about how kind he was and how powerful his sermons were. Words were the tools that had served her all her life, and she and Roy Sr. had spent hours thinking about just the right ones for this occasion. Now was the time. 



Saturday, December 29, 2018

Not recommended: Pocahontas (a pocket bio)

According it its website, Macmillan's "Pocket Bios" are "pocket-size picture book biographies" that are "full of personality" and that introduce readers to people of the past and present using "simple storytelling and cheerful illustrations."

Given the oversized head, seems they're trying to appeal to consumers who are buying those other series with oversized-headed people on the covers. Ugh!

A quick look at the bios they have planned for this "Pocket Bios" series tells me they think they've hit on something that will line their pockets (yeah, I'm being a bit snarky).

They plan to release Pocahontas in March of 2019. Over on Edelweiss, I found some interior pages. Take a look at how they depicted John Smith's "she saved my life" moment:


Tied to a tree?! Hmm...

Did she, in fact, save his life? That's not clear. Some say his life was never in danger, and that what happened was a ceremony. None of the accounts I've seen say that he was tied to a tree. What is the source for this, I wonder? The name associated with the book, sometimes as author but usually as illustrator, is Al Berenger.

Macmillan: have you no shame? Well--that's not a good question, is it. For publishers--especially the Big 5--bottom line means they'll publish crap like this because it will sell.

Don't waste your money, librarians!

This book is definitely not recommended.