New this year (2015) is Richard Van Camp's graphic novel, The Blue Raven. Illustrated by Steven Keewatin Sanderson, the story is about a stolen bicycle, and, healing. Here's the cover:
The bike, named Blue Raven, belongs to a kid named Benji. He comes out of the library (how cool is that?) and his bike is gone (not cool!). Trevor, the older brother of a kid in his class, sees Benji and offers to help him find the bike.
This isn't just any bike (no bike is, really), but this one? Benji's dad gave it to him when he moved out of their house.
When Benji was born, his dad called him Tatso because his eyes were the same blue color as a baby raven's eyes. Tatso is a
Tlicho word. It means Blue Raven. And--it is the name his dad called the bike, too.
As you might imagine, it is very special to Benji.
We learn all that--and more--as Benji and Trevor drive around on Trevor's four-wheeler, looking for the bike. Trevor is Metis, but wasn't raised with Native traditions in the same way that Benji was. Indeed, there is a moment when Trevor mocks Benji. Confident in what he knows and bolstered by memories of time with members of the community, Benji counters Trevor, who is taken aback and a bit snarky. By the end of this short graphic novel, though, Trevor is with Benji at a gathering where Trevor is invited to dance and the two have agreed to keep looking for the Blue Raven.
Steven Keewatin Sanderson's illustrations are terrific! From anger over his bike being stolen, to the tears Benji sheds in the flashback parts of the story, to the community scenes at the drum dance, they are a perfect match for Van Camp's story. Keep an eye out for his work!
The Blue Raven, published in 2015 by Pearson, is part of its Well Aware series and sold as a package. However, it can be
purchased directly from Richard Van Camp at his site. I highly recommend it.
Sometimes I read a children's book and start digging in a bit to do a review, and I find that my heart is soaring, and that I'm sitting here with a grin on my face. That is how I feel, writing this blog post, about Carole Lindstrom's Girls Dance, Boys Fiddle.
Her story is about a girl named Metisse who doesn't want to dance. She wants to fiddle! Here's the cover of the book:
Her mom and dad, her brother, kids at school... they all tell her she can't fiddle. Girls, they say, have to dance. Her mom is teaching her how, and, gives her the shawl Memere (her grandma) wore when she first did the Butterfly Dance. Her mom wore it, too. Now, it is Metisse's turn to wear it.
But, Metisse struggles. She can't move her feet right. She's much happier when she's playing the fiddle with Pepere (her grandfather). Look at the cover. That's Pepere teaching her how to fiddle. She's learning how to play the Red River Jig. Obviously, he thinks it is just fine that she plays the fiddle.
As you might guess, it will turn out ok in the end.
Metis culture is part of every page. I imagine some of you are wondering why Metis people would be doing a jig, or, playing fiddles! The final page of
Girls Dance Boys Fiddle has an explanation:
Metis fiddle music is a blend of Scottish, French and Aboriginal influences that began in the early fur trade days in Canada.
The website for the
Metis Nation has additional information about who they are:
The advent of the fur trade in west central North America during the 18th century was accompanied by a growing number of mixed offspring of Indian women and European fur traders. As this population established distinct communities separate from those of Indians and Europeans and married among themselves, a new Aboriginal people emerged - the Métis people - with their own unique culture, traditions, language (Michif), way of life, collective consciousness and nationhood.
I like
Girls Dance, Boys Fiddle because it is set in the present day, and because as I read it, I was swept into the story and curious to know more about the Red River Jig. So--I searched for videos and found a great many on YouTube. Here's a video of Metis kids, jigging. You gotta watch it to the end. At the end, the three-year-old appropriately acknowledges the fiddlers (and his dancing is cool, too):
Did you happen to see the woman with the fiddle? Go ahead--watch the video again. She's toward the end.
When, in the story, Metisse starts to fiddle at the gathering, her grandparents jump up and start dancing.
That page stole my heart! It made me think of the many times I saw my grandparents or parents jump up to dance together. I found lots of videos of Metis people jigging, but click over and watch
Elder's Jigging Contest 2011 New Yr's. It looks like such fun!
Thanks, Carole, for this delightful story.
American Indians in Children's Literature highly recommends
Girls Dance, Boys Fiddle, written by Carole Lindstrom, illustrated by Kimberly McKay, published in 2013 by
Pemmican Publications, Inc.
With immense satisfaction and a deep sigh, I read the last words in Louise Erdrich's Chickadee and then gazed at the cover. Chickadee is the fourth book in her Birchbark House series, launched in 1999.
My copy arrived yesterday afternoon and I immediately began reading--but not racing--through
Chickadee, because it is written with such beauty, power, and elegance that I knew I'd reach the end and wish I could go on, reading about Omakayas and her eight-year-old twin boys, Chickadee and Makoons.
There was delight as Erdrich reintroduced Omakayas and Old Tallow, and when she introduced a man in a black robe, I felt a knot in my belly as I wondered how Erdrich would tell her young readers about missionaries.
The sadness I felt reading about smallpox in
Birchbark House gripped me, too, as did the anger at those who called us savage and pagan.
Resilience, though, and the strength of family and community is woven throughout
Chickadee. I'll provide a more in-depth analysis later. For now, I want to bask in the words and stories that Louise Erdrich gives to us
Chickadee and throughout the Birchbark House series.
You can
order a signed copy of Chickadee from Birchbark Books. And if you don't have the first three books in the series, order them, too.
Reading one of Louise's books--especially this series--is an occasion to celebrate, a time to stop, and sit down, and savor every turn of phrase. I look forward to receiving this one from Birchbark Books. Thank you, Louise, you are a gift.