Review of “We Are Water Protectors” by Carole Lindstrom

“We Are Water Protectors” written by Carole Lindstrom and illustrated by Michaela Goade is a new picture book you need to look out for.

“We Are Water Protectors” is a book full of vibrant, eye catching images and powerful prose to match.

The author, Carole Lindstrom writes the books from passion and experience. She identifies as Anishinaabe (also known as Nishnaabe or Anishinabe)/Metis and is tribally enrolled with the Turtle Mountain Band of Ojibwe (Carolelindstrom.com). Lindstrom also published the children’s book “Girls Dance, Boys Fiddle” in 2013.

This book has not gone unnoticed by book bloggers. A popular blog, Book Riot, lists the book under “Ten Picture Books for the Budding Environmentalists”, and Lindstrom’s book is also featured on CBC, The New York Times, and Publisher’s Weekly.

The phrase “We are water protectors” may sound familiar. “We are water protectors” says Don Sampson to tribes opposed to the movement protesting the construction of the Dakota Access Pipeline. Sampson is both the head of the climate change program from the Affiliated Tribes of Northwest Indians (ATNI), and a traditional chief of the Walla Walla Tribe of the Confederated Tribes of the Umatilla Indian Reservation (Seattle Times). Sampson and his family fought with the Standing Rock Sioux Tribe during the Standing Rock protest against the pipeline.

                                    

Photo from Dakota Access Pipeline protests in October of 2016

However, Lynda V. Mapes’ article continues “The fight isn’t only about one pipeline, but the larger battle for clean energy in a world in grave jeopardy because of emissions from fossil fuels that are heating the planet.” Sampson concludes “How can anyone look into the eyes of grandchildren and say, we did nothing.” Although popularized protests at the Dakota Access Pipeline have passed, the fight to protect water and the legacy of the protests continue.

Lindstrom takes this popular quote, “we are water protectors”, to invite readers into an important project and movement taking place in the United States. 

It is important to also remember these pipes is a twofold threat of the environment and the culture of the Standing Rock Sioux tribe’s homeland. “An oil spill would permanently contaminate the reservation’s water supply and that construction of the pipeline would destroy sacred sites where many of their ancestors are buried” (Medina, 2016).

Given the background of the book, Lindstrom has a big shoe to fill, and she truly succeeds with her touching and beautiful work.

“We Are Water Protectors” is narrated by a young, unnamed girl. At the beginning of the book, she is told “Water is the first medicine” by Nokemis, who appears to be a grandmother or an older maternal figure.

Right off the bat Lindstrom emphasizes the importance of water, while Goade highlights its beauty and power through the illustration. Lindstrom continues, “We come from water. It nourished us inside our mother’s body. As it nourishes us here on Mother Earth. Water is sacred.” These short sentences remind me of water washing on and off of the beach, ebbing and flowing through the book.

She continues, “The river’s rhythm runs through my veins. Runs through my people’s veins.” Again, the importance of water is established. The protagonist states the river runs through her people’s veins, connecting them altogether in a water system as unique and complex as the individuals within her community. In the illustration her dark hair flows across the page into a blue-green body of water, complete with fish, bright coral lily flowers, and lily pads.

This photo not only emphasizes how the river “runs through [her] veins”, but the river is part of her identity and her people’s identity. She finds love and joy in the water, but also a need to protect what is being taken from them.

The narrator continues, “my people talk of a black snake that will destroy the land. Spoil the water. Poison plants and animals. Wreck everything in its path…Its venom burns the land, courses through the water, making it unfit to drink.”

Here the water and land are threatened, as is perhaps the characters’ identity as water protectors. As opposed to the previously calming blues and greens, the snake is on this bright orange background, almost reminiscent of the sky during fires that California has come to know. This orange cloud seems to suffocate or suppress the flowers on the bottom left which bend over the pipe, as if weeping its petals away. The portrayal of the pipe as a snake emphasizes the real danger that these pipes being built have on the plants and animals, as well as the people. The snakes [or pipes] not only poison the living, but the water itself is unfit to drink. Water, a necessity for organisms to live, is being taken by this snake pipe.

However, the protagonist does not lose hope. She says “TAKE COURAGE! I must keep the black snake away from my village’s water. I must rally my people together.”

The protagonist calls the reader to action in her our actions. She is saying take courage to herself, her village, and everyone reading this. In the face of black snakes and threatened land, she tells herself to have courage in order to save her village.

“We Are Water Protectors” is a powerful, resonating, and timely book that I think readers of all ages should pick up.

-SS

References:

Carole Lindstrom - author of children's literature. (2013). Retrieved from http://www.carolelindstrom.com/

Mapes, L. V. (2020, August 6). What’s next for the Dakota Access Pipeline? Recent court rulings cast doubt on future. The Seattle Times. Retrieved from https://www.seattletimes.com/seattle-news/environment/whats-next-for-the-dakota-access-pipeline-recent-court-rulings-cast-doubt-on-future/

Medina, D. A. (2016, November 4). Dakota Access Pipeline: What's Behind the Protests? NBC News. Retrieved from https://www.nbcnews.com/storyline/dakota-pipeline-protests/dakota-access-pipeline-what-s-behind-protests-n676801

Call for Papers: Silence in Oral Narratives

Hello fellow scholars of literature!

I am very excited to share the following conference panel CFP for the upcoming PAMLA 2016 conference in Pasadena, CA (November 11-13 2016). The panel, Silence in Oral Narratives, focuses on the figurative spaces created in the social unconscious by silence and purposeful lack of discussion on certain taboo or painful topics. The goal is to explore the harmful ways this silence and inability to pass on important information can hurt or prevent the healing of people and society.

This connection became apparent to me while studying indigenous literature and seeing the ways minorities have experienced a fracture in their cultural narrative when they have been overwhelmed by Western morals, religion, culture, and knowledge. My focus in researching this topic has always led me toward the exploration of narrative as it pertains to female-to-female relationships and how certain feelings of affection, anger, jealousy, and competition are actually created and fueled by this inability to openly discuss certain topics. The most obvious taboo topics including sex and sexuality, we can see how fear of public shaming can prevent women from openly speaking about these topics to their children or withhold specific information to alter the narrative to their liking and benefit. The eye of the public and the cultural/social identity certainly contribute a great deal to this intentional silence. I am very excited to get the chance to hear others explore the causes and consequences of this topic, whether it is in the realm of children's literature or not!

Please take the time to read the CFP and consider applying or sharing with those whom you think would be interested in contributing to this panel!

Thank you, and I hope to see you all at PAMLA 2016!

CFP: Silence in Oral Narratives

Oral narratives are an integral part of our cultural learning experience. Even with all the world’s knowledge at our fingertips, parents take time to have “the talk” with their children, transforming a conversation into a ritual of sharing knowledge. Transcending the notion of telling a story, oral narratives allow people to see themselves in past and future generations, linking them through a shared culture, heritage, and experience. The sharing of personal narratives and purposeful opening of a past wound in order to impart hard-earned wisdom/lesson onto the next generation serves as the building block for well-informed and better-prepared leaders in society. When certain narratives are not acknowledged and shared for fear of experiencing pain or public shame again, the resulting silence creates anger, ignorance, and isolation in the social consciousness, which prevents healing and progress in society. This panel invites scholars in literature, history, anthropology, and cultural studies to share their research and reflections on this topic.

P.S. You can also explore other session topics for PAMLA 2016 here. 

Part 2: I'm Thankful for Indigenous and Decolonizing Children's Literature

...and Its Many Authors, Named and Unnamed 

I'm thankful for the small presses who have taken on the enormously significant task of publishing and promoting Indigenous children's literature. I'm thankful for Inhabit Media Inc., "an Inuit-owned publishing company that aims to promote and preserve the stories, knowledge and talent of northern Canada," who have published beautiful books like The Legend of Lightning & Thunder by Paula Ikuutaq Rumbolt. I'm thankful for Magabala Books, a publishing house in Australia working "to preserve, develop and promote Australian Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander cultures."

I'm thankful for Oyate, an organization which offers many services such as thoughtful children's book reviews, workshops on respectfully teaching about Native peoples through literature, and curriculum suggestions. I highly recommend taking a look at Oyate's Living Stories, a compilation of testimonies from Native peoples who want it understood that they are not relics of the past; they are "still here."

I'm thankful for Leanne Simpson, whose response as an activist to the fracking in Canada was to publish a children's book called The Gift is in the Making which re-tells traditional stories about Nishinaabeg cultural values and people. I'm thankful that Maori author Patricia Grace has written and published children's books Maraea and the Albatrosses, Areta & the Kahawa and others. I'm thankful that Samoan author Sia Figiel wrote The Girl in the Moon Circle. I'm thankful that Australian Aboriginal author Doris Pilkington wrote Home to Mother.

I'm thankful that children's literature is underestimated. It's an odd thing to be thankful for, but as Trinh T. Minh-Ha wrote in Woman, Native, Other, "associated with backwardness, ignorance, and illiteracy, storytelling in the more 'civilized' context is therefore relegated to the realm of children." Because children's literature is underestimated the decolonizing power of storytelling is thriving in the field. Keep an eye out for an upcoming article in the Unjournal of Children's Literature titled "Mythical and Missing Mothers," by Megan Parry for more about the subversive and decolonizing potential of children's literature.

Happy Columbus Day

Finding a few articles (The Atlantic, The American Scholar) asserting that Columbus Day is to celebrate American diversity, I interpreted their claim as an opportunity to share some amazing literature on my reading list:

Just finished: The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie. Having heard a lot about this book, I finally read it a few weeks ago. After the great expectations set up by the media I had a difficult time getting into the book... until about halfway in. Specifically I was hooked after the basketball game in the chapter titled "Reindeer Games." No spoilers from me, but after that chapter I was invested. It's an amazing book; I recommend it for all. I also congratulate Alexie for the status that comes with the censorship. It's not the worst thing to be challenged on par with Judy Blume's Deenie.

Just started: The Birchbark House by Louise Erdrich. A couple of chapters in, and I'm in love with the protagonist, Omakayas. Pronounced "Oh-MAH-kay-ahs," Erdrich writes in the acknowledgements at the beginning of the book, "Dear reader, when you speak this name out loud you will be honoring the life of an Ojibwa girl who lived long ago." Erdrich and her sister linked the book to an effort to support indigenous language revitalization by beginning The Birchbark House Fund.

Next on my list: Fatty Legs by Christy Jordan-Fenton and Margaret Pokiak-Fenton, and No Parole Today by Laura Tohe. Both books are set in boarding schools. Lately I've been pondering formalized education's role in simultaneously empowering and oppressing children (for an introduction to the "oppressing" side of things, see this clip from the film Schooling the World and Ken Robinson: How schools kill creativity).

A cool blog: American Indians in Children's Literature by Debbie Reynolds. Reynolds is the leading scholar on American Indians in children's lit and maintains this blog as a way of making her scholarship accessible to teachers, parents, and students. It's been cited in the Handbook of Research on Children's and Young Adult Literature edited by Shelby Anne Wolf, Karen Coats, and Patricia Encisco, published in 2010 and The Oxford Handbook of Children's Literature by Julia L. Mickenberg and Lynne Vallone, published in 2011. I recommend starting with reading her thought-provoking post "Dear Jon Scieszka: I've got a bone to pick with you..."

My weekend reading: This article in Indian Country Today titled "Native History: Columbus- Icon and Genocidal Maniac- Lands in New World." Author Christina Rose asks, "...what is it about American culture that resists the truth more than 500 years later? Has it simply become a western tradition to do so?" She also cites and complicates the very articles I linked above.