taylor price

pixel skylines
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
One Nice Bug Per Day
noise dept.
Jules of Nature
Game of Thrones Daily

JBB: An Artblog!

No title available
dirt enthusiast

祝日 / Permanent Vacation

Origami Around

Kiana Khansmith

Love Begins
we're not kids anymore.

izzy's playlists!
art blog(derogatory)
RMH
trying on a metaphor
Not today Justin
seen from Indonesia
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from Canada

seen from Indonesia

seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from Canada

seen from Malaysia

seen from United Kingdom
seen from Indonesia

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from China

seen from Canada
@debbiereese
2019 Summer Reading List PDF Are you looking for a curated summer reading list that celebrates diversity, inclusivity and intersecting identities? The We Are Kid Lit Collective selects books by an…
Ask for these books at your library!
Speak up! Call your Senator. https://www.nytimes.com/2018/09/30/us/politics/chad-ludington-statement-brett-kavanaugh.html
For BLOOD MOON, John Sedgwick invited input from two professors in Native studies. Then, he ignored them. Please do not use that book as a reliable source of information about the Cherokee Nation. Please share this image so that others know it is not reliable.
Quite pleased to have the work I do, critiquing representations of Native people in children’s books, recognized by the American Library Association! Photo by @librarygrl
Winners of the American Indian Library Association’s 2018 Youth Literature Award! Please share, buy, and ask for these books. Twelve books, but inside those 12, almost 100 different Native writers, illustrators, artists, photographers... Details here: https://americanindiansinchildrensliterature.blogspot.com/2018/02/winners-of-2018-american-indian-library.html
See Allie Jane Bruce’s review of MANIAC MAGEE. She points to that excerpt, among others. http://readingwhilewhite.blogspot.com/2017/09/looking-back-maniac-magee-by-jerry_8.html
Dreamland Burning? Nope.
Why am I saying Nope to Jennifer Latham’s DREAMLAND BURNING? Because its Native content is scant. It feels superficial. There’s other problems, too. Though the characters in both eras (Tulsa, 1921 and Tulsa present day) are mixed (both have a white parent), the two characters and plot lines look more like white saviors than a Native or character of color.
And yet... it got starred reviews. Lots of them!
My in depth review is here: https://americanindiansinchildrensliterature.blogspot.com/2017/03/not-recommended-dreamland-burning-by.html
It Is Even More Complicated than Most People Know...
An “It’s Complicated!” post by Debbie Reese, assistant professor of American Indian studies at the University of Illinois
When Nancy Mercado invited me to submit a post for CBC’s “It’s Complicated” series, I was pleased to have the opportunity to speak to the audience of CBC’s Diversity Blog. In her invitation, she wrote that CBC defines diversity in terms of “cultural/ethnic/religious/class/sexual diversity.”
I’m complicating the definition by adding “nation” because while American Indians have specific cultural or religious ways of being that mark us as diverse from the mainstream, the most significant marker is our political status as sovereign nations. Within an Indigenous sovereign nation, you could find people who don’t have the hair or skin color, or other features commonly—we could say stereotypically—attributed to American Indians. I’ll complicate the discussion even further by saying that there are people who are citizens of sovereign nations, and, there are people who are descendants of someone who was/is a citizen of a sovereign nation. Going one step further in complication, there are sovereign nations that are federally recognized, some that are state recognized, and some that are not recognized at all.
Most people don’t know anything at all about tribal sovereignty and what it means. Without that knowledge, it can be difficult for outsiders to write stories that ring true to our experiences as American Indians. In fact, it can be difficult for someone of a sovereign tribal nation at one end of the country to write about a nation at the other end, but someone who knows their nation, its history, its ways of being, and the ways it has been misrepresented has a leg up on anyone else. They know that there is a lot they do not know, and they know that standard sources aren’t the place to go for the information they need to write a story that holds up to the eye of someone of that tribal nation.
Keep reading
Wrote this in 2008. It is buried in the CBC Diversity pages.
Yesterday (June 11, 2016), a Native writer who tweets from @CyborgN8VMari, shared this image. It is, to our knowledge, the first response JK Rowling has had to Native criticisms of what she did in #MagicInNorthAmerica. (Note: I added the red arrow and red box to highlight the notification. And, see my next Tumblr post, too…)
A Tlingit Review of Lydia Sharp’s WHENEVER I’M WITH YOU
Lydia Sharp's Whenever I'm With You was published on January 3, 2017 by Scholastic. Here's the synopsis:
:
After Gabi's parents' divorce, she moves from California to Alaska with her dad. At first, it feels like banishment--until she meets Kai. He welcomes her into his life, sharing his family, his friends, and his warmth. But as winter approaches, Kai pulls away for seemingly no reason at all. He's quiet, withdrawn. Then one day, he disappears.
Kai's twin brother, Hunter, believes Kai is retracing their missing father's steps in the wilderness north of Anchorage. There's a blizzard on the way, and Kai is alone out there. Gabi's frustration over his emotional distance quickly turns to serious concern. This is the boy who saved her from the dark. She can't lose him to it.
So Gabi and Hunter agree to head out together on a wild journey north--a trip that will challenge them physically and emotionally, as they try to convince the boy they love to return home.
An Alaska Native reader who is Tlingit wrote to me to share concerns with the book. As regular readers of AICL may recall, I get email from people who prefer not to be identified. Some worry about backlash on them or their children. I respect their requests and am grateful for their careful readings of children's and young adult books.
The Tlingit reader's concerns are as follows:
(1) Ambiguity of Native Characters
The two brothers in Whenever I'm With You are identified as having a Tlingit father and a Canadian mother, but no further information is provided. Are they enrolled? What part of Alaska is their father from? Were the two brothers raised outside their Tlingit community, and therefore, don't know enough about it to say more than they do? The idea of them being Tlingit is so lacking in detail to support it, that they could be Haida or a different Alaska Native tribe.
Because there is so little there, they could even be white and it would make no difference in the story. An example of them sounding white is in the way they speak about hunting. It doesn't sound the way Native Alaskans talk about hunting.
(2) Degrading and Exotic Attitude towards Native Culture
The main character in the story is Latina. She's wealthy. Throughout, she is snobby and says negative and degrading things. One example is the passage about akutaq. Gabi and Hunter are at a restaurant. He digs in to his "dish of chunky fluff" (p. 80-81):
"What is that?" I ask.
He swallows. "Something you should try."
It must be made of dog lips or something. "Don't avoid the question."
"All right, I'll tell you what this is, but only after you take a bite. Are you willing to trust me that it won't kill you? That you might even like it?"
"What doesn't kill us makes us stronger, right?" At least, that's what Kelly Clarkson says. And if Hunter can eat it without gagging, it can't be that bad. I scoop out a spoonful and force it into my mouth. It's sweet. The chunky part is definitely some kind of berry. And the rest of it has a consistency similar to... "Mousse? I mean the dessert kind."
Headshake. "It's called akutaq. Do you like it?"
"I wouldn't say like. But I wouldn't say hate, either." I take one more bite and push the rest of it away. That's more than enough sugar for me. "Okay, I tried it. Now, what's in it?"
"Whipped fat and berries."
He can't be serious. "Like, animal fat?"
"Yeah. And berries."
"But it's fat."
"And berries," he repeats, smiling, clearly enjoying my display of culture shock.
"The berries are only there to make it taste good. Because it's fat." How is this a real thing people pay to eat? How does he not understand this is gross? "It's flavored. Fat."
"And it's good." He scrapes the last of his out of the dish. "Even you said it wasn't bad."
"That's not the point!"
Hunter's laugh comes out in spurts, like he's trying to hold it in and concentrate on more important bodily functions, like chewing and swallowing and not spewing his akutaq all over the table. Although it probably wouldn't look much different in vomit form.
The Tlingit reader who wrote to me is offended by the comparison of akutaq to vomit and imagines other Alaska Native readers would be offended by it, too. The reader wonders if--by way of passages like that--readers are supposed to dislike Gabi and her negative impressions of Alaska Native land, people, and culture. The reader further says that these passages mark the book as one NOT meant for Alaska Native readers. Another example of the author not considering an Alaska Native reader is where Alaskan lands are described as a giant expanse of nothing.
While, in some places, Gabi seems to like some aspects of Alaska Native culture, it comes off in a fetishizing way, like when Gabi wonders if a bear is her "spirit animal" (p. 161):
Maybe it's my imagination, but I think the bear is looking right at me. Right into me. My heart thumps hard in my chest, my head, my ears, my throat; I feel it everywhere. But this thing I'm feeling isn't "scared." I don't know what it is. Exposed, maybe. Vulnerable. Or... trust? I'm putting my absolute trust in this creature not to charge and attack me. That has to be it--trust in its purest form--and the realization calms me. Tension falls away like I'm shedding a heavy coat. For the first time ever I let go of my control of a situation without feeling out of control.
Total serenity. From a bear.
It lazily turns its head back to the river, and soon we're riding off, every second giving us more and more distance from a possible threat. The moment is gone, but the impact of it stays with me all the way to Jack Randy's house.
Even if I had been paying attention to how we got here instead of contemplating whether the brown bear is my spirit animal, I couldn't find this place again if I had to.
Debbie's response
I'll order the book, but I can say right now that my notes and analysis will likely look exactly like what you've read, above. (Note: the quotes above are from what I saw in the book using Amazon's "look inside" and the preview in Google Books.)
Spirit animal?!
Who, I wonder, was the editor at Scholastic?! There are times when I think Scholastic is just a bit ahead of the field in terms of offering readers books with better representations of Native peoples, and then, they publish books like this one.
A #NativeReads campaign for November
We all know that books by Native writers ought to be read year-round. They ought not be confined to “Native American Month.” I’m not keen on these months because too many people think they’ve done their job if they “honor” us by featuring our writers in November.
In truth, they gotta stop honoring us that way! The First Nations Development Institute is launching a #NativeReads campaign that everyone can use to learn about Native writers. I helped them develop it. Join the hashtag, but use it all year long. And of course, please share the campaign materials. In addition to the book lists, there’s some guides on how to use a handful of the books.
Dear White Girls,
Halloween approaches and so does the time in which you start thinking that dressing up like Dia de los Muertos or a calaca or a calavera is a good idea. I know I know, it’s so pretty and ethnic and easy to paint on (yeah, no) but you need to stop. If I see anyone on tumblr or out and about in the real world, I reserve the right to call you a cultural appropriator, make you uncomfortable in your decision, and to publicly shame you for participating in racism.
Have questions?–go here and here for answers.
Sincerely,
Tierracita
Dear White Girls,
Halloween approaches and so does the time in which you start thinking that dressing up like Dia de los Muertos or a calaca or a calavera is a good idea. I know I know, it’s so pretty and ethnic and easy to paint on (yeah, no) but you need to stop. If I see anyone on tumblr or out and about in the real world, I reserve the right to call you a cultural appropriator, make you uncomfortable in your decision, and to publicly shame you for participating in racism.
Have questions?–go here and here for answers.
Sincerely,
Tierracita
Can everyone please start proactively telling their white girl friends not to do dia de los muertos facepaint for halloween, especially white folks telling other white folks. I know it’s early september but you can never start to early on curtailing this bullshit.
On Making Mistakes
Two weeks ago, my latest book, As I Descended, was released. One week later, I received an anonymous message from a thoughtful reader who’d just started the book. This reader, who’s Indigenous, noticed that I’d used the term totem pole in chapter 1 to describe where a character stood in her school’s social hierarchy ― in the sense of the phrase “low man on the totem pole.”
[Image text reads: “It wasn’t as if Lily and Maria weren’t popular. Maria was almost as high up the totem pole as Delilah. Two boys had already asked her to homecoming, and even though she’d turned them…”]
I profoundly regret that I used the term this way, and I apologize to any readers who have been hurt by it.
I shared the message I received with my editor at Harper Teen (the amazing Kristen Pettit), and we immediately made plans for the term to be taken out in future reprints of As I Descended.
Using that term in this context is inaccurate representation. It’s also a far-too-casual reference to a very serious tradition, and one which has been both erased and treated extremely disrespectfully by white people for centuries. For more on the term and why the way I used it is problematic, I invite you to visit American Indians in Children’s Literature, which is run by Prof. Debbie Reese, an expert in this topic.
There’s a ton of history behind why it’s wrong to use the term totem pole this way. We talk a lot about privilege in the discussions around diversity in fiction, and for good reason. Privilege is what enabled me to overlook those words in my book ― in the very first chapter ― every single time I read it during revisions. There’s no excuse for it. Now it’s on me to put every ounce of effort I have into being conscious of my privilege for the books I still have to write. I want to be the best writer I can be, and that means I need to listen, and to work hard and do better.
I’m incredibly grateful to my publisher for working so quickly to fix my mistake in future printings. And I apologize, deeply, to any readers hurt by my use of the term.
Really glad to see another person speak up about this, and another writer and editor acknowledge its use as being wrong! Very glad it’ll come out of the next printings, too, and that it is all being made public for us to know! Thank you, Robin!
A thought, though, about apologies.
I get why people offer them. They’re a social grace. But sometimes, they carry some things that don’t work. They suggest that __ is hurt by the word that misrepresents their particular demographic, when maybe __ isn’t actually hurt. Maybe __ is just pissed off. Yeah, I know, being angry can be characterized as hurt. Still, though, saying someone of that demographic is the one who should be apologized to suggests they’re the only one who is hurt by the word, when I think everyone who doesn’t know it is a problem is impacted by it.
Instead of “I profoundly regret that I used the term this way, and I apologize to any readers who have been hurt by it,” maybe something like (and yeah, I know, this is pretty audacious of me to tell someone how to apologize, but I think we’re talking about larger issues) “I messed up. I didn’t know I was messing up. Lot of us don’t know. Let’s not do that, ok, ourselves, anymore, ok? And let’s tell others about it, too.”
These are all the books I have to read this semester…not counting about three or four more I have in ebook form.
Welcome to grad school I guess