Neither Muir nor Sellars pay much attention to Indigenous communities living in or near national parks—Dispossessing the Wilderness puts the lie to the claim that Native peoples were afraid of or have vanished from these places. Spence examines the Indigenous histories of Yellowstone, Glacier, and Yosemite, and concludes that while white federal officials expended a tremendous amount of energy promoting the myth that the nation’s national parks are “uninhabited wildernesses,” Indigenous communities have continued to claim them in various ways. Compelling and wide-ranging in its analysis, this is a must-read for fans of the national park system.

The unique protagonist is the main reason I loved this novel. Cash Blackbear is a young Objibwe woman in North Dakota with a strong sixth sense that leads her to clues. Cash gets visions that she can’t ignore. She teams with local Sheriff Wheaton, who trusts her insights even though he doesn’t understand them. Wheaton has been a father figure/mentor since she was a child left adrift in one abusive foster home after another.

I loved their sometimes awkward yet tender interactions. The author, who is Native American, expertly weaves in the rich tapestry of American indigenous culture and life. Additionally, this is a great whodunnit with plot twists that I thoroughly enjoyed. 

This is the first book I’ve read about an Indigenous woman seeking to work with Indigenous women in other countries. I love the vivid, brutal honesty of the author, a Northwest Karuk tribe member named Ursula Pike, who reflects on her trying experiences as a young Peace Corps worker in Bolivia.

She is open about her sexuality, her anxieties, her failures, and her hopelessly naïve belief that because she is of indigenous heritage, she will have a special connection with the native people of Bolivia. She must come to recognize that she has privilege within the poor village where she is placed, and her life and perspectives are vastly different from the Bolivians.

I could not put the book down as I learned in every chapter how Pike willingly interrogates herself, the Peace Corps, and the larger subject of cultural privilege. I am grateful to have learned from her struggles.

One thing my research has shown me is that Indian tribes differ from each other in most ways. Still, they do share some values—those of mutual aid, honesty, and respect for Mother Nature.

I found that this compilation of distinct Indian voices offers eloquent and emotional insights into the history, creativity, and values found in Indian life. Certainly, the contributions describe historical pain. But they are also bright with truthful, uplifting insight. Most importantly, they made clear to me that our present society has much to learn from America’s Indian tribal cultures, past and present.

Disney, folklore, images of “noble” or “good” Native Americans (but with derogatory terms used), and modern-day understandings or misunderstandings of Stockholm Syndrome and brainwashing have influenced interpretations of Pocahontas. Camilla Townshend instead turns to other studies of Native American women contemporary to Pocahontas, using them to analyze the sources that document her life. Pocahontas, called that only as a little girl, emerges as a woman named Matoaka, who may have seen herself as an important mediator between cultures and nations at a tenuous moment in the history of her people.

The story is told from the point of view of Morgan, a thirteen-year-old indigenous girl who has been in foster care since she was three years old. She is angry and confused, and although her new foster home is a good one, she is so used to things not working out, she can't help sabotaging the situation. Then a young boy joins the family with his own problems. Things go from bad to worse. It takes an adventure for Morgan to appreciate where she comes from. Great world building and interesting animal characters. The book is visually appealing with subtle lessons, a good mix of humour, and a sense of hope.

The bloodiest and most decisive Indian wars occurred not in the American West but in the Ohio Valley shortly after the United States gained its independence. The little known struggles with the formidable tribes of the Midwest opened the way for westward expansion. Autumn of the Black Snake is a scrupulously balanced account of what is sometimes called President George Washington’s Indian War, enhanced with an intriguing recounting of the often dirty policies behind the creation of the United States Army. Author William Hogeland also offers engaging portraits of towering but largely forgotten Indian leaders such as Little Turtle and Blue Jacket and their peoples. Read this book before turning to the Indian Wars in the West.

When I give talks about Jackson, audience members often bring up his “adoption” of Lyncoya, a Creek Indian boy, as an argument against his racist and violent treatment of Native Americans. Peterson delves into that episode, and similar events in the lives of Jackson and men like him, to explain what elite white “adoption” of Native children actually meant and how it reflected larger national themes of acquisition and subjugation. 

This is a little off-piste in that this isn’t exactly about cold climates; the main topic of Dodds Pennock’s book is about how Indigenous Americans discovered Europe. I first heard Dodds Pennock talk about her book at a lecture in London just a few months back and had to buy the book, which is a riveting account of the reverse migration of Indigenous Americans to Europe.  

Why include this book on the Arctic, you ask? Dodds Pennock also writes about a few Indigenous Inuit that make it to England, and I haven’t stopped thinking about the story she tells about their fraught lives in the UK and (until now) unknown or forgotten history in England. For example, she tells a gripping story of two Inuits who were abducted and brought to London in the 1570s and are buried in the city in unmarked graves at St. Olave’s Church. 

One of Zinn’s great insights that still inspires readers today is that there are all these histories of struggle that do not get taught. Not even Zinn could explore all of them. In the last four decades, historians have uncovered amazing tales of struggle in the face of incredible oppression.

Today, even as we pay more attention to the history of American racism than ever before, we do not learn nearly enough about Native American history. What we do learn is often far in the past. But Native Americans continue to fight for their rights today. Blansett’s biography of Richard Oakes, who led the Alcatraz takeover in 1969, will open up an entirely new history for you, one that demonstrates that we cannot understand modern American history without placing the Native struggle for sovereignty and power at the center of it.