Highly Recommended: HEART BERRY BLING by Jenny Kay Dupuis; illustrated by Eva Campbell

HIGHLY RECOMMENDED

Heart Berry Bling

Written by Jenny Kay Dupuis (Member of Nipissing First Nation)

Illustrated by Eva Campbell (Not Native)

Published in 2023

Publisher: Highwater Press

Reviewer: Debbie Reese

Review Status: Highly Recommended

****

A few weeks ago, I saw a photo of a person at a conference posing with a copy of Jenny Kay Dupuis's new picture book, Heart Berry Bling. Today, I read an advance sample copy and am here to give it a Highly Recommended rating! 

Here's the description from the publisher's website:

On a visit to her granny, Maggie is excited to begin her first-ever beading project: a pair of strawberry earrings. However, beading is much harder than she expected! As they work side by side, Granny shares how beading helped her persevere and stay connected to her Anishinaabe culture when she lost her Indian status, forcing her out of her home community—all because she married someone without status, something the men of her community could do freely. 

As she learns about patience and perseverance from her granny’s teachings, Maggie discovers that beading is a journey, and like every journey, it’s easier with a loved one at her side.

In this beautifully illustrated book, children learn about the tradition of Anishinaabe beadwork, strawberry teachings, and gender discrimination in the Indian Act.

I'll start by saying that I love stories where a kid is with a grandparent because like many children, I spent a lot of time with my grandmother. When the book is about a Native family, however, the content of the story adds to my emotional response to what I see on the pages. 

The story opens with Maggie and her dad in the car. When they park, they walk a while to get to her granny's house. As they walk Maggie hears the sounds of a city. That's important! There is a tendency to think that Native people lived long ago (we're still here!) and that they all lived on reserves/reservations or in rural places. Some did and do, but not everyone does. Showing us granny, in the city, is great!

When Maggie and her dad arrive at her grandmother's house, Maggie can smell the fry bread her grandmother made. On the kitchen table are granny's beads. Granny is on the phone, speaking Anishinaabemowin with her sister. All of these are markers--in print and illustration--of a Native home.

As the two sit on the couch to look at photos that have inspired granny's beading designs, Maggie asks her about a person shown in an old photo. Granny tells her:

"That's me. Back when I lived on the reserve."

She goes on to say that she married a man who wasn't First Nations, and under the laws that existed then, 

"I was stripped of my Indian status and had to leave the community."

Right there is when I paused in my reading, thinking about Native people like Maggie's grandmother, whose identity is taken from them. 

There are many ways in which this happens. There's a long history of social workers deeming Native parents "unfit" to care for their children. Their infants and children end up in foster care and white adoptive homes. There's also a long history of non-Native people thinking they had an ancestor who was Native, so they decide to claim that identity as if it is one within their lived experience. Some trot out a story of tragic separation but that story undermines the realities of the lived experiences of people like Maggie's grandmother. 

On the next page, Maggie's grandmother tells us more about the Indian Act. Maggie asks for more information. It is an outstanding page that I hope readers will sit with. 

As the story moves back to beading, I hear -- in Granny's words -- how beading helped her heal some of the pain she experienced due to the Indian Act. On the book cover we see Maggie looking into a mirror. She's wearing the earrings she made with her grandmother. 

So many teachings are embodied in those earrings! So many memories are sewn into them! From the shiny beads to the tears Maggie shed when she accidentally poked her finger with the beading needle, to Granny's life story... this is quite a magnificent story from Jenny Kay Dupuis! 

As I've noted before, we're seeing more extensive author notes than was the case in the past. In Heart Berry Bling we have a two-page note that tells us Granny's story is the story of the author's own grandmother. There's more details on what was lost when her status was taken from her. We also learn about First Nations women who fought that Act and were eventually able to get some changes to it in 1985, but it wasn't until 2011 that changes were made that made it possible for Jenny Kay Dupuis to have her First Nations status. More changes took place in 2017 and 2019. 

We need books from writers like Jenny Kay Dupuis--people whose families hold these brutal realities in their memory as something they lived through--and people across North America have so much learning to do about Native life and history, and about authenticity of storyteller and storytelling. 

Thank you, Jenny, for sharing this story with us. It is a story with difficult parts, but also the joy in this Native child and her Native grandma, being together!  

I AM NOT A NUMBER, by Jenny Kay Dupuis and Kathy Kacer

Jenny Kay Dupuis and Kathy Kacer's I Am Not A Number, illustrated by Gillian Newland and due out from Second Story Press on October 4th of this year (2016), is one of the books I will recommend to teachers and librarians.

Dupuis is a member of the Nipissing First Nation.

In 1928, Dupuis's grandmother, Irene Couchie Dupuis, was taken to a residential school in Canada. "Residential" is the term used in Canada for the schools created by the Canadian government. They are similar to the government boarding schools in the U.S. These were schools designed to "christianize" and "civilize" Native children. Some of them were mission schools where efforts were made to convert the children to whatever denomination ran the school.

I Am Not A Number opens with a frightening moment. An Indian agent is at their door, to take Irene and her brothers to residential school. When Irene's mother tries to keep Irene, the agent says "Give me all three or you'll be fined or sent to jail." Irene's parents, like many Native parents, were coerced into giving up their children.

When Irene arrives at the school and tells the nun (it is a mission school run by the Catholic Church) her name, she's told "We don't use names here. All students are known by numbers. You are 759." Irene thinks to herself that she is not a number, hence, the title for the book.

Her hair, as the cover shows, was cut. That happened to children when they arrived at the schools. It was one in a long string of traumatic moments that Native children experienced at residential or boarding schools.

Another was being punished for using their own language. At one point, Irene gives another girl a piece of bread. The girls speak briefly to each other in their language, Ojibwe. One of the nuns hits Irene with a wooden spoon, telling her "That's the devil's language." The nun drags Irene away for "a lesson." The lesson? Using a bedpan filled with hot coals to burn Irene's hands and arms. It was one kind of abuse that children received, routinely.

Irene's story ends on a different note than many of the residential and boarding school stories. She and her brothers go home for the summer. What she tells her parents about her time at the school moves them to make plans so that Irene and her brothers don't go back. When the agent shows up in the fall, the children hide in their dad's workshop. The agent looks for them, but Irene's dad challenges the agent, saying "Call the police. Have me arrested." In a low, even voice, he tells the agent that he (the agent) will never take his children away again. In the Afterword, Dupuis writes that her grandmother was only at the school for that one year. Her father's resistance worked. She was able to stay home, with her family.

Residential and boarding school stories are hard to read, but they're vitally important. In the back matter, Dupuis and Kacer provide historical information about the residential school system. They reference the report the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (the TRC) released in 2015, too. The work of the TRC is being shared in Canada, and books like I Am Not A Number should be taught in schools in Canada, and the U.S., too. In my experience, schools don't hesitate to share stories of "savage Indians" who "massacre" those "innocent settlers." In fact, the Native peoples who fought those settlers were fighting to protect their own families and homelands. Depicting them as aggressors is a misrepresentation of history. The history of the US and Canada is far more complex than is taught. It is way past time that we did a better job of teaching children the facts.

I'll end with this: I'm thrilled whenever I see books in which the author/publisher have opted not to use italics for the words that aren't English ones. There's no italics when we read miigwetch (thank you) and other Ojibwe words in I Am Not A Number. Kudos to Second Story Press for not using italics.