Showing posts with label dual language. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dual language. Show all posts

May 02, 2024

ninitohtênân / We Listen (Nôhkom series)

Written by Caitlin Dale Nicholson with Leona Morin-Neilson
Illustrated by Caitlin Dale Nicholson
Groundwood Books
978-1-77306-859-6
24 pp.
Ages 3+
April 2024 

Caitlin Dale Nicholson's Nôhkom series honours the Cree grandmothers and elders who share their wisdom, their traditions, and their learning with younger generations. In ninitohtênân / We Listen, Caitlin Dale Nicholson, with translation by Leona Morin-Neilson, a teacher of Cree in BC, reflects on an outing with nôhkom during which the younger people watch and listen and learn.
From ninitohtênân / We Listen, written by Caitlin Dale Nicholson with Leona Morin-Neilson, illustrated by Caitlin Dale Nicholson
There are few words in ninitohtênân / We Listen, though each phrase is told in both standard roman orthography and syllabic Cree, as well as English. The phrases are simple, taking us from "Nôhkom gets ready" and "We get ready"–phrases are paired to reflect what nôhkom does and then what the young people do–to a day out with a picnic and collecting the plant called Labrador Tea. It's a day of following and learning.
From ninitohtênân / We Listen, written by Caitlin Dale Nicholson with Leona Morin-Neilson, illustrated by Caitlin Dale Nicholson
Even though the young people occasionally deviate from what nôhkom does, like playing in the water when their elders rest, the girls usually follow her lead, recognizing the value in her way of doing things. In that way, ninitohtênân / We Listen is very much a tribute to nôhkom and what she imparts to them in her traditional ways.
From ninitohtênân / We Listen, written by Caitlin Dale Nicholson with Leona Morin-Neilson, illustrated by Caitlin Dale Nicholson
The Nôhkom series from Caitlin Dale Nicholson is extraordinary in the depth of its esteem  for the contributions made by elders to younger generations, and the respect afforded them by their sharing of those traditions. As in the earlier books, nipêhon / I Wait and niwîcihâw / I Help, the text is minimal but powerful, even more so for the Cree in both standard roman orthography and syllabic forms. But, it is always Caitlin Dale Nicholson's artwork, acrylics on canvas, that ground the story in family, traditional customs, intergenerational relationships, and Indigenous culture. The family of multiple generations gathers for simple pleasures, but they are profound in their connections with each other and with the natural world as well as their Cree culture. (Recipes for tea and ointment made from the plant Labrador Tea are included.)
 
For young readers, ninitohtênân / We Listen allows us the privilege of a glimpse into a very special relationship and witness the learning that comes from that positive connection. It may not be dramatic or thundering but it is mighty, if you listen.

• • • • • • •
Nôhkom series

niwîcihâw / I Help (2018)
ninitohtênân / We Listen

July 26, 2022

kā-āciwīkicik / The Move

Written by Doris George and Don K. Philpot
Illustrated by Alyssa Koski
Heritage House
978-1-77203-409-7
48 pp.
Ages 4-8
May 2022

The story of kā-āciwīkicik or The Move, a dual-language picture book, begins with an elderly Cree couple looking out from their new house in a rocky barren land, having moved from their old place beside a river close to a lake, land covered with trees, and brush and meadows. As upset as the old woman is in having to leave so much behind, her husband tells her that "There's nothing we can do to change things".  But he's wrong.
 
From kā-āciwīkicik / The Move by Doris George and Don K. Philpot, illus. by Alyssa Koski

Recalling the belief of her grandmother, a diviner, that the spirits would extend help when asked, the old woman first wishes for some trees so that she might have wood to smoke her fish and moose hides. With that, a group of black ash appear and root themselves in the yard. Consequently, the old man gathers some old wood and, in addition to making a smudge, starts a fire for his wife's drying racks.
From kā-āciwīkicik / The Move by Doris George and Don K. Philpot, illus. by Alyssa Koski
When the couple's daughter and two grandchildren come to visit, they reminisce about the old songs, and their activities like making maple sugar candy and weaving baskets from birch bark. With a wish, maple and birch trees then appear, along with spruce, and the elderly couple get to work tapping the trees and boiling sap, as well as cutting strips of bark and gathering roots for baskets. Moreover they can now share with their grandchildren the skills of those springtime activities.

When summer comes and the old woman remembers picking saskatoon berries for bannock and winter storage, she laments how far away they are from the berries now. With a clap of thunder and a heave of the ground, a trail appears and saskatoon berries materialize everywhere. It is finally then that the old woman looks out over their new home and land, and recognizes that, "It's good here."
From kā-āciwīkicik / The Move by Doris George and Don K. Philpot, illus. by Alyssa Koski

Though there are supernatural elements to Doris George and Don K. Philpot's story, it is a story rooted in reality and history. Their "Authors' Note" recalls the building of a dam in northern Manitoba in the early 1960s and the relocation of the Chemawawin Cree Nation from ancestral lands. It's the contrast of the old with the new but also the establishment of a new familiarity that is significant. What the Cree couple leave behind is tradition, family, culture and home. But, they are able to re-establish all, with a little spiritual assistance, to continue providing for themselves and others and build a new life. While the disruption caused by forced relocations is very real, authors Doris George and Don K. Philpot emphasize that the quality of life travels with the couple. With their resilience, they make it work.  

Alyssa Koski of Kainai Nation transitions the couple from the greyness of their stark new land to its promise. She gives us contemplation in the old woman's face, purpose in their activities, and hope in the lushness of the new greenness. By juxtaposing the real with the unreal, Alyssa Koski takes us into Doris George and Don K. Philpot's First Nation experience story of ancestry, upheaval and survival and, with colour and shape, shows us the continuity that inspires and reassures.

October 01, 2021

Ga's / The Train

Written by Jodie Callaghan
Illustrated by Georgia Lesley
Interpreted/translated by Joe Wilmot
Second Story Press
978-1-77260-200-5
36 pp.
Ages 6-9
September 2021

With National Day for Truth and Reconciliation being recognized yesterday, there has been an important push for greater understanding about the impact of residential schools on Indigenous people. Jodie Callaghan and Georgia Lesley's book The Train, first winner of the Second Story Press Indigenous Writing Contest, was on the book list I prepared to help educators and parents address the topic of residential schools. However, with a new dual-language edition–Mi'gmaw and English–released recently, I thought it was appropriate to review this meaningful book now.

From Ga's / The Train by Jodie Callaghan, illus. by Georgia Lesley, interpreted/translated by Joe Wilmot

A young Ashley is walking home from school through fields and weed-covered train tracks along the dirt road that leads to the old train station when she is surprised to be met by her uncle. She is perplexed when, in answer to her question about what he is doing there, he claims that he is waiting for the train. They both know that the train no longer runs here, but he explains that he's sad that their people have forgotten about this place.

From Ga's / The Train by Jodie Callaghan, illus. by Georgia Lesley, interpreted/translated by Joe Wilmot
Uncle remembers when the train would come infrequently and bring supplies. Then one day, he and his three eldest siblings were sent to the train with other children from the village and taken to a school where their clothes and baskets were taken away and their hair cut off. 
We weren't allowed to speak our language. We weren't allowed to be Nnu.

From Ga's / The Train by Jodie Callaghan, illus. by Georgia Lesley, interpreted/translated by Joe Wilmot

Uncle tells his niece how that train changed everything. But, he is hopeful that things will be okay some day, as he hears and sees the joy in her and her sister's play.

"I wanted you to know where your family has come from, Ashley. So you can be proud of where you are going."
Still he comes to remember and to wait for what was lost to come back. Now, Ashley offers to wait with him.
 
As with all stories of residential school survivors, there is heartbreak. It's for the loss of lives, of language, of family, of culture. It's also a bone deep legacy. Ashley's uncle needs to revisit this scene of tragedy, hopeful that slowly it will become something different for him. And now Ashley can help him in his waiting and remembering and grief. By matching the then and now with a significant intergenerational relationship, Jodie Callaghan of Listuguj Mi'gmaq First Nation demonstrates the long-lasting tragedy of the residential schools while suggesting that healing will come from younger generations. They are still impacted by what their elders experienced but they want to help in going forward, as they can. Jodie Callaghan's text is both rooted in the past and the future, much like a train moving from there to here, and is both anguished and expectant. The tragedy is acknowledged and healing awaited.
From Ga's / The Train by Jodie Callaghan, illus. by Georgia Lesley, interpreted/translated by Joe Wilmot
Georgia Lesley's artwork similarly depicts the contrast of the then and now, differentiating between the starkness and dullness of a wretched past in a residential school with the brightness and promise of a niece's company in a lively meadow in sunshine. Georgia Lesley's paintings have an organic feel to them, very much a grass-roots atmosphere, reflecting Uncle's candour and Ashley's readiness to learn and help.

In Ga's / The Train's powerful preface, it is revealed that Joe Wilmot, also of Listuguj First Nation, interpreted/translated The Train into Mi'gmaw in response to his own mother's loss of language with her subjection to residential school. He hoped "that this book will be a reminder of all that was left behind at the residential school." Sadly there was far too much left behind. Still, the telling of these stories helps bring them from the shadows into the light of now, offering opportunities for better.

April 12, 2021

Mii maanda ezhi-gkendmaanh/This is How I Know

Written by Brittany Luby
Illustrated by Joshua Mangeshig Pawis-Steckley
Translated by Alvin Ted Corbiere and Alan Corbiere
Groundwood Books
978-1-77306-326-3
44 pp.
All ages
March 2021 

Written in Anishinaabemowin and English, this gorgeous picture book lets readers accompany a child and her grandmother as they take in the small and tremendous wonders of the natural world as it transforms in each season.

Beginning with Aaniish ezhi-gkendmaanh niibing? or How do I know summer is here?, the pair travel by canoe to pick blueberries. There is the Loon on the water and the green Luna Moth in the birch trees, bumblebees and fireweed in blossom, and hot sand. This summer outing ends with...
Mii maanda ezhi-gkenmaanh niibing.
This is how I know summer.
From Mii maanda ezhi-gkendmaanh/This is How I Know by Brittany Luby, illus. by Joshua Mangeshig Pawis-Steckley
In the fall, grandmother and child, with an enthusiastic dog, walk the shore and forest to witness the cattails swelling, and animals like the Red-Winged Blackbird, Black Bear and Mallard, before picking orange mushrooms.
From Mii maanda ezhi-gkendmaanh/This is How I Know by Brittany Luby, illus. by Joshua Mangeshig Pawis-Steckley
Winter comes and, with the hot cereal, warm coats and boots for the child and her grandmother, come the animals outdoors responding too. The Deer strip the cedar trees, the Mouse finds shelter inside and the Woodpecker, Blue Jay, and Fox do their own winter thing.
From Mii maanda ezhi-gkendmaanh/This is How I Know by Brittany Luby, illus. by Joshua Mangeshig Pawis-Steckley
Finally comes spring with the black ice softening, the green shoots peeking out of the snow, a Gull roosting, the dog having puppies and the spring Peeper singing, "Good night, little one."
 
Mii maanda ezhi-gkendmaanh/This is How I Know is such a sensory read of words and art. I may not be able to appreciate the Anishinaabemowin text (as translated by father and son Alvin Ted Corbiere and Alan Corbiere of M'Chigeeng First Nation) for its quality of sound and rhythms but Brittany Luby's words in English saturate the reader with the experience of being outdoors and savouring the textures and colours of the natural world in its transformations through the seasons. Whether she speaks of the plants or the animals, the weather or the sky, Brittany Luby, who is of Anishinaabe descent, draws us into the wholeness of the season, sharing its quietness and roar, subtlety or outburst, as nature chooses, as seen from a special intergenerational relationship.
When insects billow black from the trees,
and the sun slips into an orange dream.
The power of her words are matched wholeheartedly by the dynamic intensity of Joshua Mangeshig Pawis-Steckley's artwork. A member of Wasauksing First Nation, Joshua Mangeshig Pawis-Steckley depicts the world of land and sky, animals and plants in a woodland style, digitally rendered with vibrant colours and shapes outlined with dark lines. The illustrations have a two-dimensional feel but are lush in form and hue that are both calming and energized, lending a naturalness to the story.
From Mii maanda exhi-gkendmaanh/This is How I Know by Brittany Luby, illus. by Joshua Mangeshig Pawis-Steckley
For those who understand Anishinaabemowin, there will be another layer of story to Mii maanda ezhi-gkendmaanh/This is How I Know to which I am not privy. Still, with only the English text and artwork accessible to me, Mii maanda ezhi-gkendmaanh/This is How I Know is a triumph of art, literal and graphic, that invites readers to use all their senses to appreciate the splendour of nature through the seasons.

February 28, 2019

Takannaaluk

Written by Herve Paniaq
Illustrated by Germaine Arnaktauyok
Inhabit Media
978–1-77227-181-2
32 pp.
Ages 5-9
November 2018

In another outstanding Inuit origin story picture book from Inhabit Media, Igloolik elder Herve Paniaq tells the haunting tale of the mythological mother of the sea mammals, Takannaaluk, also known as Nuliajuk and Kannaaluk.
From Takannaaluk by Herve Paniaq, illus. by Germaine Arnaktauyok
Though her parents wish her to marry so there would be another man around to help out, their only daughter refuses all those who ask her and so she is called Uinigumasuittuq, the one who never wanted to marry. Men appear, though they are animals such as the caribou and the bearded seal transformed into persons, and she refuses them all. When a very tall and handsome man, seated in his qajaq and wearing snow goggles, calls to her, she goes with him. It's not until much later in their journey that she sees he has been sitting on a stool and his legs are very, very short and he has scary red eyes. She realizes she has been tricked as he is a fulmar, a type of seabird, transformed into a man but he refuses to let her go back to her parents. Uinigumasuittuq has no choice but to go with the man and learn how to be his wife.
From Takannaaluk by Herve Paniaq, illus. by Germaine Arnaktauyok
But then her father, who'd been so adamant about marrying his daughter off, decides to bring her back home and away from her horrible husband. When the husband pursues them, Uinigumasuittu's father ridicules his son-in-law who transforms into a fulmar, flying in such a way to cause the winds to pick up. Her angry father throws Uinigumasuittuq into the water and, as she clings to the side of his boat, he chops at her fingers with his knife. Where her fingers fall, seals appear.
From Takannaaluk by Herve Paniaq, illus. by Germaine Arnaktauyok
Her father, guilt-ridden at his actions, kills himself by drowning in the encroaching tides and Uinigumasuittuq, lost to the water, becomes known as Takannaaluk which means "the one down there" and becomes feared and revered as the legendary mother of the sea animals.

Herve Paniaq's retelling of this Inuit myth has the richness of great storytelling. There are villains and victims, choices and consequences, conflict and resolution. But this origin story becomes extraordinary with the illustrations by Germaine Arnaktauyok. I have always believed picture book illustrations are works of art but Germaine Arnaktauyok's images should be in art galleries. They are gorgeous, rich in colour and shape, culturally relevant and wholly appropriate for a story from the Arctic, making Takannaaluk bewitching as well as edifying.

February 12, 2019

Bear for Breakfast / Makwa kidji kijebà wìsiniyàn

Written by Robert Munsch
Illustrated by Jay Odjick
Translated by Joan Commanda Tenasco
Scholastic Canada
978-1-4431-7511-1
32 pp.
Ages 3-8
February 2019

Robert Munsch's picture books have become a staple of youngCanLit from the publication of his first book almost 40 years ago and, with Bear for Breakfast / Makwa kidji kijebà wìsiniyàn, Robert Munsch continues to provide diversity in his story-telling, always honouring young readers whose lives provide the basis for his tales.

After young Donovan bemoans that there is nothing to eat, much to his mother's surprise who has filled the refrigerator with her shopping, he is reminded of his grandfather telling him he used to eat bear for breakfast. So grabbing a rope, Donovan heads out to snag a bear for their breakfast.  With the "thump, thump, thump, thump, thump" of his feet, and calling out "Bear, bear, bear, bear, bear!" Donovan is often answered by a refrain of "Kid, kid, kid, kid, kid!" Spotting an ant or a squirrel or a dog, he shoos them away. But when a bear appears to his call and growls at the boy, Donovan starts to tiptoe away, before walking quickly with a pat, pat, pat and finally running with a whomp, whomp, whomp as fast as he can home, though with the bear following. It's only after Donovan's grandfather takes a frying pan to the bear who has crashed into the house that they are able to finally eat breakfast, and it is definitely not bear.
From Bear for Breakfast by Robert Munsch, illus. by Jay Odjick
Bear for Breakfast / Makwa kidji kijebà wìsiniyàn has all the trademark Robert Munsch elements of a child's bravado, humour in all the right places, and repetitive lines and action sounds that little ones will want to help read. Though many will not be familiar with eating bear for breakfast, those children for whom it is not unfamiliar will appreciate acknowledgement of their experiences. To help embed that experience, this edition is a dual-language one of English and Algonquin, translated by Joan Commanda Tenasco. Useful for children familiar with one language and learning a second, dual-language books have been suitable for English-language learners but recently they have become increasingly popular in Canada to help preserve Indigenous languages. Although I have seen Cree, Inuktitut, Michif and Mi'kmaq editions of dual language books, this is the first I've seen in Algonquin and, by providing a translation of a Robert Munsch story, Bear for Breakfast / Makwa kidji kijebà wìsiniyàn will win new readers across cultures.
From Bear for Breakfast by Robert Munsch, illus. by Jay Odjick
Moreover, with Anishinàbe artist Jay Odjick's illustrations to add veracity to Robert Munsch's words, Bear for Breakfast / Makwa kidji kijebà wìsiniyàn becomes more of an Indigenous cultural experience than a silly animal story. From the outdoor scenes of coniferous forests, typical of La Loche, Saskatchewan, the home of the Donovan who inspired the story, to the boy's home's decorations of a thunderbird and other Indigenous art, Jay Odjick ensures a genuineness to Donovan's story. Though young children will be able to see themselves and their family in Donovan and his mom and grandfather, little touches like Donovan's T-shirt with a feather and his grandfather's braids add a distinction that shows respect for another culture and its ways of living.

Whether you choose the English edition of Bear for Breakfast or the dual language edition of Bear for Breakfast / Makwa kidji kijebà wìsiniyàn (there are also French and French-Algonquin editions), there will be enlightening discussions about cultural meal choices along with animated story-telling. Clap, clap, clap.