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The Birchbark House
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From: Beverly Slapin <oyate>
Date: Mon, 04 Oct 1999 20:33:02 +0000
Thank you, Eliza, for volunteering to facilitate this month's discussion. I am delighted to be a part of it, especially since <The Birchbark House>, which I read as an uncorrected proof a few months ago, has become one of my very favorites. This was a book that I could have easily read in one sitting, but chose to read it a chapter at a time, to put it down and reflect, to pick it up again, to savor it. <The Birchbark House>, like Omakayas herself, is thoughtful and strong; and I am happy that Louise is planning to write more about her and her family.
I would now like to share with you the review of that Doris Seale wrote for our next book, .
-----------------------------------------------"She was named Omakayas, or Little Frog, because her first step was a hop. She grew into a nimble young girl of seven winters, a thoughtful girl with shining brown eyes, and a wide grin, only missing her two front teeth. She touched her upper lip. She still wasn?t used to those teeth gone, and was impatient for her new, grown-up teeth to complete her smile."
With these few sentences, the child stands before us, not complete, but already someone we begin to know. Omakayas lives with her family on Moningwanaykaning island, in what is now called Lake Superior. <The Birchbark House> is the story of one year in her life, and it may be the single best book of its kind. Many and many non-Native children?s writers have attempted historical novels with an American Indian setting?from the outside. It is hard to think of even one that is successful. Erdrich writes from within: the culture, the historical memory of the events she chronicles, are from a real world, one that actually existed and is, still, the past out of which we come and have our being, and that will hold our future.
Omakayas? year is a time of growth, and joy, of lessons learned?some hard?and of tragedy and loss. It is a time when only the tribal and family bonds, the traditions of acceptance and caring, enable the people to hold together and come full circle, to another spring. For Omakayas, the year ends in a stunning revelation that shows her just how deep the love that holds the universe together goes.
Although it is very clear here that one child is not valued above another, it is also clear that Omakayas has gifts. She is growing into her life; there is the promise of who she may turn out to be. She is also an endearing little girl, with a very good heart. And it is hard to leave her. For all that it is so simply written, this is a rich and multi-layered work, with a strong sense of relationship, the "at-oneness with" of Native life, sometimes referred to as being "in tune with nature," which, of course, is not the same thing at all. Nor, Hornbook to the contrary, is this even remotely like the Laura Ingalls Wilder books.
is a strong and beautiful book, and it is highly recommended.
------------------------------------------------------I'd now like to comment briefly on some of the issues that have been raised here in the last few days.
Judy O'Malley wrote that "it seems a sad commentary that this may be the first story written for young readers that offers a close, compassionate view of an American Indian household with which children today can empathize as they do with the Little House books." There are many beautifully written stories I can think of that show a close, compassionate American Indian family. They include: by Lenore Keeshig-Tobias (Anishinabe), by Diane Johnston Hamm, by Joe Bruchac (Abenaki), by Joe Bruchac (Abenaki), by Louise Erdrich (Ojibwa),
by Kathleen Lacapa (Mohawk) and Michael Lacapa (Apache/Hopi/Tewa), by Jan Bourdeau Waboose (Ojibwa), by Cheryl Savageau
(Abenaki), by Shirley Sterling (Coast Salish),
by Ignatia Broker (Ojibwa), and <Northern Lights: The Soccer Trails> by Michael Arvaarluk Kusugak (Inuit). There are probably more; these are just the ones that quickly come to mind.
Saying that "children empathize with the books" assumes that "children"?as readers and students?means non-Native children, because Indian children are usually saddened and sickened the first time they have the misfortune to encounter the books and others of that ilk. Doris writes that, as a young child, she discovered the Laura Ingalls Wilder books in the library, and showed them to her dad. "Someway," she says, "I couldn't say just how he worked it, we didn't take any of them home that day." And it wasn't until she became an adult that she found out why: "The naked wild men stood by the fireplace.... Laura smelled a horrible bad smell.... Their faces were bold and fierce."
Another issue, one that Kathy Isaacs raised, needs to be addressed, and I will attempt to do that here.
from
it ld be e ople
This is the exact argument that Jean Feiwel, the publisher of Scholastic, uses to obfuscate what Ann Rinaldi has done in <My Heart Is on the Ground>.
Louise Erdrich, who is Ojibwa, has used the Ojibwa name of an Ojibwa child in a story that honors and respects Ojibwa children. When Louise says that she's "been told those old names should be given life," that means she has probably consulted with her elders in the telling of this story, and she tells this story from her heart, her spirit, and her life.
For Ann Rinaldi to copy the names of dead Indian children from the gravestones at the Carlisle Indian cemetery and use them as characters in her book dishonors and disrespects the children who died there. It is the coldest kind of appropriation I can think of, and epitomizes the utter lack of sensitivity and respect that characterizes the vast majority of children's books about Native peoples. I don't know?and don't care about?her intentions; her words speak for themselves.
I hope I haven't strayed too far from the topic; what I wanted to say was "chi migwetch, Louise, for this beautiful book."
Beverly
______________ Beverly Slapin Oyate 2702 Mathews St. Berkeley, CA 94702
(510) 848g00
(510) 848H15 fax oyate at oyate.org www.oyate.org
Received on Mon 04 Oct 1999 03:33:02 PM CDT
Date: Mon, 04 Oct 1999 20:33:02 +0000
Thank you, Eliza, for volunteering to facilitate this month's discussion. I am delighted to be a part of it, especially since <The Birchbark House>, which I read as an uncorrected proof a few months ago, has become one of my very favorites. This was a book that I could have easily read in one sitting, but chose to read it a chapter at a time, to put it down and reflect, to pick it up again, to savor it. <The Birchbark House>, like Omakayas herself, is thoughtful and strong; and I am happy that Louise is planning to write more about her and her family.
I would now like to share with you the review of that Doris Seale wrote for our next book, .
-----------------------------------------------"She was named Omakayas, or Little Frog, because her first step was a hop. She grew into a nimble young girl of seven winters, a thoughtful girl with shining brown eyes, and a wide grin, only missing her two front teeth. She touched her upper lip. She still wasn?t used to those teeth gone, and was impatient for her new, grown-up teeth to complete her smile."
With these few sentences, the child stands before us, not complete, but already someone we begin to know. Omakayas lives with her family on Moningwanaykaning island, in what is now called Lake Superior. <The Birchbark House> is the story of one year in her life, and it may be the single best book of its kind. Many and many non-Native children?s writers have attempted historical novels with an American Indian setting?from the outside. It is hard to think of even one that is successful. Erdrich writes from within: the culture, the historical memory of the events she chronicles, are from a real world, one that actually existed and is, still, the past out of which we come and have our being, and that will hold our future.
Omakayas? year is a time of growth, and joy, of lessons learned?some hard?and of tragedy and loss. It is a time when only the tribal and family bonds, the traditions of acceptance and caring, enable the people to hold together and come full circle, to another spring. For Omakayas, the year ends in a stunning revelation that shows her just how deep the love that holds the universe together goes.
Although it is very clear here that one child is not valued above another, it is also clear that Omakayas has gifts. She is growing into her life; there is the promise of who she may turn out to be. She is also an endearing little girl, with a very good heart. And it is hard to leave her. For all that it is so simply written, this is a rich and multi-layered work, with a strong sense of relationship, the "at-oneness with" of Native life, sometimes referred to as being "in tune with nature," which, of course, is not the same thing at all. Nor, Hornbook to the contrary, is this even remotely like the Laura Ingalls Wilder books.
is a strong and beautiful book, and it is highly recommended.
------------------------------------------------------I'd now like to comment briefly on some of the issues that have been raised here in the last few days.
Judy O'Malley wrote that "it seems a sad commentary that this may be the first story written for young readers that offers a close, compassionate view of an American Indian household with which children today can empathize as they do with the Little House books." There are many beautifully written stories I can think of that show a close, compassionate American Indian family. They include: by Lenore Keeshig-Tobias (Anishinabe), by Diane Johnston Hamm, by Joe Bruchac (Abenaki), by Joe Bruchac (Abenaki), by Louise Erdrich (Ojibwa),
by Kathleen Lacapa (Mohawk) and Michael Lacapa (Apache/Hopi/Tewa), by Jan Bourdeau Waboose (Ojibwa), by Cheryl Savageau
(Abenaki), by Shirley Sterling (Coast Salish),
by Ignatia Broker (Ojibwa), and <Northern Lights: The Soccer Trails> by Michael Arvaarluk Kusugak (Inuit). There are probably more; these are just the ones that quickly come to mind.
Saying that "children empathize with the books" assumes that "children"?as readers and students?means non-Native children, because Indian children are usually saddened and sickened the first time they have the misfortune to encounter the books and others of that ilk. Doris writes that, as a young child, she discovered the Laura Ingalls Wilder books in the library, and showed them to her dad. "Someway," she says, "I couldn't say just how he worked it, we didn't take any of them home that day." And it wasn't until she became an adult that she found out why: "The naked wild men stood by the fireplace.... Laura smelled a horrible bad smell.... Their faces were bold and fierce."
Another issue, one that Kathy Isaacs raised, needs to be addressed, and I will attempt to do that here.
from
it ld be e ople
This is the exact argument that Jean Feiwel, the publisher of Scholastic, uses to obfuscate what Ann Rinaldi has done in <My Heart Is on the Ground>.
Louise Erdrich, who is Ojibwa, has used the Ojibwa name of an Ojibwa child in a story that honors and respects Ojibwa children. When Louise says that she's "been told those old names should be given life," that means she has probably consulted with her elders in the telling of this story, and she tells this story from her heart, her spirit, and her life.
For Ann Rinaldi to copy the names of dead Indian children from the gravestones at the Carlisle Indian cemetery and use them as characters in her book dishonors and disrespects the children who died there. It is the coldest kind of appropriation I can think of, and epitomizes the utter lack of sensitivity and respect that characterizes the vast majority of children's books about Native peoples. I don't know?and don't care about?her intentions; her words speak for themselves.
I hope I haven't strayed too far from the topic; what I wanted to say was "chi migwetch, Louise, for this beautiful book."
Beverly
______________ Beverly Slapin Oyate 2702 Mathews St. Berkeley, CA 94702
(510) 848g00
(510) 848H15 fax oyate at oyate.org www.oyate.org
Received on Mon 04 Oct 1999 03:33:02 PM CDT
