I realized in writing over the years that some of the first readers I’ve ever had, and people who still pick up my books, are a lot of Native youth. … - Cherie Dimaline

For a long time there was this idea I was hearing from teachers and industry people: “How do you explain residential schools to Canadian kids? It’s too difficult.” But our kids don’t have that choice, because they don’t speak their language, their grandparents went to those schools, the last one closed in 1996. This is an ongoing reality. If our kids can get it and be good people and thrive in this society, than your kids can get it. And how about they can get it together by sitting in a circle and saying let’s talk about this – we can do this. So I’m really happy that so many stories have come forward, especially aimed at young readers because that’s where change starts.

I would say that globally, readers and the industry that has been built around them are becoming privy to our stories and the skill in which they’re told and preserved. We’re going through a pretty brutal learning curve right now because Indigenous literature is unlike any other, and the rules are different. It’s why we’re having to call out writers and stories that are harmful or that misrepresent. The resulting skirmishes over “free speech” and “appropriation” were bound to happen since this is new territory to the publishing world and there’s no precedent. Many of our stories are ceremony, history, teachings, and cannot be mishandled. We are a generous people and [we] share, but [our stories are] not out there to be “cherry picked” and morphed.

A writer creates, an editor crafts. And in the world of great literature, one cannot exist without the other.