More than a book: Why representation matters.
This past Friday I had the pleasure to present to the BCTLA (BC Teacher Librarian Association) . I know that if I were to go back and follow a different path in education, I know that I would be a teacher librarian for sure. I love books, I love reading books, talking about books, and writing books. So, I feel like I was in my element and with likeminded people. I centred my talk around my newest picture book Tess’s Red Dress and representation and why it matters.
I wrote Tess’s Red Dress to highlight and talk about Red Dress day for grades K-3 because before Tess, there were no books for this age group. I also wanted to highlight Indigenous voices in the classroom from Indigenous peoples.
I was so lucky to have been gifted the privilege to work with Kelsey Mata Foote on this project because how she brought Tess’s story to life was amazing. She picked up on so many beautiful things about my family and culture and they shine through in her artwork. I am so lucky to have worked with her and call her my friend.
The beautiful representation of West Coast Indigenous Peoples in this book is a highlight of this work. We were very intentional with how the Indigenous people were represented in the book, with cultural items from both Kelasey’s and my culture. There is a Coast Salish shawl in Tess’s closet that looks like a shawl I wove. The big auntie earrings. There is a mask on the final pages that looks like Kelsey’s brothers mask, there is canned salmon and ladies making Bannock. All of these pieces of culture matter for Coast Salish students.
Representation Is More Than Seeing Ourselves in a Book
When I think about representation, I think about more than simply having Indigenous characters appear on the pages of a book. I think about the importance of Indigenous children seeing their families, their communities, their cultures, and their everyday lives reflected in the stories being shared in their classrooms.
I think about a little Coast Salish child opening Tess's Red Dress and recognizing the earrings their aunties wear, the food their family makes, the shawls they have seen at gatherings, or the relationships between generations that are so important within our communities. These may seem like small details to some readers, but they are not small to the children who recognize them. These details tell children that their families matter, their cultures matter, and their stories belong in books.
I was also very intentional when writing Tess, that I did not want to speak about our community through a deficit or a trauma-based lens, I wanted to tell the story of Matriarchs, love, and family.Throughout the book, Auntie is missing, but she is alive throughout the pages, through the stories mom shares, through the eyes of Tess, and the connections from one generation to the next.
We are more than the things that have happened to us.
We as Indigenous Peoples are artists, storytellers, knowledge keepers, aunties, uncles, grandparents, and children. We are people filled with love, big Auntie laughs, creativity, strength, and brilliance. Our cultures are living, breathing, and evolving, and our children deserve to see that reflected in the literature they read.
This is one of the reasons I wrote Tess's Red Dress. I wanted to create a story that could introduce young children to Red Dress Day without centring the story entirely on violence and loss. Instead, I wanted to centre love and Matriarchs. I wanted children to understand the importance of family, the relationships we carry, and why we honour and remember the Indigenous women, girls, and Two-Spirit people who are missing or have been murdered.
I believe we can teach difficult histories through stories that also hold space for love, dignity, and hope.
Who Gets to Tell Our Stories?
Another very important conversation I shared with the teacher librarians was about who is telling the stories of Indigenous Peoples. For generations, our stories have been written, interpreted, and shared by people outside our communities. Indigenous Peoples have often been positioned as the subjects of stories rather than the storytellers themselves. This has contributed to stereotyping, misunderstandings, and representations that do not reflect the richness and diversity of who we are as people.
When we bring books written and illustrated by Indigenous creators into our classrooms, we are doing more than adding diversity to our shelves. We are making and creating space for Indigenous voices, histories, experiences, and ways of knowing. This is invaluable and needs to be held with great care.
We also have to recognize that there is no single Indigenous story. There are over 600 distinct First Nations communities across Canada, each with their own histories, cultures, languages, teachings, and relationships to the land. A book about one Indigenous community cannot possibly represent all Indigenous Peoples.
This is why the specific Coast Salish representation within Tess's Red Dress matters so deeply to me. I wanted children from our communities to recognize themselves in the story, but I also wanted children outside our communities to understand that Indigenous Peoples are not one homogeneous group. We have distinct identities, distinct cultures, and distinct stories. All of them deserve space.
Thankful for Teacher Librarians
As I stood in front of a room filled with teacher librarians on Friday, I couldn't help but think about the incredible responsibility and opportunity these educators hold. Teacher librarians are not simply the people who look after books. They are the people who help shape the stories children have access to. They introduce students to new worlds, new perspectives, and new understandings of themselves and others.They also have the opportunity to challenge the stories that have historically dominated our schools.
I talk about the importance of Re-Storying education. For me, this means critically examining the narratives that have shaped our understanding of Indigenous Peoples and asking ourselves whose stories have been centred, whose have been left out, and what needs to change. A school library is a powerful place to begin this work.
Imagine a library where Indigenous stories are not confined to a display during Indigenous History Month or confined in a section by itself, or brought out only for Orange Shirt Day or Red Dress Day. Imagine Indigenous stories belonging throughout the library, across genres, across grade levels, and throughout the entire school year.Stories of Indigenous scientists, artists, athletes, leaders, families, children, and communities. Stories of humour, imagination, resistance, belonging, and Brilliance. They should belong in the everyday stories that shape how children understand the world. And this is where teacher librarians have such an important role to play.
From Representation to Responsibility
Some of the questions I hope educators take away from my presentation is this:
What stories are the children in your school being told about Indigenous Peoples?
Are they stories that reinforce the idea that Indigenous Peoples belong only in the past?
Are they stories that focus entirely on trauma?
Are they stories written by Indigenous Peoples themselves?
And perhaps most importantly, do Indigenous children see themselves reflected in the books they are reading?
Representation is important, but representation also comes with responsibility.
It is not enough to simply purchase an Indigenous book and put it on the shelf. We need to read these books, share them, celebrate them, and make meaningful connections to the learning happening in our classrooms. We need to be intentional about the books we choose and thoughtful about the stories we are telling.
I want educators to move beyond asking, "Do I have an Indigenous book in my classroom?" and begin asking, "What understanding of Indigenous Peoples are the books in my classroom creating?" Because those are two very different questions.
The Stories We Tell Matter
As I reflect on my time with the BCTLA, I am reminded again why I love books so much. Books have the ability to open conversations, challenge thinking, build relationships, and create spaces of belonging.
For me, Tess's Red Dress is so much more than a story about Red Dress Day. It is a story about family, love, memory, Matriarchs and the importance of honouring the people who make us who we are. It is also a story that I hope allows Indigenous children to see pieces of themselves, their families, and their communities reflected with beauty and dignity. And for non-Indigenous children, I hope it opens a window into a family and culture they may not have encountered before, inviting them to see the love, relationships, and humanity that connect us.
I am grateful to the teacher librarians who welcomed me into their gathering and who continue to do the important work of making space for stories that have too often been left out.
I hope that as educators we continue to ask ourselves not only what stories we are sharing, but what stories are missing. Because when we change the stories children encounter, we have the opportunity to change how they see themselves, how they see others, and how they understand the world around them.
