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

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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.

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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.

Thoughts on Patricia MacLachlan's THE HUNDRED-YEAR BARN (and my conclusion: Not Recommended)

On October 8, 2019, a reader wrote to ask me if I had seen Patricia MacLaughlan's The Hundred-Year Barn. Published by HarperCollins and illustrated by Kenard Pak, it came out recently.

Though the reader did not say why they were asking me about The Hundred-Year Barn, my hunch is that they read my article, An Indigenous Critique of Whiteness in Children's Literature (write to me and I'll send you a copy of it). The article is a published account of the remarks I made when I gave the 2019 May Hill Arbuthnot Lecture in Madison, WI.

In that lecture, I talked about the 2018 Caldecott Award winner, Hello Lighthouse (by Sophie Blackall) which I view as the epitome of Whiteness and the embodiment of the nostalgia we hear when we read the news ("Make America Great Again"). I said:

I have no doubt that people think books like Hello Lighthouse are "neutral" or "apolitical." That's Whiteness at work. From my perspective, the politics in Hello Lighthouse are front and center. Its nostalgia for times past is palpable. In Blackall's book, the life of a white family is affirmed and the lighthouse that they live in is on what used to be Native lands. There's no neutrality there. In fact, if we think about it, every children's book for which the setting is this continent, is set on what used to be Native lands. If we could all hold that fact front and center every time we pick up a children's book set on this continent, how might that change how we view children's literature? How might that shape the literature as we move into the future?

People did not (and do not) like me saying that about Blackall's book. That is, however, my sincere appraisal of it and my questions are sincere, too. What if we did think about the land every time we pick up a children's book like The Hundred-Year Barn?

Here's the description of The Hundred-Year Barn from the HarperCollins website:

One hundred years ago, a little boy watched his family and community come together to build a grand red barn. This barn become his refuge and home—a place to play with friends and farm animals alike.

As seasons passed, the barn weathered many storms. The boy left and returned a young man, to help on the farm and to care for the barn again. The barn has stood for one hundred years, and it will stand for a hundred more: a symbol of peace, stability, caring and community. 

In this joyful celebration generations of family and their tender connection to the barn, Newbery Medal–winning author Patricia MacLachlan and award-winning artist Kenard Pak spin a tender and timeless story about the simple moments that make up a lifetime.
This beautiful picture book is perfect for young children who are curious about history and farm life.

The barn was built in 1919. We aren't told where (geographically), but Lachlan's dedication to her grandparents suggests that she may have had North Dakota prairies in mind when she wrote this story. But, she was born in Wyoming and said that she carries a bag of prairie dirt with her, so it could be Wyoming rather than North Dakota. What was going on in those states in the early 1900s? North Dakota became a state of the US in 1889. Wyoming became a state in 1890.

I'll say this, just to be obvious: all that land belonged to Native Nations.

I wanted to read The Hundred-Year Barn to see if there was any mention of Native people. I wondered if there was an author's note that said a bit more about that land, that barn, that family. In short: no. I've got the book in front of me today and it is simply a white family and community. Not a single mention of Native people or communities. Its history starts in 1919 with a white family.

Now--I know some of you are saying "MacLachlan's book isn't about Native people!" and "Don't judge it for what it doesn't have in it." But those are thin arguments, aren't they? If we think back to children's books that, for decades, showed women in narrow ways, critics asked questions, right? Asking questions about the contents of books is one mechanism to drive change.

I'm pretty sure that, in 1919, Native people were watching White people building barns on what was once Native homeland. And that, in that hundred-year period, Native people watched more and more White people move on to Native homelands and build things.

I'd bet, as a matter of face, that there were lawsuits in federal courts, through which Native Nations were trying to get the US to honor treaties it made with them.

The Hundred-Year Barn is--to some--a lovely story. To a Native person--to me--it is one like so many others that erase Native people from existence. It denies truths to children. And it feeds a nostalgia for a time that never really was like what you see when you read MacLachlan's book. The Hundred-Year Barn is not a good that I would recommend, to anyone. All kids deserve better than that.

Not Recommended: LOVE, PENELOPE by Joanne Rocklin

Editor's Note: Below is a twitter review of Love, Penelope a book I started reading last week. When I came to a passage with Native content, I paused the read, noted the content and in some instances, added a resource. I used "Spooler" to capture my twitter review and have edited them below, for clarity. If something doesn't make sense to you, please let me know through a comment. New information I provide is in brackets. When you see "You" in the tweets, it is because "You" is what Penny uses in her letters to her as-yet unborn baby sister.

A twitter review of a book called LOVE, PENELOPE by Joanne Rocklin. Published in 2018 by Abrams. 

The subtitle is "Letters from a big sister who knows about life." Penelope is excited about this new life growing in her Mama and writes to her in "Dear You" letters. 

In the second letter, Penelope talks about a heritage project she has to do for school, about where her family lived before they went to California (where the book is set). 

Her project gets off to a rough start (she's in 5th grade) because of a lie she told to her teacher. 

In the letter on Nov 29, Penny (Penelope) writes to You, that they have two mamas: Becky, and Sammy. 

Becky was married to a man, William. He died in a motorcycle accident when Penny was little. Then, Becky met Sammy. The three live in Oakland where Sammy has many relatives who have been there forever. 

With that bit of info on Sammy, you can probably guess why I'm reading LOVE, PENELOPE. 

"Many of Sammy's relatives have been here forever. Ohlone forever. OH-LO-NEE. As in native Californian."

That's cool [the thing that I thought is cool is that Rocklin tells readers that the Ohlone have been there forever] but then... 

"Sammy is 50 percent Ohlone."

Is that what a real-life Sammy would say? Generally, a person who is a tribal member or citizen of a specific nation is 100% a citizen of that nation. Most ppl rdg this thread are citizens of the US. If your mother was born in France, that doesn't make you 50% American [and 50% French]. 

People get into messy spaces when they equate citizenship in this or that nation with the racial or ethnic identity of their parents. 

Now, back to my twitter review of LOVE, PENELOPE. 

(Oh, meant to say a bit more about the Ohlones being "real Californians." That's like calling Native peoples "the First Americans." It is an error. Ohlones (and any Native nation) pre-date "the United States" or any of its 50 states.)

In her letter to You on Tuesday, December 2, Penny tells us about that heritage project she has to do for Mr. Chen. 

He [Mr. Chen] says that "The United States has always been a nation of immigrants." 

I hope that Penny challenges him on that...

And... she does! 

As she hears classmates talk about where their family is from, she says "My ancestors were always, always here. They didn't ARRIVE from anywhere. They were already here!" 

Good, Penny! 

Mr. Chen asks for more info. She says:

“I am descended from a native Californian tribe. The Ohlone, to be specific.”

She thinks that is a lie because Sammy isn't her biological parent. [For the most part she uses "fabrication" instead of "lie" to describe what she's done.] 

She goes on: 

"And princesses." Not ones with gold crowns and gowns, but "The brave kind with clothes made of animal skins."

Oh, dang. Did Sammy tell her THAT? Is that going to get corrected somewhere as this story unfolds? 

At the moment, I'm thinking of how an Ohlone child would read/respond to this story. Or any Native child. It seems to me that the author's audience isn't a Native child. 

On Saturday, December 6, Penny's letter to You is about Sammy's brother, Ziggy. He plays a ukelele. Penny, her mom, and Sammy are helping Ziggy update his resume. He's looking for work. 

Sunday, December 28, Penny is visiting Grandma Lorraine and Great Grandma Grace (Sammy's mom and grandmother). Penny plans to get some info "about Ohlone artifacts and rituals and ceremonies" so she can continue with her "fabrication."

Grace is "probably way over eighty" and has wrinkles, but soft skin. And she's got "long black hair, as black as a raven, as black as coal, as black as a deep, dark night." And, she has "pretty designs of dots and lines on her chin in the traditional Ohlone way."

Ok.... time for me to look over resources on the Ohlones. 

Two things to note: there are 109 tribal nations in California that have federal recognition. None of them have Ohlone in their name. 

But, INDIAN COUNTRY TODAY has an article about the Muwekma Ohlone Tribe's effort to get that recognition. Do read it! 

Here's the Muwekma Ohlone's website, with details. 

Before you begin creating Native characters, you gotta do a lot of research. The fruits of your research may not appear on the page, but it will be there, in the quality of the character and Native content. 

I noted the Muwekma Ohlone's page on their history with the fed gov; another resource is Deborah Miranda's BAD INDIANS. 

Dr. Miranda is Ohlone/Costanoan-Esselen. Here's their website: Ohlone/Costanoan-Esselen Nation.

They're at Monterey Bay (not San Francisco, like the Muwekma Ohlone), but I think Dr. Miranda's book would add some depth to an author's knowledge. 

There's lot of articles on the Muwekma Ohlone website.

Back to LOVE, PENELOPE. In the letter to You on Sunday, Dec 28, Penny is visiting Sammy's mother and grandmother. 

"Both of them are 100 percent Ohlone. Sammy is only 50 percent because Grandma Lorraine married the late Mr. Henry Bach, who was German."

Rocklin (the author of Love, Penelope) did this percent thing earlier, too, in the Sept 29th letter. 

Oh... Rocklin responded to my tweets about that. Here's mine and her first tweet-reply:

And here's the second part of her reply:

[Inserting her reply for people who use screen readers. Rocklin wrote: "I agree with the importance of sensitivity to this issue, the conflation of ethnicity, citizenship and place of residence. To be fair, Penny was asked to tell the story of how her family came to live in California, a common assignment in California schools. She realized that her stepmom's Ohlone community had "always" been there, yes, before the US existed, and she had an important story to understand.]

I'm thinking about Rocklin's reply. She understands why it is not ok to conflate ethnicity, citizenship, and place of residence but wants me to be fair because this is Penny's story. Hmm. 

It seems it might be one of those stories where a white character is going to unlearn stereotypical things about a Native people. One goal in this kind of story is for others to unlearn those stereotypes, too. When the author/white character are outsiders to the particular culture that is being stereotyped, the readers (children) of that culture have to... bear with it so that white character/white readers 'gets it.' 

That's a huge ask of a Native child. 

Reasons why "50 percent Ohlone" is a problem are related to monied efforts to undermine Native sovereignty by denying a nation's status and efforts to take Native children from their nations and place them in non-Native foster or adoptive homes. See National Indian Child Welfare Act. 

For non-Native writers, creating Native content and characters--especially in this period of diversity--has allure, but for Native people impacted by that writing, the stakes are very high. These non-Native fictions can work against our well-being. 

So, Penny is visiting Sammy's mother and grandmother to gather info for her heritage project. Her first question is about ceremonies... "...what was your wedding ceremony like?" Clearly, Penny thought there was some Ohlone ceremony for marriage. 

Grandma Lorraine told her that she got married in Vegas by a guy who looked like Elvis. I like what Grandma Lorraine said! Penny's question reminds me of undergrad students I taught who were curious about Native weddings. There's a lot of bogus info online--so be wary of that! 

Course, a Vegas wedding ceremony is of no help to Penny and her heritage project, so she moves on to "precious artifacts of their Ohlone heritage." She knows Grandma Lorraine has an abalone necklace, so she asks her to put it on, take a photo, print it out, and give it to her. Penny asks Great Grandma Grace if she has "an Ohlone artifact that is precious to her." 

Artifact is an interesting word. I don't use it when I'm talking with friends of other Native nations... or Jewish friends, or Catholic friends... Do you? 

Great Grandma Grace says "Well, MY precious artifact is a beautiful round red-and-white basket with green and red feathers and shiny abalone beads." 

Artifact, again. Do you use that word to talk about things specific to your culture or nation? I don't. 

Grace tells Penny about Ohlone baskets. Penny wants a photo of the basket but Grace tells her that it "is a memory of a story about the basket. Memories and stories are just about the most precious things the Ohlone have left. We've lost a lot, Penny."

Grandma Lorraine goes on, telling Penny about a memorial park they go to every year, the day after Thanksgiving. Penny recalls going there once with Sammy. She remembers "chanting and the drumming." Some Native ppl will object to use of "chanting" to describe singing. 

"Chanting" is an outsider word. 

The park is the site of a shell mound that was where Ohlone buried their dead. Americans built an amusement park, and later, a paint factory on it. Grandma Lorraine says they begged developers to leave it but nobody listened to them. 

So, every year, they go to that place and tell others what happened. Penny understands, now, why Grandma Lorraine and Great Grandma Grace won't shop at the mall that is on the site now. 

Penny is now wondering if she should tell Mr. Chen she isn't Ohlone. 

In her letter on Jan 17, 2015, Penny tells You that she was going to tell Mr. Chen that she isn't Ohlone. Before she could, though, she showed him a drawing she had done of the basket that Great Grandma Grace had described. He was, to use Penny's word, BONKERS over it. 

He asks if it is in her family; she says yes; he is surprised because he thought all the baskets had been taken to Russia or Britain. 

Some, no doubt, did go there but why leave out the US museums and private collectors who have them? 

Mr. Chen tells Penny the local museum has a reproduction, but the one her family has should be in that museum. Penny feels pride over his words.

Now--we know there is no real basket--but even if there was a real one, Mr. Chen's idea that it should be in the museum is messed up. 

Penny tells Mr. Chen that the (non-existent) basket is on its way to the museum. That's kind of messed up, too. Why would it be going to that museum rather than, maybe, a museum or office run by the Ohlones? 

Mr. Chen looks at other parts of her drawing, especially the "wren feathers in the Indian chief's headdress; and the real sticks for the teepees." 

What is Penny's source for that? Mr. Chen asks if the dark marks at the top are storm clouds. Penny meant them to be bison and isn't sure "if the Ohlone ever met up with bison" so she says yes, she meant them to be storm clouds. 

Mr. Chen tells her she needs to "rethink that headdress and, also, the tepees." (Noting the two spellings Rocklin used for tipi: teepee and tepee.)

He also thinks she's drawn "too much warfare. All those spears! You may have forgotten some of what you learned about the Ohlone in third grade. And, most important of all, information about your own heritage."

He leaves the classroom and comes back with a handful of books for her to use. She admits she got her info from old movies (note: new movies have those same stereotypes). She says she knows "the teepees aren't right, but it was fun gluing on those twigs."

He asks if her parents saw it, and she said yes (another lie). He tells her to interview the people in her family. 

Fact: teachers/professors do that sort of thing all the time. Handing Native people books to learn abt our culture = not good practice! 

Mr. Chen, reminding Penny of what she learned about Ohlone people in third grade made me cringe. He seems to be saying that whatever she learned was good. For those who don't know, third graders in California do a lot of projects where they visit missions...

... and sometimes make dioramas of Indians being cared for in the missions as if it was a good. In reality, Native ppl were kidnapped, put in chains, enslaved, raped... those missions are far from "good." I know teachers who aren't doing that anymore. Thank goodness. 

Earlier in this thread I referred to Deborah Miranda's book. She also did some writing about those lessons (also done in 4th grade classrooms): Lying to Children about the Missions and the Indians.  

And I know Native parents who don't want their kids doing projects like that. Please--if you're a teacher, don't do them! I wish Mr. Chen had apologized to Penny for that third grade Ohlone unit. 

That night at home, Penny starts reading the books Mr. Chen gave her. She's a huge basketball fan, so when she reads that the Ohlone liked to throw spears through a hoop, she decides it is close enough to basketball to say "THE OHLONE INVENTED BASKETBALL."

That throw-a-spear-through-a-hoop... Some day I might dig into it because it is one of those "Indian" things you see attributed to many tribal nations. It is possible [that many different ones did that activity], but I'd like to know more abt it. In most descriptions, a hoop is rolled on the ground, not hung on a pole. 

It sounds like the book Mr. Chen gave Penny to read is biased. She doesn't know that, though (and I guess he didn't either). She's going to use info from the bk plus info from Grandma Lorraine abt the shellmound for her heritage project. 

I like that Penny wants to provide her classmates with info about the mound. That's recent, and real, and people should learn about it. 

In the letter on Feb 10, 2015, Penny tells You that she had asked Sammy what her Ohlone heritage means to her. Sammy tells her that she has two heritages: German, who had come here 100 years ago, and Ohlone, who have lived here almost forever. 

Penny sees that Sammy is "starry-eyed and proud thinking about her heritage." Sammy tells her that her Ohlone heritage has a bigger part of her heart, that "you cherish something more when it's in danger of being erased."

Given that the two Ohlone tribal nations I've referred to in this thread seem to be the ones that Sammy might belong to, and given that both are working on federal recognition, Sammy's focus on erasure, without mentioning recognition, is a missed opportunity. 

It strikes me as the writing of someone who doesn't know much about sovereignty. Far too many ppl in the US think of Indigenous ppls as cultural groups rather than as sovereign nations. 

With "culture" as the framework, we get material aspects of life--like drumming and baskets--but not sovereignty. Indeed, sovereignty is THE most important attribute. 

In that same Feb 10 letter, Penny tells her mom and Sammy that Grandma Lorraine and Great Grandma Grace had told her about the shell mound. Her mom tells her that her and Sammy had been trying to protect her frm that sad story. 

But... earlier in the book when these grandma's were telling Penny about the mound, Penny told the she remembered going there before with her mom and Sammy and that she remembers "chanting" and drumming. Remember? 

Sammy goes on to tell her "the important thing to remember" is that the "Ohlone didn't disappear." that "A long time ago, people took our land. They made us live in the California missions. They tried to force us to forget our language and our customs and our stories."

This makes me wonder what Sammy told Penny when Penny was in third grade. Did she go to the school to tell Penny's third grade teacher anything? Also, those missions aren't really "California missions." They are Catholic missions in California. 

In Penny's letter on Sunday, March 22, she tells You that she had told Hazel her secret. "...I do not possess any Ohlone DNA, and that I had borrowed Sammy's heritage. Sammy is a relative by adoption and by domestic partnership only." 

Ohlone DNA? What is that? 

How are readers expected to interpret "Ohlone DNA"? Surely Sammy knows there's no such thing? 

A real Sammy would know there's no such thing. Does the author of LOVE, PENELOPE know? Or... has she fallen for the (false) promises of all those DNA testing services? 

A DNA test cannot tell you a specific tribe. For information on that, please read Dr. Kim TallBear's article, There is no DNA test to prove you're Native American and read her book, too [and tell others! The massive ignorance on DNA testing is something you can interrupt if you just take the time to share the information.] 

I'm reading quicker now, not noting as much of the Native content as I have been so far because it is kind of repetitive. 

In the letter on June 8, Penny tells You that she told Mr. Chen that she isn't Ohlone, that Sammy is her mom's domestic partner, and that Sammy adopted her. 

She also tells her mom and Sammy that she had "borrowed" (she uses that term throughout; I find it annoying) Sammy's Ohlone heritage. Sammy tells her to go ahead and talk about it because they are a family. 

Sammy asks Jenny "why do you have to say 'parent by domestic partnership'? Can't you drop a few words and just say 'parent'?" 

I like that correction. I wish Sammy asked Jenny to quit with the "50% Ohlone", too. But I don't think the author understands why that's not ok. 

On June 10, Penny does her presentation. The letter on June 26 is about the Supreme Court decision on same sex marriage, so, Penny's mom and Sammy plan to get married. On July 7, You is born and named Mary Joy, and the story ends. 

In the Acknowledgements, the author thanks Corinna Gould, an activist and educator in Ohlone culture, of the Confederated Villages of Lisjan, but doesn't say what that person helped her with. 

And she thanks Linda Yamane, an Ohlone basket weaver, "for her beautiful basket in the museum." So, it doesn't seem that Yamane had a role in the book's content. In one of the letters Penny wrote, she described Yamane's basket. [It is important that students learn to read Acknowledgements with the same critical eye they read a book. This particular thanks (to Yamane) is odd. It tells us that Rocklin thinks that Yamane's basketry is important, but, ultimately, it means nothing for the quality of the Native content of Love, Penelope.] 

I'll end this twitter review of Joanne Rocklin's LOVE, PENELOPE. If you've read it over the last few days as I read Rocklin's book, you can guess that when this twitter review goes onto my blog, it will have a Not Recommended label. 

I haven't read reviews of it but my guess is that some people are pleased that Jenny has two mom's. That aspect of the story, some will argue, is so important that it matters more than problems with the Native content. Obviously, I disagree. 

Recently, many scholars and critics in children's and young adult literature are noting that an author carries the weight of their book, but there are others who play significant roles in a book getting published. 

In her Acknowledgements, Rocklin tells us her agent is Erin Murphy, and her editors are Susan Van Metre and Maggie Lehrman. From my point of view, their knowledge of Native peoples is lacking and contributed to the failures throughout LOVE, PENELOPE. Some will feel that the content of this thread and naming the agent/editors is "shaming" them publicly and that I should have written to them privately. 

Contacting them privately would help them, but it wouldn't help all the librarians who are selecting and deselecting books in their collections, and it wouldn't help teachers who, if they read this thread, might decide not to use the book. This review is not a "call" for the book to be withdrawn from shelves. It is criticism. It is not censorship. 

Criticism is not censorship. It is something writers study to improve their writing. I hope it proves useful to others.

Willa of the Wood

Willa of the Wood by Robert Beatty. Disney-Hyperion, 2018

Willa of the Wood is described as a middle-grade adventure. It's also a "series starter" -- other titles are in the works. It features some characters who are identified as Cherokee, which is why AICL is taking a look at it.

Spoilers ahead, probably.

Robert Beatty writes the extremely popular Serafina series. He has lots of fans. Evidently many of them are on a "team" that reviews free advance copies of his books on Goodreads, Amazon, etc. Willa of the Wood has received hundreds of favorable reviews, many of them over-the-top with enthusiasm for the plot, the main character, the fantasy world, etc. Quite a few of the reviewers acknowledge being part of the review team. Not saying that's wrong. But the boost is impressive, and I'd love to see Native writers get that sort of advance attention! More about the reviews in a moment.

Willa is a fairy-story of sorts, set in the very early 1900s in the mountains of what is currently called Tennessee. I was reminded (not always happily) of Ferngully, Avatar, and My Side of the Mountain. And even of Anthem. Why does anything in this fairy story sound like Ayn Rand? More on that shortly.

One of the themes here is assimilation vs cultural survival -- not of human societies but of a fantasy society the author calls the Faeran. They look kind of similar to humans, but have quills on their necks and sharp teeth. They have long kept their existence separate from humans, though the Cherokee supposedly know about them and tell stories of them "around their campfires at night." The Faeran have magical connections to nature. Or at least, they used to. Few of them still do when the story begins.

The Faeran are governed by an autocrat who says they must use the "Eng-lish" language,  for their own survival. (But if the Faeran must also hide their existence from humans, why would speaking English-only be an advantage?) This supposedly god-like charismatic leader is fascinated by humans' technology. He sends squads of teen and pre-teen Faeran to take things from the humans at night. He deals with dissent as power-hungry fearful dictators do. His mantra is "There is no I, only we." (That's what made me think of Anthem, Ayn Rand's teen-friendly allegory on the evils of cooperative societies in general.) To the Faeran, that means everyone must do what the leader wants. Willa soon runs afoul of him and finds herself homeless and on the run.

Willa's grandmother ("Mamaw"), her last living relative, is murdered as the plot heats up. She has taught Willa her "wood witch" knowledge of magic, herb-lore, etc., setting the child apart from other Faeran as well as from the humans. She has also taught Willa the old language, in secret. It's part of their bond, so I wondered why Willa doesn't call her grandmother by a Faeran name instead of one that's used by real-life English-speaking humans.

Some of the human characters in Willa are white-skinned invaders -- homesteaders and greedy, forest-killing loggers. The most sympathetic white character ("the man Nathaniel") becomes Willa's friend. The other whites are destroyers of the beloved trees. We eventually learn that Nathaniel was married to a Cherokee woman who has been killed. He believes their three children were also killed, but as Willa discovers, they were kidnapped by the Faeran.

In some ways (which might or might not be intentional on Beatty's part), Faeran existence parallels the experience of those Cherokee who managed to remain on their ancestral homelands when the rest of their people were forced westward during Removal. Their land and places that were home are damaged by greedy, murderous invaders. They're under intense pressure to change in order to survive. But the book isn't about Cherokee life in the early 1900s.

Not that Cherokees are erased in Willa. The word "Cherokee" appears more than 30 times. But the Cherokee Nation itself isn't mentioned -- not its existence or its history, including Removal (which in real life enabled people like Nathaniel and the tree-killers to do their things in the mountains). The Cherokee homelands are merely the setting for Faeran vs human and Faeran vs Faeran conflict.

Some mentions of "Cherokee": Willa recalls that Mamaw told her of a "lake that the Cherokee called Atagahi". The Faeren are eager to have "Cherokee arrowheads" as tips for their spears. Willa visualizes "Cherokee farmers" and has seen them walking on the road and "trading peacefully with homesteaders." She sees a dozen "Cherokee families" fleeing some disaster, including one boy who "definitely wasn't from the same clan" as the others and who, the author hints, may not be a typical human (Willa thinks his scent is that of a mountain lion). She has overheard Cherokees and homesteaders telling stories of a black panther. She recognizes that the names on 4 grave markers are probably "Cherokee names," and she recalls that "most of the Cherokee" lived on the other side of a mountain that is important to the Faeran. The "Cherokee called it Kuwa'hi" and settlers called it Clingman's Dome.

In his author's note, Beatty thanks three Eastern Band Cherokee people by name. All three are involved in preservation/renewal of the Cherokee language, and one is described as a storyteller. Beatty doesn't make clear how their "guidance and assistance" was useful in writing Willa. I think readers would benefit from knowing that.

The Cherokee children speak English in conversation, even with each other.  And though Cherokee names, storytelling, and geography figure in the book, the Cherokee characters themselves don't mention such things. In ways that aren't explained, Willa recognizes some people on sight as Cherokee. Other than that, it's as if they're Cherokee in name only.

Speaking of names, searching on the names of the 3 children (Iska, Inali, and Hialeah) and their mother, Ahyoka, didn't turn up an authoritative source to confirm whether those would be Cherokee names. At least three of them might be, but my search didn't confirm or refute authenticity. If you're familiar with the Cherokee language or history, maybe you'll know.  I also found suggestions that a hidden lake called Atagahi is actually part of Cherokee oral traditions, but again the sources may not be trustworthy (see list of questions below). Maybe the names and stories are what Beatty asked the three Eastern Band sources about.

How might Cherokee kids feel about the way Cherokees are represented in Willa of the Wood? Is it a mirror that reflects their lives or identities in some way?

As a non-Cherokee, I saw overall positive images of Cherokee people but didn't come away with a greater understanding about Cherokee life, history, or language. If anything, I have Questions. Such as:

• Does Beatty use the concept of "clan" correctly re: Cherokee society? Maybe not, if I'm understanding info about clans on the Cherokee Nation website. 
• There's a troubling passage where Nathaniel tells Willa that his wife "was a respected member of the Paint clan, the great-great-granddaughter of a famous chief.” While it's probably fine for a white man to know his Cherokee wife's clan, why is it necessary to have her descended from "a famous chief"? Echoes of "My great-grandmother was a Cherokee princess".... 
• Is there an unimpeachable source for the story of Atagahi? What I found online is all questionable, including a book written by Shirley G. Webb who, according to the back matter on the book, is "of Cherokee heritage." But at least one of her stories has a character named Nokomis, which I'm pretty sure is an Ojibwe name, so that put the authenticity in doubt.
• And I wonder if the Cherokee boy with the mountain lion scent will show up later in the series as a shape-shifter of some kind. Shape-shifting Indigenous people seem to be really popular in fiction/fantasy by non-Native writers.

I checked to see what all those Goodreads/Amazon reviewers made of the Cherokee "presence" in the story. But surprisingly few reviewers even used the word Cherokee. One mentioned liking to hearing the names they knew, like Cherokee and Clingman's Dome. Another said that Willa is supposed to be a Cherokee night spirit. And another commented that they aren't sure if Beatty's references to Cherokees are respectful or accurate, though part of the story was based on Cherokee stories. Evidently, the Cherokee content didn't make a big impression on most of the book's early fans.

So overall, the Cherokee presence in Willa seems too generalized to provide a clear window into Cherokee lives of that time period. In fact, it barely makes an impression on a fair number of early reviewers. So, why are they there?

I'm not sure.

What might a fantasy story like Willa of the Wood gain from having Cherokee characters? Maybe a touch of historical authenticity; Cherokee people were certainly present in that part of the continent during the early 1900s. Maybe some help with the magical world-building and set-ups for future plots: Atagahi seems likely to play a role in what happens later in the series, as do the three children and that Cherokee boy who might be a something else. The Cherokee content feels like a device, or set of devices, rather than an occasion for truly representing Native people. That may become clearer with later books in the series.

I don't recommend Willa of the Wood -- because of its puzzling references to Cherokee people and its lack of transparency regarding some of the names and stories attributed to the Cherokee. If you're Cherokee citizen and have read this book, we'd like to hear your thoughts on its Cherokee content. Please comment!

--Jean Mendoza

American Indian Library Association's Statement Against Racism and Harassment

During and after the 2019 ALA Midwinter meeting in Seattle, several people shared negative experiences of harassment that took place at the Midwinter meeting. Most widely shared was April Hathcock's account (shared at her blog on January 30, 2019) of a meeting of ALA's Council Forum.

In response to the reports, the American Indian Library Association released this statement on Feb. 1, 2019:

The American Indian Library Association stands with the individuals who experienced racism and discrimination at the 2019 ALA Midwinter Meeting & Exhibits in Seattle, WA. We stand with those who preserve and celebrate all cultures. Racism and discrimination dishonor every culture.

As an ethnic affiliate of the American Library Association (ALA), AILA is a membership action group that addresses the library-related needs of American Indians and Alaska Natives. AILA is committed to promoting true representations of American Indian cultures, languages, and values. As AILA reaches its 40th anniversary, we strongly support librarians of color. We urge the American Library Association to address racism and discrimination in the profession at the institutional level and at all professional development meetings. 

The American Indian Library Association joins our fellow ethnic affiliates, APALA, BCALA, CALA, and REFORMA, and offers our support to the American Library Association in order to realize ALA's future. AILA appreciates the work of Jody Gray, Director of the Office for Diversity, Literacy & Outreach Services for American Library Association and is committed to working with ALA to address racism, bias, and discrimination in our communities.

I support AILA's statement, April Hathcock, and those who have spoken up about their experiences. Efforts by some to cast those of us who speak up as "uncivil" or "unprofessional" are disingenuous. That same charge has been leveled at me (Debbie), as well. After being named to give the prestigious Arbuthnot lecture, people wrote letters to say I am unprofessional and undeserving of the honor. I will, however, give that lecture in April.

On January 31, issued a statement about Midwinter:

The ALA Executive Board has released the following statement regarding a recent incident during Council Forum at the ALA Midwinter Meeting & Exhibits in Seattle.

"We should not – and do not – accept harassment, bullying or discrimination of any kind in our profession or the work of our Association. These behaviors go against our values. Violations to our code of conduct will not be tolerated.   

"We established a code of conduct because we take the responsibility of being respectful to each other very seriously. 

"We send our sincere apologies to Councilor April Hathcock for what she went through at Council Forum, which is unacceptable and doesn’t align with our core values.  

"The ALA attorney and President-Elect met with April Hathcock in the Council meeting room shortly before Council III to share some nonpublic information about events after the incident in question. ALA leaders deeply regrets any distress this caused; it was not intent of the attorney or ALA to threaten Ms Hathcock in any way.      

"The Councilor who instigated the incident has resigned and the Executive Board has accepted his resignation. 

"We also offer our sincere apologies to members who also experienced violations of the code of conduct at the Midwinter meeting. 

"We want to recognize that this incident has caused a lot of hurt and we are working diligently to ensure that at all ALA events participants are - and feel - respected.   

"The Executive Board will form a working group to look at Council Forum and ways to make it a safer space up to its continued viability. 

"We will review the current code of conduct complaint process to make it stronger and more effective. 

"We will work on facilitated racial equity training for Annual Conference during Council 1; that training and the code of conduct will be built into Council Orientation moving forward. 

"In collaboration with the Office for Diversity, Literacy and Outreach Services, we will coordinate online and in-person resources on equity, diversity and inclusion for all members and for ALA staff members. 

"ALA and its Divisions have developed resources to embed principles of equity, diversity and inclusion in the work library workers do; see specifics for 2018 here. Last October during the 2018 Fall Executive Board Meeting, the Executive Board voted to affirm that ALA will apply a social justice framework to the ALA Strategic Directions for the next three-to-five years in the areas of Advocacy, Information Policy, Professional and Leadership Development, and Equity, Diversity and Inclusion. We are building on the 2019 President’s Program about “White Fragility.”  

"This work can be messy, it takes time, but the Executive Board strives to create a better association every day. We ask for your collaboration to help us break through the systems of oppression and do the right thing at the right time, each time, as it should be done."

My own thoughts are that the US is in an intense period of change. Those who characterize our work as "unprofessional" are, perhaps, defending their position and power as our voices and collective actions push at their power and influence. Many are using their power and influence to keep the status quo in place. We're pushing and will continue to push for equity and justice, in the many places we do that work. 

Recommended: YOUNG WATER PROTECTORS: A STORY ABOUT STANDING ROCK by Aslan and Kelly Tudor

Aslan and Kelly Tudor's Young Water Protectors: A Story About Standing Rock is a non-fiction photo-essay published by EagleSpeaker Publishing.

The "about" page tells us that the author, Aslan Tudor, was eight and nine years old during the period depicted in the book, and a citizen of the Lipan Apache Tribe of Texas. Information provided is his first-hand account of time spent at the camps when he was there in 2016.

Told from the point of view of a child, 

Young Water Protectors is a rare kind of story 

of a unique period of activism 

with Native people from so many nations 

standing together to fight a company

exploiting people and hurting earth's resources. 

There's a lot to think about, packed into this slim book. Tudor touches on the school at the camp, and what he learned there but he also notes that activity at some of the construction sites wasn't safe. It was safer for kids to stay in camp. For readers who want more information about that, adults can fill in the gaps according to what they know about the reader.

Debbie--have you seen CODE WORD COURAGE by Kirby Larson?

A reader wrote to ask about Kirby Larson's Code Word Courage. Due out in 2018 from Scholastic, it is part of Larson's "Dogs of World War II" series. 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?

Kirby Larson is not Native. One of the characters in her book, Denny, is Navajo. With Code Word Courage she's creating words and thoughts of someone who is very different from who she is. Denny isn't a minor character. Code Word Courage is one of those books where the story is told in alternating chapters. Chapter one, for example, is Billie, and chapter two is Denny, then back to Billie for chapter three, and Denny for chapter four. Significant research has to be done in order for Denny's character to be an accurate depiction of a Navajo person of that time period. 

From what I can see via the preview at Google books, I'm having doubts about it.

In chapter thirteen, Denny is with eighteen Navajo radiomen. They're all Marines, and they've got to prove to General Vandergrift that their code is useful. "Can we provide it?" a sergeant asks. They reply, "Sir, yes, sir." Denny wonders if any of them feel like they're back in their boarding school. 

"He'd been a kid when he'd been taken from his mother and put with people who could see only skin color, nothing more." 

Skin color is not why Native children were taken from their homes and put in boarding schools. They were taken there as a way to destroy their identity as Native people of specific Native nations. The schools were designed to 'kill the Indian and save the man.' Skin color is not why kids ended up there. The government goal was to destroy Native identity and thereby, Native Nations.  

Elsewhere, Denny is talking with Tito, a Mexican kid who wants to become an astronomer. He shows Denny a book that has an illustration of Cassiopeia's Chair. Pointing to the North Star, Denny tells Tito: 

"In Navajo, we call that star Northern Fire."

That doesn't quite make sense. As written, it suggests he is going to tell Tito the Navajo word for that star. Instead, he tells him the English translation of the Navajo word(s) for that star. 

There are 34 chapters in Code Word Courage. Most of them alternate from Billie to Denny. If I get a copy of the book, I'll be back with a more complete review.