Giju's Gift (Adventures of the Pugulatmu'j)

Written by Brandon Mitchell

Illustrated by Veronika Barinova

HighWater Press

978-1-55379-947-4

88 pp.

Ages 6-9

February 2022

In a new series of graphic novels inspired by traditional stories, author Brandon Mitchell draws on his Mi'kmaq heritage and introduces the pugulatmu'j, the Little People who are guardians of the land.

From Giju's Gift by Brandon Mitchell, illus. by Veronika Barinova

While out strawberry picking, young Mali trips and loses her precious beaded hair clip that once belong to her grandmother (Giju'). But, though it seems no one believes her, Mali knows it was stolen, seeing a little person grab it as well as a basket of strawberries. Her auntie tells her of the pugulatmu'j, the Little People who live high in the mountains and like to play tricks on people to keep them alert. 

 

When she goes outside to play, she catches a little person about to steal a cooling pie. Puug, as he is called, is surprised that she can see him but promises to return her hair clip if she helps him gather some much needed supplies. During their scavenging, they see a jenu, a giant who is consumed by anger and determined to destroy all. 

 

With a little help from Mali's grandfather (Nemijgami) and an important, though chilling, stop at an abandoned residential school, the two new friends are able to put the spirit of jenu at rest and allow Puug his intention to protect the memories of the past.

It's our goal to collect as many moments as we can. (pg. 52)

From Giju's Gift by Brandon Mitchell, illus. by Veronika Barinova

Writing for early readers or early middle graders is a tough job in trying to tell a complete story while being sensitive and cognizant of the readers. Brandon Mitchell is able to create a story that shares elements of Mi'kmaq culture, including its folklore and history, as well as touching on the tragedy of residential schools. But, more than anything, Brandon Mitchell emphasizes the importance of holding onto the memories, whether it's by gathering items as the pugulatmu'j did or cherishing those inherited from our ancestors. To that end, Brandon Mitchell even includes instructions for young readers to create their own memories boxes to commemorate important times. 

Because Brandon Mitchell's story is told as a graphic novel, the visuals are important in conveying more of the story that cannot be told in the limited text of Giju's Gift. This is especially valuable for young readers as they transition from picture books to chapter books. Artist Veronika Barinova makes sure that her illustrations are relatively plain and uncomplicated, with the emphasis on the characters and their actions and vocalizations. She gives the right balance of creepy (jenu) and innocent (Mali) with settings of house and outdoors that are general enough to be familiar. 

With this easy blend of text and art, Brandon Mitchell and Veronika Barinova ensure that young readers will be coaxed to read more about the Adventures of the Pugulatmu'j (this is only the first book in the series) and perhaps learn about the Mi'kmaq, as well as appreciate the importance of memories and traditional stories.

Aggie and Mudgy: The Journey of Two Kaska Dena Childen

 

Written by Wendy Proverbs

Wandering Fox (Heritage House)

978-1-77203-375-5

144 pp.

Ages 8-12

November 2021

They were lost in a void, 

not understanding where they would end up. (pg. 99)

While there are an increasing number of middle-grade books about residential schools, few discuss the journeys that Indigenous children were forced to take from their home to get to those residential schools. Aggie and Mudgy is one such story. But it's also a tale of loss: of family, of names, of culture. And it is as painful as their journey.

 

In contemporary Vancouver, eight-year-old Maddy has found an old photo in her Nan's desk and begs her grandmother to tell her the story of the two little girls. And so Nan does, recounting the story of two young sisters from Daylu, a Kasha Dena community on the BC-Yukon border. As history has shown us, the arrival of those of the Catholic church brought much change, as it did in Daylu, where the First Nations people were first forcibly assimilated by being renamed. 

When we name something, it gives us a kind of ownership, doesn't it? (pg. 96)

Sisters Mac-kinnay and Beep were renamed Agnes and Martha but they called themselves Aggie and Mudgy. Then two years later, the young sisters, only 6 and 8, were taken away by Father Allard to go to school far away. How far away they could not have known.

Though leaving their home would have been frightening, the beginning of their journey starts with some comfort and familiarity as the priest employs two Indigenous brothers to transport them down the Liard River. The landscape, the food and the language are still their own. But after 300 km, their journey after Dease Lake becomes one of newness. As the priest and the girls travel six weeks by mail truck, paddle wheeler boat, steamship and train to the Lejac Residential School at Fraser Lake in central BC, the girls soon realized that their old ways would not be tolerated. Not the language they spoke, not the way they looked, nor the joys they savoured in the outdoors. And if Priest Allard and the nuns who aided them in their journey were not pleased, the children were shamed and beaten.

They couldn't respect different people and cultures, and if the children didn't obey, some priests and nuns could be very cruel. (pg. 47)

The girls' journey with Father Allard was just over 1600 km but it was just the beginning of the inevitable trauma that would be their residency at the Lejac school. Wendy Proverbs could have walked us into that school with Aggie and Mudgy but she knew that the journey of these two Kaska Dena children was important enough to be highlighted. Still, the story is told to enlighten and to acknowledge, not traumatize-it doesn't, though it could have– and by revealing her own personal connection (see "Author's Note" and "Acknowledgements" in Aggie and Mudgy), and giving Nan one as well, Wendy Proverbs has made the sisters' story both restrained and profound. Don't be surprised if a tear is shed.

Because Aggie and Mudgy tells a story within a story, with fiction embracing history, Wendy Proverbs, herself of Kaska Dena descent, has honoured her heritage and her ancestors. In fact, a nod of appreciation should be given to her as she does to others in her acknowledgements for sharing Aggie and Mudgy and purposefully shaking up the universe with truth.

Final appreciation to all of our ancestors who led the way for future generations to speak, dance, create, and indeed disturb the universe. (pg. 130)