Birding While Indian: A Mixed-Blood Memoir

by Thomas C. Gannon

“A fascinating search for personal and cultural identity.” — Kirkus

Thomas C. Gannon’s Birding While Indian spans more than fifty years of childhood walks and adult road trips to deliver, via a compendium of birds recorded and revered, the author’s life as a part-Lakota inhabitant of the Great Plains. Great Horned Owl, Sandhill Crane, such species form a kind of rosary, a corrective to the rosaries that evoke Gannon’s traumatic time in an Indian boarding school in South Dakota, his mother’s devastation at racist bullying from coworkers, and the violent erasure colonialism demanded of the people and other animals indigenous to the United States.

Birding has always been Gannon’s escape and solace. He later found similar solace in literature, particularly by Native authors. He draws on both throughout this expansive, hilarious, and humane memoir. An acerbic observer—of birds, the environment, the aftershocks of history, and human nature—Gannon navigates his obsession with the ostensibly objective avocation of birding and his own mixed-blood subjectivity, searching for that elusive Snowy Owl and his own identity. The result is a rich reflection not only on one man’s life but on the transformative power of building a deeper relationship with the natural world.

Genres: Memoir, Nonfiction, Indigenous, Nature, Birds, Native American, Animals

239 pages, Paperback

First published June 1, 2023

Reviews

[Mark · Rating 4 out of 5]

As an avid birder, I was immediately drawn to this refreshing and well-written memoir and since I also enjoy reading Native American literature, along with Native history, this made the perfect package. It covers fifty years of the author’s life, touching on the birds he has seen in his life, along with many unsettling injustices that have marred the Indian over the centuries.The joy and the pain balance itself out in the strong, no-nonsense narrative. Highly recommended.

[Corvus · Rating 4 out of 5]

I love encountering books that span genres and cultures, especially in the nonfiction realm. Birding While Indian by Thomas C Gannon is one of those books. Labeled as a "Mixed Blood Memoir," I expected less birding than there was in it. I was pleasantly surprised at how much of the book functioned as sort of a birding travelogue divided by species with philosophical and political commentary mixed in. He mentions the impossibility of discussing birds without being political- something I wish far more birders understood. I am frequently frustrated by the boring or even insultingly one-dimensional ways many writers discuss other species.

Gannon was kind enough to join us at VINE book club where I learned that the publisher really wanted him to lean in more to the memoir side of things when editing down a much longer initial draft. Based on my own experience and that of other reviewers, this seemed an odd choice on their part since it seems most of us wanted the birding/philosophical/political stuff and more of it! That said, the memoir outside of birding adventures was very interesting and engaging. The life Gannon has led is immensely interesting and often harrowing. This memoir shows how birding and nature can truly save us from the struggles of life that may otherwise destroy us. I can't express how much I relate to the idea that birding- and in relation, the existence and importance of the avian world and their sharing space with us- as being a life and sanity saving venture.

At the book club, Gannon mentioned his surprise that he received little critique on the structure of the book since to him it sometimes felt like a first draft. I had already spoken a lot, so I didn't get to mention in group that I would have liked a bit more structure. I would not say it reads like a first draft, it feels more organized than that. But, the book does jump from one category into another often by paragraph. This made things hard to follow or left me thinking, "Wait! Finish your thought on that," or, "I wanted to hear more about that." I would have liked it to be divided by chapter rather than hopping so quickly between paragraphs which, for instance, could go from experiences of childhood familial and boarding school abuse to a birding walk.

I also have criticism, as I do with 99% of birding and nature books, of Gannon referring to other birds as "it," even when they are dimorphic and very easy to refer to as s/he/they. He has valid criticisms of humans pushing systems onto other animals, which I generally agree with. But, I believe calling birds "it" is still pushing objectivity onto them rather than acknowledging them as living beings.

Gannon overall though navigates the complexity of his own identities and beliefs as well as that of his family and others around him deftly. There are no surefire, set in stone analyses in this book. He dwells in the contradictions and asks more questions than are answered, which to me, shows great self awareness and honesty often lacking in memoirs.

Something I thought of a lot was how he relates being a "lister" birder like myself to his other life experiences and beliefs. It's something I think about constantly in my own life. The book offers excellent analysis of colonialism and animality among other things. The discussions had about this in the book club were enriching as well. How do we as birders justify our exercise of a hobby which was in part highly designed or influenced by colonizers and slavers? Can we be more in touch with indigenous interpretations of birds without abandoning birding? At what point are we, also, as animals in this world, simply living in and experiencing these environments and when are we taxing resources or causing more harm than good?

A final side note: I was quite surprised to see so much Pittsburgh area action in the book! The book begins referencing a local birder, Frank Izaguirre's excellent labeling of the lifelook and fantastic cover designer- Melissa Dias-Mandoly who I had to Google- is Pittsburgh based as well.

Overall, I thoroughly enjoyed the experience of reading about Gannon's life and his travels birding across many locations. This book would hit the spot for both birders and people interested in memoirs and thoughts about indigeniety, identity, and the greater than human world. His analyses were engaging and refreshing even when the structure was a bit tough to follow. I hope that he pursues more writing and I look forward to reading more from him in the future.

This was also posted to my blog and storygraph.

[R.J. Sorrento · Rating 5 out of 5]

Profound and darkly humorous at times, Birding While Indian is a memoir that examines what is to be a “mixed-blood” Indian and how the past abuse, torture, removal, and genocide of indigenous peoples on this land continue to haunt and influence the United States. Each chapter focuses on a different bird and Gannon shares a mind map of ideas, memories, and connections to American history and literature. There are many references to excellent novels by Native authors (a few I’m going to add to my TBR), and also references to novels set in the West written by white authors, who don’t acknowledge the existence of Indians or any of the atrocities of western expansion.

Some of the chapters are especially emotional and resonant, particularly the chapter focused on his mother’s final days and the whooping crane.

A memoir provides perspective on one person’s life, but because life is so interconnected to the past, to nature, to the people around us, the reader is gifted a rich story. In the case of Birding While Indian, the reader has much to ponder and reflect upon, and this book is great for viewing nature and birds through a wider lens of interconnectivity.

Thank you to Mad Creek Books, Ohio State University Press for the ARC.

[B.C. Dittemore · Rating 4 out of 5]

I am by no means a “birder” but I came away from reading Gannon’s sometimes humorous, oftentimes crotchety, memoir with a new outlook on things.

Through a series of essays that combine stories from Gannon’s life and his love of birding, he touches on a lot of subjects that non Native people might not want to hear but should. He’s made me think twice about the origin of place-names, as well as ascribing human characteristics to animals. From Gannon’s point of view personifying animals is a byproduct of colonization, and it probably doesn’t need to be pointed out that America has a long history of using stereotypes in naming conventions (Redskins anyone?) or naming places and things after bigoted leaders (Custer, South Dakota perhaps?).

Justly so, Gannon is angry about these things, but he has his birds to help him deal with it. And now, as any good piece of nonfiction, I have been given much to think about every time I see an (even subtle) racial undertone to a name, or hear someone project their human characteristics onto an animal. Plus I am more acutely aware of the birds around me. I may never know the call of a specific type, or the difference between one woodpecker from another, but I have a better understanding of the diversity.

[Kerry Pickens · Rating 5 out of 5]

I loved this book. The author wove together his Native American ancestry, the experience of growing up mixed race, and his love of literature and birding into a cohesive yet wildly entertaining and heartfelt narrative. The best part of the book for me was his trip to Canyon Lake, Texas to visit family and being surprised by the variety of birds he saw. Having lived in Texas for many years, I know its a birders paradise especially along the bird sanctuaries along the Texas coast. I have been birding myself and decide it wasn't for me. I am not interested in wrens, sparrows and mocking birds. I prefer to look owls, hawks and other raptors. I am also very superstitious about sighting these birds, and there used to be a hawk that would show up in the tree in front yard and always unnerved me as I knew it meant something was about to change. I live in New Mexico now, and I love the crows here.

[Carol Tilley · Rating 5 out of 5]

Memoir, epistemology, and birds.

[Emily Kestrel · Rating 5 out of 5]

What a great book. As the title indicates, it is part an “Own Voices” memoir about being part Native American in the American west, with many heartbreaking incidents of racism and diatribes against colonialism and the ongoing legacy of Manifest Destiny. I even learned a new reason to despise Custer; I didn’t know before reading this that he had his men kill 800 horses! Absolutely disgusting behavior.

This part of the memoir was a 3.5 - maybe four star read for me, but then we have the other half…the birding. You probably need to be a fellow birder to fully appreciate this part, but if you are, Gannon gets it every time. The awe and wonder, the obsession with lists, the willingness to suffer and neglect other duties, the obligatory rants against our crimes against the environment, the self deprecating humor…it’s all there.

A couple favorite moments:

About dipping out on a snowy owl: “I even grew bitter on Facebook…’I don’t *want* to see a Snowy Owl. If I did see one, I wouldn’t even record the sighting. If I got a photo of one, I’d delete it from my SD card. So there.”

“On one wintery occasion, [my wife] jostled me awake, thinking that I’d called her someone else’s name in my sleep. Who is this Glaucous?, she demanded of me, in the middle of the night. Huh? Oh. Glaucous gull, I mumbled….”

Because of the specific mix of topics, although I loved this book, I wouldn’t recommend it to everyone willy-nilly. I would say that left-leaning birders with an interest in Native American perspectives will love this book as much as I did. For everyone else, if the title piques your interest, by all means, give it a try.

[Bill · Rating 4 out of 5]

Birding While Indian is at once charming and painful to read. A young Native American man grows up facing incessant racism and economic hardship in South Dakota, and one of his few escapes is into birdwatching. The book is a meditation on birding, the horrors of colonialism (which are with us to this day, despite pie-in-the-sky proclamations of how racial injustice is over), and also, on family and the nature of one's roots. Well worth the read, particularly for birders out there, but be aware that it will cause some self-reflection in all but the most self-centered individuals.

[Laura Eppinger · Rating 5 out of 5]

This was an intellectually challenging and wonderful read. The writing is incredible, smart, and funny -- it keeps you moving through some of the tougher topics (like settler-colonialism and genocide, internalized racism, OCD, family trauma, and more!).

I will never get over the uncanny experience of reading this on a business trip to Montana. My work group took and excursion to Little Bighorn to photograph Custer's grave. I missed the outing, but was reading this instead.

[Lily W · Rating 5 out of 5]

How fortunate we are to live on the same plane of existence as birds. I really love this mix of wildlife, personal, and historical writing/poetry.

" 'Get over it,' my good white friends are forever telling me; but I can't, because it's not over."

We have a lot to learn from our relationships with wildlife that has existed long before us.

[Dan · Rating 3 out of 5]

He is overly academic in that exclusionary way - obscure philosopher quotes, untranslated foreign phrases - that sort of thing. But someone I still liked what I was reading. His experience growing up on a reservation in the plains is not a story I’ve heard from anyone.

I really appreciated his thoughts on ecology and how we relate to nature.

And then there’s the birds! And this guy birds a lot.

A couple of interesting topics loosely connected by this one man’s life.

[Christina Mainelli · Rating 5 out of 5]

truly a great read—spotted with dark humor as the author highlights systemic racism and his own lived experience as a “mixed blood” native american. incredibly witty, thought provoking and historically insightful.

[Takara · Rating 5 out of 5]

Great read! It gave me a lot to think about related to my now home state of South Dakota… and I learned about some birds as well.

[Lacey Losh · Rating 5 out of 5]

At work I signed up for a semester-long discussion series focusing on this book. I wasn’t ready for how enriching an experience it would be. Coming together with people from all over campus and the community, we had fascinating discussions centering around the question “how can you write about (or talk about) birds without being political?” Among many excellent points made in the memoir, this question is addressed in myriad ways, such as “the names of American birds are often themselves acts of Western imperialism.” This book focuses on the author’s life and relationships, settler colonialism, cultural alienation, and a whole lot of birding adventures. I’m looking forward to our final meeting, a Q&A session with the author.

[Lilly June · Rating 5 out of 5]

this is a very important read! especially as an amateur birder. examining birding in relation to colonialism is def something that’s useful to think about and super enlightening for a broader understanding of the west’s relationship with nature

[Laura · Rating 4 out of 5]

"“It has been said of the missionaries that when they arrived they had only the Book and we had the land; now we have the Book and they have the land.”
A combination of Birding (mini) manual, memoir, social commentary and occasional literary commentary should not work this well. I have never read a book that jumped around so much and brought together elements that were barely related, and still devoured it with such pleasure. I blame the author's writing style: simple, clear and just the right amount (and brand) of humor that I enjoy. I also blame my lack of knowledge on Native American history--I'm an immigrant parched for knowledge and I drank this up. I remain thirsty and grateful to this author for his discussions on colonialism, European anthropomorphism of nature (while also abusing it or not taking it seriously), mild deconstruction of the obsessive behavior that defines some of our passions, and the fear of being perceived as "not good enough" by the dominant class. There is quite a bit of anger expressed in this book at the oppressive white Christian American, anger that as an immigrant woman to America I understand all too well; however the animosity is wrapped in just the right amount of sarcasm to make me feel hope:
"Rush Limbaugh or country music or Bible talk. Christ. Choices in our democracy. Might as well listen to the Spanish station because I don't understand it well enough to get pissed off enough to want to run my Subaru into an incoming semi." (bad news: I understand Spanish so I probably can't take that out :D)
I felt a genuine connection with this obviously very flawed, obsessive author who unfortunately hasn't yet learned to fully love himself. I wish we had a few more photos in the book, and maybe learned more about his mother (I guess I'll have to read his other published work; see Mr. Gannon, one person has read and is interested in more than several paragraphs of your written work). The only times the book lagged for me were the few chapters that were very focused on birding (the blasphemy!). And I wished the author was less angry at his mother's desire to have her final writes (hey, I'm an Atheist too, but I understand the reassurance and calm religion can offer to people in pain or about to die). Otherwise, I can't wait to read more from this author.
"What makes a land bird take to the water? What makes it choose to live between worlds, on the edges of water, rock, and air? Why would the son of a “Squaw” go to college, and study French, and psychology, and Wordsworth? I was a border creature: part white, part Indian, a fucked-up an anxious young fellow of both rock and air. Pictures of me from those college years reveal the eyes of an anxious bird in an alien habitat, eternally ready to fly away to a place deep inside. However, the bird analogy always ultimately fails, in that I imagine that the American dipper is comfortable in its liminal status. But I doubt that I will ever be."

[Deborah · Rating 4 out of 5]

Good, unique memoir

[Amber Bourassa · Rating 2 out of 5]

I didn't like it but I appreciate it

[Rashaun · Rating 3 out of 5]

Based on the subtitle “a mixed-blood memoir,” I thought Thomas C. Gannon’s Birding While Indian would be about being half-native American and half-white. There would be some journey reclaiming a part of his Native American heritage. And there would be some exploration around some repressed feelings and memories behind, “What Native American means to Gannon.” After reading, Birding While Indian, my guesses merely scratched the surface of this memoir. Juxtaposed with Gannon’s poor upbringing and life as part Lakota and part Irish, the memoir deeply dives into his obsession with birding not bird watching.

Birding is intensely observing birds—traveling far and wide if need be—to find birds in their natural habitat as well as keeping a life list of those birds observed. Bird watching is a more casual observing experience. Gannon is a birder who has documented his birding experience extensively with lists such as a lifer list that reveals info like when, where, and reactions around seeing a bird for the first time. He clarified birding isn’t Native American, but a privileged and mostly white occupation not afforded to many. You need a good pair of binoculars, a good spotting scope, a car you fill with gas often, and free time. He spoke about spending days waking up early to bird.

Birding was a good segway to speak about the ecological make-up of the Great Plains and the Native American experience since the arrival of American colonizers. For one, I didn’t realize how even birds’ names encapsulated a Eurocentric worldview. Nor did I understand that the killing of millions of Bisons by many early American colonizers devasted the landscape and starved many Native Americans. I didn’t know that battles like the “Battle of Little Big Horn,” was more of a massacre that consisted of many women and children. Nor did I know how many Native Americans were forced into religious boarding schools and chastised for doing anything Native American. I had imagined Gannon’s Birding While Indian would reveal how little I knew about Native American history. How badly many Native Americans struggle to navigate life within and around the United States.

Gannon’s mom was Lakota who lost some of her fingers in an accident and his father was Irish and also a drunk who beat her. Gannon shows throughout Birding While Indian how hard his mom worked to support him and his siblings. But near the end of the book admits how his mom verbally berated him and wondered if it was a result of how she was poorly treated. She casually and often was referenced as a Native American slur at her job compared to one revealed positive treatment was an award she won. He spoke about how he unsuccessfully juggled an identity crisis growing up between not being fully Lakota or white and neither peer group accepting him. He talked about how his youngest brother and daughter both cried when they learned they were part Native American. To me, all of this revealed how the devasting oppression of one’s people and culture has generational effects.

The structure of Gannon’s Birding While Indian ping-ponged back and forth from his detailed life-long birding adventures up to becoming a remarried father and teacher. The non-linear approach is organized through time-stamped entries that serve as chapters. I wasn’t a fan of the method, but it was done in a way where I could readily follow along. I’m not convinced I could successfully teach this memoir. If anything, I would have to find a section that represented the whole. But I’m glad I took the time to read it.

[David Garza · Rating 3 out of 5]

Gannon's entries/chapters are always about birds and birding, even if just tangentially. Going into this, I was expecting there'd be a lot more focus on the birds. Sometimes Gannon does give us more of the nature writing, but there's plenty of times he simply uses his bird watching as a prompt to tackle other subjects.

This isn't always a bad thing. Sometimes, he strays into the backgrounds and histories of the places (not surprisingly, these are usually state parks, wildlife preserves, waterbodies, and the like) and the evolving names of the places he visits for birding. Gannon is part-Lakota and most of the places he travels are in Great Plains states or not too far off, so he's keenly aware of how history has played out there in the last few centuries; the land of the Native American; the onslaught of the US westward creep, colonialism, and expansion; the ghost of George Armstrong Custer that never gives up the ghost; all that those things demand. Gannon gives us some good history and perspective when he does this.

Other times (and maybe this is when he's at his best), his chapters really become memoirs. It's clear that Gannon sees his life as a reflection of the history of the Great Plains. Or is it the other way around? Rather, they reflect each other. At it's root, this is what the book is really about. It's a self-reflection, it's about him. This is why he wrote it; or, at least, this is why he completed it. Feathers fall around as we gaze into his crystal ball. Often it takes retrospect to see things as they really are. I think it was only later as an adult that he was truly struck by what it meant when his mother (who basically had to function as if she was a single mother) was called "squaw," and only as an adult that he recognized the shame that came with that, that manifested in him experiencing a sort of "relief" when his father of Irish decent (and clearly the more flawed and problematic parent of the two) was back around, even though that relief wasn't really based in true comfort.

I wish Gannon had a better hold on this, though. If he could have used that formula (birding as prompt to memoirs) in a more concerted effort, his collection of chapters & entries would have held together stronger. I felt like he never really knew what this book was supposed to be. He went chronologically, timelining the significance of the birds that he observed, significant either for their own natural sake or for how he associates them with specific meaningful events in his life, but his focus seems to jump around a lot. In the beginning, it's not too noticeable, but as his entries started to reflect on his adult life, it started to become wearisome. He seemed to become too much of a sad sack as he got older, which just exacerbated that weariness. Nearly unapologetically, he seems to have no remorse when he tells us that he basically lets his birding get in the way of relationships and responsibilities, even with his own family. During his own daughter's graduation, he's still distracted by stepping out to look for birds. I guess he just disappoint me as a reader.

[Patricia · Rating 4 out of 5]

Gannon’s book is largely about language, naming, and worldview. It’s an immensely important perspective. Especially in the United States, where the adoration of nature has some aspects that are problematic to say the least. Until just a few years ago, I had no idea that national parks had forcibly removed their native human inhabitants in order to meet some ideal of pristine nature.
The metaphorical keep out signs are still up in some ways.

The renaming of places and animals matters. Incredibly, there is still a town named after Custer. That’s not an innocous thing. It suggests some level of complicity with the past and ongoing violence against Native Americans. The terms matter: as Gannon points out, battle is not the word for massacre. Gannon also does a sharp and painful critique of the persistence of “squaw” only belatedly making its exit from many place and bird names. It’s what his father shouted at his mother as he beat her up.

Language as an act of crushing categorization is another key topic. Gannon cites an ecologist who states that Native Americans can’t be called ecologists. As Gannon says, who wants to fit that definition anyway. This point also relates to my wariness about the way “western” gets used not just by Gannon but by others, that seems to reduce a range of perspectives to colonialist or dull opposite of more inviting things. Of course, that it not the same thing as the reductive way colonialist thinking managed to shape native cultures into something one could murder in good conscience. Maybe it just shows how hard it is to shake off dualistic thinking. Occasionally it seems like Gannon sometimes feels he has to choose one side of a fence. He worries about what might seem acquisitive about his bird counts. What if he doesn’t have to categorize this part of his fierce love of birds that defends them and keeps himself alive in a time and place that threatens to erase both of them.

The most fun part of the book for me was the stuff on bird language. I sing offkey and struggle to keep bird songs in my head. It was cool to catch a bit of the sound universe that Gannon inhabits. The dreams about talking birds rocked in all their kookiness and sublimity.

[Laura Hoffman Brauman · Rating 4 out of 5]

In the birding world, a lifelook is the best look you've ever had at a species. It doesn't matter if it's the first time you've seen it (life list), the first time you've seen it that year (first of year), or the first time you've seen it in the county or area - it's about the time that most captured the fundamental aspects of the bird. In Birding while Indian, Gannon explores key moments in his life - things that are pivotal, particularly evocative, or just paint a complete picture of his experiences in that moment - and ties those moments of clarity to his experiences seeing particular birds in particular settings. Gannon's mother was Lakota, his father was Irish. Growing up in a world where racism and classism were a part of his daily experience, including time spent in a boarding school, his world view and awareness very much reflects his willingness to call out the impacts of colonialism and genocide both in the history of this continent as well as in our current times. As a birder, he is constantly aware of how much colonialism still impacts life today - just looking around at what we honor through place names and how we describe the significance of those places makes it clear that this is not something from the past, it's very much a part of the present as well. The jacket of the book describes Gannon as an acerbic observer of the world - and I can't really think of a better way to describe it. At times touching, at times critical, always thought provoking - this was an excellent blend of memoir, cultural critique, and nature writing.

[Caspian Coyle · Rating 4 out of 5]

I must admit some of this memoir went over my head. When it comes to memoirs, I tend to expect an emotional exploration of one’s life rather than an exploration of North American history, theology, philosophy and social justice movements. If I would have read the back of the book instead of the Goodreads description, I might have picked up on the fact that this was no typical memoir. Even though my vocabulary, knowledge of the French language, and general understanding of philosophy terms wasn’t up to par, I enjoyed the book. My own spiritual relationship with birds and nature was challenged by Gannon’s perspectives and I found myself contemplating my own white American lens in which I view the natural world. The way that poetry is threaded through his narrative is beautiful and helped me to hang on through the sections I struggled to fully comprehend. In the end, I looked at the world differently after reading this memoir and for me, that is always a book worth reading.

[Deb · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book has so many things I enjoy: memoirs of non-celebrities, interesting writing style, substance and thought provoking passages, birds!, the Great Plains, locations in and around Nebraska, references to Nebraska authors, and perhaps most importantly, humor.

I see that other reviewers found him too angry. That seems dismissive and avoidant.

My biggest gripe, and why I didn’t give it 5 stars, is the sesquipedalian writing style (yes, I looked up that word to make a point and probably spelled it wrong). Gannon’s vocabulary and academic background may prove difficult for most readers. I have an advanced degree, am married to an academic who taught ornithology, work in a library and read quite a bit, yet I was regularly taken out of the flow of reading to look up words. His writing is so accessible and enjoyable otherwise, so perhaps a reverse thesaurus for his next book? I hope there is one.

[Katie · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5/5 stars

"As for myself: I'm a tribe of one--and there's still a civil war going on. When those who bird while Indian--or rather, bird while mixed-blood--are confronted with hybrid birds like the Indigo Bunting/Lazuli Bunting cross I once saw at Lake McConaughy, they must wonder, with me, do these birds experience anything similar to the human torture of being a crossblood--of being shit upon by both sides?"

I picked this up from a display at my local library. An interesting, though at times fragmented, exploration of the author's experiences with birding and with growing up "mixed-blood", the son of an Irish father and a Lakota mother. Gannon explains his complicated relationship with his family, with religion, and even with birding itself. Many deep themes to ponder here. I do wish there had been some photos of the birds to go along with portions of the book.

[Grace Cuddihy · Rating 3 out of 5]

I have to say I was disappointed by this. I picked up this interesting memoir at Prarie Lights over fall break, and the title alone intrigued me for reasons that are probably obvious. The memoir highlights Gannon's experiences with specific birds while growing up in South Dakota. Gannon weaves in themes of racism, colonization, mixed identity, and memory into his bird stories, along with funny stories from college and a notably dry sense of humor. Despite this, I left this book wanting more... birds? Some chapters felt stronger in their connection, but many others only mentioned birds for 1-2 paragraphs over the course of multiple pages. I had hoped that the memoir was going to be more metaphorical and feature more bird stories than ended up being the case. Despite this, it provides an interesting history of the Cheyenne River Sioux Tribe and the Great Plains.

[Kyle Beacom · Rating 4 out of 5]

I picked up this book at the local library because the author, Tom Gannon, was the professor of one of my English classes at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln about 20 years ago. Gannon was funny then in-person and, not surprisingly, is also funny in his writing. Though there is a lot of listing of birds (Gannon apologizes for this a few times) there is also the story of Gannon's life, including the difficulties associated with having a drunken and abusive Irish father and a poor Indian mother. Additionally, Gannon, who grew up in Rapid City, writes about several locales that are familiar to me, including Custer State Park and Gavins Point Dam.

His most touching story is about his mother on her deathbed in a Rapid City hospital. His mother tells those surrounding her that when she passes she will take off like a "bottle rocket."

[Joann Carol · Rating 4 out of 5]

An intelligent, honest, down to earth memoir from a voice not often heard in the birding world.
Gannon’s white friends and colleagues tell him to “Get over it!” when he argues against the past “brutal history of 19th century US western expansionism” as “civilization” which is a secondary focus in Gannon’s memoir. How can he get over it “if you’re still in the same circumstances as a consequence of what happened 100 years ago?”
Gannon manages to find a partial escape in a passion for birding which he graciously (and sometimes hilariously) shares along with literate insight as an associate professor of English and ethnic studies. This is a man with a lot to share who deserves a wide audience!

[Kevin · Rating 4 out of 5]

A fascinating mix of birding memoir and Native American political rant. That probably sounds dismissive, but I found both aspects more intriguing than expected. Birding has never seemed that interesting, but this dive piqued my curiosity. Thomas Gannon also dove into socio-political issues in an approachable, honest, and flippant manner that was engaging and interesting (I added several books he quoted to my to-read list).

[Zach DuFran · Rating 4 out of 5]

I recognize that there is a limited audience for a birding memoir through an advertised lens of racial awareness. I really enjoyed this book, finding a lot of commonality with my own pursuit of birds, and learning a lot from the author's perspective as a native person in the Great Plains, surrounded by so much conflict and symbolism, blatant and subtle. This book is a gem among modern nature writing.