Not Recommended: THE SACRIFICE by Diane Matcheck

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

For what is a man profited, 

if he shall gain the whole world, 

and lose his own soul? 

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

--MATTHEW 16:26

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

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

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

Recommended! BABY RAVEN and BABY EAGLE by Crystal Worl

If there is a basket (or shelf) of board books in your home, classroom, or library, you best get Baby Eagle and Baby Raven.

They're part of the Baby Raven Reads series published in 2016 by Sealaska Heritage Institute. Once you open each book, you'll see they're bilingual. Here's the page for otter, in Baby Raven (I am sharing that page because someone very dear to me likes otters):

There, you see the word otter (in English) and in Lingit (that is what the Tlingit language is called), and beneath the words, you see Worl's clan illustration of an otter. All that is layered on top of an illustration by Nobu Koch. I love these books, and Worl's work! Get these two books but head over to her website and see what else she does!

Not recommended: LUMP LUMP AND THE BLANKET OF DREAMS by Gwen Jackson

Over the last year or so, I've had several emails asking me about Lump Lump and the Blanket of Dreams. Written by Gwen Jackson, the subtitle is "Inspired by Navajo Culture and Folklore." It was published in 2016 by Friesen Press.

When I see "inspired" or "based on" in a book title or in related information about the book, my critical lens kicks in pretty hard. Non-Native people are inspired to create a whole lot of not-good things! Mascots, for example. Those who created them were often "inspired" by some imagined aspect of how Indigenous people fight. In this case, we have a writer who is inspired--by a weaver and by what the writer perceives to be Native story--to create a picture book.

The author of Lump Lump and the Blanket of Dreams is not Native. This is not an #OwnVoices story. Indeed, I think some would say (me, for example) that she's appropriating something for her own purposes. A quick look at the first page of her book shows me this:

Awake in beauty!

Awake in beauty!

Today we will live in beauty!

Those of you who are Diné (or Navajo), or who know something about people of the Navajo Nation, will recognize the "in beauty" phrase as something that is significant to Navajo people. It is part of the Blessingway Ceremony. Lot of not-Navajo people are taken with "in beauty." It resonates, of course, and so people.... use it. Like Jackson did. She uses the phrase elsewhere in the book, too.

In the story, Lump Lump is a little bear who doesn't like the idea of going to sleep for the winter. Blue Bird is a blue bird who is a storyteller who, on hearing Lump Lump's resistance to the idea of hibernation, tells him a story about a blanket of dreams. It is made up of items like "the white light of morning" and "the red light of evening." Lump Lump wants a blanket like that, and so, Blue Bird sets out to make it happen. With the help of others, all the items necessary to make this "blanket of dreams" are assembled and taken to Spider Woman, who makes the blanket for Lump Lump.

Do the Navajo people have a story like that?

Or did Jackson make it up? My guess is the latter, but we don't know. For hundreds of years, non-Native writers have been "inspired" by some story they think is Native, and go on to make their own. When that story is of that author's creation, I think it is inappropriate for the writer to use "inspired by" in the title, subtitle, or anyway in the book, because... it isn't of that nation any longer!

Jackson thanks several Indigenous people in the back of the book. I ask writers to consult with Native people before doing this sort of book, but I grow increasingly wary of how they go about it--especially when the outcome is like Jackson's Lump Lump and the Blanket of Dreams. As you might imagine, Jackson's book is not recommended.

Debbie--have you seen Marie Lu's "The Journey" in A TYRANNY OF PETTICOATS?

A Native reader wrote to ask me about Marie Lu's "The Journey" in A Tyranny of Petticoats" published by Candlewick Press in 2016, and edited by Jessica Spotswood. The reader said:

• There aren't any Alaska Native authors in the anthology - just an outsider writing about one.
• The story is about the Inupiaq protagonist's 1st contact with white people, and that alone is something I'm not really ok with non-Natives writing. On top of that, the protagonist's parents are both killed by white people - her mom is shot on the page and dies on the page, and then white people burn her village. Why is this necessary for an outsider to write?! Who is Marie Lu writing for? Because Natives already know how violent our deaths were at 1st contact at the hands of white people. We don't need to see that on the page in a non-Native's words. This is trauma porn for settlers.
• The protagonist is rescued by missionaries. They're portrayed as the good guys. One of them even says "We are not all like them." Did Marie Lu just use "Not all settlers"!? I get the impression Marie Lu has no idea about the depth of atrocities against Natives committed by missionaries. Most Native authors would never write missionaries as the saviors of a story.
• In the author's note, Marie Lu says Julie of the Wolves was one of her favorite childhood books. That book seems to have inspired her to write this story. Considering how problematic Julie of the Wolves is, which Marie Lu would know if she did a simple google search or actually talked to Native people, that's a big red flag.
• The author's note also says "I loved reading about the Inuit culture." What sources did she read from? Because non-Native sources are always problematic. And did she do any research besides reading? Did she consult with Inupiaq/Inupiat people?
• That leads me to my next question - since the protagonist is Inupiaq, why did Marie Lu say she read about "Inuit culture"? Inupiaq/Inupiat and Inuit aren't the same thing.
• And more from the author's note: "The facts already feel magical." I'm uncomfortable when non-Natives use the word "magic" to describe our cultures. Both the author's note and the story itself come off as exotifying us.

The Native reader also said:

I'm sure an Inupiaq person could find a lot more problems. This anthology prides itself on diverse representation, so this is especially disappointing. The rest of the stories might be good, I don't know, but I'm not going to read the rest because it obviously wasn't put together with Native people in mind.

If I get the book, I'll be back with a review. 

Not Recommended: SUSANNA MOODIE: ROUGHING IT IN THE BUSH, A GRAPHIC NOVEL by Carol Shields and Patrick Crowe

Today, AICL is launching a new feature. I'm calling it Reviewed On Twitter and it will have its own label. Sometimes, I tweet that I got a book. If I have something more to say as I look it over, I send a second tweet, and a third, and so on. I end up with something akin to a review, except that it is in a series of tweets. Too often, I never get a review written and posted. That means that anyone who reads AICL but doesn't follow me on Twitter, doesn't see what I said about the book. I don't know if this new feature is going to work out or not, but, we'll see.

****

Not Recommended

On September 17, 2017, CBC News ran a news item by Angela Sterritt. In 'A punch in the gut': Mother slams B.C. high school exercise connecting Indigenous women to 'squaw', Steritt wrote about a worksheet from a guide for a graphic novel being taught in her daughter's classroom. The graphic novel is Susanna Moodie: Roughing it in the Bush. Below are my tweets, as I read through it. I started on September 21. Published by Second Story Press in 2016, it is not recommended. 

----------

In today's mail; not looking forward to rdg ROUGHING IT IN THE BUSH.

Page 2. Nothing in the text says anything about Thanksgiving. Why is it there?

Doesn't that look like an American Thanksgiving scene? Set in 1810, this is supposedly a story about going to Canada.

In Ch 1, Susanna meets her man, gets married; in ch 2 they set off for Canada. On Aug 30, 1832, they approach "The New World."

In ch 3, her husband, John, is out hunting. He comes home, sees Indians, aims his rifle at them; Susanna says she's ok.

The Indians (Chief Peter Nogan, his wife, their son) are teachng her their language. They name her, Nonocosoqui. It means Little Bird.

Susanna can draw. She draws a bird. The chief's wife says "your squaw is a much clever woman."

Susanna draws more, there's talk of trading. She gives them pieces of her fancy mirror (it mostly shattered on its way to their cabin).

I gotta say: stories that have Indians staring into mirrors, marveling, enable a "primitive" image. Water surfaces reflect image, too!

Oh... they give her a gift... she looks in a mirror shard.... it is a bone choker (some of my Native friends will get a kick out of that).

A few days later a Black man gives her a cow. He tells her he heard she's a writer. He tells her "this is no country for writing." Damn.

That "no country for writing" is another problem. It suggests Native ppls were primitive and didn't write.

The Black man's name is Mollineux. He knows abt writing (Shakespeare, specifically) because his master on VA plantation let him use library.

I should note that Susanna and John are Elitist Good White People. They don't like lower class men, like the ones in ch 4...

Ch 4 is about a "logging bee." Lot of working men come to work for Susanna and John. The morning they are due to arrive, Susanna's...

... maid ran away. Susanna doesn't know how to cook, but have no choice. The workers give her a hard time.

An American neighbor goes over to Susanna's. But, they're squatters! LOL. Susanna dissing on Americans. She even says that they...

... ""borrow" the land on which are farm now stood!" I guess Susanna and John got their land... legally?! Again:

The American squatter woman gives Susanna heck abt not sitting down with the workers. "You invite the Indians" but not "your helps."

Susanna wants to avoid "Speechifying on Yankee democracy" so changes subject to Mollineux. Squatter woman says he used to work for her...

... and he had "good conduct" but she "could never abide him for being black." Susanna says Mollineux is "same flesh and blood" as...

... squatter woman's "helps" and asks if he sat at their table. "Mercy me, my helps would leave if I put such an affront to them."

I should have noted when I started this thread, that the teacher's guide for ROUGHING IT IN THE BUSH is why I ordered this book.

I did a long thread on the guide a couple of days ago.

1. I ordered a copy of ROUGHING IT IN THE BUSH (graphic novel adaptation of the 1852 book) in this news item:

2. Question for @_secondstory -- why did you publish ROUGHING IT IN THE BUSH as a graphic novel? I'm flipping thru 1852 bk and.. 

3. I see "squaw" a lot. Here's one passage: "a very large, fat, ugly squaw" is the first example.

4. In the original, "squaw" appears 39 times. How many times is it in the graphic novel? Course, even once is not ok.

5. Hmmmm... I searched the original for the word "darkie" that is definitely in the graphic novel, but it isn't in the original.

6. The original has the n word but the author pushes back on racist ideas. See?

7. Is that passage in the graphic novel... with "darkie" used instead?

8. Teacher's guide for bk is here: [It was removed for review.] See disclaimer? Why say "not politically correct" instead of racist? 

9. And, the person who wrote "of that time" is clearly living under a rock. Those prejudices and racist language are still here, TODAY. 

10. This guide is clearly written with White students/teachers in mind.

11. Did its author and publisher not realize Native and Black kids are part of today's society? First suggested activity is to imagine... 

12. ... life as a "pioneer." It is f'ed up to ask a Native child to imagine what it was like to be a "pioneer." 

13. The guide asks students for good definition of pioneer. How about "a biased word for someone who invaded Native lands." 

14. Here's another question from the guide. I don't see a question asking students how an Indigenous person felt...

15. The next question asks if relationships between pioneers and indigenous ppl improved. Guessing the answer is supposed to be yes.

16. Next activity: build a model of a pioneer village. That kind of thing centers Whiteness. Teachers: don't do this!

17. The third activity is about "politically incorrect" language:

18. Lot going wrong in this activity. In this true/false statement about words that "everyone" used? "Everyone" means White people. 

19. And here's the activity that brought attention to this messed up book and teacher's guide for it. Guide tries to say "don't use... 

20... certain words today" but then uses them in the activity like they're facts kids must learn. 

Where was I? Oh, yeah, the squatter woman and the not squatter woman trying to out-do each other with their imagined superiority.

Well, damn. When I was looking at the guide the other day, I saw that ch 6 is about a "shivaree" but didn't know what that was. I do now.

By ch 6, Mollineux has married an Irish girl. It is nighttime, men have fiddles, drums, masks. They go to his house: "Come on Darkie!"

One calls "string him up". They pour tar on him, feathers... When I first heard of this book, I asked WHY it was published.

It seems to me that the publisher and writers of the graphic novel & guide had NO IDEA that Native or Black kids would be asked to read it.

The graphic novel, published in 2016, has an Intro by Margaret Atwood. Her recent Emmy probably makes the bk more saleable. But...

But I can't see her name anymore and not remember her involvement in the Joseph Boyden messes.

I'll stop for now with this quick look at ROUGHING IT IN THE BUSH. If it was assigned to my child, I'd raise hell for sure.

-----

When I quit last night, I had finished Ch 6, "Shivaree." I didn't share any pain-inducing images from those pages. I'm still aghast at them.

The bk is marked as being for kids in sixth grade and on up. Those "Shivaree" pages are brutal.

Ch 7 is called "John Managhan." John goes to Susanna's house, asking for work. He's hurt but Susanna's new servant won't help him.

He starts to work for Susanna. Kind of heroic. Even tells Susanna's husband how to deliver their 2nd baby when the midwife can't get there.

That's because he's a Roman Catholic. An inset box tells us that enmities between religions ran high "in those days." Not today, I guess?!

Life is getting harder for Susanna. Milk, bread, and potatoes are sometimes all they have to eat. But wait!

Remember the Indian Chief from the start of the book? He comes by from time to time and gives them fish.

Susanna gives most of the food to her family. Husband notices, tells her she has to eat more because he needs her help in the fields.

Susanna cries. She is "reduced to field-labour" but understands why. She steps up but they don't have skills, really, to do this work.

Life gets harder and harder. There's a page where she's grimacing as she skins squirrels for their meals. She's also upset because...

... her sister, who had visited (briefly) in ch 5, has written a book that has "made this wretched wilderness into a fool's paradise."

Susanna's husband tells her to write, again, as she had before they left England. Write the truth of their lives, he says.

Susanna doesn't want to do that. Everyone in England would think of her, living in a log hut, consorting with vulgar ppl & Americans.

But, after a while, she does (write). War breaks out. John has to leave. Oh... here's Indians again as Indian women show her how to fish.

I've looked thru and thru the book. No mention of what tribal nation Susanna was learning words from, or learning fishing techniques...

The thread this tweet is part of is about the graphic novel, SUSANNA MOODIE: ROUGHING IT IN THE BUSH that was (is?) being taught in Canada.

It is based on a book with that same title, written by Moodie, published in 1852. In the original, Moodie used "Indian" 118 times.

You can see the original, here: I don't plan to do any analysis of the 1852 one compared to the 2015 one.

Mostly, I just wonder why Second Story thought it was a good idea to make this graphic novel adaptation, for young ppl of today.

I don't recall seeing a disclaimer like this one, inside ROUGHING IT IN THE BUSH. See that past tense, "were", in there? (Because text in photo is small, I am inserting it here: "Common prejudices in the nineteenth century resulting from antagonisms between Protestants and Catholics, or racism perpetuated by white Europeans against Blacks and Aboriginals, were reflected in the everyday language people used to describe themselves and each other. Today it is unacceptable to use words such as Indian, squaw, darkie, Negro,Yankee, or Papist.")

There's something like that disclaimer in the teaching guide for the bk, too. That guide got pulled. Will the book get pulled, too?

My guess is, no. It was (is?) being used in classrooms in Canada, which means it was bought in quantities. Just for one class? More?

Debbie--have you seen BLOWBACK '07 by Brian Meehl?

A reader writes to ask if I've seen Blowback '07 by Brian Meehl. I haven't but will look for it. Here's the description:

Clashing teenage twins Arky and Iris have one thing in common: an ancient musical instrument left to them by their mother. When Iris plays the strangely curved woodwind, the trouble begins; Arky's friend, Matt, the school's star quarterback, disappears.

Transported to 1907 and the Carlisle Indian School, Matt is forced to play football for Coach Pop Warner as the Carlisle ''Redmen'' revolutionize Ivy League football. Matt's struggle to ''play his way home'' is complicated when he falls in love with an Indian girl.

Meanwhile, Arky and Iris discover a cache of secrets that might bring Matt back, and lead to the ultimate rescue: their mother, trapped in the past.

Blowback '07 launches a century-spanning trilogy to be continued in Blowback '63 and Blowback '94. Books two and three propel Arky and Iris to the illuminating past, and transform them in ways they never imagined. After all, as their mother once cautioned, ''Every road to the future winds through the past.''

Published in 2016 by Mill City Press, I'm wary of Meehl's book--not because of the publisher, but because of the content. Any stories that delve into the boarding schools Native children were forced to go to must be done with extraordinary care and research, lest they come out like Ann Rinaldi's disastrous My Heart Is On the Ground.

Why, I wonder, did Meehl select Carlisle as the place his character would go?

When I get a copy, I'll be back with a review.

Librarians Noting Problems in Nonfiction Series: First Peoples of North America, by Cassie Lawton

One of the more gratifying kind of emails I get is from librarians who are bringing a critical lens to nonfiction.

Recently I had an email from a librarian in Oklahoma who was looking over Cassie Lawton's First Peoples of North America. That seroes came out in 2016 from Cavendish Square Publishing.

The librarian noted problems that every librarian can keep an eye on as they look over nonfiction books.

One is tense. Are all, or most of the verbs past tense? If so, that's a problem.

Another is words used. This series has "costume" for the clothing the people in the books are wearing. Better words are regalia, or traditional clothing.

A third one this librarian noticed is about the photographs. She wonders if the photos match the particular tribal nation the photograph is supposed to be about.

I haven't seen the series. Given their price, I don't plan to buy them. If they turn up in a local library, I'll review one. I did look them up on the publisher's website and winced at the covers. Those old sepia-colored photos on the covers generate a nostalgic response in so many people that moves them to talk about "plight" and hold us safely in mind as a problem of the past, not present. It is a lot like how people view mascots.

Anyway. If you're a writer, or if you're an editor... no matter what kind of book you're doing: stay away from those sepia covers! Please!

Why is Navajo gr-gr-grandmother in THE KILLER IN ME by Margot Harrison

Margot Harrison's The Killer In Me is amongst the books the Cooperative Children's Book Center (CCBC) listed in 2016, as having significant Native content. Here's the description:

Hasn't he lived long enough? Why not? I could take him like a thief in the night. This is how the Thief thinks. He serves death, the vacuum, the unknown. He's always waiting. Always there. Seventeen-year-old Nina Barrows knows all about the Thief. She's intimately familiar with his hunting methods: how he stalks and kills at random, how he disposes of his victims' bodies in an abandoned mine in the deepest, most desolate part of a desert. Now, for the first time, Nina has the chance to do something about the serial killer that no one else knows exists. With the help of her former best friend, Warren, she tracks the Thief two thousand miles, to his home turf—the deserts of New Mexico. But the man she meets there seems nothing like the brutal sociopath with whom she's had a disturbing connection her whole life. To anyone else, Dylan Shadwell is exactly what he appears to be: a young veteran committed to his girlfriend and her young daughter. As Nina spends more time with him, she begins to doubt the truth she once held as certain: Dylan Shadwell is the Thief. She even starts to wonder . . . what if there is no Thief? From debut author Margot Harrison comes a brilliantly twisted psychological thriller that asks which is more terrifying: the possibility that your nightmares are real . . . or the possibility that they begin and end with you?

The Killer In Me is published by Hyperion, which is part of Hachette Books.

Dylan, it turns out, is Nina's older brother. Their mother, Becca, gave Nina up for adoption when she was a baby. The reason The Killer In Me gets tagged for Native content is because Becca's great-grandmother (Nina's great-great-grandmother) was Navajo.

Here's the thing: There is absolutely nothing about how she is developed that makes this Navajo ancestry matter. Harrison could have made Nina and Dylan's ancestry be any of the many different Native ones in the southwest and it would not have mattered one bit.

That disturbing connection with Dylan is that, through her minds eye, Nina can see what he is doing (and vice versa). As I read, I was worried that Harrison was going to have their Navajo ancestry be the source for the ability of Nina and Dylan to see what the other is doing.

But--thankfully--that didn't happen. We don't know why they can do that.

My big question: why is this great-great-grandmother Navajo? It doesn't matter one bit to the story. So, why is it here? It feels to me that The Killer In Me may be an example of a writer creating an aspect of a story with DIVERSITY in mind.

Like I said, nothing turns on this aspect of Nina's identity. Someone might argue that the Navajo ancestry makes it possible to set the book in the southwest, but, that great-great-grandma could be anybody! In the southwest, there are white people, and Spanish people, and Native people of many nations...

Again: why is this great-great-grandmother Navajo? What did I miss?!

Because I think it is meaningless, I'm giving this a not-recommended label.

Not recommended: SCAR: A REVOLUTIONARY WAR TALE by J. Albert Mann

You know that advice.... or that teaching... where you're supposed to look for the good? Where you're supposed to highlight the good and not focus on the bad?

It sounds like good advice, but it is also an approach that affirms the status quo. Today, I read Scar: A Revolutionary War Tale by J. Albert Mann. It came out in 2016 from Calkins Creek/Highlights. It got pretty good reviews from the major journals. No stars, but still, good reviews. I could imagine myself saying a lot of what those reviews did, because some of what they said is ok.

But.

I bring a different lens to my reviews. What did this author say, about Native people? Is it accurate? Is it biased? In this case, what did Mann say about Native people in Scar? Is it accurate? Is it biased?

Here's the description:

Sixteen-year-old Noah Daniels wants nothing more than to fight in George Washington’s Continental Army, but an accident as a child left him maimed and unable to enlist. He is forced to watch the Revolution from his family’s hard scrabble farm in Upstate New York—until a violent raid on his settlement thrusts him into one of the bloodiest battles of the American Revolution, and ultimately, face to face with the enemy. A riveting coming of age story, this book also includes an author’s note and bibliography.

The battle is the Battle of Minisink. I don't want to do a deep dive into it. I'm focusing on how Mann writes about Native people. Mann gives us two characters. Noah, the white teen, and a Mohawk teen who he finds himself next to. Both are near death. The story is told from Noah's point of view. When he realizes he's right next to a Mohawk teen who is badly injured, too, he decides to help him. He looks at the Mohawk teen and notices a scar on his face. So, he decides to call him Scar. That was, for me, strike one. Would you do that? Look at the physical attributes of someone and call that person that name? That's pretty audacious and thoughtless, too.

Come to think of it, this name reminds me of another character named Scar... You know who I am thinking of? That bad guy in The Lion King. 

In that time they're dying together, Noah cares for Scar. He keeps him alive. That is white saviorism. That's strike two! Both teens will die by the end of the story, but there are 144 pages in this story. A good bit of it is about the battle, but there's also other parts.

Like... the Mohawks! They scalp the white people! Noah is afraid to get scalped. Noah wraps the body of Mr. Little, who got scalped. Mr. Packet got scalped, too. And Dr. Tusten! Sticking with my baseball analogy, I'll call all that scalping "strike three" in this book.

Can I have one more strike? I know it is not fitting my baseball theme, but anyway... early in the book there's a part about what Mohawk men do. They fish and fight. They don't farm or plant wheat. That, we're to understand, is women's work. Mohawk men fish and fight. Is that accurate? Hmmm... Maybe, but I don't want to look that up.

And let's look a bit at Joseph Brant. Veteran warrior. Known for cruelty in battle. And yet... he's also known to take risks to save settlers from being scalped or burned. Burned? As in burned at the stake? Like we see in Westerns? I don't know... that's another one of those things that gets put forth as something-Indians-did. But is it?

Bottom line: I do not recommend J. Albert Mann's Scar: A Revolutionary War Tale published by Calkins Creek (Highlights) in 2016.

Debbie--have you seen REZ RUNAWAY by Melanie Florence?

Yesterday's review of Melanie Florence's Missing Nimama generated a lot of private email and social media from Native people who are uncomfortable with it but didn't want to say anything. I also got two emails asking if I've seen her Rez Runaway. Published in 2016 in Canada, with a 2017 publication year in the US, it is in Lorimer's reluctant reader "Side Streets" series. Here's the synopsis:

Raised on a reserve in northern Ontario, seventeen-year-old Joe Littlechief tries to be like the other guys. But Joe knows he's different -- he's more interested in guys than in any of the girls he knows. One night Joe makes a drunken pass at his best friend Benjy and, by the next morning, everyone on the rez is talking about Joe. His mother, a devout Christian, is horrified, and the kids who are supposed to be his friends make it clear there's no place for him in their circle, or even on the rez. Joe thinks about killing himself, but instead runs away to the city.

Alone and penniless on the streets of Toronto, Joe comes to identify with the Aboriginal idea of having two spirits, or combining both feminine and masculine identities in one person. He also begins to understand more about how his parents have been affected by their own experiences as children in residential schools -- something never discussed on the rez. And he realizes he has to come to terms with his two-spiritedness and find people who accept him for who he is.

I've ordered a copy and will review it when it arrives. There is next to nothing available right now that accurately portrays Native LGBTQ teens. Though emily m. danforth's The Miseducation of Cameron Post is quite popular, the Native parts of it were not well done. That really bothers me! Sometime soon, I'll be back with a review of Rez Runaway. 

Not recommended: RUNS WITH COURAGE by Joan M. Wolf

I do not recommend Runs With Courage, published in 2016 by Sleeping Bear Press. Written by Joan M. Wolf, it has several kinds of problems in it.

Wolf created dialog for Lakota characters of 1880 that she thinks reflects how they would talk. I find it awkward. 

In the first pages, for example, characters are using "Great White Father" in an uncritical way. On page 2, Four Winds (the main character) is thinking that white people must be very tall and powerful. After all, 

It was the white's leader, the Great White Father, who had forced us to the Great Sioux Reservation.

She doesn't say that in a frightened way. She is talking with her cousin at the time. She uses the phrase, "Great White Father" in a matter-of-fact way. Because they go on to talk about how brave the whites are--brave like their own warriors--there is a reverent quality to their use of the term. On page 5, a woman uses the phrase, too. At that part of the story, whites have come to their council lodge. The woman is amongst those wondering what is going on. The woman says: 

"Has the Great White Father passed another law?" 

If you study historical documents, you'll see "Great White Father" or the idea it embodies in several places. Thomas Jefferson used the idea that he was a father to Native peoples and our nations. Here it is in 1808 in a letter to "My Children, the Miamis, Poutewatamies, Delawares & Chippaways" 

My Children, this is the last time I shall Speak to you as your Father

And here it is in 1809 in a letter to "My Children Depities of the Cherokees of the Upper & Lower Towns:

I requested my fellow Citizens to permit me to retire, to live with my family, & to chuse another President for themselves, and Father for you.

It is paternalistic. I doubt that, in their daily conversations, Native people anywhere spoke with reverence of "the Great White Father." Why would they? Why would Four Winds speak reverently about the person who is responsible for her peoples removal from their homelands? Later when Four Winds is at the boarding school, other characters use "Great White Father," too, and later still, the one Lakota boy at the school, William, challenges her use of the phrase.   

In her story, Wolf's characters think and speak in English, uses English words in ways that I find grating (p. 8):

We had not collected any for two seasons because we...

In that sentence and elsewhere, Wolf uses "seasons" for years, "moons" for months, and "suns" for days. I know it is meant to insert some sense of authenticity, but it doesn't work. Occasionally, she has her characters using a Lakota word. I find that jarring, too. Instead of "Black Hills", Four Winds thinks and speaks "He Sapa" like this (p. 8):

I felt a pang of sadness to know that Bear did not remember much of He Sapa.

In several places she uses "tiospaye" for family or band, maybe, but it, too, is jarring:

Elders came into the lodge, left, and came back with other members of our tiospaye.

All of that sounds very outsider-y to me. Soon, Four Winds is told she's being sent away to a white man's school for girls. When the wagon arrives to take her away, she looks at the white woman, who is wearing a long black dress (p. 15):

...and a matching headdress that ended in a small piece of ribbon a her chin.

Why did she call that a headdress? That is another instance in which one of Wolf's word choices pulls me out of the story she's trying to tell. Before she gets in the wagon, her mother gives her a "wotawe" -- a pouch to protect her and help her remember to (p. 16)

"... use your lightning helpers for strength and not anger."

After dark, they reach the school where another white woman is. Four Winds notices that she isn't wearing a headdress. Once inside in the dormitory, she sees a cross. This tells me she's at a mission school. The white woman wants her to put on a rough white dress but she doesn't want to. Then, she hears footsteps and voices. Several girls walk into the room. She realizes they are Lakota, like her. One tells her what to do and the story moves on as Four Winds learns how to eat off dishes, get up when bells go off, and eventually how to read. She's given an English name: Sarah. In one of her school books she sees a drawing of a bridge. Someone tells her what it is, and she starts to think of herself as a bridge between her tiospaye and the white people. 

On page 93 she's in a school office and sees a plaque on the wall that reads (p. 93):

KILL THE INDIAN, SAVE THE MAN

Miss Margaret tells her that Colonel Pratt gave it to them. Sarah asks what it means. When Miss Margaret tells her it is about them becoming civilized, Sarah gets angry. She breaks the plaque in half and is beaten by the pastor. 

My thoughts on that? It is a dramatic scene (one of many) that reminds me of Smelcer's Stealing Indians. In his deeply flawed story of boarding schools, he made up things--including signs like that--that aren't factual. As far as I know, there were no plaques like the one Sarah breaks. The idea (kill the Indian and save the man), of course, was a driving force. The phrase and concept are well known. Much is written about it. But a plaque? It might seem a small thing but fictions like that plaque, in my opinion, inadvertently obscure the actual horrors of these schools. They create, in the reader, certain kinds of expectations---and when the real stories are brought forth, they don't measure up to the expectations. Because they don't, they aren't accepted as reality. 

In chapter ten, Four Winds/Sarah, beaten and bruised, runs away from the school. When she gets home, she learns that her family didn't choose to send her. The family needed more rations. If they sent her, they'd get more. Her return means a loss of those rations, again. Though they see her decision to run away as courageous, in the end, she goes back to the school when the pastor shows up. She sees this decision as a sacrifice on her part. 

She returns to the school. Time passes and she decides she wants to be a teacher, for her tiospaye, teaching them to read, write, and speak English. She talks with the pastor, who talks with someone else, and they decide she can do this, as an experiment, to see if the "savages" (the word appears several times in the story) can learn English. In the Epilogue, she's been teaching for several years and wondering about the friends she made at the school. The story ends with her, writing a letter to them.

Again--this feels very outsider-y to me. Earlier I said it reminds me of Smelcer's book. Parts of it remind me, too, of Rinaldi's My Heart Is On The Ground. 

In places, Wolf goes on and on about dancing, and about naming, and about hair in ways that are awkward. All the facts of what the boarding schools were like are in the story, but in ways that yank me out of the story, again and again and again. 

In the end, it was hard to finish reading Wolf's story. It was in the "Debbie--have you seen" series. I'm glad I finally made it to the end, and that I wrote this review. 

I do not recommend Runs With Courage. 

If you're looking for stories set in the boarding schools, you have some great alternatives! I know several, all by Native writers! My Name Is Seepeetza is superior in many ways to Runs With Courage, and so is I Am Not A Number by Jenny Kay Dupuis. 

Dan Gemeinhart's SOME KIND OF COURAGE

Way back in January or February, a reader wrote to ask me about Dan Gemeinhart's Some Kind of Courage. I put it into my "Debbie--have you seen" series and am glad to be able to return to it, today, with this review. 

First, the synopsis: 

Joseph Johnson has lost just about everyone he's ever loved. He lost his pa in an accident. He lost his ma and his little sister to sickness. And now, he's lost his pony--fast, fierce, beautiful Sarah, taken away by a man who had no right to take her.

Joseph can sure enough get her back, though. The odds are stacked against him, but he isn't about to give up. He will face down deadly animals, dangerous men, and the fury of nature itself on his quest to be reunited with the only family he has left.

Because Joseph Johnson may have lost just about everything. But he hasn't lost hope. And he hasn't lost the fire in his belly that says he's getting his Sarah back--no matter what.

Not a word, in that synopsis, about Native people, but if you look at the summary in WorldCat, you see this:

In 1890 Washington the only family Joseph Johnson has left is his half-wild Indian pony, Sarah, so when she is sold by a man who has no right to do so, he sets out to get her back--and he plans to let nothing stop him in his quest.

See? "Half-wild Indian pony." The story begins in 1890 in a place called Old Mission, Washington. As the synopsis and summary tell us, Some Kind of Courage is about a boy who is going to try to get his horse back. 

Here's how we first learn about Joseph's pony (Kindle Locations 302-303):

She’s half Indian pony, so she’s got some spirit, but she ain’t nothing but perfect with me.

Later, we'll read of her being a "half wild Indian pony" (Kindle 2043). Indian ponies appear in Westerns all the time. I've never figured out why they're "ponies" rather than "horses" -- and while I understand they had more endurance than other horses, I'm not sure why--in Some Kind of Courage--an Indian pony would have more spirit or be called "wild." That's a small point, though, so I won't go on about it.

Of greater interest to me is that Joseph has been taught, by his now-deceased mother, not to use or think "Chinaman" about Chinese people. That, he remembers, is wrong (Kindle Locations 210-216):

Chinaman. I heard the word in my mind, then my mama’s voice. I’d said it once, the year before, after we’d passed a group of Chinese on the road to Yakima. 

I’d been confused. Everyone called them Chinamen. I didn’t know there was another word for ’em. 

“It ain’t a curse word, Mama,” I’d argued. 

She’d pursed her lips. “Any word can be an ugly word if you say it ugly. And people say that word ugly, Joseph, nearly every time. It sounds hateful and I don’t like it. They’re people just like us, at the end of the day. In the Lord’s eyes, if not in His people’s.”

His mother, apparently, has awareness of stereotyping and racism. They're people, she tells Joseph. But she doesn't seem to have applied those ideas to Native peoples. In chapter six, Joseph and Ah-nee hear voices. They turn out to be two Indian children (Kindle Locations 527-531):

It was Indians. Two of ’em. A boy, older and taller than me, his bare arms taut with muscles. And a girl, five or six years old, with her arms around him and a terrified look on her face. The boy’s eyes narrowed. He bared his teeth like a wolf and snarled a word low and mean in his native tongue. A shaft of sunlight through the treetops gleamed on the long knife blade held in his hand as he ducked into a crouch and lunged toward me.

Bared his teeth like a wolf? Hmmm...

As we move into chapter seven, we read "the Indian" a bunch of times. When Joseph and the boy scuffle, Joseph thinks that he's in the grip of "an actual, real-life Indian" and he worries that he's going to get scalped. Is it realistic for him to think that way? Sure. Just like it was realistic for him to think "Chinaman" when he saw Chinese people. I wonder why his mother did not pass along any teachings about how to view Native people? Does it seem to you that she couldn't, because it wasn't plausible for her to think that way about Native people, but, that it is plausible she'd think that way about Chinese people? I don't know. That's a research question, for sure!

That Indian boy has a broken ankle. With Joseph and Ah-nee's help, the boy gets back to his family. They are, of course, grateful to Joseph. I like that, as Joseph looks at their camp, he sees kids chasing each other and playing. So often, Native children are absent from stories like this one! That little bit, there, is a big plus!

But, then, we're right back to stereotype land, when three Indian men approach Kindle Locations 603-604):

Their faces were deadly serious as they stood before us, looking like they were carved out of dark stone.

The Indian boy, it turns out, is the son of a chief! His name? "Chief George." We get "chief" and "scalp" and "the Indian" (lots of times) and stoicism... and no tribe--much less--a tribal nation.

People like Gemeinhart's story. It was part of the discussions at Heavy Medal (School Library Journal's blog where people engage in mock-Newbery discussions ahead of the actual announcements of who wins that prestigious award). I think it falls heavily into stereotypical depictions of Native people. Because people like it, it will be bought and read and assigned, too, to children in school.

People may defend it because of the way that Gemeinhart deals with "Chinaman." For me, that defense will signal another time in which Native concerns are set aside in favor of what an author has done to elevate someone else. When will that sort of thing end, I wonder?

In short: I do not recommend Dan Gemeinhart's Some Kind of Courage. Published in 2016 by Scholastic, it'll likely do quite well, which is too bad for everyone who will have stereotypical ideas of Native peoples affirmed by Gemeinhart's writing. And of course, completely unacceptable for Native kids who are asked to read it.