In honor of Native American Heritage Month, we spoke with the creators of six children’s books out this year highlighting different aspects of Indigenous culture and life in their works.


Violet Duncan

What was the initial impetus for your story?

The spark for this story ignited from my children’s journey of discovery concerning the Indian residential school system—a topic that weighs heavily on our hearts. It’s a chapter in our shared history marked by profound sadness and loss, where we struggle to find any silver linings. Yet, amid this darkness, I am deeply inspired by the resilience of my parents, grandparents, and ancestors who endured such harrowing experiences. My children’s learning process has reminded me that we can approach this painful history with compassion and love. Their innocence and curiosity shine a light on the importance of remembrance—not just to recognize the past but to honor the strength and endurance of those who came before us. This story is a bridge that connects their understanding with the lessons of love and kindness, proving that even in the face of sorrow, we can find hope and unity.

What is at the core of the relationship between tween Summer and Buffalo Dreamer, the girl who appears in Summer’s dreams?

At the heart of Summer and Buffalo Dreamer’s relationship lies a poignant contrast that resonates deeply. Both girls are the same age, yet their realities could not be more different: one is grappling with the fight for her life, while the other is navigating the everyday joys and challenges of childhood. This dichotomy serves as a powerful reminder that no child should have to bear the weight of such burdens at such a tender age. During this crucial stage of development, young individuals deserve to be enveloped in love, respect, and support, allowing them to flourish and thrive. Through their connection, I hope to illuminate the strength and resilience that young people possess, often underestimated by the adults around them. Their bond is a call to action for us all to nurture and uplift our youth, ensuring they feel valued and empowered in every step of their journey.

Congratulations on being a finalist for the National Book Award for Young People’s Literature. How does it feel to have your story spotlighted in this way?

Thank you so much! Being named a finalist is an incredible honor that truly resonates with the heart of why I wrote this story. It’s a heartfelt tribute to my father, a way of saying, “We see you, we love you, and we stand with you.” It’s also a message to my children, affirming their bravery and intelligence. I want them to know how proud I am of their spirit and their determination to speak out against injustice. This recognition on such a prestigious platform signifies a collective stand against silence—an acknowledgment that we will not be mere spectators in the face of injustice. It’s a powerful affirmation that our stories matter and that we are united in our commitment to honor the past while advocating for a brighter future. To me, this moment is not just a personal triumph; it's a celebration of our shared journey towards understanding, healing, and hope.

Buffalo Dreamer by Violet Duncan. Penguin/Paulsen, $17.99 ISBN 978-0-593-62481-4


Cynthia Leitich Smith

What was the initial impetus for this your story?

I longed to write a humorous, healing story drawing from modern Muscogee folklore. Having authored both realistic and fantastical children’s fiction, it felt glorious to toss off mainstream expectations and fully embrace the wonder within an intertribal sensibility. That approach opened the possibility of pairing everyday Native kids and their Grampa Halfmoon with talking animal characters like Great-Grandfather Bat and feisty Gray Squirrel. What’s more, I was able to pit them against bumbling baddies and hint at a mysterious creature of the forest—all in a story that brings them home to ancestral lands.

Why did you feel a road trip was the best vehicle to showcase the various relationships in the book?

Great-Grandfather Bat—whose wing is on the mend—needs help to travel from Chicago to the Ocmulgee Mounds outside of Macon, Georgia. So, on one level, the journey is logistical, but the trip also provides a ticking clock as Bat must arrive prior to a ballgame between the Animals and Birds. The road tip showcases a variety of settings for adventures and encounters with the story’s villains. It also keeps our heroes connected to the land, to the natural world, and offer glimpses into urban Native characters and Indigenous life in smaller towns, tribal towns, and rural settings.

What role does community play in your book?

On the road trip, the heroes are aided by family, the intertribal community, and new friends—both Native and not—whom they meet along the way. They’re also in contact with animal relatives and a tall, hairy creature who some of us believe lives deep in forests.

On a Wing and a Tear by Cynthia Leitich Smith. HarperCollins/Heartdrum, $18.99 ISBN 978-0-06-287000-1


Cameron Mukwa

What was the initial impetus for your story?

When I set out to write this novel, the core narrative was led by one idea: what book would have been life-changing for me if I’d read it as a child? So that was the reason I wrote The Ribbon Skirt, knowing that there are so many Two Spirit and transgender kids out there, feeling a little out of place, and very small in a big world that doesn’t seem to understand them at all. I wanted to make the world a little less scary and show kids of all kinds that even when friends or family may not understand you, there are others who do. From ancestors to nature and beyond, there will always be those who want to hold you up and celebrate you for who you really are.


What significance does the ribbon skirt hold for you?

Some readers may not be aware, but a ribbon skirt is traditionally a feminine article of clothing. I don’t present the same way as Anang does, and I’ve actually struggled over whether or not I’m allowed to wear a ribbon skirt as well! At the end of the day, I firmly believe that anyone who wants to wear a ribbon skirt, or ribbon shirt, or even ribbon pants, can feel free to do so. Our traditions are there to support us, and gender roles, while helpful, should not hold us back from being our full selves. To me, a ribbon skirt is a powerful symbol of resistance and craftsmanship. And if someone feels drawn to wear a ribbon skirt, then they should be celebrated for that.

How does Anang come to embrace their heritage regardless of their peers’ opinions?

At first, it is difficult for Anang to see that who they are is someone to be proud of. Through the support of spirits, nature beings (such as the crows, turtles, and the lake itself), Anang goes on a journey of discovery and bravery to realize that being their full Two Spirit self is the most powerful thing someone can do. And, if all the spirits and nature beings are there to support them, it’s a lot easier to deal with the fact that not everyone will understand. They don’t have to, because if Anang can believe in themselves, that’s all they need. The power to be brave was inside of them the whole time.

The Ribbon Skirt by Cameron Mukwa. Scholastic/Graphix, $12.99 Nov. 12 ISBN 978-1-338-84325-5


Dawn Quigley

What was the initial impetus for your story?

This story has been in the works for 30 years. My first teaching job was at a Minneapolis Native American urban housing complex in the Education Center. I met incredible young Native kids who all were a part of a community—each with different strengths and challenges. Yet, these Native youth uplifted each other, and me, too! So many times, people assume Native people mostly live on a Reservation, but the Minneapolis metro area has the second highest Native population outside of Los Angeles. These kids were so generous with their time, humor and bringing me into their lives. When I left they even threw me my first-ever surprise good-bye party! Yes, I cried. And ate their delicious homemade cake.

How did you want to address the Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women crisis in a story for a young audience?

Opening any newspaper in any city across North American brings the heartbreaking news of a Missing or Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls (#MMIWG). As an educator for over 30 years, I’ve learned the message you send a child when you speak, but even more importantly, when you don’t speak about a topic. If we remain silent on #MMIWG, we are mirroring the absence of our Native relatives and their loved ones. Again, as an educator I understand the need to bring this issue to young readers in a developmentally appropriate way for their age. I wanted to allow all readers to understand, to be aware of #MMIWG and to bring home our relatives.

Why was it important to showcase how Ariel and Tomah support their community, even through hardships?

Every dusk has its dawn. Every tragedy can have its triumph. I wanted to offer light to my readers since too often Native stories for youth are focus on loss: loss of land, loss of Native children through Boarding Schools, and loss of clean water through fracking and oil pipelines. Yes, absolutely we must teach these aspects of Native history, language, and culture. Yet, we are still here! We, together in community, can overcome tragedy to lead happy and fulfilling lives. This is why I wrote about, and highlighted, Ariel and Tomah contributing to the community’s life.

Red Bird Danced by Dawn Quigley. HarperCollins/ Heartdrum, $18.99 ISBN 978-0-06-322362-2.


Anna Rose Johnson

What was the initial impetus for this story?

Lucy Landry first began to take shape back in 2021, when I watched a webinar about women lighthouse keepers of the Great Lakes. I already knew that I wanted to write a story with a lighthouse setting, and I thought this could be the perfect springboard to spark an idea—and it was! I learned so much from the webinar, which led me to think about what life would have been like for the children of lighthouse keepers. Soon, the concept for Lucy was born!

Why did you decide to include Anishinaabe text throughout the novel?

During my research on Michigan lighthouse keepers and their families, I found that quite a few were of Ojibwe descent. As a member of the Sault Ste. Marie Tribe of Chippewa Indians—and having already written about Ojibwe characters in my first book, The Star That Always Stays—I realized that I wanted to tell a story of a French-Ojibwe family. I also wanted to show Lucy connecting with her heritage by learning Anishinaabe words from her new family, the Martins. The Martins are teaching Anishinaabemowin to their children because they’re aware of how quickly the knowledge of language can fade, and they want to preserve their heritage. By helping Lucy to start learning Anishinaabemowin, they’re able to help her embrace a part of herself that she never knew much about, which I found to be thematically important.

What does Lucy learn throughout her journey about acceptance and family?

Lucy, an only child, comes to accept that while family life is completely different than anything she’s known before, it’s also wonderful. In addition to learning that we have courage inside us even if we don’t realize it, Lucy learns the true importance of family, and her newfound sense of belonging in the Martin family helps her to fully embrace herself.

The Luminous Life of Lucy Landry by Anna Rose Johnson. Holiday House, $18.99 ISBN 978-0-8234-5363-4


Traci Sorell

What was the initial impetus for your story?

I just wanted to write a board book or picture book about a child moving that wasn’t as sad as those I found when I looked at the library.

Why did you want to craft a book around the meaningful experience of returning home?

My husband, son, and I would visit my family or attend Cherokee Nation events within the tribe’s reservation in the northeast corner of Oklahoma. When we’d leave to drive back to our home outside Kansas City, my son would always say, “Why can’t we stay here? Why do we have to leave?” Less than six months after I started crafting the story in early 2018, my family relocated to the reservation where I was born and spent my childhood. Many other Cherokee families were moving back from places they’d gone for educational or professional opportunities too. I noticed in my networks that many other Native people were doing the same across the country.

So, I began to shape the story to focus on that celebratory feeling and sense of homecoming we experienced, and others had found too. For our children, like the girl in the book, they felt at home and were eager to move—even though they hadn’t lived there previously.

How did collaborating with Michaela Goade on this tale bring a new perspective?

I first talked to her about the story at ALA in 2019 because I loved her art in the books she made with the Sealaska Heritage Institute. I was so happy when she said she was interested in illustrating. Since it features a Cherokee family moving to the reservation, I provided photos of Cherokee people, roads, landscapes, flora and fauna there. I appreciated how she would email questions about what she needed to know to create the art. I was delighted she was drawn to the bright pink in our sunrises, sunsets, and redbud trees.

I respect how this book involved a lot of “creative discomfort” for her, as she says. I love that she taps into young Michaela and shares art styles from her childhood to find her way into the story as well as teaching herself how to draw cityscapes and cars. The many layers of detailed art in each spread elevate the story beyond anything I imagined. I’ll always be grateful for her accepting the challenge. We have a beautiful book to share with the world.

Being Home by Traci Sorell, illus. by Michaela Goade. Penguin/Kokila, $18.99 ISBN 978-1-984816-03-0