Deselect that Squaw!

March 23 - Today's post provided by Debbie Reese

Deselect that Squaw!

How’s that for a provocative title? What I mean is that I want to see some solidarity amongst women, with the actions of that solidarity ones in which librarians deselect a children’s book that uses “squaw” as the word for woman.

Let me elaborate.

I’m a Pueblo Indian woman born into a specific Pueblo Indian tribe: Nambe. Our language is Tewa. If I wrote a young adult novel that included our word for woman, I’d use kwee. If I were writing a novel about one of the north Eastern tribal nations that speak Algonkian, I’d use squa or skwa or skwe. Those words, Abenaki scholar Marge Bruchac writes, mean “the totality of being female.”

“Oh!” you may be thinking, “then why do you want us to deselect novels with ‘squaw’ in them?”

Let’s think about the word and how it is used.

Do you remember the scene in Disney’s Peter Pan where Peter, Wendy, and the Lost Boys sing What Makes the Red Man Red? Stereotypes abound in attire, actions, and speech! The scene opens with Tiger Lily, her dad, and Peter sitting cross-legged. Of course, they wear headdresses. Tiger Lily’s dad says “Teach-em paleface brother all about red man.” John exclaims that this will be “most enlightening.” One of the boys asks, “What makes the red man red?” Another asks, “When did he first say ugh” and another asks, “Why does he ask you ‘how.’

In spite of John’s expectation, this is not an enlightening moment for anyone. It captures and affirms several stereotypes of American Indians that, unfortunately, pass as “knowledge.”

In answer to the questions, the Indians sing “What makes the red man red,” beating drums with bare hands (that’s an error, too!), uttering war-whoops (stereotype!) as they dance frenetically (stereotype!).

Wendy jumps up to dance, too, but a large Indian woman stops her, saying “Squaw no dance. Squaw get-um fire wood.” Therein lies the problem with the word. It has taken on an undesirable and derogatory connotation as a drudge. Children don’t tune in to the sexualization of Tiger Lily in that clip, but the rape and exploitation of Native women is something we contend with today. Native people fought for the reauthorization of the Violence Against Women Act, and celebrated its passage earlier this month.

 

Barrie’s original story about Peter Pan, published in 1900, used “squaw” as a derogatory word. James Fenimore Cooper used it, too, in Last of the Mohicans, first published in 1826. The devaluing of Native women, however, goes all the way back to John Smith, who characterized Native men as idle savages whose women did all the hard work. These Eurocentric characterizations were erroneous, but gained traction for Europeans who used them to justify colonization.

In fact, Indigenous women had—and have—a great deal of power. Check out The Hidden Half: Studies of Plains Indian Women (1983) by Patricia Albers and Beatrice Medicine and The Sacred Hoop: Recovering the Feminine in American Indian Traditions (1986) by Paula Gunn Allen.

That power, however, is hidden when we ask children to read books like Elizabeth George Speare’s 1983 Newbery winner Sign of the Beaver. In it, Attean—a Native boy—views Native women as squaws whose work is beneath him. Matt—the European boy—thinks Attean is wrong to view women in that way. Speare’s book reflects that desire to justify colonization of Indigenous lands and peoples, and that’s why I ask librarians to deselect that squaw. It misrepresents Native women.

Let’s get rid of misleading books like Sign of the Beaver. You can deselect it using the CREW method of weeding your library.  There are better choices available that accurately portray Native women and girls and our languages in past and present contexts. Here are a few suggestions.

Dine (Navajo) artist Beverly Blacksheep has a beautiful series of bilingual board books. From Baby’s First Laugh through Baby Learns about Weather, we learn about Navajo culture as the little girl at the heart of the series learns words, numbers, colors and so on. The text is in English and Navajo. You can get these board books from Salina Bookshelf.

Two outstanding picture books are Cheryl Savageau’s Muskrat Will Be Swimming, and Cynthia Leitich Smith’s Jingle Dancer. Both are written by Native women, and both feature a young Native girl. Savageau’s protagonist, Jeannie, is being teased at school. Her flagging self esteem is galvanized by listening to her grandfather tell her about Skywoman. In Smith’s Jingle Dancer, the protagonist, Jenna, is going to do the jingle dance for the first time at an upcoming pow wow. Her grandmother, an aunt, and a neighbor woman all play a key role in getting her ready.

Moving up to chapter books, check out Louise Erdrich’s award-winning series of historical fiction. You’ll love the women in it, too. With seven-year Omakayas kicking it off in Birchbark House (the first of four books), you’ll read about a family and tribal nation as they live their daily lives, all the while contending with people who want their lands. Erdrich is a gifted writer who handles those tensions beautifully and honestly, without demonizing anyone.  Birchbark House was the first one, followed by Game of Silence, Porcupine Year, and Chickadee.

For middle school readers, I highly recommend another book by Cynthia Leitich Smith. Her Rain Is Not My Indian Name has a Native protagonist dealing with first love, and loss, too. Through it all, her Native heritage shines through.

To round off my recommendations, pick up Louise Erdrich’s The Round House for high school students. Though not marketed to a youth audience, it works well for older students. Released this year, it is an insider’s look at the violence Native women face and the difficulties in pressing charges on perpetrators of that violence. In this case, the protagonist is the adult Joe, looking back on something from his early teen years. The story is about his mom being raped. It isn’t gratuitous in detail or description, and readers learn a lot about Native law as they travel alongside Joe and his family, trying to figure out the rapist’s identity and the jurisdiction issues involved. 

You can order Muskrat Will Be Swimming, and Jingle Dancer, and all of Louise Erdrich’s books from her bookstore in Minneapolis: Birchbark Books.

I opened this essay asking you to consider deselecting a specific book from your library shelves. If you do, you’ll have room on your shelves for books that accurately portray Native women. Buying the books I recommend sends a powerful message to publishers. We want, and need, books that provide us with real Native women. I hope you’ll order copies of the books I recommended. Send the publishers that message, and stand in solidarity with Native women. 

Debbie Reese is tribally enrolled at Nambe Pueblo, a federally recognized tribal nation in northern New Mexico. Born at an Indian Hospital and raised on the reservation, Debbie is a former school teacher and professor who publishes American Indians in Children's Literature. (link: http://americanindiansinchildrensliterature.net). Her articles and book chapters appear in publications read by teachers, librarians, and professors in schools of Education, Library Science, and English. 

Red Bird Sings: The Story of Zitkala-Sa and Book Giveaway!

March 20 - Today's post provided by Gina Capaldi

Twenty some odd years ago, I came across the work of Gertrude Simmons Bonnin, Native American author and musician. Published by the Atlantic Monthly Magazine in 1900, her serialized stories appeared under the pen name, Zitkala Sa. To this day they captivate me as none other.  Her tales are of a young girl who was sent from her home on the Yankton Reservation to attend a Quaker boarding school. After graduating from college she become a teacher, and finally an author. The experiences Zitkala Sa shared about her passage from Yankton life to Anglo society were often as heart wrenching as they were riveting. It was not, however, until I began researching another book, A Boy Named Beckoning: the True Story of Dr. Carlos Montezuma (Lerner/Carolrhoda, 2009), that I was reminded of Gertrude Simmons Bonnin, not as Zitkala Sa, but as a young woman in love with a Yavapai doctor and activist.

Gertrude Bonnin

Following this tidbit of information, I discovered that Zitkala Sa as the first American Indian to write an opera, and that she was also a powerful activist who championed the rights of her people.  The opportunity to write and publish a story about Gertrude Simmons Bonnin came along when Jean Reynolds, my editor for A Boy Named Beckoning, asked if I was familiar with Zitkala Sa. Was I ever!

The possibility of writing a picturebook encouraged me to recruit my co-author, Q. L. Pearce. Her knowledge and passion about Native American cultures, her divine writing gift, attention to detail, and consummate professionalism helped to bring the manuscript to fruition. By the end of 2009 Q and I were steeped in research searching for the full, rich details of Gertrude Simmons’ life that would enable us to create the picturebook, Red Bird Sings: The Story of Zitkala Sa (Lerner/Carolrhoda, 2010). 

We used several of Gertrude’s serialized stories from the Atlantic Monthly Magazine  (Impressions of an Indian Childhood, The School Days of an Indian Girl, and An Indian Teacher Among Indians) to build the framework for our picturebook.  We discovered that she had not intended her stories to merely entertain but to enlighten Anglo society. Writing as Zitkala-Sa (Red Bird), she presented her readers with thought provoking and often disturbing snapshots of her life, and that of other Native Americans trapped in the massive experiment of American Indian assimilation and its consequences. Many historians believe, however, that Gertrude’s stories were only semi-autobiographical and not entirely factual.

Our goal was to tell the true story of Gertrude's life so we set about weeding through the misinformation and confirming the facts through scholarship. We began our research at Brigham Young University, Marriott Library, which houses the Gertrude and Raymond Simmons archives. From these we were able to outline Gertrude's life on the Ute Reservation, her family life, her work on the Sundance Opera and her collaboration with another musician, William Hansen. We also discovered the depth of her personal commitment to her people that inspired her activism from Utah to Washington, DC.  From the Carlisle Indian Industrial School Archives, we were able to chronicle Gertrude's association with the school before and after teaching. The information garnered from these archives also revealed how she began to write her Atlantic Monthly series, and how the stories were viewed by her employer, Captain Richard Pratt.  We also approached Earlham College librarians who generously supplied us with massive copies of articles, report cards, writings published in their school newspaper, and much more. It was a tremendous amount of information to go through, but each document helped us to weave the story of Gertrude's life. Finally, we looked to individual historians who generously helped us fill in the missing details and identify any misinformation about Gertrude Simmons Bonnin.

Our second hurdle was what to choose which of Gertrude’s stories could best represent her point of view in a 32-page picturebook.  She wrote in the late 1800's and was published in the first part of the 20th century. Her stunning prose is dense and her language may be difficult for a young reader. Hoping to simplify the style while maintaining the spirit of Zitkala Sa’s work, we chose to modernize her language enough to make it more accessible to a young audience and so introduce them to her powerful story.

We used the images in the book to give readers a further sense of the time and place in which Gertrude lived. By incorporating collage elements we were able to add historical and emotional depth. For example, newspaper clippings and maps added historical information, and pressed flowers and grasses native to Gertrude’s homeland expanded the sense of setting. Perhaps one of the most profound collage elements was our use of real hair in the cover and leading page images.  In Gertrude’s culture shorn locks were a sign of mourning or cowardice. The dramatic cutting of her hair caused Gertrude to experience fear, humiliation and shame. The reality of the clipped hair in the art added to the drama of the spread.

Overall, the life of Gertrude Simmons Bonnin is one of bravery, determination and devotion. In spite of the loss, discrimination and self-doubt she faced, she succeeded and went on to fight for her people. Red Bird Sings is an American Indian story and the story of a woman whose great courage enabled her to reach a global audience and bring about change for those suffering in an oppressive system. We are proud to be a part of bringing that story to a new generation of young readers.

Giveaway:  Would you like to win an autographed copy of Red Bird Sings?  If so, please leave a comment below!  The winner will be chosen at random.  

Editor's Note:  Gina Capaldi has both written and illustrated award-winning books that include nonfiction, educational and picture books, including A Boy Named Beckoning: The True Story of Dr. Carlos Montezuma, Native American Hero (Carolrhoda/Lerner, 2008).  She is also a certified fine arts appraiser and has honed her other professional arts skills with credits in film editing and video graphics.   She has previously worked as an illustrator, product developer and designer for an international manufacturing company.

A Q&A with Deborah Kogan Ray: Sarah Winnemucca, Paiute Princess

March 19 - Today's post provided by Julie Danielson of Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast

Recently, I had the pleasure of reading an early copy (an uncorrected proof, to be exact) of author/illustrator Deborah Kogan Ray’s newest picture book biography, Paiute Princess: The Story of Sarah Winnemucca, to be released by Farrar Straus Giroux/Frances Foster Books in May of this year.

And though we’re a couple months away from the book’s release, I knew I wanted to use this opportunity to ask Deborah some questions about her research and her thoughts on the subject of the book, a nineteenth-century member of the Northern Paiute tribe of Nevada, who very much existed in both the traditional world of her people as a child but then the world of white settlers as an adult. (The white men called her “Princess Sarah.”) Sarah became a controversial educator and activist, traveling the U.S. to lecture about the travails of the Paiute people, and she became the first Native American woman to publish a book in English (1883).

 I find that both Sarah and Deborah are good fits for a blog celebrating the achievements of women: Sarah sought justice for her people and demanded they be treated with dignity. Deborah has written and/or illustrated over seventy books for children, many biographies of lesser-known figures. At this interview over at Embracing the Child, she once stated, “Strange as it may sound, my subjects find me. I never consciously think about what would make a good topic or whose life history should be told. I recognize a kindred spirit in the people I write about, something that is part of me.”
I thank Deborah for taking the time to answer some questions about this upcoming release.

Jules: Sarah Winnemucca is someone whose story isn't often told in history texts. What made you want to tell her story?

Deborah: I ‘discovered’ Sarah Winnemucca when I was doing research for a book that I was illustrating about the Oregon Trail. An anthology that I was using for reference, Women of the West, included a short bio about her role as a crusader for her people’s rights and a few quotes from her book Life Among the Paiutes – the first autobiography written by a Native American woman.
At the time, I thought, what a remarkable woman – we should all know more about her. But other books and projects intervened – for 20 years. I’ve always said my subjects for biographies find me. And some ideas don’t go away. 

When I finally read Sarah Winnemucca’s autobiography in its entirety, I knew I wanted to tell her story for children. The story of the west has historically been told from the white, and usually male, point of view. Few native women are recognized for their roles in our country’s history. Among them, Sarah is unique. Pocahontas and Sacagawea both lived in times and places where the white man was a powerless stranger in a strange land, dependent on their help for survival. Sarah Winnemucca, by contrast, faced a world where the fate of the native people was in the hands of the new rulers of the land.

Life Among the Paiutes remains an important document, as both an autobiography and a history of events seen through eyes of a native woman. Sarah Winnemucca’s story is one that children should know.

Jules: Tell me about your research for this book.

Deborah: In one word: endless. I began writing and researching in early 2008, and we were still copyediting the material until the book went to press in late 2011.

In the book I use Sarah’s words and point of view to tell the story with an accompanying narrative for description of historical events. Using autobiography as story basis is a balancing act---most of us try to present ourselves in the best way possible---and Sarah’s book was intended to convince people of the justice of her cause. Plus, it was written from memory.

Everything had to be checked and double-checked for accuracy. My wonderful, ever patient editor, Frances Foster, was inundated by paper. As was I: My office overflowed with clippings from ancient newspaper files about Sarah (as despicable and demeaning as anything you can imagine), copies of her letters, my notes from interviews: plus maps, photos, reference books, pictorial documentation, etc. In a time when copyediting has too often become casual, the FSG copy editors demand proof of everything from several sources!

Jules: There are very intense moments in Sarah's life story---such as, being buried in the dirt as a child with a sage bush covering her face in order to escape white men, as well as the surprise 1865 attack at Mud Lake, where people were burned alive---which you convey so honestly in this biography. Were these moments challenging to render via your paintbrush?

Deborah: How to deal with painful imagery is always a challenge. Because Sarah’s descriptions of the events are so powerful and situations so frightening, as the illustrator I chose to draw back -- rather than graphically show the horror.

In the illustration of Sarah’s burial I chose to use both color (the yellow burning sun sky) and the figures of Sarah’s aunt and mother bent over the helpless girls as they bury them. The women’s physical gestures convey their panic. Though seen from behind, we know that they are literally clawing the sand.

For the massacre scene, we know from the text that they are throwing babies in fire, but I don’t show them. I use shapes and color. Dark shapes of barely discernible bodies and baskets in the foreground: the red raging fire with soldiers seen through the toxic looking smoke. I want the reader/viewer to absorb the situation through his/her own skin.

Jules: What did you learn about Sarah, while researching, that most surprised you?

Deborah: As a biographer, one has to get to know every aspect of their character – the good and bad, the serious and humorous. Without the nuance, you have a cardboard figure.

There were many surprising things about Sarah, starting with her incredible use of language, both written and spoken. Besides being a passionate advocate, she had really wicked tongue, and great sense humor.

She was also a show woman, whether on the stage or on the parade ground of a fort. I read several accounts of her dramatic displays of her skills as a horsewoman: riding sidesaddle, dressed to kill in fancy riding habits that she created, wowing the infatuated young officers. It was such a great image that, though I don’t mention the information in the book, I used the description for my illustration of when she was at Camp McDermitt.

Jules: What's next for you? Working on any books now you can tell me about?

Deborah: Right now my energy is focused on making sure people hear about Paiute Princess. That will be released in May. I have several proposals that I am working on, plus a couple that are out at publishers for consideration.

These are not golden days for non-fiction. School budgets have been cut. No one knows what will happen with bookstore sales or e-books. There is great fear from publishers about taking “chances.” Hopefully, things will change for the better….

My truly exciting news is [that] I’ve finally cleaned up my studio and office: the surfaces are ‘practically’ pristine since the staggering piles of “Sarah-bilia” were boxed and put away!

PAIUTE PRINCESS: THE STORY OF SARAH WINNEMUCCA. Copyright © 2012 by Deborah Kogan Ray. Published by Farrar, Straus and Giroux / Frances Foster Books, New York. All images posted with permission of Deborah Kogan Ray.

Editor's Note: Julie Danielson received her Master's degree in Information Sciences at The University of Tennessee in the U.S. She writes articles on children’s books and interviews their creators for Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast, a blog that focuses primarily on illustration and picture books. She also writes a weekly column on children’s literature for Kirkus Reviews and is currently working on a book with Elizabeth Bird and Peter D. Sieruta. Tentatively titled Wild Things!: The True, Untold Stories Behind the Most Beloved Children’s Books and Their Creators, it will be published by Candlewick Press in 2013. In 2011, she served as a jury member for the Society of Illustrators' Original Art award, and just this year she juried for the Bologna Children's Book Fair Ragazzi Awards. Her website is sevenimpossiblethings.org.