Miya Wears Orange

Written by Wanda John-Kehewin

Illustrated by Erika Rodriguez Medina

HighWater Press

978-1-77492-125-8

40 pp.

Ages 6–8

August 2025 

Miya loves school and is far removed from experiencing the trauma that too many Indigenous youth had when sent to residential schools. But when her teacher reads a story of one little girl who had such an experience, it all becomes deeply personal for Miya.

 

Miya, the only Indigenous child in her class, is shocked to hear about the child in the book having her hair cut, having her doll taken away, and not being allowed to see her family. 

Miya thinks about how she is the only Indigenous kid in her class, and her chest feels tight.

From Miya Wears Orange, written by Wanda John-Kehewin, illustrated by Erika Rodriguez Medina

The story read by the teacher was an introduction to the upcoming National Day for Truth and Reconciliation. But Miya cannot focus on the importance of September 30th. Instead, she wonders if she will be sent to residential school because she is Indigenous.

From Miya Wears Orange, written by Wanda John-Kehewin, illustrated by Erika Rodriguez Medina

So begins a discussion between mother and daughter. Miya's mother explains more about the residential schools and that those schools are closed, and Miya would never be taken from her. With her big heart and much compassion, Miya feels so much for the children who were taken, and her mother reassures her that that would never happen to her and that wearing an orange shirt would honour those children. 

Though Erika Rodriguez Medina gives illustrations that are endearing, the story of Miya Wears Orange is a sobering one, and it is one based in the circumstances Wanda John-Kehewin experienced with her own child. This is not a worry a child should ever have. But by answering her questions, reassuring her with her words and her actions—letting her stay home one day and continuing with their daily routines, including picking her up from school—Miya's mom, and probably Wanda John-Kehewin, did everything right. With time and reassurance, Miya will worry less, though I believe she will always think about and feel for those children who suffered. For her, wearing an orange shirt could be for any and every day.

From Miya Wears Orange, written by Wanda John-Kehewin, illustrated by Erika Rodriguez Medina

Just as I have previously reviewed a book by Wanda John-Kehewin (Visions of the Crow, Book 1 of Dreams series), so too have I reviewed those illustrated by Erika Rodriguez Medina. (In fact, the last book I reviewed, The Friendship Blanket, was illustrated by her.) Her ability to keep the warmth of her art no matter the nature of the story speaks to her creativity and skill. In Miya Wears Orange, Erika Rodriguez Medina does not emphasize the horrors of the residential schools, the source of Miya's anxieties. Instead, her focus is on the child and her mother and the good things about school. Her colour palette is limited with much burnt orange and purples and burgundy, and occasional blue or turquoise, keeping the tone of a story about remembrance and empathy. 

From Miya Wears Orange, written by Wanda John-Kehewin, illustrated by Erika Rodriguez Medina

Miya Wears Orange may become an important read for introducing young children to the National Day for Truth and Reconciliation and also why we wear orange on September 30th. But I think it will also open discussions about children sharing their worries so those concerns might be lessened or alleviated. For little children, worries can become magnified very quickly, and for children of Indigenous heritage, for whom generational trauma is a potential, it's incumbent upon parents, teachers and those who care for them to be aware of their responses to texts and news related to residential schools. Those stories are horrific, even when adjusted for a younger audience, and attention and compassion must be applied to ensure an affirmative outcome.

The Friendship Blanket

Written by Leonarda Carranza

Illustrated by Erika Rodriguez Medina

North Winds Press

978-1-0397-0346-9

32 pp.

Ages 4–8

July 2025

 

There's a reason blankets show up so often in children's literature. They offer warmth, comfort, and security. They are more than a covering. They are a sanctuary. And for this child, it's also a connection to her former life and that of her future.

From The Friendship Blanket, written by Leonarda Carranza, illustrated by Erika Rodriguez Medina

When the little girl and her Mami move far away from her Abuelita and the home she has known, her grandmother gifts her with a blanket so that she can always have a piece of home with her. Though Mami tries to reassure the child by offering to paint her new room orange and pink like the sunsets at home and by telling her she'll make new friends, the little girl still experiences some trepidation and much longing for her old home.

...I miss Abuelita so much my chest burns.

 

From The Friendship Blanket, written by Leonarda Carranza, illustrated by Erika Rodriguez Medina

When she attends her new school for the first time, she does not feel welcome. Some children laugh and point, and, even when she tries to connect, they don't seem to understand her.  Her mother tries to reassure her as does her family in her dreams. But it's not until the girl notices that "Lonely is everywhere," that she sees a way to connect with a classmate in a meaningful way and use her Abuelita's blanket to bolster that connection.

 

Brampton's Leonarda Carranza was born in El Salvador and has used her experiences to fuel her writing. (Her first book was Abuelita and Me, a Blue Spruce-award nominee.) While The Friendship Blanket has a distinct Latino flavour to it, it is a story of any child who is uprooted from family or from the home they'd always enjoyed. Her Abuelita and her mother do the right stuff to ease the move and transition to a new place but it's a process that is dependent on so many factors, from the school and the kids there, to the opportunity to stay connected with those left behind, and even the understanding of the adults in her life. Leonarda Carranza makes the mother sympathetic and loving but she can only do so much. The little girl has to step up, which she does, by finding a way to facilitate those new connections. Thankfully, she has that blanket from her Abuelita. It's bright and beautiful and it's a wonderful device for sharing with and relating to others.

 

Erika Rodriguez Medina, also of Latina heritage (Mexico), ensures that this is a story of a child from a Spanish-speaking community. From the way the child's hair is braided to the depth of her skin tone, and the bold colours and patterns of her blanket, Erika Rodriguez Medina makes sure that we see this as a child who has moved to a very different community. Most of her classmates, perhaps even her teacher, cannot appreciate her heritage and the richness of her experiences; instead, they make her feel invisible. Erika Rodriguez Medina helps us feel her hurt through her expressive face and body language, but we can also appreciate the power of her family connections. 

From The Friendship Blanket, written by Leonarda Carranza, illustrated by Erika Rodriguez Medina

Most parents and caregivers know the value of a special blanket for a child or a senior, and for everyone in between. It can help provide the comforts of place and people in a way that very few things can. And if you're lucky enough to have blanket that does double-duty as a friendship spark, all the better,

The Tunnel

Written by Sarah Howden

Illustrated by Erika Rodriguez Medina

Owlkids Books

978-1-77147-427-6

32 pp.

Ages 4-8

March 2022

Something bad has happened. There is much concern for the child, with his mother offering hugs and his aunt asking him if he's okay. But the boy doesn't want to talk about. What he does want to do is dig a tunnel and crawl inside. So he does.

From The Tunnel by Sarah Howden, illus. by Erika Rodriguez Medina

Taking a small plastic shovel, the child starts digging into the floor of his bedroom. Deep, deep he digs, excavating a meandering tunnel that encounters worms and beetles and moles and more.  

From The Tunnel by Sarah Howden, illus. by Erika Rodriguez Medina

It's dark down there but I don't mind.

In fact, the boy realizes, after he comes up to the surface outside his home, that no one knows that he's out there.

I could just disappear.

From The Tunnel by Sarah Howden, illus. by Erika Rodriguez Medina

That empowering thought is enough for the boy. He doesn't have to disappear right now. 

I'll go home for now, I tell myself.

But I can always come back.

By returning home after his jaunt, the child can now take comfort in his room and his mother's presence.

I think she knows I need a secret place.

She might have secret places of her own.

 

I think she knows we sometimes travel far away. 

Alone, where we don't have to talk.

I'm glad Sarah Howden never reveals to young readers what nature of bad this boy experienced. By leaving it open, it could be anything and thus relevant to any child who has felt a trauma. His response, then, could be theirs. They might recognize the need for a parent or concerned adult to try to help but not knowing how. Fortunately, Sarah Howden gives this child the freedom to choose what he needs: to be silent or to escape, whether figuratively or literally. 

 

There is starkness in his situation and in Sarah Howden's words, so the bleakness of Vancouver's Erika Rodriguez Medina's artwork mirrors that atmosphere. There's not much colour in this child's life right now, nor are there in Erika Rodriguez Medina's illustrations. It's pretty much black and white, with some grey and only minimal red. I'm sure that's how this child feels. Whatever has happened to him, it has turned his world into monotones, gradations of badness. There is some colour, not unlike the goodness that is shadowed in his life, but it is so close to him that he might not be able to see it until he can look at it from a distance, perhaps outside his house or himself.

From The Tunnel by Sarah Howden, illus. by Erika Rodriguez Medina

Sarah Howden could've given her picture book a happy ending in which the boy's distress is erased with his tunnel and the love of family but, let's face, that's not very realistic. Trauma does not disappear because of good intentions or diversions. But, both Sarah Howden and Erika Rodriguez Medina show us that there is some light and colour in his life and they make sure he sees it too.