HIGHLY RECOMMENDED: REZ BALL BY BYRON GRAVES

Rez Ball 

Written by Byron Graves (Ojibwe)

Cover by Natasha Donovan (Métis)

Published by Heartdrum

Published in 2023

Reviewer: Debbie Reese

Review Status: Highly Recommended

Earlier this month I was in San Diego at the California Indian Ed for All 2023 Summit. I was invited to give a presentation about children's books. During that trip I was reading an advance copy of Rez Ball by Byron Graves. At the gathering during breaks or meals, I'd tell people 'Hey! I'm reading this new book, Rez Ball....' and I'd tell them a bit about what I'd been reading. Their faces lit up and I was glad to see them jotting down the title. For me, and them, and so many Native kids, basketball is the game!

The morning of my departure, I was so caught up by the book that I nearly missed my plane! 

I'm one of the Native kids who grew up on a reservation where playing basketball was the thing. In high school some of my cousins from Nambé played on the basketball team. Years later, I taught at a school for Native kids and can't tell you have many times I got hoarse, cheering for our teams (especially when we were making it to state championship games). Then came a years-long span of time when I wasn't watching games. But then last year we moved to California and I started following the NBA. 

When I was reading Rez Ball and came across references to Steph Curry, and LeBron, and Kevin Durant, I texted friends to tell them! I gotta say, there were many exclamation points in my texts. 

****

You can tell: I really like this book! Here's the synopsis:

These days, Tre Brun is happiest when he is playing basketball on the Red Lake Reservation high school team—even though he can’t help but be constantly gut-punched with memories of his big brother, Jaxon, who died in an accident.

When Jaxon's former teammates on the varsity team offer to take Tre under their wing, he sees this as his shot to represent his Ojibwe rez all the way to their first state championship. This is the first step toward his dream of playing in the NBA, no matter how much the odds are stacked against him.

But stepping into his brother’s shoes as a star player means that Tre can’t mess up. Not on the court, not at school, and not with his new friend, gamer Khiana, who he is definitely not falling in love with.

After decades of rez teams almost making it, Tre needs to take his team to state. Because if he can live up to Jaxon's dreams, their story isn’t over yet. 

Set on the Red Lake Reservation, Rez Ball is by a Native writer, and it is tribally specific through and through. Those are the two main things I look for as I read a book. In Rez Ball, there's families and cousins, and hanging out with them. Homes have Native art on the walls. Families serve Kool-Aid. Ojibwe words and rez-slang are mixed into their everyday speech. Kids read books by Native writers... It is way cool to see one reading Dawn Quigley's Apple in the Middle! And that passage about the Indigenous Baby Yoda shirt? Well, that was perfection! Across the country, Native people wrap baby Yoda with a warm embrace. Native people went all-out on social media, sharing memes and items they made.

In Rez Ball, there's teen parties where kids are drinking. And there's harsh realities, too. Native kids are profiled by security officers at shopping centers off-rez, and by police. And they deal with rivals who taunt them with anti-Indigenous slurs. 

Life of Native kids on reservations -- Byron Graves gives it to us straight. The joys and the tears... it is all here. As noted above, I highly recommend Rez Ball and I look forward to seeing what Byron Graves writes next! 

Dear Teachers: A Series of Open Letters about Scott O'Dell's Books. Open Letter #1 - Suns and Moons

August 20, 2023

Dear Teachers, 

You (or one of your colleagues) have written to me about Scott O'Dell's Thunder Rolling in the Mountains. Some of your schools have been using it for years and some of your schools use it because it is in the Wit and Wisdom curriculum. Those who have written to me sense that it is not a good choice. They're in Wisconsin. Oregon. California. Tennessee. Louisiana. Ohio. Alabama. New York. 

Because this is an Open Letter that may be shared with school administrators and others who don't know who I am, I'll start with some biographical introduction. I'm tribally enrolled at Nambé Owingeh, a sovereign Native Nation in the southwestern part of the US. I started my professional career as a school teacher in Albuquerque and later got a PhD in Education at the University of Illinois Urbana Champaign. My research and publications are focused on depictions of Native peoples in children's and young adult books. 

At Illinois I served as president of the Native student group where we focused on three goals: a Native American House that would support the needs of Native students, an American Indian Studies program that would hire Native professors and provide all students with courses on Native peoples, and for a change in the university's mascot (it was "Chief Illiniwek"). I received my doctorate in 2000 and held a post doctoral position from 2002-2004. In 2002, the Native House was founded. In 2005, the Board of Trustees approved the American Indian Studies Program. In 2007, the university got rid of the mascot. 

Some of you may be a bit confused because you've been thinking of us as "tribes." You were educated and socialized to think of us as tribes but, in fact, the tribes are hundreds of distinct nations of Native people. When Europeans came onto our homelands hundreds of years ago, they knew we were nations. And when the U.S. became a nation, its leaders knew we were nations, too. There's hundreds of treaties between various Native Nations and those who came onto our lands.

Who I am, what I know as a Native woman, and what I study shapes what you find in my book chapters, research and professional articles, and on my blog, American Indians in Children's Literature.  A few weeks ago, I did a "close read" of Thunder Rolling in the Mountains. When I do a close read, I write up notes as I read. I ask questions. If there are misrepresentations or bias or factual errors, I note them, and then I share the notes. Anybody can get a copy of the book, start reading, and look over my notes as they do. 

O'Dell's book was published in 1992 by Houghton Mifflin. You may have a copy with a different cover because it has been reissued many times since then. 

In textbooks and professional guides for those who teach, study, review or critique children's books, there are some common elements. In From Cover to Cover, Kathleen T. Horning writes that we should try to determine what sort of authority the author has. Generally it means that we should see if the author has training or expertise on the topic the book is about. 

Given my identity and area of study I also ask if the author is Native.

The cover of Thunder Rolling in the Mountains lists two authors: Scott O'Dell and Elizabeth Hall (she was O'Dell's wife). My guess is that most teachers recognize the name, "Scott O'Dell," because they probably read his books when they were in school. They may know he won awards for some of his books. 

But returning to the question: did he have training or expertise on Native peoples? Was he Native? 

Scott O'Dell was not Native and did not have a degree that might have given him the authority that Horning asked us to look for. At his website, he wrote that he went to three different colleges but I don't see any indication of what he studied at them, and he also doesn't say that he graduated from any of them. Author identity and expertise are a starting point. What the author creates is important, too. 

When I did my close read of Thunder Rolling in the Mountains, I saw O'Dell used "moons" and "suns" to signify passage of time. Because I've studied children's books about Native peoples for over 30 years I've seen other non-Native writers do it. I wondered if O'Dell did it in his other books.

He wrote several children's books about Native people of different tribal nations. Those nations include ones on the west coast, the southwest, and the northwest. They have very different histories, religions, songs, and stories. And, they spoke different languages. Let's look at four of them:

• Island of the Blue Dolphins came out in 1960. It is set in the 1850s. O'Dell based it on a Native woman whose people lived on an island off the coast of California. In the mid 1830s, they were taken to the mainland. She remained (or was left) on the island, living alone until 1853 when she was also taken to the mainland. She and her people are called "Nicolenos" because their island was called "San Nicolas Island" by White people. I wonder what they called their island, and what they called themselves--in their language?

• Sing Down the Moon came out in 1970. Set in the 1860s, it is about the Navajo people (some prefer to be called Diné which is their word for "the people") and their forced removal from Diné Bikéyah, or Dinétah (their homeland). Their removal is commonly called The Long Walk. 

• Streams to the River, River to the Sea: A Novel of Sacagawea came out in 1986. As the title indicates, it is about Sacagawea as a member of Lewis and Clark's expedition in 1804. 

• Thunder Rolling in the Mountains came out in 1992. It is set in the 1870s and is about Chief Joseph, a Nez Perce leader, and his people being forced off of their homelands. O'Dell tells us about it through the perspective of his daughter. 

O'Dell (a white male) wrote from the point of view of female characters of four different tribal nations who lived in the 1800s--a very different era. To do so, he had to imagine and create the thoughts, emotions, and dialog for characters (some of them were actual people) whose first language was not English and whose culture was different from his. Let's look at some of what he wrote.

In chapter one of Thunder Rolling in the Mountains, O'Dell has Sound of Running Feet (the main character) thinking:

I had not ridden the trail for many moons.

 And a few sentences later, another character says: 

"We told our mothers before we left to dig roots that we would be gone three suns."

In chapter one of Island of the Blue Dolphins, O'Dell has Karana (the main character) thinking this about her brother:

He was small for one who had lived so many suns and moons. 

In chapter 10 of Streams to the River, River to the Sea: A Novel of Sacagawea, O'Dell has Sacagawea saying (about Charbonneau), that

"He will be gone for many suns."

In chapter 20 of Sing Down the Moon, O'Dell's main character, Bright Moon, is thinking:

Within the rising and waning of five moons my baby would be born.

In each of those sentences, all the words are English ones. O'Dell could have said day/days or night/nights instead of moons/suns. Why did he use "suns" and "moons" instead? 

I suspect it started with James Fenimore Cooper. A lot of the things Cooper came up with when he wrote The Last of the Mohicans in 1826 have been used by other writers. In chapter three, he has

"We said the country should be ours from the place where the water runs up no longer on this stream, to a river twenty sun's journey toward the summer."

Earlier in the chapter, we see this:

"Even your traditions make the case in my favor, Chingachgook," he said, speaking in the tongue which was known to all the natives who formerly inhabited the country between the Hudson and the Potomac, and of which we shall give a free translation for the benefit of the reader; endeavoring, at the same time, to preserve some of the peculiarities, both of the individual and of the language."

Peculiarities? What might those be? I think his use of "sun's" is one of those peculiarities. As I think about what Cooper meant, I realize it really doesn't matter. What matters is that others--like O'Dell--use it, too, as if Native people of four entirely different nations in entirely different locations and time periods, used it. 

What O'Dell did, I think, is a failure. Teachers who assign his books may inadvertently be encouraging kids to think that many Native people used sun/moon instead of night/day to mark time. That's not educational! 

I'm not criticizing teachers for using Thunder Rolling in the Mountain (or one of his other books) if it is part of what your school requires. I am, however, asking you to consider studying it, and talking with your fellow teachers and administrators about the book. And if you decide his books cannot be used in your classroom, I hope you'll write to your district's curriculum officer and to the entities (like the company that publishes the Wit and Wisdom curriculum) to ask them to stop using the book, and that your letter will explain why you think the book is mis-educating students. 

When I started this post, I titled it "Dear Teachers: An Open Letter about Scott O'Dell and Elizabeth Hall's THUNDER ROLLING IN THE MOUNTAINS, and I meant to be comprehensive, addressing most of the things I noted in my close read. But as I worked on it, I felt overwhelmed. I decided I didn't want to overwhelm you. Instead, I decided to present my research as a series, titled "Dear Teachers: A Series of Open Letters about Scott O'Dell's Books. Open Letter #1 - Suns and Moons." I welcome your comments and if you prefer to write to me directly, you can find my email address in the contact link. I will not share what you say without your permission. 

I think my second letter in the series will be about quotes. O'Dell has characters speaking certain words and phrases that real people said, and that are findable in books and other historical records. 

That's all--for now,

Debbie

Highly Recommended: Christine Day's WE STILL BELONG

We Still Belong

Written by Christine Day (Upper Skagit)

Cover art by Madelyn Goodnight (Chickasaw)

Published in 2023

Publisher: Heartdrum

Reviewer: Debbie Reese

Review Status: Highly Recommended

Publisher's synopsis:

Wesley is proud of the poem she wrote for Indigenous Peoples’ Day—but the reaction from a teacher makes her wonder if expressing herself is important enough. And due to the specific tribal laws of her family’s Nation, Wesley is unable to enroll in the Upper Skagit tribe and is left feeling “not Native enough.” Through the course of the novel, with the help of her family and friends, she comes to embrace her own place within the Native community.

 ****

What I particularly like about Christine Day's books is that she includes things that I know kids know about. For example, young people are way into video games and gamer culture. More about that later.

Early on in her book, we learn that Wesley and her mom are living with Wesley's grandpa, aunt and uncle and their baby. Across Indian Country, you'll find Native homes where more than one generation is living together. Generally speaking, white families in the US don't live that way but Native ones often do. Whether it is just the way it was from day one or if it is because someone is in need of help, you'll often find more than one generation living together.

Ok--I said "later" about gamer culture but I'm jumping to it right now. It is morning. Wesley and her mom are awake before the rest of the family. Wesley asks if she can watch TV. I was with her, there. "Watch TV." I know what that is, but then Wesley turns the TV on to her favorite streaming channel app and a short list of channels she subscribes to. Here's that passage:

[T]hree gamers are online, including my favorite streamer, gemmakitty01, whose stream title makes me gasp: 

Happy Indigenous Peoples' Day! 24-Hour Live Charity Stream! Come Watch Me Game and Chat with Native American Guest Stars!

Wesley gasps and her mom comes over. She knows who Gemma is, too! They wonder if Gemma is Native. They sit together and talk about what Gemma usually offers, but this stream is different--and they are psyched! Native guests! Wesley's Grandpa and Uncle wake up and see her and her mom at the TV. Her uncle says they actually played video games instead of watching others play. Her Grandpa says they played them at the arcade. Then Grandpa says: 

"These young people today, with all their options, all their devices." 

I bet that particular passage will resonate with lots of kids--Native, or not! One generation kind of sneering at a younger one... I'm certainly familiar with it. I remember having a similar conversation with my dad when car sound systems went from the kind with two round knobs to those with way more to them! Actually, I'm probably a generation older than Wesley's grandpa! Anyway, I love this story! 

This is a bit of a spoiler: about halfway through the story (the school day is over and Wesley is home), her Grandpa gets home and urgently asks her to put the show back on. She's not sure what he's talking about. He says:

"Gemma, the pink kitty girl, the Klamath gamer girl, that's the one."

Turns out, Grandpa was watching after Wesley had gone to school and learned that Gemma is Klamath. There's banter between the two, and lots of joy, too, as they watch for awhile. 

That gamer part of the story is a delight and I think kids will like it a lot. It is fresh and new, and hot. 

As the book title suggests, there's a lot more going on than that. Belonging in this story has to do with being able to be enrolled or a citizen of a tribal nation. Wesley's mom and grandfather are, but she isn't. I'm not going to say more about that. Instead, I'm going to ask you to get the book and before you read it, flip to the Author's Note. There, Christine Day provides you with the background information you need to understand what Wesley is talking about. It is a growing conversation across Indian Country and I think it vital everybody learn about it, whether you are Native or not. 

I have many passages highlighted in my copy of We Still Belong. Activism is there and it, too, rings so true for Native kids. I highly recommend it! 

Laura's dog, Jack, goes to the "Happy Hunting Grounds"

This is a quick post due to lack of a stable Internet connection.

On Thursday, June 8 of this year (2023), I wrote about the "Wilder" postcast that Glynnis MacNicol and Emily Marinoff are doing for iHeartPodcasts. 

Right now I'm listening to episode 5, titled This American Life. There's discussion about things that actually happened and things that did not. In this episode, I paused when I heard "Happy Hunting Ground." 

In By the Shores of Silver Lake, the family dog, Jack, dies. Pa tells Laura (location 293 of my e-copy):

"Don't cry, Laura," Pa said. "He has gone to the Happy Hunting Grounds."

"Truly, Pa?" Laura managed to ask.

"Good dogs have their reward, Laura," Pa told her.

Perhaps in the Happy Hunting Grounds, Jack was running gaily in the wind over some high prairie, as he used to run on the beautiful wild prairies of Indian Territory.

Laura clearly knows what Happy Hunting Grounds means. My guess is most AICL readers know "Happy Hunting Grounds" is supposed to mean heaven according to...   Hesitating here, as you see, because this is one of those phrases that gets attributed to Native peoples, but is it something a Native person said? Does a Native Nation have the idea of an after life that when translated, becomes happy hunting grounds? 

I asked similar questions about the phrase in 2006 when I came across it in Lois Lenski's Indian Captive: The Story of Mary Jemison. The entry at Wikipedia says the phrase first appeared in 1823 in The Pioneers by James Fenimore Cooper. It also says that Washington Irving (author of "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow) used it. I found it in Astoria, which came out in 1836: 

The same provident care for the deceased that prevails among the hunting tribes of the prairies is observable among the piscatory tribes of the rivers and sea-coast. Among the former, the favorite horse of the hunter is buried with him in the same funereal mound, and his bow and arrows are laid by his side, that he may be perfectly equipped for the “happy hunting grounds” of the land of spirits. 

I'm gonna hit 'publish' on this draft so it goes online. Later today I'll finish listening to the the Wilder podcast. If they take up the phrase, I'll definitely be back to add to this post. And when I have stable internet connections, I'll do some more research. 

Debbie Reese Featured on Banner at City Lights Books

A few weeks ago I received an email from staff at City Lights Bookstore in San Francisco. They were creating new banners for their storefront. For this set they wanted to address book banning and asked if they could include an image of me, and an image of An Indigenous Peoples' History of the United States, for Young People (Jean Mendoza and I adapted the original by Roxanne Dunbar Ortiz), and a quote from an interview of me in the Southern Poverty Law Center's magazine (Spring 2022), Learning for Justice. 

Of course, I said yes. It is important that a Native voice be included (thank you, City Lights!). The banners went up earlier this week. Here's a photo of all of them, and below is a closer look at mine. 

The City Lights social media accounts include this paragraph:

Join us in working to stop the wave of censorship being pushed by reactionary forces across the United States. Stand strong with your librarians who are under direct attack, fight back and raise your voice at your local school board meetings and be sure to support the authors and bookstores who continue to provide an inclusive, truthful cultural lexicon for all.

City Lights also includes quotes from all the people on the banners. I'm copying them here:

Allen Ginsberg: “They censor words, not the things they denote.”

Toni Morrison: “Fear of unmonitored writing is justified because truth is trouble.”

Debbie Reese: “They are taking away mirrors for kids who so desperately need to see themselves in books.”

Luis Rodriguez: “Censorship is against reality. Those who ban books underestimate readers.”

Maia Kobabe: “Certain parts of the country may be fixated on censoring me, but I will not be censoring myself.”

In the interview with SPLC (where my quote is from), I talked about the importance of books written by Native people, for children who are Native.

Since then I have been thinking that current efforts to remove our voices from the shelves are another version of killing the Indian. I'm working on an article about it. In short, some of you know that the federal government established boarding schools for Native children in the 1800s to 'kill the Indian in him and save the man.' The federal schools were preceded by mission schools that sought to eradicate our religions. Many of them were funded by the federal government. Then in the 1900s, there were nationwide efforts to take Native children from their families and tribal nations, placing them in white homes. That, too, is characterized as an effort to kill the Indian. 

These are all genocidal actions taking place on Native homelands. 

Please work with us, as City Lights asks, to stop censorship by reactionary forces. Support teachers and librarians in your area when they are attacked for using books by Native writers. When you're at your library, ask for books by Native writers. Wherever you are, you are on lands that are, or were, homelands of Native peoples. Who are they? What do you know about them? Are there any books by writers of those tribal nations? The strongest words in the City Lights paragraph above are "raise your voice." Please do. Raise Your Voice. 

Notes on O'Dell's THUNDER ROLLING IN THE MOUNTAINS

Over the last few years I've had several questions from parents and teachers about Scott O'Dell's Thunder Rolling in the Mountains. Today (June 20th, 2023) I am going to start reading it and making notes as I do. 

Update on Thursday June 29th at 8:30 AM: I've now read up to chapter ten and strongly recommend it not be used in classrooms. I think the curriculum companies that include it should revisit their decision to include it. It does not educate students. 

I think it originally came out from Houghton Mifflin in 1992. O'Dell is listed as the first author. The second author is Elizabeth Hall. He died in 1989. He was married to Hall. The "Foreword" is by Hall. She writes that

A few years earlier we had followed the trail taken in 1877 by Chief Joseph and his valiant band [...]. From that trip, from the recollections of Nez Perce and U.S. Army personnel, from the writings of historians, and from Scott's instructions and musings about the story, I have completed the manuscript as Scott had asked me to do. Most of the characters are based on actual Nez Perce, and most of their words and deeds are drawn from recollections of survivors."

She writes that these sources are essential to the book:

• Two eyewitness accounts compiled by Lucullus V. McWhorter: Yellow Wolf: His Own Story (the recollections of Chief Joseph's nephew) and Hear Me, My Chiefs! (based on eyewitness accounts of both sides)
• Chief Joseph's Own Story told on his trip to Washington DC in 1897

She writes that these books were helpful:

• Merrill Beal's "I Will Fight No More Forever": Chief Joseph and the Nez Perce War
• Helen Addison Howard's Saga of Chief Joseph
• Arthur Josephy Jr.'s The Nez Perce Indians and the Opening of the Northwest

I'm glad that she includes her sources. But, questions I pose as I read that info:

• Who is Lucullus V. McWhorter? It sounds like he spoke with a Nez Perce person. When did that happen? Did the Nez Perce person speak English? Did McWhorter speak Nimipuutimt (the language the Nez Perce people speak). If the answer to those questions is no, there was likely a translator. 
• Hall says they used Chief Joseph's Own Story as a key source. The subtitle for that source is "Told by him on his trip to Washington, D.C., in 1897*". The footnote for the asterisk says "Chief Joseph's story is presented here not as a matter of historic record or as evidence in the controversy over the facts in connection with the treaty of 1855, but to give an impression of the man." Who wrote that footnote? When I look for information about that account and footnote, what will I find? (Also noting here that the second paragraph of his account says his name is "In-mut-too-yah-lat-lat (Thunder-traveling-over-the-mountains)." Very close to the O'dell/Hall book title, isn't it? 

The copyright page in the book has this summary:

In the late nineteenth century, a young Nez Perce girl relates how her people were driven off their land by the U.S. Army and forced to retreat north until their eventual surrender.

Questions I pose as I read the summary:

• How does O'Dell (a white man born in 1898) know what a Nez Perce girl of a different gender, era (1800s), and language thinks, feels, and says? 

Now, my notes on chapter one (summary in plain font; my thoughts in italics):

• O'Dell/Hall use "we" and "I" for their characters. We are meant to read the book as if the characters the authors create are Native and giving us an insider point of view.   
• O'Dell/Hall use "for many moons" and "three suns" and "six snows ago." I see those references to the passing of time in books written by writers that are not Native. It may sound Native, but is it? 
• The primary character in this chapter is 14-year-old "Sound of Running Feet." She's in the lead of a group of seven that are on an outing to dig roots. She has a rifle that belonged to her grandfather "Old Joseph." As he lay dying, he gifted it to her, to become hers when she became a woman at the age of 14. That happened three months prior to the outing. They see a cabin with smoke rising from the chimney. When another character asks Sound of Running Feet what it is, he says "White people. [...] Indians do not build cabins." Would a Nez Perce person of that time period use the word "Indians"? They might say that Native peoples don't build cabins because they are not aware of those that do build permanent structures. 
• Sound of Running Feet learned (quickly) how to use the rifle. Her father doesn't like it but she thinks it would "be bad to speak against the gift now that Old Joseph was dead. He could come back and make trouble." With that, O'Dell/Hall are telling us something about how Nez Perce people feel about death and gifts. What is their source for that? 
• At the cabin they see a man and woman in the stream. She has a copper pan that the man fills with dirt brought to him by a "boy of our people." They are panning for gold. 
• The man speaks to them. The Nez Perce boy translates, telling them that the man wants to know how they are. Sound of Running Feet does not answer that question. Instead she asks why the white man has built a cabin on land that doesn't belong to him. At first glance it seems cool to ask the question about the land. This is definitely a character who is familiar with fights for land. 
• Sound of Running Feet knows that the boy had gone to a mission school at Lapwai, that his name is Storm Cloud, and that he was mixed up in a murder. He tells the white man what Sound of Running Feet asked about the land. and he replies that the Nez Perce own too much land, that they can't use it all, and that they're greedy. He says his name is Jason Upright and that they better not send Nez Perce warriors to talk to him. The group leaves without replying but at a distance, Sound of Running Feet shoots at and blows a hole in the pan the man and woman are using. They went on home. I'm intrigued. Does the boy's past at the mission school mean he's working for the white man as punishment? What was the murder? Obviously the bit about Nez Perce being greedy is ridiculous. 

[Pausing to hit 'publish' on my notes thus far. These are rough notes. There's likely typos and lack of clarity. I'll be back to add more notes later, when I read chapter 2. I invite your thoughts to what I'm sharing.]

-----

Back on Sunday, June 25th to add notes. I did a quick re-read of chapter one and am noting a paragraph in there that I did not note above. It occurs just after the group sees the cabin and the white people there. Sound of Running Feet remembers hearing "our chieftains" talking about white people. They (the white people) had only set foot on land that belonged to people in the tribe who "called themselves Christians, those who had sold their land to the Big Father..." I don't recall "Big Father" in other works. Generally, writers use "Great Father" to refer to the president of the U.S.  "Great Father" is seen in books like Peter Pan. Sometime I want to trace down the first use of that phrase. That these Nez Perce individuals who became Christians were able to sell their land tells us that the Nez Perce had gone through allotment. Allotment of their land began in 1889. 

More on "Great Father." Immediately following the dedication in a book called The Great Father: The United States Government and the American Indians" written by Francis Paul Prucha, there's a set of quotes that have that term. The oldest one is "When your Great Father and his chiefs see those things, they will know that you have opened your ears to your Great Father's voice, and have come to hear his good Councils. It is attributed to Lewis and Clark, in presenting American flags and medals to Oto chiefs in 1804. 

My notes and comments (in italics) on chapter two:

• In the opening paragraphs, Sound of Running Feet tells her father about the white people they saw at the cabin. He tells her more are on the way. In her narrative, she tells us that he talks to her because he has no sons and that unlike other girls in the village. In Island of the Blue Dolphins, O'Dell created a female character that is "unlike" others. He's doing it here, too, as if he's championing feminism. But does that work? It does for white culture but does it for Native cultures? 
• She replies, angrily, and uses "Here we stand." and that they will "stand and fight." Both of those are similar to remarks widely attributed to Chief Joseph, delivered by him on Oct 5, 1877: "From where the sun now stands, I will fight no more forever." Why is O'Dell using them here, as dialog for Sound of Running Feet? 
• The text says that her father, Joseph, is son of Old Joseph, who was an "honored Chieftain of the Ne-mee-poo. He was their chieftain because he could see far away into the land of the suns and moons that had not yet risen." She thinks he was a kind and gentle man who was "too kind" with the whites and "was not a warrior." O'Dell seems to be asking the reader to think of her as tough, tougher than her grandfather. Why didn't she refer to him as her grandfather? 
• "The sun was dying." That sentence is used to indicate sundown. Did the Nez Perce think the sun was dying? Did O'Dell use that directly from a source or is it his construction?
• There are several real people in this chapter. One is U.S. General Howard; the others are Nez Perce men. O'Dell has them all speaking to each other. Is there evidence that they said those words? Here's what O'Dell has Two Moons saying to his son, Swan Necklace: "Listen, idler of all the hills and valleys and meadows in this realm of the living," he said, "Listen to me." "Death stalks the Land of the Wandering Waters." When I do a search on that last sentence, the only return is to O'Dell's book. 

Back on June 26: 

My notes and comments (in italics) on chapter three:

• When General Howard went to Chief Joseph to tell him to leave Wallowa, Chief Joseph tells him that when he was "ten snows" he climbed a mountain, made a bed on a stone, and had no water or food. He "put a pebble in my nose and a pebble in each ear to keep me awake." After "five suns" his "guardian spirit" appeared and gave him his name, "Thunder Rolling in the Mountains." That name, he says, binds him forever to the land. O'Dell is describing what he wants us to read as a Nez Perce ritual. What is his source for it? 
• Howard doesn't care about how Chief Joseph feels about the land. They have to leave "before thirty suns come and go." Another Nez Perce man (Too-hul-hul-sote) tells Howard that "the Spirit Chief" made everything and asks who is "this man" who tells them they have to leave.  Chief Joseph asks for more time because the Snake River is flooding and they would die crossing it. Howard says he will send soldiers with guns to drive them out, and Chief Joseph says they will go. Sound of Running Feet knows some of the Nez Perce men will not go and thinks she agrees with them. 

My Notes and comments (in italics) on chapter four:

• Chief Joseph speaks to his people, telling them they must leave. In part, he says "Some among us, the young warriors, will say to you, 'Do not leave. Do not flee like old women. Fight. We shall live here in peace.'" That line -- 'do not flee like old women' -- bothers me. O'Dell wants us to think old women are cowards. What is his source for that characterization? 
• Chief Joseph tells them they are outgunned and outnumbered and have to leave in "ten suns." He tells them to make bundles of things they value. Sound of Running Feet looks at Springtime (her mother), who is pregnant. 
• Sound of Running Feet goes to Swan Necklace (the two are supposed to get married; the passage includes details on who gave what to whom). "You have heard Chief Joseph speak. Where do you stand?" He is a painter. His father, Two Moons, does not think that is a worthwhile occupation. He belittles him. During the visit from Howard, Two Moons made Swan Necklace hold the horses of two of the younger warriors (Red Moccasin Tops and Wah-lit-its). His father thinks it there is a war to be fought and it is not good for them to be married until after the war. Sound of Running Feet gives Swan Necklace her rifle and bullets. A lot of historical fiction has scenes where a marriage is planned. One family has to give the other items like horses and blankets. What is the source for that? 

Back on Wednesday, June 28, to add more notes:

My Notes and comments (in italics) on chapter five: 

• In the second paragraph, Sound of Running Feet gives a physical description of Ollokot: "He was very tall and had his hair cut in a roach that stuck up and made him look like a giant." Earlier in the book she talks about her father's braids. Physical descriptions like these are awkward. Or perhaps what I mean is that outsiders (like Scott O'Dell) who are writing as if they are insiders focus on things that they think matter. But, do they matter to the insiders? And are they accurate? The mostly-available photographs of these two men show them in a certain way but did they look that way all the time? It strikes me as a rather exotifying and reductionist move from O'Dell.  
• In this chapter, Too-hul-hul-sote is angry about being made to leave their land. He shouts "Our Great Spirit Chief made the world," he said. "He put me here on this piece of earth. This earth is my mother. You tell me to live like the white man and plow the land. Shall I take a knife and tear my mother's bosom? You tell me to cut the grass and make hay. But dare I cut off my mother's hair?" There's a couple more sentences after that. As I started reading that passage, I thought that it sounds a bit (or a lot) like an as-told-to construction or interpretation of something a Native person said that a white person embellished. I did a quick search and was quite surprised to find "Shall I take a knife and tear my mother's bosom" as something said by someone else entirely. I see it attributed to Wovoka (who was Paiute) and to Smohalla (who was Wanapum). I kept looking and found the following two quotes in Josephy's book, The Nez Perce Indians and the Opening of the Northwest. Josephy is one of O'Dell and Hall's sources (as noted above)! These two quotes open Joseph's book:

"The earth is part of my body . . . I belong to the land out of which I came. The Earth is my mother." --TOOHOOLHOOLZOTE, THE NEZ PERCE 

"You ask me to plow the ground! Shall I take a knife and tear my mother's bosom Then when I die she will not take me to her bosom to rest. You ask me to dig for stone! Shall I dig under her skin for her bones? Then when I die I cannot enter her body to be born again. You ask me to cut grass and make hay and sell it, and be rich like white men! But how dare I cut off my mother's hair?" --SMOHALLA, NORTHWEST INDIAN RELIGIOUS TEACHER

 There's a lot to dig into but at this moment I think a teacher would be doing a tremendous disservice as an educator, if she uses Thunder Rolling in the Mountains! To me, it looks like O'Dell and/or Hall erred completely in taking that "Shall I take a knife and tear my mother's bosom" and attributing it to Too-hul-hul-sote. 

Back on Thursday, June 29th (at 8:30 AM) with more notes:

I read chapter six but am not noting any passages in it. Here, then, is chapter seven:

• Chief Joseph and his group are leaving their homeland but are also having fights with soldiers. They're leaving White Bird Canyon and thirty-four white soldiers, dead. Sound of Running Feet makes "a doll for my baby sister with a piece of a soldier's shirt." and "My small cousin had a pair of soldier's heavy boots and asked me to cut off their tops and make a purse out of them." That sounds to me like trophy-taking associated with soldiers--not children.
• As they ride, White Feather, a girl one year older than Sound of Running Feet asks her if she is pleased. "The warriors have won and your father has lost." Sound of Running Feet replies that she is pleased and that if the soldiers follow, "we will beat them again." When Swan Necklace tells her about soldiers dropping their guns and running for their lives, she claps her hands with joy. This defiance and joy are rubbing me the wrong way.   

In chapter nine, Sound of Running Feet thinks that if the war is over, she'll be able to marry Swan Necklace. As they ride she takes care of the children in the group, and tells them stories about Coyote, "the trickster with magic powers." Her story is about how Coyote created the tribes. Hmmm... a creation story. Will I find that in a source? 

On to chapter ten:

• Chief Joseph and his group have had several fights with soldiers. Many of the soldiers have been killed. Swan Necklace and Sound of Running Feet are talking about the battles. Then, we read this:

"Children made ugly masks of the dead soldiers with eyes hanging down on their cheeks and pieces of ear cut off. They dug holes and buried the masks deep and laughed and hummed secret songs that they made up." Pretty grotesque, isn't it? Did that happen?! How the heck does a teacher work with that passage?! How does it impact Native kids? How does it impact non-Native kids? 

----------

Thursday, June 29, 4:12 PM -- my final set of notes:

I'm not making detailed notes by chapter at this point. I'm tired of the recurring not-Native phrases and oddities like the constance references to Canada as "the Old Lady's country." I did a quick search on that and all hits go to O'Dell and teaching materials about the book. Another redundant phrase is "fight no more" or a variant of it. O'Dell made a real person -- Chief Joseph's daughter -- into the main character in his book. She looks down on her father throughout the book. Did she, in fact, feel that way about her father? From what I've found so far, there's no support for creating her with that disposition. 

In chapter 19 is the "Hear me, my chiefs" speech that is widely attributed to Chief Joseph. Just before it appears, O'Dell writes that Chief Joseph walks to his pony and gets his rifle. General Howard reaches for it, but Chief Joseph pulled it back and said he was not surrendering to Howard. Instead, he was surrendering to Colonel Miles because "This is the man that ran me down." The last sentences of the speech are:

"Hear me, my chiefs," he called. "I am tired. My heart is sick and sad. From where the sun now stands, I will fight no more forever."

Then, O'Dell writes, warriors stepped forward and laid their rifles on the ground in front of the generals, and women and children came forward and stood with the men. Sound of Running Feet, however, "could not join them." A small group slipped away for "the Old Lady's country" and she's decided to go with them. Swan Necklace is among them. Most of the remaining chapters are about battles and deaths and trying to get away from soldiers to what they think is safety in Sitting Bull's camp. In the final chapters, Sound of Running feet is married off to an Assiniboine man but runs away. She imagines killing him with her rifle but doesn't. In an afterword, O'Dell and Hall say that she made her way to Sitting Bull's camp and stayed there for a year before returning to Lapwai where she took the name Sarah and married George Moses, a Nimipu man (Nimipu is the name the Nez Perce use for themselves). She never saw her father again. He and the group that was with him were taken to Oklahoma and later returned to Lapwai if they agreed to become Christians. Chief Joseph refused and was taken to eastern Washington, to the Colville Reservation where he died in 1904.

----

Those are my notes. I'll study them and in some instances, do some research to verify what O'Dell and Hall wrote in their book. Then, I'll do a more formal review. I think it may take the form of an open letter to educators, including the individuals at Great Minds Ed, who produce the Wit and Wisdom curriculum. Thunder Rolling in the Mountains is part of their curriculum. 

"Wilder" podcast from Glynnis MacNicol and Emily Marinoff

Some months ago, I agreed to speak with Glynnis MacNicol about a podcast that she was doing with Emily Marinoff for iHeartPodcasts. She'd read my blog posts about Little House on the Prairie and decided to see if I would be interested in being interviewed for the podcast. I've done a lot of work on that book series and given a few interviews. I said yes and we talked for an hour, maybe more. I don't remember. Anyway, the first episode of the podcast dropped today. I listened to it. My impressions so far are good. MacNicol is trying to figure out her attachment to the books. The first episode is described like this:

Host Glynnis MacNicol has loved Laura Ingalls Wilder and her Little House books since she was a kid. She’s not alone in this, a lot of people have a strong devotion to Laura. Some travel miles to visit her houses and attend pageants dedicated to Laura and her books. But over the years, Laura, her work, and her legacy have become increasingly controversial. How do we reckon with the things we loved as a child? The stuff that made us who we are? Glynnis takes to the road to find out, driving across the midwest to all of Laura’s houses. First stop: Walnut Grove, Minnesota. 

I'm not sure if I'll be able to do a blog post after each one. I have a busy summer ahead of me! I'm definitely going to listen and if I find myself needing to respond, I will. Here's some thoughts about episode one, "Now is Now."

The first part is similar to what I hear when people share their memories of reading the books when they were young. Later though, I hear the questioning. The reckoning. 

That part begins when MacNicol speaks to Keiko Satomi, at approximately the 30 minute mark. Satomi starts by talking about reading the books in 2nd or 3rd grade, captivated by the sensory details and scale that were so different from where she grew up in Japan on a small island surrounded by water. MacNicol knew there was a Japanese fan base for Wilder but thought it was due to the television show. She finds out it goes back further than that, to WWII. Satomi, as an adult, says she realized there was a political dimension to her having read the books as a child. It was, she said, "calculated to bring that literature for a certain purpose, a political reason." That realization gave her mixed feelings about the books. After Hiroshima and Nagasaki, MacNicol says, The Long Winter was one of the first books General Douglas MacArthur selected for translation into Japanese. That really piqued my interest, so I poked around a bit to see what I might learn about that. 

In 2021, Michael B. Pass at the University of Ottawa wrote an article called Red Hair in a Global World: A Japanese History of Anne of Green Gables and Prince Edward Island for the Journal of L.M. Montgomery Studies. In it, Pass writes that the Supreme Commander for the Allied Powers (SCAP) decreed it would license foreign books if they furthered the objectives of the occupation by helping democratize Japanese society. MacArthur's wife, Jean, recommended Wilder's The Long Winter. In 2006, Noriko Suzuki wrote "Japanese Democratization and the Little House Books: The Relation between General Head Quarters and The Long Winter in Japan after World War II in Children's Literature Association Quarterly, Vol 31, #1. Suzuki's article has a lot of fascinating details, and they write that MacArthur "saw the Little House books as an effective educational apparatus for inculcating American democracy in Japanese schoolchildren." They were placed in libraries and schools where they became deeply popular. 

In the podcast, Satomi says she thinks differently now about the books because of the ways that Native peoples are depicted. I'm glad for that because in my experience doing workshops with educators, they don't remember the passages in the series that depict Native peoples as savage or primitive. I hope some will hear what Satomi says and will look again at their embrace of the books. I think MacNicol is doing that with the podcast. I wonder where she'll end up? 

I've written a little about the misrepresentations in The Long Winter and may do more, later.

A quick same-day update: contradictions abound. The translation of The Long Winter was done in 1949. The goal in making it available in Japan was over democracy. Think back to US society at that time. How democratic was it? Was everyone treated the same? Could everyone vote? 

Jenny Kay Dupuis's art for the National Basketball Association

If you're a professional basketball fan, you may already know about the art that Jenny Kay Dupuis is doing for the NBA. In 2022 she was selected to do a series of Woodland Pop Art images. Here's one: 

She's a member of Nipissing First Nation and has written children's books including I Am Not A Number and Heart Berry Bling. In April she did a TikTok video about a mural she did for the NBA Courtside Restaurant in Toronto. I see there that you can buy items with her art! Gotta check that out. 

Here's links to other public art by Native artists who work in children's literature:

Crystal Worl's art on a Boeing 737

"We Are On Dakota Land" art by Marlena Myles on Minneapolis Metro Bus

Chinle Planting Hope's Bookmobile, with art by Jonathan Nelson

Jenny Kay Dupuis's art for the National Basketball Association

Crystal Worl's art on a Boeing 737

Back in May, I saw news stories about Crystal Worl's art being used on Alaska Airlines planes. She's done illustrations for children's books that we've written about before, and I was delighted to see it in such a large scale:

Worl is Tlingit Atabascan Yupik and Filipino. She's active on twitter. There, she shared several photos and also, an article from Alaska Public Media story that tells us the plane is named Xáat Kwáani (Salmon People). 

Today (June 8, 2023)--not by plan--is turning out to be a day in which I'm blogging about public art by Native people who also write or illustrate children's books. 

Crystal Worl's art on a Boeing 737

"We Are On Dakota Land" art by Marlena Myles on Minneapolis Metro Bus

Chinle Planting Hope's Bookmobile, with art by Jonathan Nelson

Jenny Kay Dupuis's art for the National Basketball Association

"We Are On Dakota Land" art by Marlena Myles on Minneapolis Metro Bus

Earlier this week I saw photos of a city bus with "WE ARE ON DAKOTA LAND" written on it. It was more than the words, though. I recognized the art right away. It is by Marlena Myles, who has illustrated several children's books: the cover for Indian No More and the illustrations in Thanku: Poems of Gratitude. She's also created stunning maps, murals, and a Dakota Spirit Walk that is an augmented reality public art installation. She is Spirit Lake Dakota. Here's the photos she shared, of the bus:

If you're in St Paul, look for her murals and where ever you are, download the maps from her site and read the books she's illustrated!

See:

Crystal Worl's art on a Boeing 737

"We Are On Dakota Land" art by Marlena Myles on Minneapolis Metro Bus

Chinle Planting Hope's Bookmobile, with art by Jonathan Nelson

Jenny Kay Dupuis's art for the National Basketball Association

Chinle Planting Hope's Bookmobile with Jonathan Nelson's art

This morning as I looked in on my Facebook account, I saw the most marvelous thing: a bookmobile with Jonathan Nelson's art!

The bookmobile is a project with Chinle Planting Hope, a grassroots organization in Chinle, Arizona. It is a nonprofit working to build physical, social, educational, and spiritual health of community members. You can read more about the project at their site: R.E.A.D. in Beauty Bookmobile. 

Regular readers of AICL or anything who reads books by Native writers and illustrators know that Nelson has illustrated several books, including First Cousins and Rock Your Mocs. He also wrote and illustrated Jonesy a few years ago. Nelson is Diné. 

For more public art by Native artists, see:

Crystal Worl's art on a Boeing 737

"We Are On Dakota Land" art by Marlena Myles on Minneapolis Metro Bus

Chinle Planting Hope's Bookmobile, with art by Jonathan Nelson

Jenny Kay Dupuis's art for the National Basketball Association

NOT RECOMMENDED: Lois Duncan's STRANGER WITH MY FACE

I begin with a sample of the book covers for Duncan's Stranger With My Face, overlaid with the red X that I use to signal that a book is not recommended. There are several different covers, which means the book sold well enough to get reissued with a new cover.

In her article for the May/June 2023 issue of Horn Book Magazine, Angeline Boulley talks about Lois Duncan's Stranger With My Face. She wrote:

The first time I read a story that featured a Native American protagonist, I was a high school senior. It was a significant experience for me. As an Ojibwe teen, I hadn't realized my absence in books until that moment. In Stranger with My Face by Lois Duncan, teen Laurie learns she was adopted as a baby and that she is Native American. I was excited and intrigued to dive into the mystery-thriller in which Laurie's twin sister, Lia, reconnects with her via astral projection. 

My excitement quickly subsided, to be replaced by something unfamiliar and uncomfortable. I didn't have the words at the time to convey exactly why I felt so disappointed and, even, embarrassed. Now--as an adult with a twenty-year career striving to improve public education for and about Native Americans--I understand that the story lacked authentic representation and perpetuated stereotypes of Indigenous peoples. 

Boulley's article pushed me to take a look at Stranger with My Face. Previously, I've read Season of the Two Heart (published in 1964). Both are deeply problematic. As an adult, Angeline Boulley is able to describe an emotion she had experienced as a Native teen. That emotion? Embarrassment. What do non-Native teens feel today, when they read the book? What do non-Native readers feel? What do non-Native readers take away from the book?

Today, I listened to a podcast about the book (recorded 4 years ago) by two adults who discuss books they read as teens. They are clearly enthralled by the book and have no idea the Native content is problematic. 

Here's the book description:

Laurie Stratton finally has everything a sixteen-year-old could ever want. But just as her perfect summer comes to a close, things start to unravel when her boyfriend insists he saw her out with another guy-when Laurie was really home sick! More mysterious sightings convince Laurie someone very real is out there, watching her. . . .

The truth reveals a long-lost sister who has spent the years growing bitter and dangerous. She has learned how to haunt Laurie, but the visits soon become perilous. She wants something from Laurie-her life!

Stranger with My Face was first published by Little Brown in 1981. It was named an ALA Best Books for Young Adults and as the covers above show, it did very well. It was republished in 2011, with some edits to the content and an interview with Duncan, done by young adult author Jenny Han. 

Han asks Duncan about the Native content (p. 291):

Jenny: The glimpse into Navajo culture is fascinating, and in the end, it's what saves Laurie. Do you have any ties to Navajo or Native American culture?

Lois: I spent most of my adult life in New Mexico, surrounded by Navajo culture. 

That's it: Lois lived in New Mexico, "surrounded" by Navajo culture. In several places, I read that she lived in Albuquerque starting in the early 1960s. The Navajo Nation is not in Albuquerque. There were, and are, Navajo people in Albuquerque, but Duncan said "Navajo culture." As I sit here, my thoughts on "Navajo culture" are of Navajo art forms like sandpaintings and woven rugs. What does she mean? 

Let's take a look at the Navajo content in her book. I lay it out by page number with content or description of content on that page, followed by my comments in italics. The story is set on the east coast, mostly on an island. The protagonist is a seventeen-year-old teen named Laurie. Her boyfriend is Gordon. 

p. 23

I didn't have the sort of looks you found just everywhere. Gordon kidded sometimes that I could be part Indian with my dark coloring, high cheekbones and almond eyes. "Bedroom eyes," he called them, meaning they were sexy. My father referred to them as "alien" because they were the same shape as the eyes he gave to the maidens from other worlds in his novels. When I looked at my parents--both of them so fair--and at Neal and Meg with their light blue eyes and freckled noses, I wondered sometimes how I had managed to be born into such a family.

Deb's Comments

Dark coloring and high cheekbones? Those are stereotypical markers. And, those "bedroom eyes" bother me. The phrase sexualizes a teen girl. The book was first written in 1981 and revised in 2011. I suppose some women would be ok with that term in 1981 but in 2011? Surely not! When the 2011 edition was done, that passage could have been edited out, but apparently neither Duncan or her editor thought it was a problem. It is, however, a significant problem. Native women experience violence from non-Native men at alarming rates. 

Laurie's dad calls her eyes "alien." He's a sci-fi writer and uses that word to describe "maidens from other worlds." He means other planets, but reading those words hits me in a different way. As we come to find out, Laurie's birth mother was Navajo. The adoption part of the story took place in Gallup, New Mexico--which borders the Navajo Nation's reservation. Laurie is definitely not from "another world" but the white family that adopted her? We could say they are from another world. But really, her dad's use of the word is awkward and ought to be have taken out of the revised edition.

p. 52

Before we get to page 52, Laurie's friends, Laurie's family, and Laurie start to sense and see someone/something that looks like Laurie. 

Meanwhile, a new family has moved to the island. It includes a girl named Helen. They've moved from Tuba City, Arizona, where Helen's parents taught at an Indian boarding school. Laurie starts to become friends with Helen. Here's their conversation on page 52:

Helen told me about a boy named Luis Nez.

That was the name he used at school," she said. "I wasn't allowed to know his Indian name. The Navajos are a private people. Luis was my boyfriend, but there was so much that he couldn't share with me." She paused, and then raised her hand to touch the tiny turquoise carving at her throat. "When I left, he gave me this." 

"What is it?" I asked, hoisting myself up on one elbow so as to see better.

"A fetish," Helen said. "It's an eagle, predator of the air. When Luis learned we were coming east by plane, he carved it for me. Turquoise is the Navajo good-luck stone. A turquoise eagle protects the wearer against evil spirits from the skies."

Deb's Comments 

Duncan tells us that Helen's family has moved from Tuba City, Arizona which is within the borders of the Navajo Nation. It is likely that the boarding school her parents taught at is Tuba City Boarding School. That's fine, but what about the passage about his Indian name? All we really get from that is that Navajos are kind of mysterious. 

Remember that Duncan told Han that she was surrounded by Navajo culture? Duncan was a white woman (she died in 2016). When Duncan died, people offered tributes to her body of writing, especially for the crime, gothic, supernatural, and horror stories she wrote for teen readers. She told Jenny Han in the interview that she experienced astral projection herself (more on that later) several years after the book came out when her daughter was murdered.  

Duncan didn't have to depict Laurie as being Native. Laurie could have been white. Why did Duncan depict her as Navajo (actually, Laurie's birth mother was Navajo and her birth father was white)? To some readers it might seem cool, or as Han said "fascinating" but if the reader is Native or Navajo in particular, it is not cool. 

When Laurie first saw Lia (her twin), Lia is a scary, ghost-like image. On page 65, Laurie learns that she was adopted. Laurie's parents had gone to New Mexico to adopt a baby. They saw twin babies. Her mother held and liked Laurie, but not Lia. When she held Lia, she felt that the baby was strange and that she would not be able to love her so they did not adopt Lia. Her placements in foster homes never worked out. Much later in the story we learn that Lia has malevolent motives, driven by jealousy and she uses astral projection to harm others. 

The passage on page 52 has things in it that Duncan depicts as cultural: a name and how it is/is not used, and a stone and its significance within a culture. Living in Albuquerque, Duncan would probably know about stores where Native art is sold. Carved stone figures (fetishes) were, and are, quite popular items. She may have asked a shop keeper about the significance of turquoise (the stone) and eagles (the fetish Helen has been given). In this book, that fetish is a key plot device. Duncan needed an item that would fit with the astral projection plot. In the interview with Han, Duncan likens the fetish to rosary beads or bread and wine in Communion. 

I wish that Duncan had depicted Laurie and Lia as white characters and used rosary beads instead of making them Navajo. In choosing to use Navajo culture, she casts Navajo people as mysterious and, well, evil. Angeline Boulley felt embarrassed and I bet Navajo readers feel that, too. 

p. 53

When Laurie tells Helen that people see her in places she wasn't actually at, Helen asks her if she was using astral projection:

"Using what?" I said in bewilderment.

"You know--sending your mind out from your body? Luis's father used to be able to do it." She paused. "If you had, you'd have known it. It's something you have to work at."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said. What did Luis's father do?"

"I'm not sure exactly," Helen said. "Luis didn't talk much about it. He seemed to take it for granted. The medicine men could do it whenever they wanted, I think, and some of the others too. The way Luis described it, the person has to will himself out of his body. It takes tremendous concentration."

Debbie's Comments:

Above (through Helen), Duncan is introducing readers to astral projection as something that a Navajo medicine man does. Laurie's bewilderment and responses further Duncan's depiction of Navajo's as mysterious. 

As the story continues, Helen and Laurie talk about astral projection, and Laurie tries to find out more information about her twin. Helen and Laurie grow closer, as friends. But then something happens to Helen. She falls, hits her head, and ends up in the hospital. It becomes clear that Lia is responsible for Helen's fall. That makes Helen the most recent person who Lia hurt out of jealousy. The turquoise eagle necklace plays a prominent role towards the end of the story. Megan (Laurie's little sister) throws it at Lia who has occupied Laurie's body. On contact, Lia is driven from Laurie's body and Laurie retakes control of her body. 

p. 97

Lia lived with their mother for a short time before she died. Laurie remembers asking Lia (who was visiting Laurie via astral projection) to tell her about their mother. Lia tells her that their mother never smiled because the world had been cruel to her. In her telling, Laurie says Lia creates "some sort of fairy tale from another place and time." Laurie can't recall Lia's precise words but remembers it this way:

There was once a young Navajo girl, Lia said, so lovely that all the men in her village wanted to wed her, and she was married at the age of thirteen to the son of the Chief. So, without having known girlhood, she settled down to being a wife. Then one day when she was seventeen, the same age we are now, a trader came through the village in a pickup truck buying turquoise and silver jewelry. He was handsome and fair-complexioned with hair the color of sunshine, and the girl took one look at him and fell violently in love. He asked her to come away with him. She told him that was impossible. But suddenly, when she realized that he was really leaving, she climbed into the cab beside him and rode away with him, leaving everything she owned behind in her husband's hogan. 

"I belong to you now," she told the trader. "I will love you and stay beside you until the day I die."

But the trader was a casual man who was used to willing girls and good times, and after several months with his Indian maiden he grew tired of her. 

"Go back to your people," he said. "That's where you belong."

"I can't," the girl told him. "My husband would never take me back. Besides, I am going to bear your child."

"That's your problem, not mine," said the trader.

She thought he was joking. But that night he did not come home to her. She sat for three days in their apartment, waiting, until finally she had to realize that he had left her. In the top drawer of his bureau she found an envelope with money in it and a note that told her to put the baby up for adoption. Enclosed was the address of the Hastings Agency.

The "baby" turned out to be twin girls with the trader's fine feathers. They had lighter skin than their mother's, but had inherited her hair and eyes. Obeying the instructions in the note, the young mother took them to the agency, but because they were of mixed blood they were classified as "hard to place." 

"Won't your family help you raise them?" the director, Mrs. Hastings, asked. "The Navajo people always take care of their own."

The girl explained that she could not return to the reservation with half-breed children.

"The people would drive me out," she said. "I am married to the son of the Chief."

Laurie's telling of the conversation with Lia continues, with Lia describing their mother's attempts to raise her alone. They lived in one low-cost apartment after another, and that their mother supported them by cleaning houses. Sometimes she'd take Lia to them. They were beautiful. At the end of the day, Lia and their mother would go back to their apartment, eat, and go to bed. She was miserable. She'd imagine the ocean, that their mother had seen when she went searching for the trader. Laurie asks when she had time to do that, and Lia told her that their mother would just lie still on the bed and "go." Laurie realizes that their mother also had the power to do astral projection. One place she looked for the trader was in California because Indian jewelry was in demand there. 

Debbie's Comments

In Lia's story to Laurie, we see outsider writing. Duncan has a Navajo character--Lia--speaking about their origin but she sounds like a white girl telling a European fairy tale. "There was once" as the opener kicks it off. It continues with notions of beauty making a Navajo person much-desired by others. And what the heck... Lia uses "Indian maiden"? That grates! And, being married at thirteen? Jean Craighead George did that, too, in Julie of the Wolves. 

White traders did go through Native communities, buying items they would later sell and it is reasonable to think that Lia and Laurie's mother fell in love with one but I don't know about her calling her own children "half breed" and I don't know if "the people" would reject her. Calling them "the people" also grates. She's talking about her own community. Again--this is supposed to be a Native voice, but it sure doesn't sound like one to me. I also wonder about "the Chief." The Diné (Navajo) people use "chairman" to refer to their leader. The word "chief" was used to refer to Manuelito but that was in the 1800s. Duncan's "chief" sounds more like the romanticized kind of thing that outsiders come up with. 

****

Summing up: I read the whole book more than once to do this write up and analysis of significant passages in the Stranger With My Face. I think I've done all I need to. I wish Duncan had not depicted Laurie and Lia as Navajo. It wasn't necessary for a horror story about twins and astral projection. In fact, when a film version of it was made in 2009, Laurie and her sister are not Navajo. Have you seen the film? Was there a necklace in it that saves Laurie in the end? Objects do have significance, within any peoples' spirituality or its religious ways of being, but in this book, something that *might* be significant to Navajo people sounds more like holy water to me. In so many ways, this book fails. It is fiction, and people will defend it being on shelves because of that. I hope my "not recommended" label encourages some librarians to reconsider it.