100 books like Little You

I love this beautiful ride on a bus through the child’s inner city neighborhood. With grandma, the little boy encounters the colorful people that make up his community.

It’s a gentle and sweet reminder to me that diversity is beautiful. And though people may not seem as monetarily wealthy as others, love and care make them rich.

There are too many children out there who feel lonely and isolated – just like the character in my book. These kids want to be included but are just too shy to step forward, so they often get left out. I chose this book because of the sweet story that demonstrates how one person can change another person’s life with an act of kindness. I also periodically check Amazon’s top 100 Children’s Books on Bullying to see what I want to read (which is where I found this book) and it is currently #1.

The Snowy Day is, at its heart, a beautiful book about playing alone.

When I was reading this book to my kids, we had just moved to the mountains of Ketchum, Idaho and my son had started third grade at a new school. He spent a lot of time playing alone in the snow and could relate to Peter’s solo adventures in the book.

The bright, graphic collage illustrations add a liveliness that reflects the joy of discovery, while the cool snow tones bring a silent reflectiveness. The book’s history is rich as well: It was published in 1963 and was the first color picture book to feature a black character.

As the book gently led readers into Jack’s quiet and joyful world, it was also a message of inclusiveness that broke through a wall in children’s publishing.

As soon as I saw the cover, I fell in love with this book. The illustrations are fabulous, and the storyline is in sync with my anti-bullying books. Poor Molly Lou is – shall we say… unattractive? – and picked on at school. But Molly Lou is a confident young girl with good self-esteem instilled from her grandmother, so the bully doesn’t stand a chance! A wonderful story about a clever girl fighting back without physically fighting.

This book is about Anne Hobbs, a nineteen-year-old girl, who in 1927 travels to Alaska to run a ramshackle, one-room schoolhouse. Along the way, she is exposed to more than just the elements. Against the local’s advice, she allows Native American children into her class and falls in love with a half-Inuit man. In this fascinating and charming story, Anne learns the meaning of prejudice and perseverance, irrational hatred, and unconditional love. 

This story taught me that we, as girls, can do important things and change the world around us. Anne was sweet and shy, but through showing compassion and concern, she made a change in her community. It wasn’t easy and she faced hardship, but she was successful and content within herself. Why do I love this book? First of all, the book is an adventure about survival in the wilderness. Anne had people watching out for her and… show more.

Though we are thankful for the current movements to decolonize archives and museums, from at least 1750, Native writers have been doing this important survival work of asserting Native ways of knowing. This revelation is the subject of Wisecup’s ground-breaking study. It shows how early Native writers assembled lists, collages, and literary texts that, through juxtaposition and recontextualization, resisted the way colonial archives defined their bodies, belongings, and words as ethnographic evidence of vanishing peoples. Wisecup offers revealing ways to read the Indigenous compilations of key figures like Mohegan Samson Occom’s medicinal recipes, Ojibwe Charlotte Johnston’s poetry scrapbooks, and Abenaki leader Joseph Laurent’s vocabulary lists. We also deeply appreciate how Wisecup ends each chapter by connecting the early writer it focuses on to contemporary Indigenous culture.

This book's evocative verse drew me in immediately, whisking me into a cozy childhood memory of my own. I love the repeated refrains of Fry Bread…which allows young ones to anticipate and ‘read along,’ increasing engagement with the child.

The beautiful illustrations, which show children of many different skin tones in the kitchen assisting and then awaiting the delicious result, amplify the story, showing how grandparents can be sources of love and support for their grandchild's network of friends.

I especially love this book because it reminds me of cooking Cuban bread pudding with my abuela for Thanksgiving, her contribution to the American holiday that reminded her of her home. 

This book is the “bible” of Federal Indian Law. Mr. Cohen was appointed by President Franklin Delano Roosevelt as the Commissioner of Indian Affairs and was the first pro-Native Commissioner to hold that post. He took it upon himself and his agency to publish a treatise that Indian tribes and others could rely on to learn about treaties, statutes, and agreements that set forth the rights of Indian tribes and their members.

It’s been updated several times. It is the most authoritative text in the field and is frequently cited by courts and commentators. It doesn’t lend itself to easy reading, however. (My book synthesizes the information contained in the Cohen book and makes it understandable to the non-lawyer.)

The future is Indigenous. Time is not linear. The scientific and the spiritual are not mutually exclusive. The apocalypse can be survived.

These are some of the many provocations explored in the stories, essays, and excerpts that make up Grace Dillon’s (Anishinaabe) groundbreaking anthology, Walking the Clouds. The voices that appear in this collection lay the foundations for indigenous futurism and challenge the ongoing colonial politics of science fiction (SF) as a genre. SF tropes like alien encounters, apocalypses, and interstellar voyages are realigned with the assimilationist and genocidal histories of colonialism that inspired them.

Walking the Clouds is a powerful intervention and a must-read for anyone seeking an introduction to indigenous futurisms and decolonial fiction. 

A creative non-fiction work that brings the native folk hero alive in spirit while following the modern-day hero Leonard Peletier and the AIM resistance.

Again, the landscape descriptions take the reader away into the land once travelled by Native Americans. Matthiessen’s literary touch lends an almost novel-like thread by comparing the legends of Crazy Horse, perhaps the most revered of Lakota warriors, who becomes more than an historical figure in support of the fight for Native American rights and dignity in the American West of the 1970s.