Thursday, March 25, 2021

Highly Recommended! PEGGY FLANAGAN: OGIMAA KWE, LIEUTENANT GOVERNOR

On March 24th, Jean posted her review of Ella Cara Deloria: Dakota Language Protector. It is one of three terrific books published by the Minnesota Humanities Center. Read her review! Today, I'm sharing my thoughts on another book in that series. 

Highly Recommended!

Peggy Flanagan: Ogimaa Kwe, Lieutenant Governor
Written by Jessica Engelking
Illustrations by Tashia Hart
Published by Minnesota Humanities Center
Reviewed by Debbie Reese
Review Status: Highly Recommended

****


A few months ago, when I saw the cover of this book on social media, I was psyched! Well, let me say that again: 

I was psyched!!!! 

Across Native networks, we've been deeply supportive of Native people who run for state and national offices--especially Native women. I had come to know about Flanagan from friends and colleagues in Minnesota, and I was thrilled when, in 2018, she was elected as the Lieutenant Governor of Minnesota. 

That's Native context. 

Now, consider another context: biographies in children's literature. For a chapter in a book due out this year, Representations and Possibilities: Reading and Teaching with Diverse Nonfiction Children's Books edited by Thomas Crisp, Suzanne M. Knezek, and Roberta Price Gardner, Betsy McEntarffer and I did research on children's biographies of Native people. As you might guess, we found very few on women, very few by Native writers, and very few about Native people who were born after 1900. 

And now, consider state history standards. In their study of the standards, Dr. Sarah Shear and her colleagues found that eighty-seven of the state history standards to not mention Native history after 1900. 

Regular readers of AICL know that we write a lot about the need for books by Native writers that are set in the present day. They can function as a mirror for Native kids where they see a reflection of who they are, and a window for non-Native kids that can tell them that Native people are citizens or members of hundreds of distinct Native Nations and that we are here--in the present day. The state history standards are telling, aren't they? Kids are not taught that we are still here. Books like this biography of Flanagan fill a huge gap in what is available, but it ought to be inserted in those state standards documents, too!

If Betsy and I were writing that chapter on non-fiction today, we'd be including Engleking and Hart's biography of Peggy Flanagan. We might start with a close look at the cover. That, of course, is Peggy Flanagan, but study the illustration. 



On her blouse is a strawberry. Wild strawberries are a traditional Ojibwe food. Behind Flanagan are three flags. Not two, but three. One is the US flag, another is the Minnesota flag, and the third? Well--that's the White Earth Nation's flag:


Most readers may not notice the strawberry or the flag, but Ojibwe families will, for sure! Hart's illustrations and Engleking's words are mirrors of their identity. 

The subtitle for the book includes "Ogimaa Kwe." Those are Ojibwe words. Throughout the book, readers will find additional Ojibwe words--which adds another layer of the books mirror-like qualities for Ojibwe children. 

The biography starts in 1986 when Flanagan was in first grade in St. Louis Park, Minnesota. It is recess time, and Peggy is outside, playing. But she’s thinking about the lessons they were doing before recess. Her teacher had been talking about Christopher Columbus. Peggy knows her people were here before he was, and she knows the impact of Europeans on Native peoples, so, she’s not looking forward to going back into the classroom where she anticipates they’ll keep talking about him. Hart’s illustration for that page shows three kids at desks, taking notes as a teacher writes on the chalkboard. We can see Peggy’s page. She’s not taking notes. Instead, she’s sketched a sad face. Here's that page:


That, too, is a mirror of Native experiences in school. For far too long, Native children have been in classrooms where a teacher puts that myth forward, uncritically. I'm glad that's in there, and I hope it is the nudge teachers need to stop doing that! 

As we move through the book, we learn that Peggy and her mother needed food stamps. That honesty is important. We also learn that Peggy found teachers who believed in her. When we move to Peggy's college years, we learn that she went to St. Cloud State University in 1998 but transferred a year later, to the University of Minnesota. There, we read about how excited she was to walk into a classroom and see someone who looked like her. That person is Professor Brenda Child. An aside: Dr. Child has written excellent books for adults but she also wrote the children's picture book, Bowwow Powwow, which we at AICL highly recommend. The last chapter is about Flanagan being sworn in as Lt. Governor of Minnesota in 2019, and the back matter includes an Ojibwe timeline and a set of questions for discussion. Those are precisely the kinds of things that make it possible for teachers to more readily use the books in the classroom.

The illustrator, Tashia Hart, is also a writer. I’ve got her Gidjie and the Wolves in my to-be-read pile, and I follow her on social media. She’s working on a romance novel! Anybody who reads romance novels knows that genre is flooded with white women writing dreadful books that are marketed as being about Native people. 

As I sit here, re-reading what I've written about Peggy Flanagan: Ogimaa Kwe, Lieutenant Governor, I think you can tell that the book resonates with me, tremendously. It does that in another way. The book came out in 2020. In the "About the Author" note, I see this:
She currently resides in Minnetonka and is isolating in Elklader, Iowa...
Isolating. It is the first book I read that referred to the pandemic and its impact on all of us. Somehow, Engleking's reference to isolation touches on a tender place. As I write this review, we feel that we see hope at the end of a long year. Part of that light is seeing another Native woman assuming a leadership role. Of course, I'm referring to Deb Haaland of Laguna Pueblo, who was sworn in as Secretary of the Interior. She has worn traditional Pueblo clothing for many events, including at her swearing in. 


We need a biography of her, and of Sharice Davids, too. She's Ho-Chunk and was elected to Congress to represent Kansas, in 2019. Haaland was also elected that year, to represent New Mexico. 

I best hit the pause button on this post! I highly recommend Engleking and Hart's biography of Flanagan. As I noted up top, Jean reviewed another book in this three-book series, and we've got one more to do! That'll be Kade Ferris's book about Charles Albert Bender! 


Wednesday, March 24, 2021

Recommended: Ella Cara Deloria, Dakota Language Protector

 


Ella Cara Deloria: Dakota Language Protector
Written by Diane Wilson (Dakota)
Illustrations by Tashia Hart (Red Lake Anishinaabe)
Published by Minnesota Humanities Center in partnership 
with the Minnesota Indian Affairs Council
Reviewed by Jean Mendoza
Review Status: Highly Recommended


AICL readers, and especially middle-grade teachers! Don't miss the book launch for a new series that I wish had been available for my kids! 

You can register now to attend the online event Thursday, March 25, 2021, from 6:30 -8:00 PM (Central), to celebrate the publication of three biographies for students in 3rd-5th grade (and beyond). 

They are part of the Minnesota Humanities Center's new Minnesota Native American Lives series (created in partnership with the Minnesota Indian Affairs Council. The series will feature Ojibwe and Dakota people whose contributions deserve to be better known. Though the subjects of the bios all lived, or live, in what is currently called the state of Minnesota, they are figures whose impact extends well beyond the state borders. Represented so far are MN lieutenant governor Peggy Flanagan (Ojibwe), Ojibwe baseball star Charles Albert Bender, and Ella Cara Deloria, a Dakota anthropologist and language preservationist.

Heid E. Erdrich (Turtle Mountain Chippewa) and Gwen Nell Westerman (Sisseton Wahpeton Oyate) are the series editors. Each of the books is written by a tribally-affiliated Native author, and illustrated by Red Lake Anishinaabe artist Tashia Hart. We'll be reviewing each of the books on AICL, starting now with Ella Cara Deloria: Dakota Language Protector.

Author Diane Wilson (Dakota) follows Ella Deloria from her childhood on the Standing Rock reservation to the creation of a fellowship in her name at Columbia University in 2010, nearly 4 decades after her death in 1971. Wilson emphasizes Deloria's key role in preserving traditional Dakota stories and the Dakota language, and focuses on the life experiences -- including racism and poverty -- that influenced her. 

One fundamental influence was the way Ella's grandparents and parents interpreted the situation that Native people found themselves in during the time Ella was a child. She was born in 1889, when Native peoples were often, essentially, prisoners on their own drastically reduced homelands. They were still targeted for assimilation or outright destruction by the settler-colonizer government that had long sought full control of the resources on the continent. Ella's family saw advantages to being bilingual and bicultural -- knowing both their Dakota traditional ways, and those of the English-speaking Christian settler-colonizer culture. Ella's father was ordained as an Episcopal priest. Her younger brother, Vine, also became a priest (and as Wilson points out, was paid considerably less than his white counterparts). The late Dakota writer and intellectual Vine Deloria Jr. was Ella's nephew. 

Wilson shows how, even in the context of a rather remarkable family, Ella's intelligence, talent, and energy stood out. Ultimately, she used her education to protect her home language and promote greater general understanding of Native peoples and cultures. Along the way, she worked with well-known anthropologists such as Franz Boas, Ruth Benedict, and Margaret Mead. Mead became a friend. Boas was a valued mentor, though if we read between the lines of this biography, it seems that he also may have exploited her abilities and commitment. For some of the time she worked with him, she was so poorly paid that she and her sister had to live in their car. 

I especially enjoy the way Wilson begins each chapter with a quote from Ella Deloria's writing. This is ensures that young readers get to "hear" her voice. 

Teachers are likely to appreciate the "Extend Your Learning" section in the back of this book and the others in the series. The section includes "Ideas for Writing and Discussion," "Ideas for Visual Projects," "Ideas for Further Learning," and a timeline that starts in 900 (Common Era) and ends with Peggy Flanagan's swearing-in as lieutenant governor in 2019. 

As a mother, grandmother, and auntie of Native kids, it's hard for me to put into words how moved I am by the existence of this series. Overall, in terms of which Native people are seen as biography material, it doesn't seem that much has changed since my children were actually children. At the time, it seemed that most biographies of Native people were of military leaders (Sitting Bull, Geronimo), or of Sacagawea, or Pocahontas. My firstborn (now in his late 30s) is named in part for a Mvskoke ancestor (born around 1835) who was, himself, named for the visionary Shawnee leader Tecumseh.  So naturally, when he was young, I was pleased to find a biography of Tecumseh for his reading level. I grabbed it off the shelf to read aloud to him one day when he was ill. At the end, the author lamented the death of Tecumseh and the end of his dream of Native unity. We lamented it, too. But then the writer closed with the words, "... And the Indian way of life was gone forever." 

Grrr!!!

Lessons learned or reinforced: 1) Mom, ALWAYS read a book through before you share it. 2) Fortunately, if you say, "Well, that's messed up and we know better", your children will probably be open to critiquing anti-Native assumptions and historical inaccuracy with you. And critique it we did.

But we shouldn't have had to. Parents and teachers of Native kids should be able to spontaneously share a book about Native people with kids, without having That Conversation. If the Minnesota Native American Lives series stays true to its mission (and it seems sure to), it will allow us to have that confidence and comfort, with well-researched true life stories, written from Indigenous perspectives. 

So, check out the book launch if you are able. And ask your library to purchase the Minnesota Native American Lives series, and read it yourself! Children, Native and non-Native, need those books.






Saturday, March 20, 2021

GONE WITH THE WIND is no longer in DiCamillo's BECAUSE OF WINN-DIXIE

On this early morning, I'm reading a post on social media that Kate DiCamillo replaced references to Gone with the Wind in Because of Winn-Dixie. 

Looking around a bit, I found an Opinion by Celia Storey on November 30, 2020 in the Northwest Arkansas Democrat Gazette newspaper. Titled Read to Me: Scarlett O'Hara evicted for the 20th anniversary edition of 'Winn-Dixie' It quotes DiCamillo's afterword, where she says "I found it painful to see Opal and Gloria Dump sitting together, side by side, reading from a book that I cannot in good conscience recommend to my readers." 

The book came out in 2000, was named as a Newberry Honor Book, and was made into a movie in 2005. Cicely Tyson played the part of Gloria. I don't know if the movie includes Gone with the Wind, and while I'm glad DiCamillo asked for these changes I am pretty sure that Black families were horrified when their children brought that book home. 

On June 17, 2016, I created a list of Books that Reference Racist Classics. There is a section on Gone with the Wind. It has DiCamillo's book on it. I'll add a note about the change, and add her book to another list I maintain, of book that have been revised

Opal is white. Gloria Dump is Black. Earlier in the book she is described as having "dark brown" skin. Kids call her a witch but Opal comes to know and care for her. Gloria's eyes are bad. The two spend a lot of time together. In the back yard, Gloria has a tree from which she's hung empty whiskey and beer bottles. She calls them ghosts of things she's done in the past. She used to drink. In chapter 15, Opal is at the library. She wonders if the wind makes the bottles knock against each other, and she wonders if they remind Gloria of things she's done wrong. She thinks she wants to comfort her, by reading a book to her. She asks Franny, the librarian to recommend one:
"Miss Franny, I've got a grown-up friend whose eyes are going on her, and I would like to read her a book out loud. Do you have any suggestions?" 
"Suggestions? Miss Franny said. "Yes ma'am, I have suggestions. Of course, I have suggestions. How about Gone with the Wind
"What's that about?" I asked her. 
"Why," said Miss Franny, "it's a wonderful story about the Civil War." 
"The Civil War?" I said. 
"Do not tell me you have never heard of the Civil War?" Miss Fanny Block looked like she was going to faint. She waved her hands in front of her face. 
"I know about the Civil War," I told her. "That was the war between the South and the North over slavery." 
"Slavery, yes," said Miss Franny. "It was also about states' rights and money. It was a terrible war. My great-grandfather fought in that war. He was just a boy." 
"Your great-grandfather?" 
"Yes ma'am, Littmus W. Block. Now there's a story."
Chapter 16 and 17 are about Littmus going to, being in, and returning from the war. The social media post about the new edition includes a photograph of the page where Miss Franny is recommending David Copperfield instead of Gone with the Wind:
"Who's he?" I asked her. 
"David Copperfield is the title of of the book, Opal." 
"Oh, well. what's it about?" 
"It's about a boy growing up. It's been a tradition in my family to read the book aloud. My great-grandfather, Littmus, read the book aloud to my grandfather every year. And when my father was an old man, I read it aloud to him." 
"It sure must be a good book," I said. 
"Why, that book mattered so much to Littmus that he even took a copy of it with him when he went off to fight in the Civil War. He was just a boy, you know. 
"Littmus was your great grand-father?" 
"Yes ma'am, Littmus W. Block. Now there's a story."
In chapter 18, Opal visits Gloria and starts reading aloud from Gone with the Wind. She read it "loud enough to keep her ghosts away." In chapter 20, Opal visits again and asks Gloria if she wants to hear some more Gone with the Wind. Gloria replies "Yes indeed" and that she has "been looking forward to it all day. Let's see what Miss Scarlett is up to now." 

So, Opal starts reading but her mind is elsewhere. She's thinking about Otis (another character), who told her that he had been put in jail when police had asked him to stop playing his guitar on the street (some people gave him money for doing it). When he wouldn't stop, the police tried to handcuff him, and he hit one of them. Now, he never plays his music on the street again. Opal stops reading and tells Gloria that they should have a party, like the big barbecue in Gone with the Wind, for Otis. The two plan the party. It will be at Gloria's and everyone is invited. Opal asks Otis to bring his guitar, to play at the party. 

In the anniversary edition, DiCamillo has a note that says a bit more than the Arkansas paper (above) included:
When I wrote this story more than twenty years ago, I gave Opal and Gloria Dump a classic novel of the South to share: Gone with the Wind. But when I reread Because of Winn-Dixie in preparation for this anniversary edition, I found it painful to see Opal and Gloria Dump sitting together, side by side, reading from a book that I cannot in good conscience recommend to my readers. I am grateful for this chance to give Opal and Gloria Dump a different book to share--a book that, while it is not perfect, does not diminish either one's humanity."
Ann Patchett wrote the introduction for the anniversary edition. She said:
This is a book about taking a chance on something that winds up saving your life, and it's also a book about growth and change. That's one of the things that makes this anniversary edition so special. The story you are now holding has changed since its original publication. When the book was first written twenty years ago, Opal went to the library looking for something to read aloud to her friend Gloria Dump, and Miss Franny Block gave her a copy of Gone with the Wind. Years later, Kate DiCamillo started to think more critically about Gone with the Wind  -- about its biases and prejudice -- and she regretted that she had not given Opal and Gloria Dump a different book to share. She thought, "It's time for things to change."
Towards the end, Patchett writes
"Because of Winn-Dixie has been read by millions and millions of people. They've cried and laughed and felt understood because of it. Some of them have felt rescued, while others have been reminded to reach out a hand to someone who could use it."

It is interesting to read and think about DiCamillo and Patchett's words about Gone with the Wind. Neither one says it is racist. That last paragraph from Patchett about millions who have read Because of Winn-Dixie exudes warmth but it also excludes children who were yanked right out of the story when they got to chapter 9 and learn about Gloria. That is where we learn about her, that her last name is Dump, and that the neighborhood kids call her a witch. People will argue that by the end of the book, readers love Gloria. They probably do, but the weight of coming to that point is on the shoulders of Black children. 

And what to do with Gone with the Wind? That (or the line about states rights) never got any pushback in the story. We simply have a white child reading it to an elderly Black woman who doesn't push back on it, either. 

Neither Patchett or DiCamillo refer to any of the pushback to Gone with the Wind. On June 14, 2020 The New York Times ran a story about Gone with the Wind being removed from HBO Max. It includes this photograph from 1940:

CrediAfro American Newspapers/Gado, via Getty 

I include the photo and the article in the New York Times because it demonstrates the fact that--for decades, African Americans have been saying no to the book. Surely DiCamillo's changes are due, in part, to learning about their objections. 

Over on that social media post that I read early this morning, some teachers are glad of the change. But, some are objecting to the change. Taking it out, they said, is DiCamillo "caving" to cancel culture. Some object in ways that suggest it is their only chance to teach about the Civil War. Surely they're speaking out of anger rather than as educators. I spent some time looking for lesson plans where teachers raise concerns about Gone with the Wind in the book, but I'm not finding any. If you find some, do let me know! 

Whether or not David Copperfield is a good replacement is for a different time. I welcome your thoughts on the change itself! 




Saturday, March 06, 2021

"Eskimo" in Seuss Books that Will No Longer Be Published

On March 2, 2021, Dr. Seuss Enterprises released a statement that they would no longer publish several of the Dr. Seuss books. Here's the statement:

Statement from Dr. Seuss Enterprises

Today, on Dr. Seuss’s Birthday, Dr. Seuss Enterprises celebrates reading and also our mission of supporting all children and families with messages of hope, inspiration, inclusion, and friendship.

We are committed to action.  To that end, Dr. Seuss Enterprises, working with a panel of experts, including educators, reviewed our catalog of titles and made the decision last year to cease publication and licensing of the following titles:  And to Think That I Saw It on Mulberry StreetIf I Ran the Zoo, McElligot’s Pool, On Beyond Zebra!, Scrambled Eggs Super!, and The Cat’s Quizzer.  These books portray people in ways that are hurtful and wrong.

Ceasing sales of these books is only part of our commitment and our broader plan to ensure Dr. Seuss Enterprises’s catalog represents and supports all communities and families.

As you see, their statement says things like "supporting all children and families" and "inclusion" and "represents and supports all communities and families." It lists the six books they will no longer publish but they don't give us any details on what--in those books--motivated their decision. 

The statement does not tell us who the experts on the panel were, or what they used to do their review. I strongly suspect they drew heavily from The Cat is Out of the Bag: Orientalism, Anti-Blackness, and White Supremacy in Dr. Seuss's Children's Books by Katie Ishizuka and Ramón Stephens. Published in Feb of 2019 in Research on Diversity in Youth Literature, as of this writing it has been downloaded 274,425 times. Their study is excellent. 

I followed the news stories as people reacted to the statement. Many focused on the racist depictions in the well-known And to Think That I Saw It on Mulberry Street. It was first published in 1937. The National Post cites the "Chinaman who eats with sticks" and the "Rajah, with rubies" and notes "two fur-clad figures being pulled by a reindeer." The storyteller in the book is a boy named Marco who is imagining what he'll see as he goes to school. 

Here is the page with the two figures in fur:


The words on that page do not tell us anything about the two on the sled, but it is clear they are meant to be what Seuss probably thought of as "Eskimo." Marco is back in McElligot's Pool published in 1947 by Random House. It won a Caldecott Honor Award. In it, Marco is fishing in a pool that, he's told, is too small. It has nothing but junk that people throw in it (a boot, a can, a bottle, etc.) 

Marco, however, imagines that the pool is connected to an underground river that may even go beyond Hudson Bay. Here's that page:


The words on that page are:

Some Eskimo Fish
From beyond Hudson Bay
Might decide to swim down;
Might be headed this way!

In the top left you can see Seuss's depiction of an igloo, and a person holding a spear and clad in fur, much like the two men on the sled in And to Think I Saw It on Mulberry Street. The fish are shown wearing the same fur hood as the person is. Here's a close up of all three:


The third book that has the fur-clad figures is Scrambled Eggs Super! It came out in 1953. In it, a kid named Peter T. Hooper brags about the kinds of eggs he uses to make scrambled eggs and where they are. Here's the page to note:


The text there is:

Eggs! I'd collected three hundred and two!
But I needed still more! And I suddenly knew
That the job was too big for one fellow to do.
So I telegraphed north to some friends near Fa-Zoal
Which is ten miles or so just beyond the North Pole.
And they all of them jumped in their Katta-ma-Side,
Which is sort of a boat made of sea-leopard's hide,
Which they sailed out to sea to go looking for Grice,
Which is sort of a bird which lays eggs on the ice,
Which they grabbed with a tool which is known as a Squitsch,
'Cause those eggs are too cold to be touched without which.

The friends are shown in that same fur attire that we saw in the other two books. Their location is the North Pole, which is another clue for us that they, too, are meant to be "Eskimo." 

The North Pole, the igloo, and the fur are all part of the reductive and stereotypical imagery associated with the Inuit or Yupik people. 

Objections to that stereotyping are not new, but they are gaining visibility in recent years. In 2016, Alaska Native people objected when Alaska Airlines shared their new airplane and website designs that included "Meet our Eskimo.":


Blossom Twitchell said "I would rather be called 'Inupiaq' because that's what I am and my children are Yup'ik." She also said that she wants her children "to be able to connect to their culture" and doesn't want people to think of them as "little people that live in igloo's." The airline apologized and removed "Eskimo" from their website.

More recently, Dreyer's Grand Ice Cream, the maker of "Eskimo Pie" ice cream, announced a change in their use of the word. This image will no longer be used:



Seuss Enterprises, Alaska Airlines, and Dreyer's Grand Ice Cream are making business decisions that are good for their profit margin--and for the rest of us, too. 

If your work in any way includes reading, creating, acquiring, or reviewing children's books, you need to be aware of these developments. Far too many children's books have stereotypical content in them that looks a lot like what we see in the Seuss books. His books are old--but you'll find this sort of imagery in newer books, too. When you have a moment, take a look at the side-by-side analysis I did of Igloo Farm (which became Snowy Farm). 

If you want to help make change happen, follow and share the work of people in children's and young adult literature who are pointing to that imagery. You can start by following @ConsciousKid (Katie Ishizuka and Ramón Stephens) and @CrazyQuilts (Edith Campbell) on Twitter. Stereotypical and racist imagery can end, if you speak up. When you see stereotypes, say something! 

Wednesday, February 24, 2021

Native? Or, not? -- A Resource List

Dear AICL Reader,

Some of you are aware of the ongoing conversations about claims to being Native. A high profile case right now is Michelle Latimer, who said she was Native. People believed her. But then it turned out the people she claimed did not and do not, know her. 

Starting with this post on Feb 24, 2021, I am building a resource list of articles, books, and podcasts that I think others should be aware of--especially if you are editing, reviewing, or teaching material that is presented as being created by someone who says they are Native. The items are presented chronologically because some refer to previous ones. For many of you, this conversation is new. To Native people, it is not. You'll see several phrases used--like "playing Indian" and "pretendian" and you'll see that I include items about DNA testing.  

If you know of a resource I could add, please let me know by email or by using the comment form, below. And please share this page with your family, friends, and colleagues. 

Thanks,

Debbie

****

Playing Indian by Philip J. Deloria, published in 1999 by Yale University Press. [Added on Feb 24 2021]

The Boston Tea Party, the Order of Red Men, Camp Fire Girls, Boy Scouts, Grateful Dead concerts are just a few examples of the American tendency to appropriate Indian dress and act out Indian roles. This provocative book explores how white Americans have used their ideas about Indians to shape national identity in different eras—and how Indian people have reacted to these imitations of their native dress, language, and ritual.

At the Boston Tea Party, colonial rebels played Indian in order to claim an aboriginal American identity. In the nineteenth century, Indian fraternal orders allowed men to rethink the idea of revolution, consolidate national power, and write nationalist literary epics. By the twentieth century, playing Indian helped nervous city dwellers deal with modernist concerns about nature, authenticity, Cold War anxiety, and various forms of relativism. Deloria points out, however, that throughout American history the creative uses of Indianness have been interwoven with conquest and dispossession of the Indians. Indian play has thus been fraught with ambivalence—for white Americans who idealized and villainized the Indian, and for Indians who were both humiliated and empowered by these cultural exercises.

Deloria suggests that imagining Indians has helped generations of white Americans define, mask, and evade paradoxes stemming from simultaneous construction and destruction of these native peoples. In the process, Americans have created powerful identities that have never been fully secure.


Becoming Indian: The Struggle over Cherokee Identity in the Twenty-first Century by Circe Sturm, published in 2011 by the School for Advanced Research Press. [Added on Feb 24 2021]

In Becoming Indian, author Circe Sturm examines Cherokee identity politics and the phenomenon of racial shifting. Racial shifters, as described by Sturm, are people who have changed their racial self-identification from non-Indian to Indian on the US Census. Many racial shifters are people who, while looking for their roots, have recently discovered their Native American ancestry. Others have family stories of an Indian great-great-grandmother or -grandfather they have not been able to document. Still others have long known they were of Native American descent, including their tribal affiliation, but only recently have become interested in reclaiming this aspect of their family history. Despite their differences, racial shifters share a conviction that they have Indian blood when asserting claims of indigeneity. Becoming Indian explores the social and cultural values that lie behind this phenomenon and delves into the motivations of these Americans—from so many different walks of life—to reinscribe their autobiographies and find deep personal and collective meaning in reclaiming their Indianness. Sturm points out that “becoming Indian” was not something people were quite as willing to do forty years ago—the willingness to do so now reveals much about the shifting politics of race and indigeneity in the United States.


Native American DNA: Tribal Belonging and the False Promise of Genetic Science by Kim TallBear, published in 2013 by University of Minnesota Press. [Added on Feb 24 2021]

Because today’s DNA testing seems so compelling and powerful, increasing numbers of Native Americans have begun to believe their own metaphors: “in our blood” is giving way to “in our DNA.” In Native American DNA, Kim TallBear shows how Native American claims to land, resources, and sovereignty that have taken generations to ratify may be seriously—and permanently—undermined.

 

'There is no DNA test to prove you're Native American' by Linda Geddes, is an interview with Kim TallBear in New Scientist on Feb 4, 2014. [Added on Feb 24 2021]


Joseph Boyden exploits mythical Native identity by Doug George-Kanentiio at Indianz is an Opinion piece subtitled "Joseph Boyden: An Imposter Under Native Law" on Jan 6, 2017. [Added on Feb 24 2021]


Exposing false Native heritage at Native America Calling on Feb 10, 2021. [Added on Feb 24 2021]

After a CBC investigation called her claimed Indigenous heritage into question, Canadian filmmaker Michelle Latimer resigned as director of the CBC-TV series “Trickster,” a show she co-created. The National Film Board also dropped its intention to distribute her film “Inconvenient Indian” and pulled it from a Sundance Film Festival screening. It’s the latest in a continuing series of prominent people who initially benefitted from their Indigenous identity but were forced to backtrack when those claims couldn’t be documented. We’ll hear about the latest incident and an effort to expose those who improperly cash in on Native heritage. 

 

Distorted Descent: White Claims to Indigenous Identity by Darryl Leroux, published in 2019 by University of Manitoba Press. [Added on Feb 24 2021]

Distorted Descent examines a social phenomenon that has taken off in the twenty-first century: otherwise white, French descendant settlers in Canada shifting into a self-defined “Indigenous” identity. This study is not about individuals who have been dispossessed by colonial policies, or the multi-generational efforts to reconnect that occur in response. Rather, it is about white, French-descendant people discovering an Indigenous ancestor born 300 to 375 years ago through genealogy and using that ancestor as the sole basis for an eventual shift into an “Indigenous” identity today.

After setting out the most common genealogical practices that facilitate race shifting, Leroux examines two of the most prominent self-identified “Indigenous” organizations currently operating in Quebec. Both organizations have their origins in committed opposition to Indigenous land and territorial negotiations, and both encourage the use of suspect genealogical practices. Distorted Descent brings to light to how these claims to an “Indigenous” identity are then used politically to oppose actual, living Indigenous peoples, exposing along the way the shifting politics of whiteness, white settler colonialism, and white supremacy.  

For more information on the rise of the so-called ‘Eastern Metis’ in the eastern provinces and in New England, including a storymap, court documents, and research materials, visit the Raceshifting website, created by Unwritten Histories Digital Consulting.

How 'pretendians' undermine the rights of Indigenous people by Rebecca Nagle, published on April 2, 2019 at High Country News. [Added on Feb 24 2021]


Fraud in Native American Communities, a Special Issue of American Indian Culture and Research Journal, in honor of Suzan Shown Harjo. Edited by Nancy Marie Mithlo, Volume 43, Issue 4, 2019. [Added on Feb 24 2021]

  • Fauxskins, by Heid E. Erdrich
  • At the Center of the Controversy: Confronting Ethnic Fraud in the Arts, by Ashley Holland
  • Decentering Durham, by Nancy Marie Mithlo
  • Not Jimmie Durham's Cherokee, by Roy Boney, Jr.
  • Walk-Through at the Hammer, by James Lunda
  • A Chapter Closed? by America Meredith
  • What Shall We Do with the Bodies? Reconsidering the Archive in the Aftermath of Fraud, by Mario A. Caro.
  • Living in a (Shrodinger's) Box: Jimmie Durham's Strategic Use of Ambiguity, by Suzanne Newman Fricke
  • The Artist Knows Best: The De-Professionalism of a Profession, by Nancy Marie Mithlo
  • Hustling and Hoaxing: Institutions, Modern Styles, and Yeffe Kimball's "Native" Art, by Sarah Anne Stolte
  • Aspirational Descent and the Creation of Family Lore: Race Shifting in the Northeast, by Darryl Leroux
  • Closing the Gap: Ethics and the Law in the Exhibition of Contemporary Native Art, by Tahnee M. Ahtoneharjo-Growingthunder
  • Claims to Native Identity in Children's Literature, by Debbie Reese
  • Playing Indian, between Idealization and Vilification: Seems You have to Play Indian to be Indian, by Rosy Simas and Sam Aros Mitchell


On colonization, racial supremacy and playing Indian: A response to 'Statement of Global Indigenous Identity and Solidarity' by Rhiana Yazzie at Indianz on Oct 14, 2021.


The Pretendian Problem at Indian Country Today's newscast on Jan 28, 2021. [Added on Feb 24 2021]

First Nation filmmakers are now pushing for new legislation in Canada to penalize people who pretend to be Indigenous in order to access grants, awards and jobs intended for Indigenous people. There’s a long history of non-Natives assuming a tribal identity...everything from using red face in a Hollywood film, to the antics of the Boston Tea Party. Jeff Bear is a seasoned journalist who makes documentary films. He’s Maliseet and one of his most recent films is, “Samaqan: Water Stories.” It’s about the power of rivers. He also has produced a new series "Petroglyphs to Pixels." Jeff Bear joins us today to discuss Indian Country's pretend Indian problem.

 

A growing number of "Pretendian" artists and the potential repercussions at APTN's "InFocus" on Jan 28, 2021. [Added on Feb 24 2021]

It's a bizarre phenomenon - people pretending to be Indigenous to get jobs or grants or even just attention, because it's cool to be us.

What's not funny is they are taking highly lucrative work from Indigenous people. They're teaching our histories. They're telling our stories.

On this episode, we are putting Indigenous identity fraud InFocus.


The Convenient "Pretendian" at Canadaland on Feb 14, 2021. [Added on Feb 24 2021]

Latimer’s documentary Inconvenient Indian premiered at TIFF and reaped plaudits and awards. It’s now been pulled from distribution. Her series Trickster, based on a novel by Eden Robinson, debuted on the CBC and was slated for a second season. It’s been cancelled. Why does the Canadian cultural establishment make darlings of figures like Latimer? Ryan McMahon joins Jesse to discuss. Then documentary filmmaker Alethea Arnaquq-Baril, who is featured in Inconvenient Indian, considers the ethics and responsibility of storytelling, and why this controversy has been hurtful to so many Indigenous people. And Steven Lonsdale, whose seal hunt Latimer filmed for Inconvenient Indian, explains what he’d like to see done with that footage.


Contemplating the Consequences of Colonial Cosplay at Media Indigena on Feb 24, 2021. [Added on Feb 24 2021]

With issues of identity reaching a fever pitch of late, we thought we’d take its temperature. From Michelle Latimer’s contested claims to Indigeneity, to an ever-growing, quasi-underground list of Alleged Pretendians, not to mention a Twitter tempest over light-skin privilege, we’ll break down what’s at play, what’s at stake and—in part two—what might be ways out of this messy business.

Joining host/producer Rick Harp at the roundtable are Kim TallBear, associate professor in the Faculty of Native Studies at the University of Alberta and Canada Research Chair in Indigenous Peoples, Technoscience & Environment, as well as Candis Callison, Associate Professor in the Institute for Critical Indigenous Studies and the Graduate School of Journalism at UBC.


Creating Culpability for Colonial Cosplay: Punishment for Pretendians at Media Indigena on Feb 27, 2021. [Added on Mar 1 2021]

Punishment for Pretendians: the back half of our extended look at colonial cosplay. And if part one was all about the problem, this part’s all about solutions. Just what is to be done about all these faux First Nations actors, authors and academics? What mechanisms might we use, and by whose authority? Does it make sense to target all the players, or would it be better to re-write the rules of the game?

Back with host/producer Rick Harp to assess what's been put forth as ways to sift through the grift are Candis Callison, Associate Professor in the Institute for Critical Indigenous Studies and the Graduate School of Journalism at UBC, and Kim TallBear, associate professor in the Faculty of Native Studies at the University of Alberta as well as Canada Research Chair in Indigenous Peoples, Technoscience & Environment.



Monday, February 22, 2021

Questions and thoughts about place, time, and how a picture book starts

These are some random thoughts and questions that I am trying to bring together into a coherent paragraph that writers, editors, teachers, parents... everyone, really, can use to think critically about picture books. These thoughts might look like a poem but that's not my intent. I've got it laid out this way to give space to my thoughts. 

A picture book.

Any picture book.

Set in what is currently called the United States of America.


Every time, every book, 

I think about how it starts,

And where it starts,

And when it starts,

and what the answers to those questions tell me.


In the Arbuthnot lecture I gave,

I was critical of Sophie Blackall's book about a lighthouse.

Remember?

It centers a white family on what I see as the homeland of Indigenous people.


People love that book.

No... some people love that book.

It won the big award.

 

But it--and most books about people in what is currently known as the United States--leave out Inconvenient Facts. 

People say "but that [those Inconvenient Facts] is not what that book is about."

That is a Convenient Defense.

It lets them collude with a narrative they don't want to disrupt.  


I want to disrupt that narrative.

Do you? 




Monday, February 15, 2021

An Ojibwe Mother's Thoughts on James Bird's THE BRAVE

Editor's Note: AICL is pleased to host Allie Tibbetts's review of The Brave. She is a member of the Fond du Lac Band of Lake Superior Chippewa and an early childhood educator at the Fond du Lac Ojibwe School. She lives in Duluth, Minnesota, with her daughter, Zaagi. It joins the review that Dr. Janis A. Fairbanks did, reflects on the strength of Ojibwe women, and provides an important perspective on stories of their people. 

See related posts:

****

Would Ojibwe People--Who Live Off of Fish--Practice the 
"Catch and Release" Method of Fishing?
by Allie Tibbetts

The Brave is a story about a boy named Collin who grew up in California living with his father. Collin faced difficulties in school due to his obsession and compulsion with counting the words people speak. Collin’s alcoholic father decided it was time to send Collin home to his mother, who dwells on the Fond du Lac Reservation in Minnesota. That is my rez. Hearing my rez was the setting of the story piqued my interest. So I obtained a copy and started reading. 

I tried to read with an open mind, but I know for me, whenever indigenous people are featured in the media, a critical eye emerges, scanning for any discrepancy, any hint of a betrayal or diminishment of who we are. And in "The Brave", I found many. But also as an avid reader and lifelong fan of the young adult genre, I also found aspects of his writing I thoroughly appreciated. The author James Bird is a good writer for the young adult genre. What I love about young adult books, good ones anyway, is the ease of falling into the story and automatic interest in the characters. A good young adult novel will have you wanting to turn the page to read what happens next. And James achieves that, but not without some moments that left me, as an indigenous, Anishinaabe woman from the setting in the story, with some pause and quite taken aback. 

I attempted to read detachedly, just filing away such instances, one of the first the reference to Collin’s mother’s "fireskin". I’m not sure I like that description or have seen any I would describe as having such in the spectrum of hues on my rez. There were immediate stereotypical mystical Native tropes embodied within some of the character development. I suppose some of that could have been Collin subconsciously looking to have his personal stereotypes reinforced, which people do, and they find them where they can, whether they exist or not, but most weren’t really challenged throughout the book. 

Something that made it difficult for me, as someone from this area, who knows it intimately, was the complete lack of connectedness to the environment the book is set in. Geographically it did not make sense. Collin noticed mountains with snow. There are no mountains here. There are hills. Duluth is on a hill. There are no mountains, but there is the largest freshwater lake in the world in Duluth, a lake that I imagine our ancestors coming upon thousands of years ago and feeling at home as they were by the ocean before they left to travel here. Because that is where our people first came from. So, to me, the lake is significant to this area and to Duluth. But it must have escaped both Collin’s eyes and the author’s. I felt bamboozled in the story because it was said Collin would be going to his mother, who lived in Duluth, Minnesota, so I was excited. I don’t live on the rez. I live in Duluth. So I thought, “Oh! She’s from Fond du Lac living in Duluth, like me!” But that wasn’t the case. I’m not sure if the author thought the rez was in Duluth. Of course this is all ceded territory around here, but the only part of Duluth that is tribal land is where the casino sits downtown. There were several other discrepancies with the environment in the story and the reality of this area. Sadly, I had to imagine the book was in a different place to continue reading as unbiasedly as I could, lest I be interrupted by all my inner protestations regarding the mistakes. 

However there were two moments where I couldn't hold back my dismay. Maybe it was a culmination of all the wrongness and absurdities up until then, but when the main character's mother, an Ojibwe woman, stated to her son that when they fish, they "catch and release" because "fish have families too", I set my reader down, rolled my eyes, and sighed. 

From childhood, Ojibwe children (photo is of Allie Tibbetts)
learn to fish, much like their ancestors did. 

NO OJIBWE FISHERMAN OR WOMAN IS GOING TO CATCH AND RELEASE. We live off of fish. Still. To this day. Fishing, netting, and spearing are vital parts of our way of life. Not only for sustenance, but for connection to our ancestors and those to come and our community. Our ancestors didn’t think of us when signing those treaties so we could catch and release. Across Indian Country, we fight for the treaty rights our ancestors negotiated for us and that environmentalists and hippies try to take away from us. Unfortunately, this type of hokey hippie idea of being indigenous appears throughout the book, tainting the story. 

The second moment I threw my hands up in exasperation was finding out the Grandmother (who was probably the most obnoxiously stereotypical character, which stinks because Ojibwe Grandmothers are cool in their own right) was dead all along. I thought that was unnecessary. The ceremonial scenes also gave me pause and had elements unrecognizable to me, though considering I’m not an expert or even close to one, I will not delve much into that. I’m not sure how I feel about ceremony being written about in such a way, to be honest. 

There were times I felt I was reading a book written by a white person about us. But the author is not white. I came to the realization that perhaps the author is embodied in the main character, a boy alien to his people and homeland, looking for the magic he’s been told Indian people have. To some degree, I do think people are magical, not just indigenous people, but people, and life. There were moments in the story that were really moving to me. Spoiler alert here, but when Collin dreams of his newfound love Orenda turning into a butterfly as she talks about throughout the book, but then awakens to find her surrounded by loved ones, dying in bed, that was perhaps my favorite moment in the book. There were a lot of layers there with his dream juxtaposed against the harshness of the reality, but maybe the dream was real. Orenda’s father certainly thought so, as he embraced Collin after he related the dream to them at the bedside. I think there is enough beauty and magic in what is real without having to make things up. There is enough beauty and magic in my people and in the place I live without having to make things up. Unfortunately that was a missed opportunity. 

As an adult reader I am able to detach from the inaccuracies in the story. I know the truths about my people and homeland. But other people don't. Now they will think they know us, when they still don’t. I wish the author would have either chosen a made up place or chosen to do more research. I do think this book could have been really good, and there were moments where I saw it, but it was obscured by untruths. The truth is we are a real people and a real place, and the story did not resonate with me as being us or being here.

Sunday, February 14, 2021

An Ojibwe Educator's Review of THE BRAVE by James Bird

Editors Note: With permission, AICL is pleased to publish this review. Written by Dr. Janis A. Fairbanks, an enrolled member of the Fond du Lac Band of Lake Superior Chippewa, it provides an Ojibwe educator's analysis of the Ojibwe content in The Brave, by James Bird. 


****


The Title Could Have Been a Statement from the Book: 
"I Don't Know Anything about Native Americans: Only 
What I've Seen in Movies and Read in School"
Review by Janis A. Fairbanks

Two friends asked me if I had read James Bird’s The Brave (Feiwel and Friends, 320 pp., $16.99; ages 9 to 12), a fantasy/fiction work. I had not but decided to put it on my reading list because my community is the Fond du Lac Reservation in Northern Minnesota, the setting of the book. I thought it would be fun to read about events taking place at home. Unfortunately, now that I have read it, I found several references to Fond du Lac Reservation are inaccurate. 

The publisher, McMillan Books publicizes the book’s content as follows: 

Perfect for fans of Rain Reign, this middle-grade novel The Brave is about a boy with an OCD issue and his move to a reservation to live with his biological mother. 

Collin can't help himself—he has a unique condition that finds him counting every letter spoken to him. It's a quirk that makes him a prime target for bullies, and a continual frustration to the adults around him, including his father. 

When Collin asked to leave yet another school, his dad decides to send him to live in Minnesota with the mother he's never met. She is Ojibwe, and lives on a reservation. Collin arrives in Duluth with his loyal dog, Seven, and quickly finds his mom and his new home to be warm, welcoming, and accepting of his condition. 

Collin’s quirk is matched by that of his neighbor, Orenda, a girl who lives mostly in her treehouse and believes she is turning into a butterfly. With Orenda’s help, Collin works hard to overcome his challenges. His real test comes when he must step up for his new friend and trust his new family. 

NYPL Best Books of the Year, School Library Best Books of the Year 
Source: https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250247742 
Date accessed: 2/12/2021 

My question to the publisher and NYPL Best Books of the Year, School Library Best Books of the Year selection committees is this: who from the Fond du Lac Reservation, a real existing community in Northern Minnesota, verified that any of the statements made regarding the environment of the reservation are true? Even though the book is fiction, the place is not. Community members are capable of commenting on aspects of reservation life and whether the book is suitable for school use. As a scholar and active participant of Ojibwe culture, history, language and literature of the Great Lakes Ojibwe who also holds a Doctor of Philosophy in American Studies and a Master of Education degree, is tribally enrolled and lives on the Fond du Lac Reservation, I do not agree that this book is suitable for use in schools with middle school age students. Fantasy and fiction should not be allowed to abuse the reality of the setting of the story. This could have been avoided by consulting with the FDL reservation community. 

Taken in June of 2019 at the Kiwenz Language Camp,
this photo reflects the protocol of consulting with elders
about Ojibwe language, culture, and history that will be
provided to students, artists, writers, and visitors at the camp.
(Source: Dr. Fairbanks, seated at end of table.)  

While it may be expected that a certain amount of leeway could be granted for the events that take place, letting fantasy overtake the truth of the basic setting of the story is not acceptable in terms of paying proper respect to the inhabitants of the host territory. 

In this case the host community is the Fond du Lac Reservation. We are a relatively small physical area, about 100,000 square miles divided into three districts but small enough that the annual powwows attract participants from all three districts. Visiting each of the three community centers can be accomplished in about an hour driving from place to place. We are not as far off the beaten track as the book implies. The one factual point that is correct in the book is that I-35 is the freeway next to the reservation. 

Driving on that freeway, I’ve never seen any graffiti on the overpasses relevant to our Fond du Lac Band of Ojibwe. Collin, the main character in the book, is thinking, “As the sun slowly dips into the earth, it lights up the tribal designs painted onto the bridges and overpasses as we drive beneath them. They resemble the logos that superheroes plaster on their costumes across their chests. They look like birds with jagged edges instead of feathers, kind of similar to those drawings we read about while studying Egypt and the pyramids.” Huh? Even if our artists painted on the overpasses, the result would more likely be woodland florals or scenes of the seasonal rounds, not logos that look like the costumes of superheroes. 

Continuing this highway ride, Collin states: “On the side of the highway, I see a small makeshift pop-up shop with a sign that reads AUTHENTIC NATIVE AMERICAN JEWELRY.” I’ve not seen a pop-up shop of Authentic Native American Jewelry near Fond du Lac, although we have several home-based jewelry makers and other artists who sell high quality goods to their customers. There is a gift shop in the local casino, but that hardly qualifies as a “makeshift pop-up shop.” 

There is also a repeated reference to no radio reception on the reservation. Three examples: 1) “Wow. I live somewhere where there is no radio reception.” 2) “The radio kicks on as soon as we leave the reservation” and 3) “there’s no radio reception this deep on the reservation.” Not only do we get radio reception everywhere on Fond du Lac, but the band also owns and operates its own radio station WGZS 89.1 FM which is located within the reservation boundaries. The reservation is adjacent to Cloquet and only 15 miles from Duluth, two urban areas with radio broadcasting that is heard anywhere on the reservation. 

The book is fiction, and the author states that he is an enrolled member of Grand Portage Band of Ojibwe, although he grew up away from the reservation in Southern California. One of his stated goals is to write about Minnesota, with Grand Portage being next on his list. This plan should be revisited, at least until the author has had an opportunity to visit the reservation for a longer time, talk to more of his community members and learn more about the demographics of his community. My reaction to “The Brave” is that the title could have been a statement from the book: “I Don’t Know Anything About Native Americans: Only What I’ve Seen in Movies and Read in School.” That may prepare the reader for the dismally inaccurate portrayal of life on the Fond du Lac Reservation. 

Being “half-Indian” as the author refers to himself but being raised by his Ojibwe mother away from the reservation provided the author with an opportunity to grow up in California, where peach orchards are present and pungent when peaches ripen. But it denied him the opportunity to experience what his “half-people” (sic) on the reservation experienced. His mother told him stories, but his main experience was that of an urban Indian. If anything, he could have based his book in California among the urban Indian population of whom he was one, rather than attempting to base his story among an existing reservation with which he had no actual experience. (Disclaimer: I use the term “urban Indian” as one of the many labels that have been attached to indigenous peoples who live in urban areas.) 

There is reference to a magical valley that includes throngs of butterflies in October. There is constant reference to an abundance of peaches that his character Orenda feeds to the butterflies in her yard, giving a peach to the main character Collin. “I plucked them from the tree myself,” she tells Collin. The problem with that is peaches don’t grow anywhere on Fond du Lac Reservation. And to have a large supply of peaches in October would present a financial challenge to someone who throws them out by the bagsful to feed butterflies. Orenda lives on the reservation, next door to Collin’s mother who came from “the wrong side of the tracks.” Given that description, we can assume Orenda is also from the wrong side of the tracks and would hardly be able to afford to buy sacks of peaches to feed her butterflies. 

Likewise, the ceremonies mentioned remind me of New Age attempts at depicting what someone thinks goes on in actual ceremonies. To present these “ceremonies” to a group of middle school age students is problematic. An old Native American man sitting in a teepee is such a stereotypical scene. Teepees are a plains structure and not common on an Ojibwe reservation, although they have been built or encouraged by our Dakota neighbors. In Minnesota among the Ojibwe, the traditional structure is not a teepee but a wiigiwaam or waaginogaan, both dome shaped housing structures. The use of four spirit helpers using different color tongs and wearing matching robes is comic book fare. It is better to omit this type of scene when one is writing for middle school students. It will merely perpetuate already stereotypical images of who Native Americans are and what they do. There is also mention of a “Wolf Test” as a ceremony the Ojibwe do. Although I have attended and conducted ceremonies for more than fifty years, this ceremony or any version of it is one I have never encountered. 

The term “Brave” is not used when we refer to our boys and men except when it is given as a title to boys at powwows equivalent to the title “Princess” for girls. Both designations to me are colonial constructs. “Brave” is an English word with sometimes stereotypical images and associations. Think mascots. Our Fond du Lac Ojibwe School has a boys’ basketball team with the team name “Ogichidaa.” We generally use the term “Ogichidaa” when referring to a warrior and the language encompasses all the meanings of the word. Our Fond du Lac Ojibwe School uses “Ogichida” (phonetic spelling) for their team name. 

Conversely, the use of Ojibwe language as used in the book may create misinformation and is best avoided. One of the characters is named Ajidimoo which in Ojibwe does mean squirrel. The name is shortened to Aji which in Ojibwe means nothing. Ojibwe does not function like English. Since Ojibwe is the official language of the reservation, many Fond du Lac readers are likely aware of this corruption. Likewise, Collin listens to a recorded story that says, “The wolves were so thankful that they called the boy Ma’iingan which means our brother wolf in wolf tongue” (p. 201) However, Ma’iingan means wolf in the Ojibwe language. There is a concept of “Brother Wolf” but Ma’iingan simply means wolf (in Ojibwe.) It is easy to find word translations in various Ojibwe dictionaries, notably The Ojibwe People’s Dictionary, but the correct conjugation and application of words requires much more than the short dictionary definitions. Since Ojibwe is the official language of the Fond du Lac Reservation, to find mistakes in the application of the language in this book based on this reservation and meant for middle school age children is disturbing. Fond du Lac Ojibwe students or other students who are studying the Ojibwe language may read the book and wonder about the alterations in meaning as I did. 

Overall, I would not recommend this book for young impressionable readers or for use in middle school classrooms. It may be useful in a college level creative fiction writing class as a case study in what can go wrong when you attempt to place a work of fiction in an actual landscape without consulting the community on basic issues of the environment the author wishes to portray. These issues center around culture and accountability to that community. The use of imagination can account for only a bit of leeway before it bubbles over as cultural appropriation and disrespect to the community portrayed without consultation or basis in fact. 

I encourage stories from Native American writers, as we strive to tell our own stories. However, there is help available to our writers to help ensure that their voices are heard in a way that does not alienate or disrespect the culture. Reviews by non-indigenous readers miss the subtle cultural and historical affronts simply because they have no experience recognizing them. It is best to involve the target Native American community in the consultative phase before the story is finalized