Dear Mr. Arnold,
Thank you for responding to my critique of the "Cherokee" content in Mosquitoland. No doubt, many people in children's literature are thinking well of you for what you said, but the conversation cannot end there.
With Mim and her "war paint," you--inadvertently--are doing what generations of Native people have fought against for hundreds of years.
Misrepresentations of Indigenous peoples are of such magnitude that, in 2008, the United Nations issued its Declaration of the Rights of Indigenous Peoples. There are studies of the harm that misrepresentations do to Native and non-Native youth. In 2005, the American Psychological Association issued a statement about stereotyping. Last year, the National Congress of American Indians issued a report on this matter (NCAI's first national campaign took place in 1968).
Yesterday (March 12 2015), I read the USA Today review of Mosquitoland. I trust you did, too. I hope you cringed at the lead. For those who didn't see the review, here's a screen capture of the opening lines:
See "slap on some war paint" in the first line of the review? That is what a major newspaper honed in on: "war paint' and how it can get you through the day. Let's look at what Mim does when she puts on her "war paint" (Kindle Locations 694-697):
I start with the left cheek, always. This habit is king, and it must be exactly the same, line for line. The first stroke is a two-sided arrow, the point of which touches the bridge of my nose. Then, a broad horizontal line across the forehead. The third stroke is an arrow on my right cheek, mirroring the first one. Next, a thick line down the middle of my face, from the top of my forehead to the bottom of my chin. And lastly, a dot inside both arrows.
Now let's look at the finished image, from the trailer for the book:
As you know, Mr. Arnold, people are praising
Mosquitoland for its look at mental illness, medications, and Mim's perseverance.
Few people (in reviews or on social media), however, are talking about the stereotypical imagery you deployed for Mim's perseverance. That "war paint" gets her "through the day" (as the
USA Today reporter said). Let's look at some of that "war paint" and how it is used to get fans through a game.
This is the mascot at Florida State:
This was the mascot at the University of Illinois. Though it is officially retired, fans continue to paint their faces in the ways that the mascot did:
Here's fans of the Cleveland baseball team:
Here's a fan of the Washington pro football team:
Those four individuals--and thousands of others--stood in front of a mirror, just like Mim did, and picked up the items they used for their "war paint" as they got ready to rally their team against a foe.
I suspect you had none of this in mind as you wrote those words above, describing how Mim puts on her "war paint" or when you and your fellow author (the woman portraying Mim) worked on the trailer. I watched that trailer on your website. It is gone from there, now. I hope you took it down in response to my review. If that is why you took it down, I think I'm right in saying (above) that I hope you cringed as you read what the
USA Today reviewer said about war paint.
The question is: what to do now?
In my response to your comment, I suggested that you talk with editors and other writers about stereotyping. Looks like you ought to add others to that list, too. I realize this is awkward. How does an author say "this was probably not a good idea" without hurting the sales of your book? I'm well aware that my criticism leads people to buy the book to see what you did for themselves, thereby elevating its sales, which suggests to the industry that people want MORE books like it.
We definitely need more books about the mental health of young people, but not ones like
Mosquitoland that add to the problems of Native people, who--like those with mental health--are misunderstood and denigrated in far too many places.
Given the widespread praise of your book and the fact that you've sold your second book already, I think you actually have a secure platform from which to educate others about the problems in using tribal peoples as you did. You're getting requests for interviews; please use those interviews to educate your readers. I read that there is a possibility for
Mosquitoland to become a movie. Please use whatever power you have to keep that stereotyping out of the script.
This, Mr. Arnold, is an opportunity to educate others.
Sincerely,
Debbie
Some
weeks ago, I saw a screencapture (that's it to the right) from the video trailer for David Arnold's
Mosquitoland. In it, his protagonist, Mim (her given name is Mary), is putting on her "war paint."
About one third of the way into the book, we learn that Mim thinks of herself as Cherokee. Her mom, we learn, is the source of her Cherokee identity. In a letter to her aunt Isabel, Mim tells Isabel that her mom told her to (Kindle Location 1161)*:
“Have a vision, Mary, unclouded by fear.”
That, we read, is an old Cherokee proverb (Kindle Locations 1163-1164):
that her mom told her, and hers before that, and so on and so forth, all the way back to the original Cherokee woman who coined the phrase.
An old Cherokee proverb? Where, I wondered, did the author find that proverb? Why, and what, does he know about Cherokees? I did a search and found "Have a vision not clouded by fear" on several websites of "inspirational stories" and books of that genre. I've traced it to
A Cherokee Feast of Days: Daily Meditations by Joyce Sequichie Hifler. She attributes the proverb to "a Cherokee leader." The title suggests that the meditations are Cherokee but some of them are from people of other tribal nations. Sometimes Hifler includes that nation, sometimes she doesn't. Did Arnold read Hifler's book, I wonder? Or did he find it elsewhere? If you're reading this, Mr. Arnold, please let us know.
Mim tells Isabel (in the letter) that she's so proud of her Cherokee heritage that she (Kindle Location 1166-1170):
started lying about the degree of Cherokee blood in my veins. I was something like one-sixteenth, but honestly, who wasn’t, right? So I claimed one quarter. It just sounded more legit. I was young, still in middle school, so I went with it the way kids that age do. The more admiration this garnered from teachers and friends, the closer I felt to my ancient ancestry, my kinswomen, my tribe. But the truth will out, as they say. In my case, this outing took on the sound of my mother’s unending laughter in the face of my principal, when he told her the school was going to present me with a plaque of merit at the next pep rally: the Native American Achievement Award.
There's a lot to unpack in that passage. Mim clearly knows something about blood quantum, and "who wasn't, right?" tells us that she knows that a lot of people say they're Cherokee. So, she thinks it sounds "more legit" if she says she's "one quarter" rather than "one-sixteenth." That tells us that she is not knowledgeable about Cherokee citizenship. On the
Cherokee Nation website's page about citizenship, the very first line is this:
Cherokee Nation citizenship does not require a specific blood quantum.
Because her mom laughed at the principal when he wanted to present Mim with the Native American Achievement Award, my guess is that neither Mim or her mom know anything at all about citizenship or Cherokees, either. That Mim would feel close to her "ancient ancestry" suggests to me that she is operating with a romantic idea of "Cherokee" identity. She could have said Ojibwe. Or, Pueblo. The tribe itself doesn't matter. And why did her mom laugh? Was she laughing at the principal for thinking Mim had done something worthy of an award? Or was she laughing that the principal believed Mim's claim of one-quarter Cherokee blood?
Mim continues in her letter (Kindle Locations 1171-1173):
Needless to say, I never received the award. But even today, there are times— most notably when I wear my war paint— when I really feel that Cherokee blood coursing through my veins, no matter its percentage of purity. So from whatever minutia of my heart that pumps authentic Cherokee blood, I pass this phrase along to you: have a vision, unclouded by fear.
Why did she not get the award? Her words tell us that she makes a connection between Cherokee blood and that phrase. Cherokee blood and courage go together. Or as I said earlier, the Cherokee part doesn't matter. It could be a different tribe.
Mim's letter continues (Kindle Locations 1174-1175):
Not sure what made me think of all this Cherokee stuff. Maybe it’s the plethora of cowboy hats and boots I’ve seen today. Politically correct? Probably not. BUT I’M ONE-SIXTEENTH CHEROKEE, SO SUCK IT.
I assume her "politically correct" question is there for someone who would say 'hold on there' to all that she's shared about her Cherokee identity. She seems to be wondering if what she shared is/is not "politically correct" but the capitalized text tells us that because she is 1/16 Cherokee, she can say whatever she wants. She closes her letter to Isabel by sharing another "Cherokee proverb" (Kindle Locations 1177-1178):
When you were born, you cried while the world rejoiced. Live your life so that when you die, the world cries while you rejoice.
I found that "proverb" in
Who Will Cry When You Die by Robin Sharma. In that book, it is described as being an "Ancient Sanskrit saying." Sharma also describes it as something his father said to him. I don't find the phrase anywhere as something said by a Cherokee. So again, I wonder where David Arnold found that phrase?
Mim signs her letter as "Chieftess Iris Malone." Later, she calls herself a "War-Crazed Cherokee Chieftess." And then towards the end of the book she's in her mother's bedroom. She picks up the lipstick and wonders (Kindle Locations 3397-3403):
What would it be like if she walked in the room right now? If she found me painting my face like some politically incorrect Cherokee chieftess? What would I tell her? The truth, I hope. That in my longing for originality and relational honesty and a hundred other I-don’t-know-whats, this action, while strange and socially awkward, makes more sense than just about anything else in my world. And even though it’s cryptic and more than a little odd, sometimes cryptic and odd are better than lying down for the Man. Maybe I would tell her how the war paint helped get me through a time when I felt like no one else cared about what I wanted, or who I was. Maybe I could muster the courage to speak those words so few people are able to say: I don’t know why I do the things I do. It’s like that sometimes.
Mim knows that what she's been doing with the lipstick is not ok. She tells us that the war paint she does is cryptic and odd, but that it has helped her when she felt alone. Does the strength she gains from doing that justify it?
As I write, Arnold's
Mosquitoland is listed as a bestseller in three categories at Amazon: Marriage and Divorce (in the teen category and the children's books category, too) and it is listed in the #2 spot for Depression & Mental Illness.
No doubt, its publisher, editor, and author are delighted. I would love to join them in that delight, but I can't. Arnold's book is touching the hearts of many readers, but it is also adding to, or affirming their misunderstandings of who Cherokee people are. Or, maybe they recognize that the Cherokee parts are not ok but they see something of themselves in Mim, so they're willing to look away from the Cherokee parts.
It is troubling to me that, in a book about young people who struggle with mental health, people are willing to look away from the problematic Cherokee parts in
Mosquitoland. Would they do that if they knew that
Native youth commit suicide at higher rates than any other group in the country? I am not saying books like
Mosquitoland that misrepresent Native life are causes of suicide, but surely, misrepresentations don't help anyone feel good about themselves, do they?
In an
interview about his book, the reporter asked him about criticism "from at least one Native American on Twitter" about the war paint. I assume the reporter had
my earlier critique in mind. Arnold says that the criticism kept him up at night, but that he stands by the book, "for many reasons." Those reasons aren't included in the interview. He also says that:
"...in this broader conversation about diversity in literature, as a straight, white male, oftentimes it's going to be my role to sit down, to be quiet, to listen and to learn. If there are things I can learn from people I've offended, that's exactly what I want to do. I want to be a better writer and I want to be a more sensitive human. I'm completely willing to have these conversations, for sure. Mim makes a lot of questionable decisions, but across the board I felt the need to be completely authentic to her character."
What he says about being willing to have conversations is puzzling to me. On January 26, I tweeted at him:
I also tweeted this:
Soon after I sent those tweets, I was asked if he'd replied to me. I went to his Twitter page and saw this:
The tiny print says "You are blocked from following @roofbeam and viewing @roofbeam's Tweets." I was surprised. Why did he do that? Was it my use of "WTF" in that second tweet? Or, was it that there were two tweets? Or three? A couple of days later, I read @donalynbooks tweet (she praised
Mosquitoland) and I tweeted at her (and Arnold), asking her if she had any thoughts on the warpaint in the book. She didn't reply.
I posted my initial post on
Mosquitoland to my Facebook wall. Here's a sampling of the comments.
A Native poet said:
That "warpaint" idea is kind of appalling and creeped me out.
A Cherokee writer/storyteller said:
Sigh. Just once I wish they would pick on someone else!
A Cherokee librarian wrote:
slowly bangs head against desktop...
A Cherokee writer said:
Part Cherokee, huh? Which part?
I think any of those individuals, in addition to myself, would be interested in having that conversation you referenced in the interview, Mr. Arnold. I can't tweet this to you (because I'm blocked) but I trust that someone will share this post with you.
_________________
*I used the cut/paste option in Kindle for excerpts I used in this post. Each time I did it, an automatic citation was generated. Here is the citation: Arnold, David (2015-03-03).
Mosquitoland. Penguin Young Readers Group. Kindle Edition.
A few days ago,
I wrote about the ways that Amazon is using a snippet of
School Library Journal's review of David Arnold's
Mosquitoland, due out this year
. In contrast, Barnes and Noble uses the entire review. The reviewer, Angie Manfredi, pointed to Arnold's use of lipstick as "warpaint" and noted that the protagonist is "part Cherokee."
Today (January 26, 2015), David Arnold tweeted the photograph to the right as part of a hashtag started by Gayle Forman. I take it to be his way of showing us his protagonist in her "warpaint."
Mr. Arnold? Did you imagine a Native reader of your book? Did it occur to you that this "warpaint" would be problematic? I see that this is the person in the book trailer. In it, she is shown putting on this "warpaint." How did the particular "warpaint" design come about?!
The
book trailer ends with "Mim Malone is not ok." What you have her doing is not ok either.
