Hi friends,
I’m so grateful to write to you today, even in a time when things are really heavy, when there is so much going on in our lives on an individual and collective level. I’m grateful because when I enter into this space, when I open up a new post draft and begin typing out that word, friends, I mean it, in that we are an online community gathered around words and care.
Thank you for showing up here and reading my words. I wouldn’t be doing this work without you.
I was thinking about this phrase yesterday that popped into my head and wanted to share it with you:
Everyone needs a deep well of wisdom. What’s yours?
I think about this every time I begin writing a new book, because I know that, at least for me, writing new books is about drawing from the wisdom wells of others who have gone before me, who have written, who have poured their hearts and souls into the pages that I get to highlight and mark up and the tender stories I find myself tearing up to or nodding my way through or struggling to understand.
We need each other’s wisdom wells.
I’d like to share a troubling statistic with you (pulled from an article in The School Library Journal):
In 2022, less than two percent of children’s books were by Indigenous authors and even fewer featured Indigenous characters.
I’m an author, but I’m also a mom of two kids, one in middle school, one in elementary school.
Every year of their school lives, I’ve struggled with things like what to say during Thanksgiving, what lessons they are going to learn at school and how they’ll have to challenge them, whether someone is going to try to teach them the Tomahawk Chop (that actually happened) or what other struggles they will come against socially.
One thing I’ve often noticed is how outdated school libraries are when it comes to books by Indigenous authors or about Indigenous characters. Many of the books are from the 60s and 70s, some written by anthropologists, people studying Indigenous cultures, but that’s not what I need my kids to see. And no, Tomi dePaola’s Legend of the Indian Paintbrush isn’t going to cut it, even if it is a cute book.
We need to keep supporting school libraries, especially underfunded ones, and especially in a time of book bans.
And we desperately need books by Indigenous authors, for Indigenous kids.
So a few years ago when I was beginning my children’s series, I knew one thing for sure: I wanted my books to feature Potawatomi kids, to explore deep questions about spirituality and culture, and to be playful and fun, too.
I’ve been so honored to watch Winter’s Gifts make its way to your hands, and by the way, we’ve sold out of the first printing! You did that, all of you who ordered copies and gifted copies to friends, who spread the word and asked your libraries and bookstores to stock copies.
Chii migwetch, friends.
And already, Summer’s Magic is being celebrated, and folks like you are pre-ordering copies for yourselves and the kiddos in your life.
When I started writing and speaking, a lot of the people I met knew nothing about Potawatomi people. We weren’t on their radar, they’d never heard of us, they didn’t know about any of our history or culture. Thanks to other authors like Robin Wall Kimmerer who wrote Braiding Sweetgrass, folks are learning that we are still here, and I want my children’s series to contribute to that.
In case you don’t know this, I’m even sharing a Potawatomi word or idea every Wednesday on my Instagram, so that when you get my books, you’ll know how to pronounce the words! #PotawatomiWednesday
So, I can’t thank you enough. But I have to keep asking you to pre-order Summer’s Magic, to keep spreading the word, and to please, please support Indigenous authors whenever and however you can.
So, here are 3 reasons why you should buy books by Indigenous authors:
You’re directly supporting our work in the world
You’re setting an example for your friends, family, & community
You’re showing the publishing industry that Indigenous books MATTER
First, you’re directly supporting us! When I heard that Winter’s Gifts sold out of the first printing, I was so honored. That means enough people cared. That means enough people honored my words and stories and wanted to share them with the kids in their lives. But in order to do this work, we have to be paid, and as a woman—as an Indigenous woman—it’s hard to keep fighting for myself to be paid, to be honored. I struggle with even asking you to become paid subscribers, but I need it. The support matters. So please keep buying our stuff, keep supporting us. When you do, you support our families, our stories, our values.
Next, when you buy books by Indigenous authors, you’re setting an example for the people in your life! It matters when you say “Hey, instead of buying that book by a non-Native author about Indigenous people, here’s a good alternative!” or when you head to the local library or check out your local bookstore and make sure they have copies of our books. This is what solidarity is.
Indigenous people can’t be the only ones fighting for our books to be out there. So, keep helping us.
A great resource for looking up books by or about Indigenous people is Dr. Debbie Reese’s American Indians in Children’s Literature hub.
And lastly, when you buy books by Indigenous authors, you’re letting the publishing industry know that our books MATTER. Do you know that every time I publish a book, whether it’s my adult nonfiction books or my children’s books, I wonder if anyone will care? I wonder if anyone will notice that a new book by an Indigenous author came out. Because if no one notices and no one cares, the publishing industry won’t find it worth the money either.
This is why we show up on social media and do podcast interviews and exhaust ourselves making sure that it’s possible to be seen by someone, anyone out there.
Being an Indigenous author is beautiful and complex and difficult. We need support, and so much of that support comes from our readers who show up and demand that the publishing industry keep supporting us.
So friends, in the coming days, weeks, months, as Earth Day is around the corner, ask what you can do, not just for me but for Indigenous authors everywhere.
Can you buy some new Indigenous kid lit?
Can you donate a few books to your local library?
Can you pre-order Summer’s Magic for yourself and a friend?
Can you become a paid subscriber to The Liminality Journal?
Can you spread the word about books you love?
Can you review a few books by Indigenous authors that you love?
In Living Resistance I write that kinship is a thread that connects us. Our words are that thread. Our shared wisdom is that thread. Our books are the thread. Our kind words are the thread. Don’t cut the thread friends. I won’t either.
Onward, together.
TONIGHT (Thursday) I’m hosting the Communal Realm Resistance Session from 7-8:30 ET! If you have an hour and a half, please join us for journaling, poetry, and discussion around kinship, solidarity, ethics, and land care. We did the personal realm session last month and it was so tender and beautiful. I hope you’ll consider grabbing a ticket and reserving your spot. Register here.
This Sunday I’m preaching at Riverside Church in NYC for their Earth Day Service at 11am and will do a book signing after! Come say hello if you live nearby!
Mark your calendars (and your hearts) for May, when we get back to a poem a day in the month of may, one of the highlights of my year! Stay tuned, I’ll be announcing this year’s theme in the coming weeks!
Join me in I R E L A N D this October for a really special retreat, with space for good food, rest, community, and beautiful, tough questions. You can apply and learn more at this link.
Indigenous vision and wisdom is a gift in itself--thank you for your work and your words. I can’t wait to read your new book to my boys!
Thank you Kaitlin, for this and for all of the tangible suggestions. For the ones I have not acted on, I'm on my way. If for some tyrannical reason, I was forced to have only one subscription and one thing to read, it would be this journal and your books and poems. Thank you!