Part II --- Neil Gaiman on "a few dead Indians"

On October 8th, ithiliana did a close read of Neil Gaiman's "Blog on a Train" blog post. His post is the one in which he addressed the "few dead Indians" remark he made in 2008 that I wrote about in April of 2010. I'm writing, here, about ithiliana's analysis because I like what she says on her LiveJournal. I read her work when I can. She is, as a dear friend said, hardcore. That friend and myself like hardcore writing. 

In her analysis, Ithiliana made some good points. For one, she notes that his apology is part of a much longer post. As such, she sees his apology as being buried. He could have featured that response as a stand-alone item. She's right. In fact, I would have preferred that Gaiman wrote a stand-alone post.

Ithiliana wrote:

Lots of linguistic scholarship exists on how badly people with greater authority/power do apologies to people who have less authority/power, but I think Gaiman's fauxpology goes even further into bad, considering he's blah blah award winning author. Or maybe, from another perspective, it's a well done manipulation that is designed to highlight his power and authority while "graciously" offering apologies (without ever once saying, I'm sorry, I screwed up) to the little people out there (multiple ones, by the way, as you'll see if you read the link of my snarky summary).

As I wrote my post yesterday (Neil Gaiman on "a few dead Indians"), I went back and forth with myself as I thought about what Gaiman said. He offered an apology. A Miss-Manners-type-person would say I should accept his apology. 

But, I didn't want an apology.

There a lot to gain by reading and studying what ithiliana said. She is taking a certain angle on what Gaiman said. My angle is different.

I wasn't hurt by what he said, and I wasn't offended either. I can't afford the energy it would take to be offended everytime I come across something like "a few dead Indians." Part of what I'm doing with American Indians in Children's Literature is compiling the evidence of just how much this happens. I focus on these occurrences in children's and young adult books (see for example, my analysis of the Elizabeth Bird's Top 100 Children's Novels), but sometimes, I point to other incidences, too, which provide societal context for what occurs in children's books (see my post about a kid playing Indian in a Tommy Hilfiger ad).

The "few dead Indians" situation, in my view, called---not for an apology---but for something else.

What Neil Gaiman says is a big deal because of who he is... An award-winning and best-selling author who has, because of his books for children and adults, become a celebrity. Does who he is, I wondered, make him a person with greater authority and power as compared to me? Does his status make me someone with less authority/power, and therefore, should I be grateful that he paid any attention at all to my post about "a few dead Indians" and his subsequent Tweets to me about it?

Some would say "yes, Debbie, you should be grateful that Neil Gaiman paid any attention to you!"

I disagree because I have some power and authority, too, based on my research and writing and my advocacy for Native peoples. How any of us defines power and authority is relative to where we stand, the perspectives we put forth, and the people who pay attention to what we say. Did he choose to comment on my "few dead Indians" post because someone (his agent, perhaps?) told him that children's book authors, parents, teachers, librarians, professors, editors, and reviewers read my site?

Were his actions motivated by a sincere interest to acknowledge that he screwed up? Or were they motivated by an attempt to maintain a positive profile? Or both? Or, neither?!

Whatever the case may be, one thing is certain. A lot more people in the world now know that a remark like "a few dead Indians" merits attention. I didn't want an apology (yeah, I know, that's starting to sound redundant), but in truth, I wanted more than what Gaiman offered. I thanked him yesterday, not for the apology, but for being willing to publicly share his reaction and thought process. That is important! He wrote:

I was put out of sorts by Deb's initial post (mostly because I was reading it going "but that OBVIOUSLY wasn't what I meant"), and was idiotically grumpy on Twitter, but when I was called on it (by Pam Noles), and finally looked at the actual words recorded, I realised that people were perfectly sensibly taking what I said to indicate... 

He provides an example that other writers could use. First reactions from Sharon Creech, Ben Mikaelsen, Ann Rinaldi, and Anne Rockwell to my critiques of their words and books were like Gaiman's. They were defensive, too. Have they revisited that defensive reaction? Privately, perhaps, but to my knowledge, not publicly, as Gaiman did. His reaction aside, he gave his readers three options as to how his remark might be read. Continuing with what I excerpted above, he wrote:

... that I thought that a) the US was pretty much unpopulated before the arrival of the white colonists in the 17th century, and/or that b) I was being dismissive of the slaughter of Native Americans, or simply that c) Native Americans were somehow inconsequential in the history of the Americas. (None of which was my intention. But intentions only take you so far.)

As I said when I first wrote about his remark, I was pretty sure he knew better, and I think what he said above is evidence of that. He's told us what he thinks and he acknowledges that intent matters little.

I would have liked him to go further than he did. I would have liked him to say "I should have corrected myself right away. I should have said something when the interview was published. But, I didn't." He tells us that he knew it was a stupid thing to say, but that he just moved on. His decision to just move on is important for him and all of us to consider. WHY did he just move on? Did he think nobody would notice? Well, he was right, wasn't he? Nobody noticed for over a year! How many times was that interview read? How many people read it and didn't notice that he said "a few dead Indians"?!

That is the problem. Hundreds (thousands? millions?) of times, those words were read, and nobody pointed them out. What I wanted from Neil Gaiman was for him to say this:

PEOPLE OF THE WORLD WHO READ THAT INTERVIEW AND MY WORDS!!!

WE ALL SCREWED UP!

WHY DIDN'T WE SAY SOMETHING?

DON'T WE CARE?

ARE WE TOO BUSY TO TAKE A MOMENT TO SAY SOMETHING?

IF WE ARE TOO BUSY, DOESN'T THAT MEAN THAT WE'VE CHOSEN NOT TO INTERRUPT A CYCLE OF UNINTENDED WORD-VIOLENCE ON A GROUP OF PEOPLE WHO MANY OF US SAY WE RESPECT, LOVE, ADMIRE AND HONOR?

A GROUP OF PEOPLE WHOSE CHILDREN DON'T SUCCEED IN SCHOOL?

A GROUP OF PEOPLE WHOSE CHILDREN COMMIT SUICIDE WAY TOO OFTEN?

See what I wanted from Neil Gaiman? Due to his status, he is a person of influence. I wanted him to use that influence and that incident in a much larger way than he did. If he did, his words would be a powerful force that would work towards a decrease in the messed-up ways that American Indians and Indigenous peoples are portrayed in children's and young adult books, and in society (like the Hilfiger ad), too.

Can you imagine what the book publishing world would do if his million-plus fans (assuming he said what I suggested above) wrote to, say, HarperCollins, the publisher of Little House on the Prairie (feedback2@harpercollins.com) to say

"this book is messed up. Yeah, some regard it as a classic, but, it misrepresents and miseducates Native and non-Native children about the life of Native and non-Native people living in Indian Territory in the 1800s."

Can you imagine a scenario in which Native parents didn't have to think about keeping their children out of school on the day their teachers plan a Thanksgiving reenactment? Or, when their classmates were going to do a "land run" like the one that took place in Oklahoma? If you pause for just a minute, can you imagine how much of that sort of thing goes on?

With this post, am I alienating Neil Gaiman and his fans and anyone who read his apology and think well of him for offering it? Maybe, but I'm choosing to think that amongst that group of people there are a great many who will read what I've said and be motivated to think even further about the ways American Indians are represented in the books their children read, and, that seeing it for themselves, they'll be motivated to take action.

A thoughtful response from Laurie Halse Anderson

Over on Condensery, blogger Kate Slater posted an essay about Laurie Halse Anderson's Chains. Slater started by noting "hurtful or reductive representations" of American Indians in Caddie Woodlawn, and then she moves on to talk about Chains. She says Anderson engages with marginalization, oppression, and violence in a rich (not reductive) way, and Slater notes some anachronisms in the book that she found jarring.

Anderson replied, asking Slater about the anachronisms, because, she said "If I made any mistakes, I would like to correct them."

That sentence leaped out at me! How many other authors are willing to say that?!

Slater replied to Anderson, and Anderson responded again. It is a terrific thread. Click on over to read "Rememory and Laurie Halse Anderson's Chains". That sort of engagement is what I wish I could have with authors who, in some way, include American Indians in their books for children and young adults. Course, it isn't possible with those who are no longer living (such as Wilder or Brink) but what about Rinaldi?

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Further reading, see:

Reflections on CADDIE WOODLAWN: Teaching about Stereotypes using Literature

Illustrations of the "scalp belt" in CADDIE WOODLAWN

The "scalp belt" in CADDIE WOODLAWN

Ann Rinaldi's LEIGH ANN'S CIVIL WAR

Last week I made some preliminary notes about Ann Rinaldi’s Leigh Ann’s Civil War. I’ve finished reading the book and am sharing some thoughts.

The protagonist is Leigh Ann, a girl living in Georgia on a plantation. She is the youngest of four children. Her sister is named Viola and she has two older brothers, Teddy, and Louis. They all live with their father (Pa) who is going mad.

I think the reviewer at Kirkus (their reviews are unsigned) is dead-on:

“Veteran Rinaldi spins a tale that combines low melodrama, cringeworthy faux-Indian mysticism, a back story only the author could possibly understand, a saccharine depiction of slavery, two pregnancies of convenience and only a passing regard for historical accuracy for a nearly 300 page slog that seems to have enjoyed zero editorial intervention.”

As I slogged through the 300 pages, I thought Rinaldi's Leigh Ann is a lot like Scarlett O'Hara. Young, pretty, bratty. Some of the content surprised me. Jon, for example, and what he does to Leigh Ann. He is a man Teddy and Louis hire to look after Pa while they're away. Viola doesn't trust him. On page 82, the text reads: 

My sister had confided to me that she thought Jon wanted to "take liberties" with her, and told me never to be alone with him. "And if he starts anything with you, scream, kick him, bite him."

Apparently, Viola makes Leigh Ann promise that she will not tell Teddy about Jon's advances, because on page 91, Leigh Ann considers telling Teddy but, remembering her promise, she does not tell him. In chapter thirteeen, Leigh Ann is collecting clothes for the children who work at the mill. Teddy asks Jon to drive her. She objects, he wonders why, she drops her objection, and keeps her promise to Viola. Then as she's getting out of the carriage, Jon:

...put his hand on my bottom. I stomped on his foot.

"Ow! You little witch!"

"Don't you dare touch me! Ever!"

"Or you'll what? Tell your big brother?"

This dialogue continues with Jon telling Leigh Ann that if she tells him, he would kill Teddy in the likely duel, and that he'd killed someone that way before. So, Leigh Ann keeps quiet.

On page 113 (in chapter fifteen), Louis asks Leigh Ann why she does not want Jon to drive her somewhere. The text reads:

I couldn’t lie to Louis. With his Indian powers he saw through lies.

“He touched me.”

“Where?”

I blushed. “On my bottom.”

She goes on to tell Louis that Jon said he'd kill Teddy in a duel. Louis says only gentlemen duel, and that Jon is not a gentleman. Louis then takes him out to the barn and whips him. 

This child molestation thread stood out to me. So far, none of the reviews (professionals, bloggers, or customers at Amazon) have noted it. Another thread that caught my eye has to do with Leigh Ann's behavior towards boys. Teddy talks with Leigh Ann about proper ways for a young girl to behave around a boy she likes…  Twelve-year-old Leigh Ann meets a 16 year old boy and kisses him on the cheek. Teddy is angry with her for doing that. She doesn’t understand what is wrong with kissing a boy on the cheek. Teddy tells her (p. 135):

“About boys and how they become aroused. I got embarrassed, but he didn’t care. “That kiss was a sign,” he said. “It is not fair to give such encouragement to a boy unless you are willing to carry through with it. Do you know what I mean by ‘carry through with it’?”

Oh, sweet God in heaven, will he never stop?

He sighed. “It means to let him go further,” he said. “Much further. And touch you in other ways.”

Please don’t let him tell me the ways!

“Now, a young man of honor cannot act upon his impulses, but once aroused must suffer instead. And when a girl acts like that she is known as a ‘tease’ and there is nothing worse to be known as among boys than a tease.’”

Again, none of that is mentioned in reviews I've seen. But, back to the way that Rinaldi brings Native content into her story... 

In chapter one, Pa, referencing the Yankees, says (p. 16):

“They want the Southern lands,” he shouted. “First the Indians wanted it and now the Northerners. I’d rather give it all back to the Indians, though they didn’t have the courage to fight for it but let the white man take it from them!”

These words make Louis angry and he comes storming down the stairs. Leigh Ann bursts into tears. Pa pulls her onto his lap at the bottom of the stairs and says (p. 17):

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about Louis,” he soothed. “He acts like that because he’s part Indian.”

I just started up at Pa’s face. Was this part of his “madness” coming on?

“He most positively is,” he assured me. “Can’t you see his dark hair? And eyes? And how he’d rather ride with no saddle? And his high cheekbones? And how good he is working with silver?”

I saw only one thing. That if Louis was part Indian, he was not my brother. Mother’s hair was fair. Pa’s was white. Violet’s and mine was light brown and sun-streaked. Teddy’s hair was the same as ours.

Leigh Ann runs outside and hides under some trees, crying. Louis finds her there, and that closes chapter one. Chapter two opens with Louis saying (p. 18):

“Come on Leigh Ann, before I come over there and scalp you.”

They bicker back and forth, and then he says (p. 19)

“You’ve been told by Pa that I’m an Indian. Am I correct?” […] “And you’ve been shocked and hurt and you likely have come to the ugly conclusion that I’m not your brother. Am I right, sweetie?”

I looked at him. “What did you study at college? Hoodoo?”

Louis laughed and replied:

“I have the gift of hoodoo because I am half Indian. Do you want to know about it?”

The hoodoo thread is odd. I did not know what hoodoo was, so I looked it up. It is African American healing/folk medicine. I read Zora Hurston's "Hoodoo in America" published in October-December, 1931 in The Journal of American Folk-Lore.  Is Rinaldi confusing African American traditions with American Indian ones?

At the stream, Louis has a box with him. Leigh Ann asks what is in it. Louis tells her its contents are a secret that he will reveal shortly. The two walk towards the stream. Across the way, Leigh Ann sees two deer. She feels a sense of peace like she’s never felt before. Louis says (p. 20):

“Pa is a full-blooded Indian,” he said quietly. […] “A Cherokee,” he elaborated, just in case I needed to know.

He goes on (p. 21):

“It’ll take time,” he said, “for it to sink in. But not long. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

My first thought was, Do I look Indian? My hand flew to my face.

“No, you don’t,” Louis said, reading my thoughts. “You don’t look Indian at all.”

He tells her (p. 22):

“You should know that the Cherokees were the first American Indians to have an alphabet and written language. One of their chiefs, Sequoyah, was a talented silversmith. They had the first American Indian newspaper. They tried to get along with the white people. They had their own shops and businesses.”

“Where does Pa come in?”

“He was one of the Cherokees who was living with the white men. He worked for one named Hunter Conners, who had no children and who gave him a fine piece of land and, in the end, his name. Then gold was discovered and hundreds of settlers came and the government took the land back from the Cherokees.”

In chapter three, Louis opens the box. Inside are silver necklaces, bracelets, rings, and armbands. He gives Leigh Ann a medallion on a silver cord. On the medallion is a profile of  Sequoyah. Leigh Ann asks him if she can wear it in front of others, and he says (p. 27):

“I’d like to see anybody try to take it away from you. I’ve got these special Indian powers, remember. I can do some bad things with smoke and prayers.”

Rinaldi makes Louis more Indian than Teddy, Viola, or Leigh Ann. He looks different, and, he has powers. That is just, well, hokey. Or, as the Kirkus reviewer said "cringeworthy faux-Indian." He does "bad things" with smoke and prayers. This does not make sense at all!

In chapter four, Leigh Ann goes back to the house and talks with Teddy who tells her

“Look,” he said, “just because we’re half Indian, you’re not to confuse us with wild Indians out west. Even Pa’s generation removed themselves from that culture.”

Then, moving all the way up to chapter sixteen, Louis, now Mayor of Roswell, wants to rejoin the Confederate Army, but his ankle (it was shot while he was in the army earlier in the story) did not heal well, and he is persuaded not to go back. He is unhappy, though, and takes to spending a lot of time alone. One night, Leigh Ann and Teddy (who is now running the mill) look for him. They find him by the stream (page 126).

He had built a small fire. Four long logs jutted out on each side and in the middle of these were smaller pieces of wood. Cooking in the center were pieces of venison. A great deal of smoke curled up overhead.

His only clothing was a leather breechclout to cover his private parts. His legs, folded under him, were bare, as was his chest. Around his neck he wore a large silver medallion. He huddled in an old gray blanket. His hair was wet, as if he had just come out of the stream. He was moving his lips, praying.

And on his shoulder was a hooty owl. It stared at us out of yellow-green eyes. But it never moved.

I became frightened and moved closer to Teddy, who put a protective arm around my shoulder and said, “Don’t be afraid.”

But I was. This was my beloved Louis, my darling brother, whom I looked up to so. Had he gone mad? I looked up at Teddy.

“Eh, Louis,” he said, “you going to include us in your prayers?”

Louis nodded yes. He had heard.

“Look at that,” Teddy told me. “There’s wind around us. But none around him.”

It was true. The bitter February wind that whipped around us stopped in the line bounding Louis. My mouth fell open. Teddy grinned down at me.

“Damn, that venison smells good,” he said.

That Teddy was taking this all so lightly made me feel better.

“Is he going to stay here all night?” I asked.

“He better not. Or I’ll have Primus fetch him in. Well, good night now, brother. I’ve got to get to the mill. Can I trust you to tell the Indian powers good night and come in soon to see to the safety of our women?”

Louis looked at us placidly, first at Teddy, then at me. “Go in peace,” he said. It was in his regular Louis voice.

We turned and left. I felt a sense of peace come over me, as if everything was going to be all right and I would never have to worry again.

By the time chapter 22 rolls around, the war is not going well for the south. Louis is sending the women to a grandmother in Philadelphia. His wife, Camille, asks him if he wants her to go (p. 157).

“Everyone was silent for a moment.

Louis’s face had about it that Indian mask that you could not read. It was a long enough moment for him to contact his inner spirit.”

Contact his inner spirit?! No comment. Things continue to go downhill. Leigh Ann begins working as a bummer for the Yankees. She must search for food. On page 241:

I stopped to fill my canteen and in the distance saw what appeared to be a peach orchard. Beyond that I could have sworn I saw wigwams.

I stood up to better focus my vision. I was right! Just on the other side of the peach orchard were at least six wigwams that seemed to be built out of bark and evergreen boughs.”

She goes towards them. She’s surprised because she thought Indians had been driven out “ages ago.” She wonders if she’s dreaming, wonders if Louis had guided her there, She enters the camp:

The women looked up as I approached and smiled. And what I had feared, that they would be afraid of my rifle, did not happen.

Though they were all busy, either sewing beads on moccasins or ornamenting deerskin pouches or frying bacon, they looked up and smiled as I approached. They nodded their heads.

“You’ve come at last,” one said.

At last? Had they been waiting for me? Known of me?

“Yes,” I said. “I suppose I lost my way. But now I have found you. Have you been waiting for me a long time?”

“Long enough,” another said. “We were told by the owl that a little girl of our people would soon come and she would be in trouble and we were to help her. From where do you come, little one?”

So they knew I was a girl, in spite of my boys’ clothes. “Roswell,” I said.

They nodded to one another. They said something in Indian language. What language. Cherokee? Oh, why had I never asked Louis to teach me Cherokee?

And then, in the middle of the Indian language I caught his name. Louis.

So I was right. He had guided me here. They knew of him.

“Do you travel with the Yankees?” the one who was beading the moccasins asked me.

I told them yes, I traveled with the Yankees. I was being sent to Marietta with the other women who had been arrested.

“Well you are not to worry,” the one who was frying bacon said. “Your Father in heaven will protect you. And the two who travel with you. Last evening we saw it in the smoke of our fire. Now, how can we help you today?”

Your father in heaven?! What about Louis and his powers with smoke and prayer?! Leigh Ann tells the women that Mulholland has sent her to look for a turkey. They laughed and told her “Mulholland Bad Face” knows there are no turkeys and that he intends to whip her for not finding a turkey. The women tell her:

But we tell you now, that if you go to the other side of the bridge that goes over the stream that is pure, you will see one standing there and waiting for you. Shoot him. Then kneel over him and tell him you are sorry. And thank him for his life. And bring him back to Mulholland Bad Face.”

Leigh Ann embraces each one of the women. They “said some Indian prayers" over her. They give her a cake from the ashes. She leaves the camp, looks back, but they entire camp is gone. She still has the cake in her hand. She walked to the bridge and found the turkey. She shoots it and kneels, as she was told to do, and thanks the turkey for its life.Leigh Ann returns to the army camp and gives “Mulholland Bad Face” (her words, not mine) the turkey. He takes her into the forest, and tells her there have been no turkeys there for two years. He thinks she’s lying to him, so starts to whip her. Then out of nowhere came an owl---Louis’s owl. (What about her Father in heaven?!) It attacks Mulholland. Leigh Ann calls to it “It’s all right, Owl, it’s all right now. He won’t hurt me anymore. Thank you, thank you. It’s all right now.” The owl stops its attack and then goes to her, resting on her shoulder. Mulholland thinks she’s crazy, talking to birds.

I'm tempted to say that Rinaldi is crazy. Her editor must be equally crazy. How did this novel get published?! The Native-related content makes no sense.  Most children and young adults know very little about the Cherokees, and this novel doesn't help. What makes it more troubling for me is the blurbs on the back of the book. Titled "Praise for Ann Rinaldi's Historical Fiction, the blurb at top is from Kirkus. It reads:

"Readers will not soon forget these characters, whose actions and passions illuminate and enliven a historical era about which they may have heard much, but understood little. Vivid in the best sense of the word."

I've read the entire Kirkus review for Leigh Ann's Civil War, and those words do not appear in that review. In fact, the reviewer's last two sentences are:

Dialogue is breathtakingly wooden, character development arbitrary, sentiment sodden. A mess.

What book does the blurb on the back of the book refer to??? What are the people over at Harcourt trying to do? Isn't this false advertising? I haven't seen the Booklist review yet, but, the blurb says:

"Rinaldi's books are always impeccably researched, vividly detailed, and filled with very human characters; they are also about something that matters."

As the extensive review of Rinaldi's My Heart is on the Ground demonstrated, her books are not always impeccably researched. Why then, does Harcourt have that particular blurb on the back of the book? And, when did Booklist say that about Rinaldi's work?

My study (thus far) of this book is intriguing and raises many questions. Years ago, Rinaldi told me she'd never write a book about American Indians again. She obviously changed her mind, and, that change-of-mind was a mistake.

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UPDATE: Tuesday, Oct 20th.
In this "impeccably researched" book, here's more of what the Kirkus reviewer had to say...

The painful trials endured by Southern civilians are given only perfunctory mention; the loving negroes (not called slaves) stay with the family even after the brother graciously frees them after the end of the war, in blatant narrative disregard of the Emancipation Proclamation.

The book is in the "Great Episodes" series. Wondering what that means...

Trying to catch up! Watching: Richard Peck, Ann Rinaldi, and John Smelcer

Lot of action of late...

My last post was about Richard Peck's new book A Season of Gifts. I've got more to say, but not sufficient time yet to say it. Conversation took place on School Library Journal, where reviewer Jonathan Hunt asked me some pointed questions.

He posed those questions while I was home, at Nambe, for the Elk Dance. Time home on our reservation, in our kiva, with family, is always affirming. Two of my nephews were dancing (remember---Pueblo dance is like  prayer-in-motion as opposed to dance-for-fun-or-entertainment).

When I got back to the University of Illinois where I teach, I had a lot of catching up to do that included prep for courses I am teaching this semester (Intro to American Indian Studies, and, Politics of Children's Literature). In the latter, we read and discussed some of Clare Bradford's Unsettling Narratives

I had an email, too, from a reader who asked if I'd read Ann Rinaldi's new book, Leigh Ann's Civil War. In that book, the protagonist learns that her father was Cherokee. That surprised me because, several years ago, Rinaldi told me she would not write another book about American Indians. Her response was due to the review of her book in the Dear America series, in which her character is a student at Carlisle Indian Industrial School.  Published in several educational and social justice publications, the most complete review of that book is at the Oyate site. Go here to read it. And, do read the accompanying essay "Literary License or Muted Plagiarism." I've ordered Leigh Ann's Civil War. Rinaldi's author note is available at the Amazon site. It reads, in part:

In researching this story, what led me to write it was that this same land, before King came along, once belonged to the Cherokee Indians, the most intellectually advanced tribe at the time, who had an alphabet, a newspaper, established schools, and written laws. Indeed, this was the place where the famous and tragic Trail of Tears began, when the white men, motivated by the discovery of gold on this very land, drove the Cherokee out of their six-thousand-acre area.

Reading that note, one thing that leaped out was "the most intellectual advanced tribe at that time." As the title says, her book is a Civil War story.  I don't want to take anything away from the Cherokees, but I do think Rinaldi is in err calling them "the most intellectual advanced." Early in the book she refers to "hoodoo" --- a sort of Cherokee mysticism, it looks like, but I don't know WHAT that could possibly be.

The third item on my plate is John Smelcer's new young adult novel, The Great Death. It got a starred review in Horn Book. Obviously some find him a gifted writer, but, for me, his claims to Native identity are deeply troubling, as I've written here.

So! Lot of work ahead of me. Reading, writing, thinking.

Patricia Wrede on THIRTEENTH CHILD

A few weeks ago, I pointed readers to Internet discussions of Patricia Wrede's book, Thirteenth Child. Miriam at the Lower Elwha Klallam Tribal Library submitted this comment:

It's really damning that it didn't occur to her that it at least needed explaining within the context of the world she built-- it's as if Natives were already invisible to her, and she swept them out of her alternate world without noticing what she had done, so she never felt she had to account for it. But kids aren't dumb; lots of readers, not just Natives, will be wondering, "but where are the native people in the New World in this alternate history?"

Over at dreamwidth on LiveJournal (so grateful to you, spiralsheep!), I found this excerpt and its link.

Wrede said:

The *plan* is for it to be a "settling the frontier" book, only without Indians (because I really hate both the older Indians-as-savages viewpoint that was common in that sort of book, *and* the modern Indians-as-gentle-ecologists viewpoint that seems to be so popular lately, and this seems the best way of eliminating the problem, plus it'll let me play with all sorts of cool megafauna). I'm not looking for wildly divergent history, because if it goes too far afield I won't get the right feel.

I agree with her on the 'hate' of what she calls "viewpoints." I don't think of them as viewpoints, though. Framing them as viewpoints legitimates them in a way they do not deserve. They are, in short, stereotypes. The bad and the good Indian, the bloodthirsty and the holier-than-thou. And forgive this bit of snarkyness: EARTH TO WREDE. YOU SAID WAS COMMON, SUGGESTING THAT THE 'INDIANS-AS-SAVAGES' PORTRAYAL DOESN'T HAPPEN ANYMORE. WRONG. IT IS STILL THERE.

Where she falls off the cliff, though, is when she says "without Indians." Beneath her words is an assumption about her audience: who it is, what they will buy, what they will revere, what they will notice... or not. It is pretty interesting for me to think about, especially because, as her bio on the Amazon website says, she lives in Minnesota! Lots of reservations there, and lots of Ojibwe's and Dakotas. Are they invisible to Wrede?!

The product description at Amazon says

"With wit and wonder, Patricia Wrede creates an alternative history of westward expansion that will delight fans of both J. K. Rowling and Laura Ingalls Wilder."

Wilder? Bingo! Elizabeth Bird at SLJ blogged the book, too. Read her review, and the comments. I am glad that the book is being discussed. I am confident that some writers will read everything being written about it, and be mindful of what they do with their own books. Course, there will be those who dig in their heels, too, and go along their Merry Manifest Destiny Way.

I wonder what Wrede will do with the discussion. The book is the FIRST in a series she's launched. I wonder what her editor is thinking, too. Controversy. Some writers (like Ann Rinaldi) say (with glee, it seems) that the controversy over a book makes it sell better. Likely so, but, Rinaldi didn't write any more books about American Indians after that, so, controversy also has a plus side for those of us who are tired of books like Thirteenth Child.

SLJ Article: "Straight Talk on Race" by Mitali Perkins

April 1, 2009. A new issue of School Library Journal is up. It includes "Straight Talk on Race," by Mitali Perkins.

There's much to think about (and respond to) in her article. For now, I point you to this portion of the article, where Mitali discusses her novel, The Sunita Experiment.

After the novel was published, a reviewer chastised me for the “unnecessary exoticization” of my protagonist. Here’s how I ended the story, with Sunita championing her South Asian heritage by trying on a saree and modeling it for the guy she likes:

“You look… just like I thought you would, Sunni,” he whispers when she reaches him. “Are you sure you’re still Sunita Sen and not some exotic Indian princess coming to cast a spell on me?”

“I’m sure, Michael,” she tells him, giving him one of her trademark smiles just to prove it.

I fumed, but, dang it, the reviewer was right. Exotic Indian princess? What was I thinking? Enduring a twinge of shame, I moved on and tried to learn from my mistake.

When my publisher decided to reissue the book in 2005, I was asked if I wanted to make any changes. “Yes!” I shouted, pumping my fist.

Here’s how the book, renamed The Not-So-Star-Spangled Life of Sunita Sen, ends now:

“You look… just like I thought you would, Sunni,” he whispers when she reaches him. “Are you sure you’re still the same Sunita Sen? The California girl?”

“I’m sure, Michael,” she tells him, giving him one of her trademark smiles just to prove it.

Thank goodness for second chances.

Mitali's self-disclosure is important. And rare. For her disclosure, I am grateful. I can point to it as an example of an author accepting and incorporating criticism, using that criticism to grow. To make the book better. To give the reader something better than was there before.

Years ago when Ann Rinaldi's My Heart is On the Ground came out, I approached her at an NCTE conference, introduced myself, and started talking. I wanted her to revisit that book, rethink it, maybe even rewrite it. I wanted her to join me in a conference panel where we could talk about mistakes and growth. I imagined how much the industry could change. Ann Rinaldi is a leading writer. She's got lot of fans. It seemed to me such a wonderful opportunity.

She didn't see it that way. She drew back from the table where she was sitting, pulling away from me. She listened to me and said no, and, that she'd never write another book about American Indians again.

Part of me was really glad that she said she would never write another one, but part of me was disappointed over a lost opportunity.

That Mitali is openly writing about her decision means a lot. Thank you, Mitali.

Paulette Molin's AMERICAN INDIAN THEMES IN YOUNG ADULT LITERATURE

Yesterday I posted an essay by my colleague, Paulette F. Molin, about activities found in the American Automobile Association's magazine. If you're a member of AAA, take a look at her essay. If you're a classroom teacher or librarian, consider using her essay and the online material for a lesson on critical media literacy. Paulette has been studying curriculum materials since the 1970s.

Paulette has an excellent book out that librarians and teachers should add to their shelves: American Indian Themes in Young Adult Literature. In her foreword is a letter from Genevieve Bell, the woman Scholastic hired to vet (fact check) Ann Rinaldi's My Heart Is on the Ground. Here's part of that letter:

I completely sympathize with the critical review of Rinaldi's work that has proliferated both on the Internet and off it. There is much in the book that is offensive, and I did say so to Scholastic. Indeed, there is much more in this book that is offensive that I missed, which is why I urged Melissa Jenkins [of Scholastic] to get a Lakota person to read it. She knew that I was not Native American. However, I also contracted with Scholastic to fact-check the manuscript and thought it only appropriate that my name be attached to that act. Again, I can only reflect on the naivete that made me think that my comments would be taken seriously enough to change the course of the publication. I am deeply sorry that they did not. And I apologize for the offense that I have given, however, inadvertently (xv).

The book has three sections (Contemporary Literature, Historical Fiction, and Nonfiction). In "Contemporary Literature," you can read her discussion of Lipsyte's three books The Brave, The Chief, and Warrior Angel or see what she has to say about Will Hobbs or Ben Mikaelsen. Course, she also talks about books that are well-done, such as Cynthia Leitich Smith's Rain Is Not My Indian Name.

In the bibliography is an extensive list of articles that will be of interest to librarians and scholars alike. One example: a scholar might want to look at Mary Gloyne Byler's 1974 article in Library Journal, "The Image of American Indians Projected by non-Indian Writers."

Like Through Indian Eyes and A Broken Flute (both subtitled The Native Experience in Books for Children), this is one of those books that belongs in every library.

As noted yesterday, the book is available from Oyate. It was published in 2005 by Scarecrow.

Slapin's review of Landman's APACHE GIRL WARRIOR

As indicated in my previous post on this book, I asked Beverly Slapin about Landman's book. She sent this review.

[Note: This review may not be published elsewhere without written permission of its author, Beverly Slapin.]

Landman, Tanya, Apache Girl Warrior. Walker Books, 2007. Grades 5-up

This atrocious young adult historical novel is the product of Landman’s (stated) lifelong fascination with Indians combined with an outrageous sense of white entitlement, sloppy research habits, a Euro-feminist approach to history and a penchant for imaginative exercises. From her comments on the back cover: “The image of a girl carrying a spear formed behind my eyes, but I didn’t know if a Native American woman would have been allowed to become a warrior…. The more I read, the more I found that what I’d imagined was entirely plausible.”

In Landman’s imagination, the Ndee refer to themselves as “Apache” (an enemy name) in the late 1800s, all “Apache” men are warriors (whether or not they are engaged in battle), all “Apache” women (“maidens”) are ineffectual (except for the girl who becomes a warrior), all “Apaches” have those ubiquitous “black eyes” that distinguish them as Indians, and hatred and vengeance are the sole motivating factors in “Apache” life. Besides one stereotype after another, much, much cultural confusion (e.g., wikiups are not interchangeable with “teepees” [sic]), and godawful writing, including relentlessly garbled metaphors ([Y]et hope tiptoed on softly moccasined feet, setting my heart beating with excitement”) and relentless ethnographic expositions (“It is the custom of our people to burn the possessions of the dead. And thus I burned our teepee.”), there’s the complete absence of family members: grandparents, aunties and uncles, husbands, mothers, children who play, joke, sing and enjoy each other’s company. Real families. Just like anyone else’s.

And the “Apaches,” of course, are doomed: “[I]will die proud. I will die free. And first I will live, and I will fight. I am Apache.”

Landman’s “historical note” is her not-so-veiled attempt to justify what she has done: “[E]ach of the tribes, all of the characters and every place name are fictional. I’ve made no attempt to produce an accurate historical novel: this is an imagined evocation of how it may have felt to have lived through events like these. I’ve tried to be authentic as far as period detail goes, but at times I have had to stretch things in order to make the story work.”

It has just been brought to my attention that Landman has done another young adult novel, called AZTEC: THE GOLDSMITH’S DAUGHTER, about another “doomed” civilization, whose protagonist’s “spirit and fire held [her] captivated for months while [Landman] wrote her story.” Landman is one of those authors, along with Lynne Reid Banks and Anne Rinaldi, who, through willful ignorance, mangle the histories and lifeways of the peoples they write about, tromping all over real peoples whose descendants live today, in order to come up with books that sell well and win awards. These people really ought not to be writing about cultures other than their own.

Teachers and librarians who already have copies of APACHE GIRL WARRIOR can teach middle readers critical reading skills by having them compare it with Joe Bruchac’s excellent book, GERONIMO.

—Beverly Slapin

[Note from Debbie: Bruchac's book is available from Oyate.]

A response to Richie's review of GHOST OF SPIRIT BEAR, and a critical look at TOUCHING SPIRIT BEAR

In the last few weeks, Richie Partington's review of Ben Mikaelsen's sequel to Touching Spirit Bear has been making the round on Internet listservs.

He opens his review with this excerpt from Black-Eyed Peas "Where is the Love?"

"Wrong information always shown by the media
Negative images is the main criteria
Infecting the young minds faster than bacteria
Kids wanna act like what they see in the cinema
Yo', whatever happened to the values of humanity
Whatever happened to the fairness in equality
Instead of spreading love we spreading animosity."

He goes on to praise Ghost of Spirit Bear, but again and again, I come back to the lyrics he opened the review with...

"Wrong information always shown by the media" --- That describes, perfectly, the way that Native peoples are portrayed in the movies, cartoons, advertisements, commercial products, and, of course, children's books.

"Wrong information" also perfectly describes Mikaelsen's first book, so it is puzzling that Partington uses that phrase to describe the book. Either Richie hasn't read criticism of Native imagery in Touching Spirit Bear, or, like so many others, he thinks a critique of Mikaelsen's misuse and misrepresentation of Tlingit people doesn't matter.

Touching Spirit Bear relies on and draws heavily from Mikaelsen's ideas about American Indians. His writing includes stereotypes, old and new. 'Old' meaning those older ones that put American Indians in the same class as animals; 'new' meaning the new-age use of Native spirituality.

Chapter 1 opens with Cole in a boat on his way to spend a year on an island in Alaska. This is "banishment" and the outcome, we are told later, of Circle Justice. With Cole are two men, both of them Tlingit. One is Garvey, who is "built like a bulldog with lazy eyes" (p. 3). The other is Edwin who "stared forward with a steely patience, like a wolf waiting" (p. 4)

Bulldog? Wolf? Is this a style Mikaelsen uses to describe all his characters? Here's how he describes Cole:

"He was an innocent-looking, baby-faced fifteen-year-old from Minneapolis..." (p.5)

And here's Peter, the kid Cole beat up:

"...the skinny red-haired boy," (p. 7)

Cole's parents:

"His mom acted like a scared Barbie doll, always looking good but never fighting back or standing up to anyone" (p. 9)

"His dad was a bullheaded drinker with a temper" (p. 9).

Bullheaded is certainly derived from an animal, but the term is common usage for someone who is determined to do what he wants, regardless of what others might think or want. Given that, I think it is different from the ways that Garvey and Edwin are described.

It is through Garvey that Cole learns about Circle Justice. Based on my reading about Circle Justice, Mikaelsen (through Garvey) does a reasonably accurate job of laying it out on pages 10-12. Where Mikaelsen goes astray is when Cole gets banished. Several meetings of the Circle have taken place, but Cole isn't making any progress. In frustration he tells the people at the meeting: "Send me someplace where I'm not in your face and can't hurt anyone. But why do I have to go to jail?" (p. 55).

Garvey replies "I'm a native Tlingit," he said. "I was raised in Southeast Alaska. It is possible I could make arrangements to have Cole banished to a remote island on the Inland Passage" (p. 55-56).

This banishment to an island comes straight out of the pages of the newspapers in 1994. "Indian Boys' Exile Turns Out to Be Hoax" ran in the New York Times. Reading it is much like reading the early part of Touching Spirit Bear. Except for the part of the article that reads:

"Now it turns out there is no such thing as banishment in Tlingit culture, according to tribal leaders and elders in Alaska."

Hmmm... That gives me pause. Let' see... the article came out in 1994. HarperCollins published Touching Spirit Bear in 2001. Apparently the book wasn't vetted. Maybe they don't do that with fiction? MAYBE THEY SHOULD!!! Course, I know of two books that experts critiqued prior to publication, but the writer/publisher chose to ignore the suggestions (those two are Ann Rinaldi's My Heart is on the Ground, and one of those Indian in the Cupboard books by Lynn Reid Banks).

Course, the book reading world loved Touching Spirit Bear! It's on all manner of "Best Books" lists, it has gotten many awards and glowing reviews. The Horn Book Guide is the only major review journal that panned it, giving it a 5 (out of 6) and calling it "Marginal, seriously flawed, but with some redeeming quality." I'm not sure what the redeeming quality is. "Marginal" and "seriously flawed" are dead on, though.

If you're an editor, get fiction manuscripts reviewed by experts, and when the experts point out problems, listen to the problems. Do not assume that the research the author has done is sufficient. It is likely that he/she is ill-informed.

Be mindful of the sources that you use when creating/writing/reviewing a story with Native characters or content. Today, more than ever, it is possible to find material written by Native people. You don't have to rely on biased and outdated material to do your research!

I know---there's a lot of people out there who are huge fans of Touching Spirit Bear. Seems there's a strong feeling that this book helps kids who are bullies. It may do that, but it also helps everyone stoke their incorrect stereotypical ideas about who Native people are. For that reason, I cannot and do not recommend it.

Notes:

(1) Touching Spirit Bear has been written about twice before on this website. See Beverly Slapin's review and a piece I wrote about comments posted to her review "Reaction to Slapin's review."

(2) Also see resources that can be used to evaluate the Tlingit content in Touching Spirit Bear.

(3) Read Ben Mikaelsen's response here.
.

Recommended Materials: Government and Christian-run Boarding and Residential Schools for Native Students

Recommended Materials: 

Government and Christian-run Boarding 

and Residential Schools for Native Students

(Originally published on Feb 11, 2008 as a blog post; 

Updated and published as a page on our menu bar on June 29, 2021)

The goal of boarding and residential schools in the United States and Canada was to "kill the Indian" and "save the man." Some characterize the schools as efforts to assimilate Native peoples into white society but beneath that effort was the goal of undermining our status as peoples of sovereign nations by removing our children so that we would cease to exist as Native People. If that occurred, all of our lands and resources would be fully available to non-Native people. 

In 2007, a Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) was established in Canada to document the harms of the residential schools there. We recommend you read through the TRC pages and subsequent writings that document its failures to achieve stated goals. In June of 2021, reports of hundreds of unmarked graves at residential schools were published. We recommend Why David A. Robertson curated a list of books about residential schools (published on June 24, 2021) for his response to news of these unmarked graves. On his list of 48 books, we are adding the ones we have read to our list below. 

In 2021, Deb Haaland (Acoma), Secretary of the Interior under President Biden, announced an initiative to examine the boarding schools in the U.S. 

White writers have written books that whitewash the schools. Those books (by Ann Rinaldi and Eve Bunting) do not appear below. We have also found some books by writers (John Smelcer and Melanie Florence) who claim a Native identity to be problematic and they do not appear on our list.

As more resources and books are published on this topic, we will add them to this list. We recommend items listed here, and we welcome your suggestions. 

LITERATURE

Picture Books

• Callaghan, Jodie. The Train. Second Story Press, 2021.
• Campbell, Nicola. Shi-shi-etko. Groundwood Books, 2005
• Campbell, Nicola. Shin-shin's Canoe. Groundwood Books, 2008.
• Dupuis, Jenny Kay. I Am Not A Number. Second Story Press, 2016.
• Jordan-Fenton, Christy and Margaret Pokiak-Fenton. Fatty Legs: A True Story, Annick Press. 2010 and 2020.
• LaFlesche, Francis. The Middle Five: Indian Schoolboys of the Omaha Tribe, University of Nebraska Press, 1978. (Originally published in 1900)
• Loyie, Larry, and Constance Brissenden. As Long as the Rivers Flow: A Last Summer before Residential School. Groundwood Books, 2003.
• Robertson, David A. When We Were Alone. Highwater Press. 2019.
• Santiago, Chiori. Home to Medicine Mountain. Children’s Book Press, 1998.

Books for Middle and/or High School Students

• Dimaline, Cherie. The Marrow Thieves. DCB, 2017.
• Mosionier, Beatrice. In Search of April Raintree. Pemmican Publications, 1983.
• Qoyawayma, Polingaysi. No Turning Back: A Hopi Indian Woman’s Struggle to Live in Two Worlds, University of New Mexico Press, 1977.
• Sterling, Shirley. My Name Is Seepeetza. Groundwood Books, 1998.
• Tohe, Laura. No Parole Today. West End Press, 1999.

NON-FICTION, HIGH SCHOOL/COLLEGE

• Adams, David Wallace. Education for Extinction: American Indians and the Boarding School Experience 1875-1928, University Press of Kansas, 1997
• Archuleta, Margaret, Brenda J. Child, and K. Tsianina Lomawaima (Eds.) Away from Home: American Indian Boarding School Experiences, Heard Museum, 2000
• Child, Brenda. Boarding School Seasons: American Indian Families, 1900-1940, University of Nebraska Press, 2000
• Cobb, Amanda J. Listening to our Grandmothers' Stories: The Bloomfield Academy for Chickasaw Females, 1852-1949. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2000
• Gilbert, Matthew Sakiestewa. Education Beyond the Mesas. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2010.
• Johnson, Basil. Indian School Days, University of Oklahoma Press, 1995
• Lomawaima, K. Tsianina. They Called It Prairie Light: The Story of Chilocco Indian School, University of Nebraska Press, 1995
• Trafzer, Clifford E., Jean A. Keller, and Lorene Sisquoc. Boarding School Blues: Revisiting American Indian Educational Experiences, Bison Books, 2006.

WEBSITES

• Carlisle Indian Industrial School History The most well-known of the schools in the US. Established in 1879 in Carlisle, Pennsylvania
• Brainwashing and Boarding Schools: Undoing the Shameful Legacy. Bibliography of Indian Boarding Schools: Approximately 1875 to 1940 Prepared at Arizona State University

VIDEO

• The Indian Boarding Schools: Keeping the Culture Alive, is a two-part series, prepared with the full participation of the Hopi Cultural Preservation Office. Go here to order the series and view the trailer.
• In the White Man's Image, PBS, 1992
• Shi-shi-etko, Moving Images Distribution, 2009.

Beverly Slapin's HOW TO WRITE A HISTORICAL YOUNG ADULT NOVEL WITH AN INDIAN THEME (FOR FUN AND PROFIT)

Update: Friday, Feb. 8, 2008---Two thoughts

First, it isn't enough to read what Beverly Slapin wrote below... You have to do more than laugh or talk about it with others. She makes many powerful points, doing so with humor. Consider how you might act on what you read. Could you, for example, ask teachers to reconsider using those books in the classroom? Could you avoid buying those books as gifts?

Second, visit Oyate's website and order books from their catalog. It is the single-best-place I know to get terrific books by and about Native peoples. They have books from U.S. and Canadian publishers. They have books published by large publishing houses who can afford to send their authors out on book tours, and books published by tiny publishers that can ill afford to send books to review journals. Oyate has music and video, too, and excellent teaching materials. And, it is a not-for-profit organization.

[Note: This post may not be published elsewhere without the written permission of its author, Beverly Slapin.]

1. Name your characters in the traditional Indian way, using the formula that has been followed for decades: an adjective or participle followed by a noun. The adjective should be a color, the participle should imply animal or supernatural skills, and the noun should be an animal or natural occurrence or weapon. Young children are always named with a diminutive adjective followed by a predator (if a boy) or cute baby animal or form of flora (if a girl), and elders should always have the adjective “gray” in their names. If you are uncomfortable with the idea of making up names, go to authentic Indian sources. Just be sure that you cite them in your “author’s note.”

A good example: “There I found the Indian burial ground, with dozens of white headstones bearing the names of the Native American children from all tribes who had died while at the school. The names, with the tribes inscribed underneath, were so lyrical that they leapt out at me and took on instant personalities…. [T]heir personalities came through to me with such force and inspiration, I had to use them. I am sure that in whatever Happy Hunting Ground they may reside, they will forgive this artistic license, and even smile upon it.”[1]

2. Take get extra points for using the terms “brave,” “maiden,” and “papoose,” instead of “man,” “woman,” and “baby.” Don’t bother with “squaw.” It’s controversial. Also take extra points for the number of times you refer to Indian eyes and hair as “dark” or “black.” And remember: Almost all of your male characters should be referred to as “warriors,” whether or not they have ever seen battle.

A good example: “She had a round, moon face, with large, half-moon eyes of black…. She did not smile, but her dark eyes continued their piercing stare as if they were on the mission of a vision quest…. Her dark eyes rested on mine…[2]

3. Never, ever have your Indian characters use contractions. Indians did not do that. And, whenever possible, make sure your Indians eschew articles, conjunctions, adverbs. The clunkier the dialogue, the more authentically Indian it will appear. And if you want to create really authentic Indian speech, think Tonto.

A good example: “Attean learn…. White man come more and more to Indian land. White man not make treaty with pipe. White man make signs on paper, signs Indian not know. Indian put mark on paper to show him friend of white man. Then white man take land. Tell Indian cannot hunt on land. Attean learn to read white man’s signs. Attean not give away hunting grounds.”[3]

4. Make sure that you use as many relentlessly garbled metaphors as you can. That way, your protagonist will sound more Indian.

A good example: “Yet hope tiptoed on softly moccasined feet, setting my heart beating with excitement.”[4]

5. Or, if you choose to tell the story in the third person, you can do even more with illogical similes.

A good example: “Broken blades of corn stuck up out of the blackness, like dead warriors waiting for the Great Spirit to call them…. She gave no sound, but her heart cried out like a wounded eagle.”[5]

6. And if you wish to combine similes with metaphors, jump in with both feet and let your imagination run wild as a buffalo fleeing a railroad train.

A good example: “Your legs are your friends. You must teach them to run like the antelope. Then your enemies will not be able to catch you. Your eyes are your friends. You must teach them to see like the eagle so that you are a great hunter and your enemies cannot approach without your knowledge. Your ears are your friends. They will tell you what your eyes cannot see in the night. Teach them to hear the beetle that crawls on the ground. Then you will be able to hear the snake that slithers in the grass and it will not be able to bite you. Your arms and your hands are your friends. They must be strong and quick like the cougar’s.[6]

7. If your Indian protagonist is speaking, make sure that she or he leaves the narration every once in a while to give an ethnographic exposition to the reader. It is imperative that this explanation begins with “It is the custom of our people to….” This form of writing not only teaches young readers very interesting facts about how your Indians lived, but it also shows their teachers how much you know about how your Indians lived.

A good example: “It is the custom of our people to burn the possessions of the dead. And thus I burned our tepee.”[7]

8. Make sure that your Indian narrator represents the world in one way and then contradicts this representation. Nobody understands Indian worldviews anyway, so you don’t have to be too careful.

A good example: “My brother Nanolatch is ‘He Who Leaps with the Salmon.’ Nana means ‘Salmonwife’ but no one ever calls me that. It is my sacred name. When you say it aloud, you set the spirits loose. You can never predict what will happen then.”[8]

9. Make sure that your Indian narrator portrays Indian belief systems and ceremonies as mindlessly violent.

A good example: “I’d have to grow up and be a warrior—decorate my body with eagle feathers, dance the secret Sun Dance. Some of them torture themselves during the dance to show how brave they are. They hang themselves from a pole by leather thongs pulled through their chest muscles. I could do that. I’m brave enough.”[9]

10. If your Indian narrator is a young woman, have her mount a quasi-feminist critique of what you perceive to be a patriarchal society.

A good example: “Have a successful Initiation or fail, the end is the same for all Kwakiutl girls. We will marry some boy we did not choose and leave this village. A wish twists sharply in my belly—not to be born…female, but to be male.”[10]

11. If your protagonist is a white boy, make sure that your Indian character exists in order to teach him all about hunting, honor, dignity, loyalty, decency, and the necessity of washing up before dinner.

A good example: “Tom, I want to explain. I want to and I don’t know the words. I always hated men who could talk and talk, but now I almost wish I was one of them. Then I’d know what to say to you to make you know. I am a Choctaw, Tom, and I must follow the Choctaw way….I lived my whole life believing it and I’ll die believing it. It can’t be any other way, boy. It will come surely and in its time, as winter does when the fall has gone. I don’t like the winter, when the trees are old-looking and the animals lose their flesh, but I know it has to come.”[11]

12. If your protagonist is a white boy, make sure that he, after having lived in an Indian camp for a while, runs things ever more efficiently than the Indians ever did themselves.

A good example: “Jimmy discovered how hard it was to get things going. He had wanted to leave by dawn, but it was quite another matter to pack up ten saddles and nine travois, then round up the horses and direct fifteen women, thirty-five children, and three elders.”[12]

13. Through the voice of your white protagonist, make sure to describe Indians in ways that connote the three B’s—barbarism, brutality and bloodthirstiness.

A good example: “To Jimmy’s horror, some held spears in the air, dangling scalps from a recent raid on a wagon train. Jimmy clamped his hand over his mouth and swallowed the bile rising in his throat. He had heard about such things, but he hadn’t thought friendly Indians killed people. A sickening, sweet odor brought tears to his eyes. He was afraid and angry at the same time….But now this—this atrocity!…He counted six scalps, all caked with blood. One was a woman’s long red hair, one a girl’s blond pigtails, four were men’s scalps, three dark, one gray. Jimmy thought about his family. His little sister wore pigtails, his uncle Lefty had gray hair. Molly’s hair was long and flowing. He pictured their house pierced with burning arrows and his mother crying for help….He hated himself for thinking that living with Indians would be carefree.”[13]

14. If your Indian narrator is an old man, have him remember the past with the oratorical skill of a white person trying to sound Indian.

A good example: “I wear white man’s clothes. Some of my grandchildren’s grandchildren do not speak Choctaw. Our great traditions seem fragile now. But that day as I watched Moshi ride away on his horse, I felt the eagle spirit race through my blood.”[14]

15. Feel free to take words from well-known Indian leaders and ascribe them to your characters, even though they are from totally different nations. Make sure to appear humble in your “author’s notes” so that no one will accuse you of stealing anything.

A good example: “The Crow people did not live on the coast, like Sings-the-Best-Songs and Drums-Louder and the people of the Wolf Clan, but I have lent Chief Plenty-Coup’s words to Sings-the-Best-Songs because they are more beautiful and more apt than any I could invent.”[15]

16. If you don’t know something about a particular tribe, just make stuff up, and rationalize, rationalize, rationalize.

A good example: “I’ve tried to take a little from several of the peoples of the northwest coast—Kwakiutl, Haida, Nuu-chah-nulth, and others. I cannot claim to know enough about their rich heritage to draw them, any of them, accurately. In any case, this is a work of fiction. But it is dedicated to them, and the wolves, whose hunting prowess they respected and admired.”[16]

17. Always remember, you are the author; you are creating your tribe, you are entitled to invent anything you want.

A good example: “While I tried to provide authenticity in depicting the pre-contact life of the Kwakiutl, I still had to remain true to my characters, who created their own world and understood it through their viewpoints. Certain aspects, like their names, tattooing, the Salmon Being chant…are my own interpretations. The ceremonies and rituals in the transformation potlatch have been altered and simplified to suit this story.”[17]

18. If you run out of things to say in your “author’s note,” feel free to invent otherworldly rationales to justify what you have created.

A good example: “The image of a girl carrying a spear formed behind my eyes, but I didn’t know if a Native American woman would have been allowed to become a warrior….The more I read, the more I found that what I’d imagined was entirely plausible.”[18]

19. And finally, don’t be afraid that your writing will be considered stupifyingly abysmal. You have captured the Indian way of talking, the Indian way of thinking, and, well, the Indian way of being.

A good example: “I see no happiness ahead…. I see no village in the moons to come where my wickiup will be a place of warm contentment. Once my heart was certain in the ways of our people, and my moccasins were set in the path I knew to be good. Now I travel in the moccasins of another and know not the path I follow or where it will lead.”[19]

20. Above all, stand firm in your belief that Native American people are expendable and that you, with your myriad talents and numerous awards, are a suitable alternative who can best tell their stories.

A good example: “In doing historical research, I ran across the story of the Indian School in Carlisle, Pennsylvania, and the heart-wrenching accounts of young Native Americans…. Here was a story that must be told, I decided… There I found the Indian burial ground, with dozens of white headstones bearing the names of the Native American children from all tribes who had died while at the school. The names, with the tribes inscribed underneath, were so lyrical that they leapt out at me and took on instant personalities…. In one respect I hoped to bring them alive again and show their plight and their accomplishments to young readers today…. [T]heir personalities came through to me with such force and inspiration, I had to use them. I am sure that in whatever Happy Hunting Ground they may reside, they will forgive this artistic license, and even smile upon it.”[20]

—Beverly Slapin

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[1] Rinaldi, Ann, My Heart Is On the Ground: The Diary of Nannie Little Rose, a Sioux Girl, Carlisle Indian School, Pennsylvania, 1880. Dear America Series. New York: Scholastic, Inc., 1999, pp. 195-196.

[2] Ellington, Charlotte Jane, Dancing Leaf. Johnson City, Tenn.: The Overmountain Press, 2007, pp. 124-126.

[3] Speare, Elizabeth George, The Sign of the Beaver. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1983, p. 31.

[4] Landman, Tanya, Apache Girl Warrior. London: Walker Books, Ltd., 2007, p. 68.

[5] Von Ahnen, Katherine, Heart of Naosaqua. Boulder, Col., Roberts Rinehart, in cooperation with the Council for Indian Education, 1996, p. 38.

[6] Burks, Brian, Runs With Horses. San Diego: Harcourt Brace, 1995, p. 4.

[7] Landman, op.cit., p. 26.

[8] Schwartz, Virginia Frances, Initiation. Allston, Mass.: Fitzhenry & Whiteside, 2003, p. 13.

[9] Osborne, Mary Pope, Adeline Falling Star. New York: Scholastic, 2000, p. 111.

[10] Schwartz, op. cit., pp. 31-32.

[11] Ashabranner, Brent, and Russell G. Davis, The Choctaw Code. Greenville, S.C.: 1961, 2006, pp. 32-33.

[12] Gregory, Kristiana, The Legend of Jimmy Spoon. San Diego, Cal.: Harcourt, 1990, 2002, p. 130.

[13] Ibid., pp. 37-38.

[14] Fitzpatrick, Marie-Louise, The Long March. Hillsboro, Ore., Beyond Words, 1998, n.p.

[15] Branford, Henrietta, White Wolf. Cambridge, Mass., Candlewick Press, 1998, p. 91.

[16] Ibid.

[17] Schwartz, op. cit., p. 265.

[18] Landman, op. cit., inside back cover.

[19] Von Ahnen, op. cit., p. 94.

[20] Rinaldi, Ann, op. cit., pp. 195-196.

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