Tips for Teachers: Developing Instructional Materials about American Indians

 Editors Note: This post was created as a one-page document that would fit into a single page. It is also available as a pdf. If you have trouble opening or downloading the pdf, write to us directly (see the "Contact" tab for Debbie's email address). A one-pager was hard to do! We wanted to add resources for each of the ten points. Instead, we'll be adding resources in the comments section. We encourage you to share the link to this post and the pdf with others but do not insert Tips for Teachers in something you are selling! We created this as a free resource. If you see someone selling it, please let us know. 

Tips for Teachers: Developing Instructional Materials about American Indians

Prepared by Debbie Reese (Nambé Owingeh) and Jean Mendoza (White) 

American Indians in Children’s Literature 

As educators develop or adapt lesson plans to teach about Native peoples, we recommend attention to the following:

(1) “American Indian” and “Native American” are broad terms that describe the Native Nations of peoples who have lived on North America for thousands of years. Recently, “Indigenous” has come into use, too (note: always use a capital letter for Indigenous). Many people use the three terms interchangeably but educationally, best practice is to teach about and use the name of a specific Native Nation.

(2) There are over 500 sovereign Native Nations that have treaty or legal agreements with the United States. Like any sovereign nation in the world, they have systems of government with unique ways of selecting leaders, determining who their citizens are (also called tribal members), and exercising jurisdiction over their lands. That political status distinguishes Native peoples from other minority or underrepresented groups in the United States. Native peoples have cultures (this includes unique languages, stories, religions, etc.) specific to who they are, but their most important attribute is sovereignty. Best practice—educationally—is to begin with the sovereignty of Native Nations and then delve into unique cultural attributes (languages, religions, etc.)

(3) There is a tendency to talk, speak, and write about Native peoples in the past tense, as if they no longer exist. You can help change that misconception by using present tense verbs in your lesson plans, and in your verbal instruction when you are teaching about Native peoples. 

(4) Another tendency is to treat Native creation and traditional stories like folklore or as writing prompts, or to use elements within them as the basis for art activities. Those stories are of religious significance to Native peoples and should be respected in the same ways that people respect Bible stories. 

(5) In many school districts, instruction and stories about Native peoples are limited to Columbus Day or November (Native American month) or Thanksgiving. Native peoples are Native all year long and information about them should be included year-round. 

(6) Native peoples of the 500+ sovereign nations have unique languages. A common mistake is to think that “papoose” is the Native word for baby and that “squaw” is the word for woman. In fact, each nation has its own word for baby and woman, and some words—like squaw—are considered derogatory. We also have unique clothing. Some use feathered headdresses; some do not.  

(7) To interrupt common misconceptions, develop instructional materials that focus on a specific nation—ideally—one in the area of the school where you teach. Look for that nation’s website and share it with your students. Teach them to view these websites as primary sources. Instead of starting instruction in the past, start with the present day concerns of that nation.

(8) To gain an understanding of issues that are of importance to Native peoples, read Native news media like Indian Country Today, Indianz, and listen to radio programs like “Native America Calling.”

(9) The National Congress of American Indians has free resources online that can help you become more knowledgeable. An especially helpful one is Tribal Nations and the United States: An Introduction, available here: http://www.ncai.org/about-tribes.

(10) Share what you learn with your fellow teachers! 

__________________________________________________________

Prepared on October 1, 2020. May be shared with others.
© American Indians in Children's Literature. 

Not Recommended: CODE WORD COURAGE by Kirby Larson

Code Word Courage
Written by Kirby Larson
Published in 2018
Publisher: Scholastic Press
Reviewer: Debbie Reese
Status: Not Recommended

****

In 2018, a reader wrote to ask me about Kirby Larson's Code Word Courage. Here's the description:

Billie has lived with her great-aunt ever since her mom passed away and her dad left. Billie's big brother, Leo, is about to leave, too, for the warfront. But first, she gets one more weekend with him at the ranch.

Billie's surprised when Leo brings home a fellow Marine from boot camp, Denny. She has so much to ask Leo -- about losing her best friend and trying to find their father -- but Denny, who is Navajo, or Diné, comes with something special: a gorgeous, but injured, stray dog. As Billie cares for the dog, whom they name Bear, she and Bear grow deeply attached to each other.

Soon enough, it's time for Leo and Denny, a Navajo Code Talker, to ship out. Billie does her part for the war effort, but she worries whether Leo and Denny will make it home, whether she'll find a new friend, and if her father will ever come back. Can Bear help Billie -- and Denny -- find what's most important?

A powerful tale about unsung heroism on the WWII battlefield and the home front.

In May (of 2019), I saw Code Word Courage on the International Literacy Association's "Teachers' Choices 2019 Reading List" of books. Books on it are described as being "exceptional for curriculum use." That means that teachers are being encouraged to use the book to teach children. What do they learn from Larson's book?

Code Word Courage is a story about a White girl named Billie, a dog named Bear, and a Diné (Navajo) man named Denny Begay (and Denny's friend, Jesse, who is also a Code Talker).

The author, Kirby Larson, is White.

What we have in Code Word Courage is a White woman of the present day (Larson), creating dialogue, thoughts, emotions and actions of Native men who were born on the Navajo reservation in about 1926.

That is a difficult task.

In her Author's note, Larson writes:

Though I had tremendous input from people like Dr. Roy Hawthorne, one of the Navajo Code Talkers, and Michael Smith, son of Code Talker Samuel "Jesse" Smith, Sr., it is possible that I have made some mistakes in relating this story. I beg forgiveness in advance.

She says in that note, that it is possible she has made some mistakes and she begs forgiveness if those mistakes are there. Sounds good, but that disclaimer doesn't work for teachers in a classroom who don't know the mistakes are there. And if those mistakes are there, she's asking teachers--and students--to forgive her for making them. She wants them to feel bad for her--not for the people who are misrepresented by her errors.

In her Acknowledgements, Larson writes that she asked Michael Smith to read the parts about Denny. She said that she's

"so grateful for his guidance, corrections, and encouragement. In honor of his kindness, and with his permission, I have named one of the characters in this book after his father." 

See "corrections" in that first sentence? Michael Smith told her some things she had written were in need of correction. We can assume that she made those corrections, but she didn't say something like 'I made every correction he asked for' -- so, we don't know for sure. Instead, she tells us that she named a character after his father. What is the impact of that naming, on him? Is it something he feels good about? Maybe. But maybe not--and if he doesn't like what she did--is his dad's name in the book causing him to be quiet about problems that didn't get corrected?

I know--that's a lot of speculation on my part but I find it unsettling.

In the story Larson tells, we learn that Denny spent his early years with his family and then went to boarding school when he was eight. In chapter 7, we read his thoughts about "customs" his people did "after the Long Walk."

This is the text on page 49 (the first page of chapter 7):

"His mother had awakened him before dawn since he could remember, sometimes throwing him in winter's first snow to toughen him up, sometimes urging him to run east as far and as fast as he could. His grandmother said these customs started after the Long Walk, when so many People perished. Every Diné mother wanted her children strong enough to survive should such an atrocity ever happen again." 

Through Denny, Larson is telling readers that an event that took place in 1864 led the Navajo people to create two "customs" so they would be able to survive "atrocity" if it happened again. The two "customs", she says, are 1) throwing a child in winter's first snow to toughen them up, and 2) running east as far and as fast as they can.

Fact: tribal nations have cultural ways and traditions going back centuries. We have words--in our languages--for things we do. White writers (especially anthropologists) use "custom" for some of these things. Sometimes, Native scholars and writers use that word, too. So, presumably Larson is using "custom" because that is what she read in her sources.

Larson tells us that one of her sources is Code Talker: The First and Only Memoir by One of the Original Navajo Code Talkers of WWII by Chester Nez, with Judith Schiess Avila. In that book, Nez wrote about his childhood. In that book, Nez writes (Kindle location 969):

Grandma told us about her childhood. My eyes drifted close. It had been a long day. In less than a month, school would resume for me, Coolidge, and Dora. I wished that I could stay home and spend the winter with my family. As I drifted to sleep, I pictured snow, deep around the hogan. When I was very young, sometimes my brothers and I stripped naked in the snow, and Father rolled us in a snowbank. This Navajo tradition toughed us children against winter cold. 

I highlighted those last two sentences. Remember, Larson tells us that children were "thrown" into the snow. Nez says they were rolled in a snowbank. He also says it was done to toughen them against winter cold. No mention of anything to do with the Long Walk. Nez talks about directions (east, especially) several times in his book, but none of those instances have anything to do with the Long Walk.

I think the information Larson presented in chapter 7 is incorrect. It will, however, be the sort of thing that students will "learn" as they read this book--especially given that the International Literacy Association is encouraging use of the book in schools.

There are other problems in the book. I did a Twitter thread on May 11, 2019, as I read Larson's book. I'm pasting it below, for your reference. In short, I do not recommend Code Word Courage.

****

Twitter Thread by Debbie Reese

May 11, 2019

Been unable to get to CODE WORD COURAGE by Kirby Larson for too long. It is top of the stack today. 

One of the resources I'll use as I read it is Laura Tohe's CODE TALKER STORIES. Tohe is Diné. (Kirby Larson is not.)

I'm on page 32 of Larson's book. I have many post it notes in the book already but am pausing on page 32 because of the way the Diné (Navajo) character's identity is presented in the book. "Big-Water Clan" and "Red-Cheek-People Clan." It is the hyphens that give me pause.

One reason I'm reading CODE WORD COURAGE today is because it is on the International Literacy Association's "Teachers Choices" book list.

Re Larson's use of hyphens, I don't see them used in Tohe's book or in Jennifer Denetdale's RECLAIMING DINÉ HISTORY, where she writes that she "was born for 'Áshiihí (Salt People).

I wonder why they're in Larson's book? An editor's decision, maybe?

Finished rdg CODE WORD COURAGE by Kirby Larson. Now, adding my notes/thoughts to this thread.

On page 13, we meet Denny Begay, the Diné (Navajo) character. He's been at boot camp with a white guy named Leo. They're on their way to see Leo's aunt and sister.

The book is arranged (mostly) in alternating chapters. Chapter 1 is "Billie" (Leo's sister) and chapter 2 is "Denny" and so on thru the rest of the book.

Leo and Denny are hitchhiking but cars pass them by. Leo is surprised because that hasn't happened to him before. We're reading Denny's thoughts. He's surprised Leo doesn't realize that he (Denny)--an Indian--is the reason people are not picking them up.

He thinks abt being taken to boarding school when when he was 8, where the principal would wash his mouth w soap when he spoke Navajo.

Denny hears a sound that Leo can't hear. "All those years of watching his mother's sheep had trained him to recognize the sound of an injured animal" (p. 14).

CODE WORD COURAGE is one bk in Larson's series of dog stories. The sound Denny hears is a dog.

What we have in these chapters about Denny is Larson imagining his thoughts and feelings. In short: a white woman of the present day is imagining the words, thoughts and feelings of a Diné man of the 1940s.

In her Acknowledgements, Larson writes that Michael Smith, son of Code Talker Samuel Jesse Smith, "read the Denny portions of this book." He gave her "guidance, corrections, and encouragement."

To "honor his kindness, and with his permission," she named a character after his father. That character is with Denny in the chapters where Denny is learning the code and then on a ship and finally, on shore at Iwo Jima.

Jesse and Denny both have corn pollen with them. Jesse uses his and says Diné prayers; Denny does not.

Those parts (use of the corn pollen, words spoken) make me uneasy. Are they accurate? Did Michael Smith say anything about that being in the bk?

My personal and professional preference is that content specific to a Native peoples' spiritual ways NOT be in a bk written by someone who is not of that tribal nation.

Last yr I thought that what Roanhorse had in TRAIL OF LIGHTNING was ok because she had a Diné reader.

And so, I recommended the book. I came to regret that recommendation, as I've written, here. Please follow that link. Many Diné writers feel that Roanhorse appropriated their ways.

And they feel that she mis-used those ways, too. For your convenience, here's a letter they wrote about her and her book: Trail of Lightning is an appropriation of Diné cultural beliefs.

I wonder how they'd feel about what Larson has done? She says Michael Smith guided her. Roanhorse had a Navajo reader, too. It didn't matter. It is an example of disagreements within a specific group.

My position is to protect religious ways from being exploited.

I think Larson is on slippery ground with those parts of her book. Jesse's praying (with corn pollen) could have been included without any of those details.

As noted in tweet 8, Denny finds a dog. In its eyes, Denny sees the "familiar pain of rejection." He thinks they have rejection in common and "In eighteen years, the first time he'd felt accepted was at boot camp" (p. 15) where everyone was treated like crap.

That "eighteen years" is a problem for me. He lived at home until he was eight, remember? So... did he feel rejection when living at home as a child? (Answer is, no.) That "eighteen years" is something an editor should have caught.

Something passes between the dog and Denny as they look at each other. I'm noting that moment because later in the story when Denny is at Iwo Jima, the dog seems to appear to him.

I haven't read Larson's other dog bks. Is that a theme in them (a special relationship between a person and a dog, and then the dog appearing in a spiritual way, later)?

Once they get to Leo's house and are eating dinner, Denny tells Billie that his dad's favorite author was Jules Verne. That's possible but it stuck out to me, especially when later, Denny thinks about a John Wayne movie. To many Native ppl, John Wayne gets a thumbs down.

Denny says that "Uncle Sam put all us Navajos in the Marines" (p. 32). I don't think that is accurate. Thousands of Navajos enlisted. I doubt every one of them was put in the Marines.

How would Denny have that information? He just got out of boot camp.

On page 49, Denny is remembering his mother waking him before dawn, sometimes throwing him in the snow "to toughen him up" and sometimes telling him to run east as fast and as far as he could. His grandmother said they started doing these "customs" after the Long Walk.

Getting up and facing east every morning, and running is something he still does. It is habit.

That feels to me like a consistency error. He probably did that before boarding school but once there, could he have done that running east? Doubtful.

And I'd like to know Larson's source for that "custom." Why run east, fast? To get away from the soldiers who were forcing the Navajos on that Long Walk? Something feels off about "east" and these "customs" after the Long Walk.

On p. 68 Denny reaches into the buckskin bag he wears around his neck (on p. 33 when Billie saw it, he could tell she wondered what was inside; what he kept in it was personal/private but that he could tell her a little--that it has "corn pollen and tokens") and gives her a turquoise stone as a way of thanking her for being so nice to him while he was visiting them.

Billie wonders if it is magic and can grant wishes.

I wonder how kids are interpreting that? There's no check on that idea on the page (or elsewhere).

On p 103, Denny is on duty, in a room where there will be a "little test" of the code, which is in development.

The way he and the other 18 Diné men reply to the Lieutenant reminds him of boarding school where people "could see only skin color."

That's a bit slippery, too. The boarding schools weren't about the color of Native people's skin. They were about their status as tribal members/citizens of sovereign nations. The schools were a govt assimilation program to undermine Native nationhood status.

Denny remembers getting to the school and the matron examining his long hair for lice three times. She didn't find any but cut his hair anyway.

I don't think that's accurate. Hair was cut, no matter what. The way Larson writes that part suggests that if a person had long hair and no lice, they could keep their hair long. That did not happen. Hair was cut, period.

There's a Mexican American family in Larson's bk, too. The father works for Billie's aunt, managing her ranch. The boy, Tito, is in Billie's class at school. They become friends. The bully in the story picks on Tito a lot.

The bully picks on Billie, too, but the taunts at Tito are because of his identity. At Valentines Day the class makes heart cards to send to the hospital at Camp Pendleton. Tito writes a message in Spanish.

The bully tells their teacher that the cards are "going to Americans" and "should be in American." The teacher tells him "you mean English" and then realizes why the bully is asking the question.

It is good that she's not racist like the bully, but her pushback on him is not ok. She talks abt a newsreel that had "white faces, brown faces, black faces. Even the faces of men of Japanese heritage." (p. 162).

She pats her heart and says "It reminded me that, here in America, we may all come from different places" (p. 162).

No. That sounds like the "we are all immigrants" thinking that, in essence, erases Indigenous people.

Several times, Billie refers to things that Tito's family makes, like tamales. The references to food are superficial decorative in nature. And the references to "home made tortillas" are odd. The story is set in 1944. Were there factory-made tortillas then?

Some of the things I'm pointing out might seem picky, but if you're of the people whose ways are being used by Larson in ways that don't jibe with you and what you know, they are not small problems.

On page 168 is a chapter for the dog. Oh! I should have said earlier. His name is Bear. In this chapter, Larson imagines Bear's thinking. It is nighttime and he's uneasy. He feels like he is being called. He paces. "Soon, he must answer that call."

Immediately following that line is a Denny chapter, dated Feb 19, 1945. He's heading to Iwo Jima. Skipping past some Billie chapters, there's another Denny chapter, dated Feb 19 to Feb 22. That's when he imagines Bear is with him.

And Bear, as Larson told us in the Bear chapter, feels that he is being called. Way back in the early part of this thread, I noted that when Bear and Denny first made eye-contact, Larson wrote that some thing passed between them.

I think we're supposed to feel the love of a dog/human relationship. Maybe that's what this whole WWII Dogs series is about, but given Billie's wonderings abt magic (the turquoise stone), how are kid-readers making sense of all this?

CODE WORD COURAGE ends somewhat abruptly. There's some chapters near the end abt Tito getting hurt and rescued, with Bear playing a role in that. But then it leaps ahead about 30 years. Denny is living in a hogan on the reservation. Billie (now a woman in her 40s) visits him.

They sit to have coffee; she pulls a book from her bag: NAVAJO CODE TALKERS. He hadn't talked with the author but some of his friends had. Billie asks if this is his story, too. He says yes.

She says "When you were little, they tried to prevent you from speaking Navajo, and then the language ends up winning the war for us." He says he wouldn't say that. She wants to know what he would say...

Denny pats his pouch. The last words on page 233 are:

"The Diné custom was to tell stories during the winter, when snow blanketed the ground. But Denny decided today he could make an exception. For Billie."

Indigenous people tell stories at certain times of the year. But I think that is certain kinds of stories, not all stories.

In this ending (created by a White woman), a Diné man is going to break his peoples custom to tell a White woman a story that we're supposed to believe should not be told till winter?

I really don't like White people creating stories where their Indigenous characters break traditional teachings.

Conclusion, now that I'm finished reading and thinking about Kirby Larson's CODE WORD COURAGE? When I pull these thoughts into a review on American Indians in Children's Literature, it will have a NOT RECOMMENDED tag.

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

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.

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:

• Navajo Long Walk, map
• Po'pay, photo
• Walt Whitman's racist writings
• Identity, a caution about DNA tests

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.

Not Recommended: IF YOU LIVED IN COLONIAL TIMES by Ann McGovern

Yesterday (March 2, 2019) I read a post at Social Justice Books about If You Lived in Colonial Times by Ann McGovern. Social Justice Books is a project at Teaching for Change that I am part of. Here's an except from their post, Whitewashed Colonial History Children's Book Still in Print.

On the last day of Black History Month, children at a predominantly African American elementary school in D.C. were each given a book to keep. 

The title given to the daughter of one of our Teaching for Change staff was If You Lived in Colonial Times (Scholastic, 1992). While this outrageous book all but erases African Americans and demonizes Native Americans, it ironically came along with an “I am Black History” bookmark.

Their review included the book cover. I shared their review on Twitter, but used my own image of the cover. For some books, I'll place a red X on the cover. It is eye-catching and communicates that the book has significant problems.

In their review, they shared some pages from the book. Here's the last page, about who wanted to live in New England. See the last paragraph?

I did a bit of research as I shared their review. They note it first came out in 1964. I found the cover of that first printing:

From what I'm able to see online, the words in the 1964 edition (with pictures by Brinton Turkle) are the same as those found in the 1992 edition, when the illustrations were re-done by June Otani.

What, I wonder, was the conversation that took place in Scholastic offices, in 1990 or 1991 when they discussed updating the illustrations. Obviously they decided they needed to update those illustrations--but what about the words? Did they think those were ok?

Social Justice Books shared part of page 65, about mail delivery:

Sometimes the letter was never delivered. The man you hired might be killed by some Indians.

Regular mail service began in 1672, the text reads, when "post riders" were hired:

The post rider rode with the mail through forests, along narrow Indian trails, and across streams. He kept his gun loaded. There might be a hungry bear or wolf nearby. Or an unfriendly Indian.

In this moment in the US, with so many news stories of Native and People of Color being shot and killed, I find that passage chilling. And it is missing so much. Why, for example, might a Native person be "unfriendly"? Might it be because people had invaded his land and killed his family?

Why, Scholastic, do you keep this book in print?

Part of the work I do with Teaching for Change is its #StepUpScholastic campaign. Many of you reading this post have fond memories of your school days, when your teacher would hand out a flier of books you could get at a reduced rate. Studies have shown that, today, the selection of books offered is lacking in diversity. We created a webpage through which you can write to Scholastic to ask them to make the selections in the book fliers more diverse, but you can use it to write to Scholastic about any book that you see and have concerns about. If You Lived in Colonial Times is definitely one of those books that is generating concern.

Again: why, Scholastic, do you keep this book in print?

Your brand--your profile--is that your books are educational. With this book, you are not educating children. You are, in fact, hurting any child who reads this book.

Once I hit publish on this post, I'm going over to the Teaching for Change page to submit a comment. I hope you (teachers, parents, librarians) do so, too.

Dear Charlesbridge: It's not too late! Please do not release BEYOND THE GREEN

Editors note: On Tuesday, July 24, 2018, Charlesbridge tweeted their decision to cancel publication of this book. Thank you to all who shared this Open Letter. Speaking up makes a difference to the well-being of Native and non-Native children. 

Their tweets say:

After careful consideration, Charlesbridge has decided to cancel publication of the middle-grade novel BEYOND THE GREEN. We are grateful to those who have given us the chance to learn, grow, and apply these lessons to the future. We apologize to everyone affected by this situation. 

Below is the Open Letter I wrote on Saturday, July 18. 

__________

Saturday, July 18, 2018

Dear Charlesbridge,

It's not too late for you to make a decision about releasing Sharlee Glenn's Beyond the Green. From what I see, it is scheduled to come out on October 2, 2018.

This is an Open Letter, which means that I hope others will read it and think hard before publishing stories about fostering or adoption of Native children. Let me explain why I think you need to take this action.

In Beyond the Green, Sharlee Glenn is telling a story about her own life. When she was a child, her family took in a Ute baby. In her author's note, Glenn tells readers that the baby (Gina) was five months old. She doesn't give us details about how social services selected Glenn's family as a placement for Gina. And she doesn't tell us how Gina left their home to rejoin her Ute mother.

What she does tell readers is that "Before 1978, children like Dori [Dori is the fictional Ute child in Beyond the Green] who were removed from their homes because of neglect or abuse..."

Here's why that sentence is a problem. Some children are removed from their homes because of neglect or abuse. In every demographic in the US, there are parents who are neglectful or abusive of their children. For their safety, those children are appropriately removed from their parents homes.

But!

Prior to 1978, Native children were being taken from their homes at astonishing rates. Were Native parents worse than others? Of course not. A four year investigation into these removals led Congress to pass the Indian Child Welfare Act.

In her author's note, Glenn tells readers a little bit about the law. I imagine that she thinks her note is helpful...

But!

Those readers will have read 230 pages of a White child's pain. Who causes that pain? ICWA and the Ute mother and grandmother.

The scant information in that author's note is not just thin--it is also incorrect. The most helpful action I can take right now is to ask people to read about the law from people who know what it says.

To start, take a look at the website of the National Indian Child Welfare Association. There, you will read that ICWA's intent was to protect the best interests of Native children, and to promote the stability and security of Indian tribes and families.

You can also read the section on ICWA in Matthew Fletcher's Federal Indian Law (2016). Fletcher is a lawyer, and a law professor at Michigan State University. Because his book is written in a way that I think is accessible to people who aren't trained as lawyers, I highly recommend it. Here's an extensive passage from the section about ICWA:

Congress enacted the Indian Child Welfare Act (ICWA) in 1978, after more than four years of hearings, deliberation, and debate, in order to alleviate a terrible crisis of national proportions—the “wholesale separation of Indian children from their families….” Hundreds of pages of legislative testimony taken from Indian Country over the course of four years confirmed for Congress that many state and county social service agencies and workers, with the approval and backing of many state courts and some federal Bureau of Indian Affairs officials, had engaged in the systematic, automatic, and across-the-board removal of Indian children from Indian families and into non-Indian families and communities. State governmental actors following this pattern and practice removed between between 25 and 35 percent of all Indian children nationwide from their families, placing about 90 percent of those removed children in non-Indian homes. 

In a 1973 federal case involving children arising out of the Hannahville Indian Community, Wisconsin Potawatomies v. Houston, a tribal expert witness, Dr. James Clifton, “testified that the assumption of jurisdiction in forced adoption by white courts is a matter of great bitterness among the Indian community.” Michigan Indians grow up with oral traditions and stories about the day that a state or church authority figure would show up at the family’s house to take away Indian children. In 1974, a representative of the Native American Child Protection Council, based in Detroit and serving urban Indians, alleged before Congress that state officials had engaged in the “kidnapping” of urban Indian children. By the 1970s, one out of 8 Indian children in Michigan were adopted out of their families and communities, a rate 370 percent higher than with non-Indians.

A critical aspect to the legislative history of ICWA is the “wholesale” and automatic character of Indian child removal by state actors nationally. As the Executive Director of the Association on American Indian Affairs, William Byler, testified, the “[r]emoval of Indian children is so often the most casual kind of operation….” During the 1974 hearings, witness after witness would testify to the automatic removal of Indian children, often without due process. Byler testified that at the Rosebud Sioux Reservation, state social workers believed that the reservation was, by definition, an unacceptable environment for children and would remove Indian children without providing services or even the barest investigation whatsoever. State actors made decisions to remove Indian children with “few standards and no systematic review of judgments” by impartial tribunals. A member of the Sisseton-Wahpeton Sioux Tribe in South Dakota testified that state actors had taken Indian children without even providing notice to Indian families, with state courts then placing the burden on the Indian parent to prove suitability to retain custody. The President of the National Congress of American Indians testified that a state caseworker came to an Indian woman’s house without warning or notice and took custody of an Indian child by force. Senator Abourezk, chairman of the Subcommittee on Indian Affairs, stated after hearing much of this testimony: 

"[W]elfare workers and social workers who are handling child welfare caseloads use any means available, whether legal or illegal, coercive or cajoling or whatever, to get the children away from mothers they think are not fit. In many cases they were lied to, they given documents to sign and they were deceived about the contents of the documents."

More insidiously, state officials often arrived to take Indian children away from their families without any paperwork whatsoever. And then those children often were adopted by non-Indian families far from Indian Country, literally without a scrap of paperwork to conclude the deal. 

To remedy the problem, Congress enacted the Indian Child Welfare Act, a statute designed to guarantee minimum procedural safeguards for Indian tribes and Indian families in non-tribal adjudicative forums and to clarify jurisdictional gray areas between state and tribal courts. 

Because Beyond the Green is a semi-autobiographical story, Glenn and her publisher must think it is ok to put this book--with an alcoholic mother who leaves a five month old in a car while that mother gets "drunk as a skunk"--into the world, but I think it ultimately does more harm than good. It exploits a tremendous harm that was done to Native children and their parents. And, Beyond the Green foregrounds the pain of a White child and her family over the harm that was--and is--done to Native children and their families, at the hands of White people.

I have a lot more to say about this book, and may be back to do that. The parts about alcoholism and the part where Dori asks "what's a squash" are only two parts that I find very troubling. I've ordered Glenn's previous telling of this same story. In 1998, it was published as Circle Dance. 

For now, I am pleading with you, Charlesbridge, don't release Beyond the Green. 

Sincerely,
Debbie Reese
American Indians in Children's Literature

_________

Update: Sunday, July 22, 2018

Several people have asked me to append my Twitter review of Beyond the Green to this letter. After looking into options to do that (I used to use Storify but that's gone), I've settled on "Spooler." To use it, you take the last tweet in your thread, paste its URL into the Spooler window, and wait for the app to run. Then, you've got the tweets and images or gifs, compiled like what I've pasting below (I've inserted returns to separate the tweets because they appeared as long paragraphs, and I'm removing the gif because the animation didn't work). I started this numbered twitter review thread on July 15 (Spooler removed the numbering). The last tweet in that thread was yesterday (Jul 21) after I received the 1998 version of Beyond the Green. Here you go!

Wow. I'm reading an ARC of a story for middle grade readers that has a Ute mother that is an alcoholic. She loses custody of her baby, who she has left in the car while she's in a bar "drunk as a skunk."

The baby is placed with a Mormon family. When she turns 4, the Native mother wants her back. ICWA has been passed, so, the White family has to give her up. But, they make terms. One is that it take place gradually. 

The second term is that the Native mother joins Alcoholics Anonymous so that she stays sober. Honestly--I'm furious that this author and this publisher are doing this book. It is due out later this year. 

It reminds me of Alexie telling people that if there's not a Native alcoholic in the story, then, it isn't authentic. That's such a destructive thing for him to say. It gives cover to writers who do crap like this. 

When the White family takes in this baby, they give her a new name: Dorinda, and call her Dori for short. That's another WTF moment for me. Was that a norm in the 70s? For white people to just up and rename a child they were fostering? 

The author either has no idea that there's a dark history of Native children being given White names at boarding/mission schools, or else knows but doesn't realize that her White characters doing this is not going to be well-received by Native readers who know that history. 

Another unsettling point is when the 4 year old starts to spend time with her Ute mother and grandmother (she doesn't know these two women are her family). She returns to the White family after an outing and asks what a "squash" is. 

Irene's mother, the 4 yr old says, lives with someone named "Did She Wash It Yet" who is a squash. Britt (main char) figures out that 4yr old is trying to say "squaw."

Irene's mother had told the 4 yr old that she is "an old squaw who loves you very much."

Would a Ute woman call herself a squaw? I doubt it. Why did the author of this book create that?!

Oh! Realizing I haven't identified author/book title. The author is Sharlee Glenn; the book is BEYOND THE GREEN. 

I have lot of notes on the book but am pausing for now. @charlesbridge really ought to pull it before it comes out. 

It sounds just like Sharlee Mullins Glenn's CIRCLE DANCE, published in 1998 by Deseret Book Company. 

Before I pause... The author's note says that before 1978, children like Dori (4 yr old) were removed from homes due to neglect or abuse. Some, yes, but ICWA came about because of nefarious removals. This author is misinforming the public. 

That author's note is incomplete. It mentions culture and language but not a word about sovereignty. What is the publisher's rationale for bringing it out? They expect it to sell, but, on what basis?! This is terrible. 

Back on Jul 21 to add to my Jul 15 thread on Glenn's BEYOND THE GREEN. I finished the ARC. Today, I wrote an Open Letter (and tweeted it to the publisher): (…ansinchildrensliterature.blogspot.com/2018/07/dear-c…)

In my mail this afternoon was a copy of CIRCLE DANCE, which is the 1998 version of BEYOND THE GREEN. I'm reading through it now. Some minor changes but pretty much the same story. 

In my Open Letter, I did not note all the problems I've noted in this thread, or the others that I found as I read BEYOND THE GREEN. I may do a follow up blog post, later. 

One thing I noted that is different: In the 1998 CIRCLE DANCE, the Ute mother is named Irene Uncasam. In the 2018 BEYOND THE GREEN, her name is Irene Uncarow. 

In CIRCLE DANCE on p. 64, the Ute child, Dori, meets her birth mother (Irene) but doesn't know that's her real mother. She's introduced to her as "Miss Uncasam." Dori says "Your hair is pretty, Uncle Sam."

Of course, the Mormon family corrects what Dori said. But that stands out to me because on p. 98 of BEYOND THE GREEN, Dori talks about a "squash" Irene lives with, that is named "Did She Wash It Yet". 

Glenn uses a 4 year old Ute child's spoken words to mock the Ute names that she (Glenn) gave to the Ute child's mother and grandmother. That is... messed up. 

The Mormon family corrected the 4 yr old when she said "Uncle Sam" and that happens again. Britta (main char) tells the child not to use the word squaw. I skimmed reviews on Goodreads & NetGalley. Frightening that they don't note these problems! 

In BEYOND THE GREEN, after Dori has spent a lot of time with Irene and is back with the Mormon family, Dori takes the Mormon mother's face in her hands and says "Mama, you're a white person." In CIRCLE DANCE, it is "Mama, you're a honky."

Another change from CIRCLE DANCE to BEYOND THE GREEN is name of an elderly Ute man who Britta (main char) thinks is a drunk. In CD his name is Red Ant Colorow. In BtG his name is Red Hawk Samawop. 

Some of these changes will strike some people as indicative of growth on author's part, from 1998 to 2018, but the things that are in BtG are so bad that the changes strike me as similar to what Drake did in THE CONTINENT: superficial.

Indigenous #KidLitWomen

My contribution to the month-long #KidLitWomen campaign is to lift Indigenous women who have written books for children and teens.

If we were sitting in a classroom or a lecture hall, I'd ask you to name a picture book about a Native woman or girl. Chances are most of you would name a book by Paul Goble or Scott O'Dell. I drew a line through their names to tell you... NO! Not books by those guys! Inside, I'd be cringing to hear you give me those answers. And I'd explain that books by those men have many many many many (how many times shall I write that word?!) problems.

My solution-oriented challenge for you, for the #KidLitWomen campaign is this: Next time you're at the bookstore, reach for books written by Indigenous women. And ask for them at the library! And if your children bring that Goble or that O'Dell book home, arrange a meeting with the teacher to talk about books by Indigenous Women.

Here's my list. Take it with you to the book store, to the library... to your next book club meeting!

Board Books

• Wild Berries by Julie Flett (Cree-Métis), Simply Read Books, 2013.
• Boozhoo: Come Play With Us by Deanna Himango (Ojibwe), Fond du Lac Band of Lake Superior, Chippewa, 2002.
• My Heart Fills With Happiness by Monique Gray Smith (Cree, Lakota and Scottish), Orca, 2016.

Picture Books

• Shi-shi-etko by Nicola I. Campbell (Nle7kepmx, Nsilx and Métis), Groundwood Books, 2005.
• The Good Luck Cat by Joy Harjo (Mvskoke), Harcourt Brace, 2000.
• Sweetest Kulu by Celina Kalluk (Inuit), Inhabit Media, Incorporated, 2014.
• Powwow Summer: A Family Celebrates the Circle of Life by Marcie Rendon (White Earth Anishinaabe), Minnesota Historical Society, 2013.
• Girls Dance, Boys Fiddle by Carole Lindstrom (Turtle Mountain Band of Chippewa Indians), Pemmican, 2013.
• Hungry Johnny by Cheryl Minnema (Mille Lacs Band of Ojibwe), Minnesota Historical Society Press, 2014.
• The Water Walker by Joanne Robertson (Ojibwe), Orca, 2017.
• Jingle Dancer by Cynthia Leitich Smith (Muscogee Creek), Morrow, 2000.

Middle Grades

• I Am Not A Number by Jenny Kay Dupuis (Nipissing), Second Story, 2016.
• The Birchbark House by Louise Erdrich (Turtle Mountain Chippewa), Hyperion, 1999.
• Indian Shoes by Cynthia Leitich Smith (Muscogee (Creek), HarperCollins, 2002.
• Super Indian, Vol. One and Vol. Two, by Arigon Starr (Kickapoo), Wacky Productions, 2012.

High School

• #NotYourPrincess: Voices of Native American Women edited By Lisa Charleyboy and Mary Beth Leatherdale, Annick Press, 2017.
• The Marrow Thieves by Cherie Dimaline (Georgian Bay Métis), Dancing Cat, 2017.
• Murder on the Red River by Marcie Rendon, (White Earth Anishinaabe), Cinco Puntos, 2017.
• The Round House by Louise Erdrich, (Turtle Mountain Chippewa). Harper, 2012.

Coming in 2018 and 2019…

• The Summer of Split Feather Fever by Christine Day (Upper Skagit), HarperCollins.
• Apple In the Middle by Dawn Quigley (Turtle Mountain Band of Chippewa), North Dakota State University Press.
• We Are Grateful: Otsaliheliga by Traci L. Sorell (Cherokee), Charlesbridge.
• Hearts Unbroken by Cynthia Leitich Smith (Muscogee Creek), Candlewick.

Arica L. Coleman's review of Patricia Hruby Powell's LOVING VS. VIRGINIA - Not recommended

Loving Vs. Virginia: A Documentary Novel of the Landmark Civil Rights Case (Advanced Copy) 

By Patricia Hruby Powell; illustrated by Shadra Strickland 

Publisher: Chronicle Books, 2017 

Reviewed by Arica L. Coleman, Ph.D. 

Not Recommended

Opening

Patricia Hruby Powell has written a young adult documentary novel to commemorate the 50th anniversary of this landmark Supreme Court decision in which the nine justices unanimously overturned anti-miscegenation laws (state proscriptions against interracial marriage) declaring such laws unconstitutional. 

I learned of Powell’s book a couple of months prior to its release while conducting a Google search. I reached out to the author in a comment on her blog which featured the book's cover, stating "I cannot wait to read your book. Here is a link to my work on the Lovings. There are additional links to other articles and my book!" Powell responded, stating, "you know I've read your chapter," meaning the chapter on Loving in my book That the Blood Stay Pure and she graciously sent me an advanced copy stating in an email: 

“I look forward to your reading my book as well. And how I addressed the issue of Sydney Jeter.”  

The book received excellent advanced reviews on Goodreads and has since been highly recommended by School Library Journal, Kirkus Reviews, and many other reputable experts of young adult literature. My review, however, will focus on the book’s merit as a historical text. While the conceptualization and execution of the work is noteworthy, its title claim as a documentary novel, I believe, is oversold, given Powell's penchant to ignore historical facts and her inability to place the work within its proper context of interracial marriage in the U.S. The essay is structured using the hackneyed phrase “the good, the bad, and the ugly.” First. . .

The Good

Powell’s documentary novel is an attractive oversized book with the author’s first person poetic prose set in large easy-to-read print. Much of the book has been typeset with the traditional black letters attractively spaced on white pages. Yet, interspersed throughout the book are black and white photos, and black pages with white lettering to emphasize major historical events that add to the beauty of this work. The illustrations of renowned picture book artist Shadra Strickland adds value to this aesthetically pleasing product. 

The book is well organized with a focus on the years 1955-1968. Those familiar with southern culture can easily imagine themselves at a gathering on the Loving’s front porch in rural Central Point, Virginia listening to the victorious plaintiffs take turns recounting the pains and triumphs against racialized state imposed marriage sanctions. The book’s structure is reminiscent of James McBride’s classic work The Color of 

Water.[1]

Screen captures of the narrative structure

In Loving Vs. Virginia, the narrative fluctuates beginning with Mildred, then Richard, then Mildred again. 

This pattern repeats, until the confluence of their narratives joins at the point of their marriage in Washington D.C., where it is spread out over several pages and then resumes the earlier pattern for the remainder of the book. 

Powell’s splendid writing style shines through in this work. The prose is lyrical with a flow and pace that makes the reader glide from one page to the next.  

The Bad

First, the salient problem with Powell’s book is that she characterizes the work as a “documentary novel.” In her blog post, "Documentary Novel vs Historical Fiction," writer Susan Santiago describes three definitions for "documentary novel." She also writes that Loving Vs. Virginia is only the second book she's seen that claims to be a documentary novel. Hence Powell's book would have benefited from an author’s note with a clear definition of the term and how her work fits within that definition. 

Second, assuming that Santiago’s first definition of the term, "True event + real people told in a narrative format" is the one Powell would use, there is very little primary material in Powell’s book which directly relates to the Loving case. While the majority of the photos and quotes are related to the issue of segregation and the Civil Rights Movement, the author does not adequately connect the dots to demonstrate how such events as Brown v. the Board of Education, King’s "I Have a Dream" speech, the signing of the Voting Rights Act or the Freedom Rides directly relate to the issue of miscegenation, Virginia, or the Loving case. In other words, her fictionalized narrative has little to no direct connection to the documentary “evidence” much of which reflects her own interpretations of historical events. 

Third, and this relates to the issue of documentation and its lack of specificity, Powell provides a 1958 map of the United States with the states with anti-miscegenation laws colored in gray; however, the states are not labeled; although she acknowledges that one of the Virginia counties closed its public schools for five years rather than integrate, she does not identity the location as Prince Edward County. 

Fourth, documents that are a must for this book such as The Racial Integrity Act, The Loving Supreme Court decision, the Loving’s District of Columbia Marriage License, and Mildred’s 1963 letter to the ACLU are absent.[2] The latter two documents are most important as they establish the fact that Mildred self-identified as Indian. That they were not included is a gross oversight which I will address in the next section.

The Ugly

Powell’s choice to tell this story in the first person narrative is a cautionary tale. The salient problem with this point of view is that the author’s biases and assumptions are imposed on the speakers. This problem occurs very early in the first chapter which is Mildred’s biographical narrative. There, the reader learns about her family life. Mildred identified an older sibling by noting his etched name in her school desk. “There’s J.J.,” who she assumes is “my much older half-brother James Jeter." She identified three additional half-brothers later in the chapter and explained (p. 24), “What makes them half-brothers is their mama. Daisy. She died. And then Daddy married our mama.”[3]

It is indeed understandable that Powell wanted to get across the fact that the Jeters were a blended family, but she imposed a eurocentric definition of family on southern people of color who do not quantify familial relations. In addition, Powell imposed a family history on the Jeters based on assumption, but an assumption that is inaccurate (p. 18): 

Our Jeter ancestors have lived here

in Central Point

for centuries,

hunting and fishing.

Daddy and Mama

are both part Indian.

We are also descended

from African slaves.

And their owners. 

While the Jeters ancestral roots are Indian, European, and African, there is no evidence that the Jeters were descended from slaves. In fact, Mildred’s father, Theoliver Jeter was descended from a line of white and free women of color (African, Indian or both) that stretch back at least to the 1760s. 

Moreover, Powell’s causal mention of the Jeter’s Indian ancestry on several occasions throughout the text at once acknowledges and erases Mildred’s Indian identity as the aforementioned example demonstrates. Another example is her characterization of Central Point as a tri-racial harmonious community as demonstrated by the statement (p. 28): “If I stop and watch I see . . . Indians, Negroes, Whites—all mixed together. . .Whites and coloreds—we go to different schools . . . churches, drink out of different water fountains. But our section is different.” 

Powell relies on outdated information which constructed Central Point as a colorblind society, a narrative begun by famed African American journalist Simeon Booker in his feature article on the Lovings not long after their Supreme Court win.[4]

Yet, as my work demonstrates, new information highlighting inter and intra-racial tensions in the small rural community of Central Point, tensions which persist to this day, called for a reevaluation of Booker’s earlier conclusions. Again as demonstrated here and here, Central Point was a microcosm of the lived experience of racial politics in Virginia, the South, and indeed the nation. 

What is most unfortunate is that Powell does not provide Mildred adequate voice to explore her self-identity as an Indian woman. Case in point, when Mildred and Richard arrive in the District of Columbia to obtain a marriage license, Powell's depiction of their conversation is as follows. On the left is Mildred; on the right is Richard (p. 117):

This exchange is reminiscent of a dialogue between James McBride and his mother when he discovered that she was not, as he had long suspected, the light skinned black woman she had always claimed to be, but was in fact an Ashkenazi Jew who spoke fluent Yiddish. 

Powell’s scenario does not work and in fact seemed rather bizarre. I mean, what an awkward time to have a conversation or--as it seemed here--a debate about your future wife’s racial identity. Mildred’s race never mattered to Richard before. Why make it an issue now? Her racial self-identity was indeed full of complexity and intrigue. For example, in her 1963 letter to the ACLU Mildred stated, 

“I am writing to you concerning a problem we have . . . My husband is white and I am part negro, part indian.” 

On page 176, instead of providing her readers with the letter [5] which features Mildred’s own words in her own handwriting...  [Update on January 3, 2018: In response to a reader's request, I have inserted the text of the letter. Scroll to the bottom of the page to see it.]

... Powell chose to highlight a quote from King’s Letter from A Birmingham Jail. In doing that, Powell did something that many white writers do when they imagine real people as characters: she erased the very people to whom she claims to give voice. That Powell would use Mildred’s Indian heritage as mere honorable mentions rather than provide space for this woman of color to use her own words to explore a central aspect of her self-identity is most unfortunate.[6] 

The Uglier

Now to discuss Sidney Jeter. As demonstrated in my work on the Lovings (see endnote 6 and here), Mildred was already a mother when she and Richard began dating. Sidney was born in January 1957 which places his time of conception in April 1956. According to Powell’s time line, Richard and Mildred’s courtship began in November 1955. Five months later in an entry dated May 1956 Mildred stated (p. 72): 

“Didn’t see Richard for awhile. I missed him. But he’s coming steady again.” 

By September, Mildred, who was at least five months pregnant, was in a quandary over how to break the news to Richard which she does a month later after they attended a dance together. Keep in mind that by this time a very slim Mildred is at least six months pregnant. They are seated in his car when (p. 94), “I tell him,” she says. "I tell him everything." 

The problem is, the reader does not have a clue what Powell meant by “everything.” Was the pregnancy the result of a rape? Of a one night indiscretion? The reader is left to wonder. 

I find Powell’s handling of Sidney Jeter’s paternity unconscionable.  If she felt that this aspect of the story was too controversial for a teen audience, she should have left it alone. Since she chose to include it, then she should have simply told the truth rather than perform a slight of hand by attempting to adhere to a courtship timeline which has been adequately disproven.  Unfortunately she creates complication where truth and simplicity would have been sufficient. 

Even more unacceptable is Powell’s explanation for Richard’s resuming his relationship with Mildred whom she characterized as an innocent child in need of protection.  Speaking about leaving Mildred in the dark about their impending confrontation with the county Sheriff who was sure to arrest them when he learned of the couple’s marriage, Richard stated (p. 131), “I knew she was pretty innocent. Innocence what got her Sidney—sweet Sydney. Hell, I love her innocence.” Hmmm, riddle me this—What in the hell is Powell talking about? 

And more egregious still was Powell’s use of the N-word when speaking for the Sheriff who was present when the couple arrived for their hearing at the courthouse stating (p. 151): “There’s the white trash and his nigger.” Yet, earlier in the novel when the couple was pulled over by the Sheriff who, after admonishing Richard about speeding, stated (p. 102), “Now you take that little negress home where she belongs.” Why the change in language? The use of the N-word was/is unnecessary and offensive. The argument that the use of the word is necessary for historical accuracy does not hold water in this case as it was not a direct quote, but was deliberately placed there without regard for its detriment particularly to young readers of color.

Equally offensive is Powell's dialogue on Mildred's passing, in which she states (p. 81):
I'm not real dark--'bout the color of a grocery sack--and I have good hair, but I surely couldn't pass." Or the statement by a passerby who, when seeing Mildred and Richard arm-in-arm, says (p. 81) "Nice piece o'colored ass." It is clear that Powell gave no thought to the feelings of young girls of color when she chose to include these statements in her novel.*

The Conclusion of the Matter

I attempted to review this book several times since receiving it in late 2016, but my frustration with the text caused me to set it aside with the hope that when I resumed the effort, I would feel better about the work. I think I wrestled with this book these many months because deep down I wanted to like it. I recognize the tremendous time and effort Powell put into this work for which she is to be commended. Notwithstanding, good writing cannot substitute for accuracy in historical context and facts; and the pitfalls of the first person narrative are too glaring to ignore. Its subtitle as a “documentary novel” places a claimed authoritative validity on the work that requires a standard of execution that is higher than if it were categorized as historical fiction. Being bound by both professional and personal ethics requires that I provide an honest assessment. While I applaud the concept of the work, the lack of focus, historical inaccuracies, and the imposition of the author’s personal biases have derailed what could have been an excellent book.

---

[1] James McBride, The Color of Water: A Black Man’s Tribute to His Wife Mother (Riverhead Trade), 1997.

[2] What appears at the beginning of Powell’s book is the first page of a pamphlet issued by the Virginia State Registrar’s Office about the new Act to Preserve Racial Integrity. Text of the actual law appears on subsequent pages; documents relating directly to issues surrounding the Loving case are easily accessible via The Eugenics Archives in addition to other online sources.

[3] There is a gross imbalance between Mildred’s narrative in chapter one and Richard’s narrative in chapter two. The reader is provided extensive information about the Jeters, but nothing about the Lovings. In fact, it is Mildred, not Richard who introduces the reader to her in-laws. Where is the research on the original Mr. and Mrs. Loving?

[4] Simeon Booker, “The Couple That Rocked Courts,” Ebony Magazine, September 1967.

[5] Mildred's mention of the Attorney General appears to be an afterthought. There is no evidence of correspondence between Mrs. Loving and Bobby Kennedy. 

[6] For more on Mildred Loving’s racial identity see Arica L. Coleman, “ Beyond Black and White: Afro-Indian Identity in the Case of Loving V. Virginia,” in That the Blood Stay Pure: African Americans, Native Americans, and the Predicament of Race and Identity in Virginia (Indiana University Press, 2013), 151-176; and “Mildred Loving: The Extraordinary Life of An Ordinary Woman” in Virginia Women Their Lives and Times, Vol. 2 (University of Georgia Press, 2016), 313-319, for further discussion on the first-person-viewpoint see, https://americanindiansinchildrensliterature.blogspot.com/2015/09/deborah-wiles-debbie-reese-and-choosing.html.      


*This paragraph added on Jan 2, 2017.

Update, January 3, 2017
Here is the text of Jeter's letter:

1151 Neal St.
N.E. Wash. D.C.
June 20, 1968 

Dear sir: 

I am writing to you concerning a problem we have. 

Five yrs. ago my husband and I were married here in the District. We then returned to Va. to live. My husband is White, I am part negro, + part indian. 

At the time we did not know there was a law in Va. against mixed marriages. 

Therefore we were jailed and tried in a little town of Bowling Green. 

We were to leave the state to make our home. 

The problem is we are not allowed to visit our families. The judge said if we enter the state within the next 30 yrs., that we will have to send 1 yr. in jail. 

We know we can't live there, but we would like to go back once and awhile to visit our families + friends. 

We have 3 children and cannot afford an attorney. 

We wrote to The Attorney General, he suggested that we get in touch with you for advice. 

Please help us if you can. Hope to hear from you real soon. 

Yours truly,
Mr. + Mrs. Richard Loving

Update, Jan 10, 2018
See Debbie Reese's review of Powell's book.