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Thinning Blood: An Indigenous Memoir of Family, Myth, and Identity
Named a Most Anticipated Book of 2023 by The Millions
A vibrant new voice blends Native folklore and the search for identity in a fierce debut work of personal history. Leah Myers may be the last member of the Jamestown S’Klallam Tribe in her family line, due to her tribe’s strict blood quantum laws. In this unflinching and intimate memoir, Myers excavates the stories of four generations of women in order to leave a record of her family. Beginning with her great-grandmother, the last full-blooded Native member in their lineage, she connects each woman with her totem to construct her family’s totem protective Bear, defiant Salmon, compassionate Hummingbird, and perched on top, Raven. As she pieces together their stories, Myers weaves in tribal folktales, the history of the Native genocide, and Native mythology. Throughout, she tells the larger story of how, as she puts it, her “culture is being bleached out,” offering sharp vignettes of her own life between White and Native her naive childhood love for Pocahontas, her struggles with the Klallam language, the violence she faced at the hands of a close White friend as a teenager. Crisp and powerful, Thinning Blood is at once a bold reclamation of one woman’s identity and a searingly honest meditation on heritage, family, and what it means to belong. 4 illustrations
A vibrant new voice blends Native folklore and the search for identity in a fierce debut work of personal history. Leah Myers may be the last member of the Jamestown S’Klallam Tribe in her family line, due to her tribe’s strict blood quantum laws. In this unflinching and intimate memoir, Myers excavates the stories of four generations of women in order to leave a record of her family. Beginning with her great-grandmother, the last full-blooded Native member in their lineage, she connects each woman with her totem to construct her family’s totem protective Bear, defiant Salmon, compassionate Hummingbird, and perched on top, Raven. As she pieces together their stories, Myers weaves in tribal folktales, the history of the Native genocide, and Native mythology. Throughout, she tells the larger story of how, as she puts it, her “culture is being bleached out,” offering sharp vignettes of her own life between White and Native her naive childhood love for Pocahontas, her struggles with the Klallam language, the violence she faced at the hands of a close White friend as a teenager. Crisp and powerful, Thinning Blood is at once a bold reclamation of one woman’s identity and a searingly honest meditation on heritage, family, and what it means to belong. 4 illustrations
192 pages, Paperback
First published May 16, 2023
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 406 reviews
October 28, 2023
Reading this was like the opposite of braiding sweetgrass. Like the tragic, evil version of it. It's short, staccato anger at everything including herself sounds like the venting diary of someone who needs to do a little more more growing up.
Where braiding sweetgrass sought to recapture her culture, going to basket weaving courses, tagging everything in her house with the native words and practicing pronunciation, communicating with elders about a land ethic... this book is what you might get if you did none of that and sat seething in anger instead. And indeed, the book will leave you seething in anger, and perhaps asking why it was even written?
She writes about NOT going to a beading workshop, about ghosting family and friends who invite her to a drum circle, about NOT learning the language, of NOT helping in tribal politics or protests, of feeling like an outcast and subsequently doing everything in her power to make herself one. She spends years on her native reservation imagining suspicious glares out of the corner of her eye while her family and friends desperately try to involve her in this world. Eventually, after never involving herself in any aspect of native life, someone tells her she seems to only want to be indian when its convenient or renders automatic benefit. She holds this 'insult' close to her heart and flees to New Orleans (a place she claims has no issues of identity or belonging).
Where do I begin? Lets talk about the protests. First there's a protest on the otherside of the country. A native issue that she cares deeply about, but she feels it would be too damaging to take time off from her waitress job and schooling to participate. So instead we get a FULL CHAPTER about how she shared one facebook post 'to help in the cause'. And then theres a protest in the town she's living in! Finally the opportunity she needed! An indigenous issue that she cares deeply about. But she decides it would be inconvenient to go and that they probably don't need her there anyway.
And about language, she decries somewhat tongue in cheek that if only the 'strength of her blood' were enough, her native language would magically come to her lips and make sense. In the same breadth she exclaims hatred for people who do speak some of their native language. She feels alienated and exposed not knowing her language. And she hates those who do know their language. And she avoids those who offer to teach her some of her language. And she feels the dedicated chronicler who saved her language from extinction is problematic and undeserving.
There's a beautiful turning point when a caring teacher gives her an intervention and shows her that she procrastinates and chooses to fail because she's deep inside she's worried about giving her all and still not being good enough. It felt like she'd carry this lesson forward and change. But she doesn't. She commits to the same self destructive behavior after this point. And while I realize mental illness and destructive coping mechanisms don't disappear overnight, there appears to be zero recognition whatsoever both in her actions and in the contemplation in the pages.
Another entire chapter is dedicated to a comprehensive summary of the movie Pocahontas. Complete with timecodes (is she assuming the majority of her audience has never heard of the film?). Her media illiteracy is maddening, as she reminds us that the main villain singing about "savages savages barely even human" is infact, problematic. She admits several times that her pride about being native comes from Pocahontas' ability to weild magic, talk to animals and how her hair billows in the animated wind. How her childhood was filled with disappointment at none of those things being the case.
--------
So after all this, her path of destruction and self loathing, surely the next part of the story would be her revival into true indigenous culture? Where does she dive headfirst into learning and connecting with her community? Into disassembling her whitewashed sense of what being a native is? It never comes. The end.
But wait! The book may have petered out to a miserable end, but this review is not quite finished. There's so many bizarre implications in here that we must talk about some of them.
Blood quantum. She admits this is a colonialist scheme to erase native lines. A made up requirement to be 1/4 or 1/8th native to be allowed to participate on tribal land, to get benefits from tribal government, etc. Then she spends the rest of the book defending it. Wishing her blood was stronger. Admiting that she's killing off her line both because she only has a thing for abusive white boys and because she never wants to have children. She never questions it. Never proposes an alternative. Never really talks about it!
Seventh Generation. She writes a letter to her great-great-great-great-great-great grandaughter. It's three pages long and she tells her descendant 5 times in it that she probably doesn't exist cause she's not going to have kids.
White Indian. A native man on their reservation in Olympia calls her a 'white indian', insinuating that she's unwilling to suffer the effort to be a member of the community but is more than willing to take the benefits of her tribal card. Then she spends the rest of the book proving them right.
-------------------
After stewing over this review I've discovered something. This young woman who is hurting, who has the worst expression of imposter syndrome imaginable. Who comes from extreme poverty, addiction, mental illness and hatred. Who latches onto a thin strand of native identity while rejecting every aspect of it. The truth is there is something else important and redeemable about this story. This book isn't about her thinning bloodline. It's about her broken self-perception. She is trapped in a purgatory of her own making, spiraling endlessly and lashing out at everyone and everything. And while it hurts to watch someone suffer in this way, especially when they themselves don't realize it and cannot see it, it is important not to look away.
Where braiding sweetgrass sought to recapture her culture, going to basket weaving courses, tagging everything in her house with the native words and practicing pronunciation, communicating with elders about a land ethic... this book is what you might get if you did none of that and sat seething in anger instead. And indeed, the book will leave you seething in anger, and perhaps asking why it was even written?
She writes about NOT going to a beading workshop, about ghosting family and friends who invite her to a drum circle, about NOT learning the language, of NOT helping in tribal politics or protests, of feeling like an outcast and subsequently doing everything in her power to make herself one. She spends years on her native reservation imagining suspicious glares out of the corner of her eye while her family and friends desperately try to involve her in this world. Eventually, after never involving herself in any aspect of native life, someone tells her she seems to only want to be indian when its convenient or renders automatic benefit. She holds this 'insult' close to her heart and flees to New Orleans (a place she claims has no issues of identity or belonging).
Where do I begin? Lets talk about the protests. First there's a protest on the otherside of the country. A native issue that she cares deeply about, but she feels it would be too damaging to take time off from her waitress job and schooling to participate. So instead we get a FULL CHAPTER about how she shared one facebook post 'to help in the cause'. And then theres a protest in the town she's living in! Finally the opportunity she needed! An indigenous issue that she cares deeply about. But she decides it would be inconvenient to go and that they probably don't need her there anyway.
And about language, she decries somewhat tongue in cheek that if only the 'strength of her blood' were enough, her native language would magically come to her lips and make sense. In the same breadth she exclaims hatred for people who do speak some of their native language. She feels alienated and exposed not knowing her language. And she hates those who do know their language. And she avoids those who offer to teach her some of her language. And she feels the dedicated chronicler who saved her language from extinction is problematic and undeserving.
There's a beautiful turning point when a caring teacher gives her an intervention and shows her that she procrastinates and chooses to fail because she's deep inside she's worried about giving her all and still not being good enough. It felt like she'd carry this lesson forward and change. But she doesn't. She commits to the same self destructive behavior after this point. And while I realize mental illness and destructive coping mechanisms don't disappear overnight, there appears to be zero recognition whatsoever both in her actions and in the contemplation in the pages.
Another entire chapter is dedicated to a comprehensive summary of the movie Pocahontas. Complete with timecodes (is she assuming the majority of her audience has never heard of the film?). Her media illiteracy is maddening, as she reminds us that the main villain singing about "savages savages barely even human" is infact, problematic. She admits several times that her pride about being native comes from Pocahontas' ability to weild magic, talk to animals and how her hair billows in the animated wind. How her childhood was filled with disappointment at none of those things being the case.
--------
So after all this, her path of destruction and self loathing, surely the next part of the story would be her revival into true indigenous culture? Where does she dive headfirst into learning and connecting with her community? Into disassembling her whitewashed sense of what being a native is? It never comes. The end.
But wait! The book may have petered out to a miserable end, but this review is not quite finished. There's so many bizarre implications in here that we must talk about some of them.
Blood quantum. She admits this is a colonialist scheme to erase native lines. A made up requirement to be 1/4 or 1/8th native to be allowed to participate on tribal land, to get benefits from tribal government, etc. Then she spends the rest of the book defending it. Wishing her blood was stronger. Admiting that she's killing off her line both because she only has a thing for abusive white boys and because she never wants to have children. She never questions it. Never proposes an alternative. Never really talks about it!
Seventh Generation. She writes a letter to her great-great-great-great-great-great grandaughter. It's three pages long and she tells her descendant 5 times in it that she probably doesn't exist cause she's not going to have kids.
White Indian. A native man on their reservation in Olympia calls her a 'white indian', insinuating that she's unwilling to suffer the effort to be a member of the community but is more than willing to take the benefits of her tribal card. Then she spends the rest of the book proving them right.
-------------------
After stewing over this review I've discovered something. This young woman who is hurting, who has the worst expression of imposter syndrome imaginable. Who comes from extreme poverty, addiction, mental illness and hatred. Who latches onto a thin strand of native identity while rejecting every aspect of it. The truth is there is something else important and redeemable about this story. This book isn't about her thinning bloodline. It's about her broken self-perception. She is trapped in a purgatory of her own making, spiraling endlessly and lashing out at everyone and everything. And while it hurts to watch someone suffer in this way, especially when they themselves don't realize it and cannot see it, it is important not to look away.
June 10, 2023
Leah Myers’ work combines Native American folklore, family history, and her personal story to tell the story of four generations of women in her family. She begins with her great-grandmother who was the last full-blooded Native member in her family, then her grandmother, then her mother, then herself.
The work is divided into sections based on the totem animal and the family member it represents. The sections start with the myth/legend surrounding that animal. The author included the generally accepted telling of the myth but also tells it in a way that is more tailored to the family member it represents. This was excellently done, and I quite enjoyed how personalized this made the mythology. The rest of the section consists of memories from the author’s own life and personal history of the relative she’s discussing interspersed with relevant history and facts surrounding Native Americans. While this seems like it could feel disjointed, it never did, instead flowing quite smoothly and making for an engaging and informative read.
The author also tackles heavy topics relating to Native American identity struggles. I thought it was fascinating to learn about the blood quantum rules that are present within tribes and how that can affect a descendant’s sense of belonging and cultural ties. Much of the work was about the author feeling like she had to prove herself to everyone – white friends, other minorities in the U.S., other Native Americans, and especially to herself. Her exploration of not feeling native enough but then also feeling like an imposter when she tried to reconnect with more traditional things was moving and heartbreaking.
This poignant memoir was a touching and emotional look at a Native American woman’s life and identity and was deeply insightful. Many thanks to NetGalley and W.W. Norton and Company for allowing me to read this work. All thoughts and opinions expressed in this review are my own.
September 21, 2023
I really wanted to like this book. I did not.
The lyricism and structure of Ms. Myers’ writing is one of the only things that made this book even marginally palatable. Her memoir reads more as a pity plea, or as a poorly supported stand against perceived injustice, while failing to mention that her choices have led her to this place.
The author states that she is the last tribal member of her bloodline, stating that her (hypothetical, but clearly stated as unwanted) children will not be considered nəxʷsƛ̕áy̕əm̕. What she fails to share is that this too, is a choice she has made.
In small snippets, she acknowledges her own culpability, while continuing her lament. In between her endless litany of complaints and excuses, she interweaves much-altered segments of various nəxʷsƛ̕áy̕əm̕ legends and creation stories and continually referring to “spirit animals” and totem poles.
At one point she refers to the Haudenosaunee “alliance of tribes” that *inhabited* Northern New York. She got the state right at least. The Hodinöhsö:ni’ confederacy, comprised of 5 founding nations, though a 6th later joined, INHABIT (to this moment) nearly the entire state of New York and parts of Canada.
Ms. Myers book, and seemingly entire thought process, discounts the resiliency of Native Americans. We are still here. We are alive. Our children (not our hypothetical ones) are alive.
She writes as someone who is standing outside of a gathering, staring longingly through a window wishing to be included,while clutching an invitation in hand; all the while expecting others passing by to feel badly for her.
It’s. Your. Choice.
The lyricism and structure of Ms. Myers’ writing is one of the only things that made this book even marginally palatable. Her memoir reads more as a pity plea, or as a poorly supported stand against perceived injustice, while failing to mention that her choices have led her to this place.
The author states that she is the last tribal member of her bloodline, stating that her (hypothetical, but clearly stated as unwanted) children will not be considered nəxʷsƛ̕áy̕əm̕. What she fails to share is that this too, is a choice she has made.
In small snippets, she acknowledges her own culpability, while continuing her lament. In between her endless litany of complaints and excuses, she interweaves much-altered segments of various nəxʷsƛ̕áy̕əm̕ legends and creation stories and continually referring to “spirit animals” and totem poles.
At one point she refers to the Haudenosaunee “alliance of tribes” that *inhabited* Northern New York. She got the state right at least. The Hodinöhsö:ni’ confederacy, comprised of 5 founding nations, though a 6th later joined, INHABIT (to this moment) nearly the entire state of New York and parts of Canada.
Ms. Myers book, and seemingly entire thought process, discounts the resiliency of Native Americans. We are still here. We are alive. Our children (not our hypothetical ones) are alive.
She writes as someone who is standing outside of a gathering, staring longingly through a window wishing to be included,while clutching an invitation in hand; all the while expecting others passing by to feel badly for her.
It’s. Your. Choice.
November 13, 2023
As a Native person, I wanted to love this book but it left me so infuriated. To me, the author just wanted to be angry, lament her situation, and do little to rematriate. She was met with a community who understands the deep impacts to family and culture as a result of settler-colonialism and. as a result, attempted to embrace her every which way they could. What was left was a person who bore no personal responsibility or a desire to learn from her elders; a person who expected to just "know" or "understand" her culture by having the "blood". Additionally, the dedication and airtime she gave to the movie Pocahontas in this book was frustrating and sad to me; and she speaks about whiteness and Indigeneity in really weird terms, actually dealing in "blood" and describing her unborn, nonexistent child as "white" in the eyes of the law despite his/her "redness". Just no.
June 11, 2024
This is a memoir that wanders through Native American history and myth with poetic flourish; all the while being overtly self-conscious about the fact that the author's one-eighth blood quantum pushes her to the questionable edge of being a "real" Indian. The author is an enrolled member of the Jamestown S/Klalam people, a Coast Salish tribe of the American Pacific Northwest region. Any children the author has are not eligible for membership—unless the father is also enrolled—because one-eighth is the statutory limit.
The author grew up in Georgia, far from the homelands of her people, with little emphasis in learning of tribal culture and lore. But as an adult she has made up for that lack with a vengeance in order to reconnect with her Native American heritage. She introduces the reader to her ancestral maternal line by referring to the graphic image of a totem pole placing her great-grandmother at the base of the pole, represented by the spirit of Bear. Next on the pole comes the author's grandmother (Salmon), then her mother (Hummingbird), and finally, at the top the author herself as a Raven.
The "thinning" of the ancestral blood began with her great-grandmother who in defiance of family wishes married a Russian Jewish Immigrant. Each subsequent generation continued to wander far from the tribe. The author has no plans for children but feels sick with indignation when a white doctor suggests sterilization due to the history of approximately one in four Native American women of childbearing age who were sterilized during the six year period following the 1970 Family Planning Services and Population Research Act.
The statistics on domestic violence and missing and murdered Native women is explored by the book, and then the author tells her own near fatal encounter with a boy friend who was certainly not a friend. I as reader felt like shouting the question at the author, why put up with men like that? Apparently dangerous men seek out Native women with the expectation that they will be helpless, and Native women seem to comply.
The author goes through the thought experiment of imagining the life of her maternal ancestor seven generation into the past, and then imagining seven generations into the future. The differences are so extreme that the future seems impossible to imagine. The book exudes a spirit of longing and sadness over the anticipated future diminishment of Native cultures, and seven generation into the future will surely result in continued loss.
____________
I am providing the following link mostly for my own future reference which is a Substack column written by a "a child of one of the first peoples of North America" in which she discusses how her people are victims of official government policy to diminish their culture and dilute percentage of native blood.
https://sarahsheri.substack.com/p/chi...
The author grew up in Georgia, far from the homelands of her people, with little emphasis in learning of tribal culture and lore. But as an adult she has made up for that lack with a vengeance in order to reconnect with her Native American heritage. She introduces the reader to her ancestral maternal line by referring to the graphic image of a totem pole placing her great-grandmother at the base of the pole, represented by the spirit of Bear. Next on the pole comes the author's grandmother (Salmon), then her mother (Hummingbird), and finally, at the top the author herself as a Raven.
The "thinning" of the ancestral blood began with her great-grandmother who in defiance of family wishes married a Russian Jewish Immigrant. Each subsequent generation continued to wander far from the tribe. The author has no plans for children but feels sick with indignation when a white doctor suggests sterilization due to the history of approximately one in four Native American women of childbearing age who were sterilized during the six year period following the 1970 Family Planning Services and Population Research Act.
The statistics on domestic violence and missing and murdered Native women is explored by the book, and then the author tells her own near fatal encounter with a boy friend who was certainly not a friend. I as reader felt like shouting the question at the author, why put up with men like that? Apparently dangerous men seek out Native women with the expectation that they will be helpless, and Native women seem to comply.
The author goes through the thought experiment of imagining the life of her maternal ancestor seven generation into the past, and then imagining seven generations into the future. The differences are so extreme that the future seems impossible to imagine. The book exudes a spirit of longing and sadness over the anticipated future diminishment of Native cultures, and seven generation into the future will surely result in continued loss.
____________
I am providing the following link mostly for my own future reference which is a Substack column written by a "a child of one of the first peoples of North America" in which she discusses how her people are victims of official government policy to diminish their culture and dilute percentage of native blood.
https://sarahsheri.substack.com/p/chi...
February 17, 2023
This book is both gracefully written and interesting. Myers is a member of a native tribe based in the Olympic peninsula in Washington, but because of the rules defining who gets to be a member of the tribe, she's the last member of her family who will be. If she were to have a child with another member of the tribe, that child would have a higher percentage of tribal blood than she does, but since there are now only about 500 surviving members, she is closely related to most of them. So, because she is on the edge of not "qualifying," much of her life she has been forced to meditate upon the fact that she's not native enough for the tribe, but not white enough for white people.
I know much more about black experiences in the US than native ones, partly because I've read more about that, and partly because the pre-colonial native society was so incredibly complex. In a slim book, Myers manages to get across a lot of points of the history of the relations between tribes and government, which are the basics if you want to begin to understand. The blood quantum rules have been created to avoid tribes being basically turned into nothing because people who have almost no tribal heritage could be part of them, as well as to place limits on who the US government would have to agree was native and qualified for native "benefits," but at the same time they are contributing to the gradual disappearance of tribes, as in this case.
Organizing her four-generation story around the concept of a totem pole with spirit animals for each person, she makes the very interesting point that the entity at the base of the pole is the one that is the most powerful in the sequence, holding up the rest - which shows that whoever coined the expression "low man on the totem pole" had no idea what they were talking about.
It is hard to read a book like this and not think that the US has so much terrible karma banked up, because of all the people it enslaved and exterminated in order to exist, it's hard to imagine it won't all come due in a terrible way.
I recommend this book to anyone who wants to add to their understanding of the history of the native people of the US.
Thanks to NetGalley for letting me read an advance copy of this book.
I know much more about black experiences in the US than native ones, partly because I've read more about that, and partly because the pre-colonial native society was so incredibly complex. In a slim book, Myers manages to get across a lot of points of the history of the relations between tribes and government, which are the basics if you want to begin to understand. The blood quantum rules have been created to avoid tribes being basically turned into nothing because people who have almost no tribal heritage could be part of them, as well as to place limits on who the US government would have to agree was native and qualified for native "benefits," but at the same time they are contributing to the gradual disappearance of tribes, as in this case.
Organizing her four-generation story around the concept of a totem pole with spirit animals for each person, she makes the very interesting point that the entity at the base of the pole is the one that is the most powerful in the sequence, holding up the rest - which shows that whoever coined the expression "low man on the totem pole" had no idea what they were talking about.
It is hard to read a book like this and not think that the US has so much terrible karma banked up, because of all the people it enslaved and exterminated in order to exist, it's hard to imagine it won't all come due in a terrible way.
I recommend this book to anyone who wants to add to their understanding of the history of the native people of the US.
Thanks to NetGalley for letting me read an advance copy of this book.
November 8, 2023
I found this book extremely disappointing and exceedingly frustrating. It's like the Wish version of Braiding Sweet Grass. The brief, shallow examinations of each generation's circumstance are eclipsed by the author's overwhelming judgment and resentment towards them. The author blames quantum blood laws, perceived rejection by fellow natives, and the failures of her foremothers for her lack of connection to her culture while simultaneously declining every opportunity to reconnect. At one point, the author tells us that it felt like "coming home" to move back to her peoples native land but she later explains that she could not stay because she was cheated on and there was not enough "entertainment", which she'd grown accustomed to from living in big cities. I could hardly read this book over the sound of the author playing herself a tiny violin the whole time. If I didn't have such a compulsive need to finish a book once I start it, I would've chucked this into oblivion by the time I was 30% in.
May 26, 2025
"Thinning Blood" is the memoir of a woman who is grappling with her native American heritage. She is 1/8 native, and blood quantum laws state that her descendants would not have enough Indian blood to qualify for tribal membership. The author spends a lot of time lamenting this fate, while at the same time discussing how she grew up outside of native traditions, and when offered opportunities to participate in drumming circles or language lessons, she turned them down. It is a frustrating read for me, especially when the author seemed to have more affinity for her native heritage through constant binge sessions of Disney's Pocahontas than connecting with others of native heritage.
I cannot know what anyone else's experience is like, especially a woman of indigenous heritage, so I cannot and will not pass judgment on anyone's life choices. That being said, it was still frustrating to be inside this book. I hope the author finds her peace.
I cannot know what anyone else's experience is like, especially a woman of indigenous heritage, so I cannot and will not pass judgment on anyone's life choices. That being said, it was still frustrating to be inside this book. I hope the author finds her peace.
November 2, 2024
While this book wasn't one that had a big impact on me, it is not a bad book by any means! I would class it with Spirit Run: A 6,000-Mile Marathon Through North America's Stolen Land and Heart Berries, in that it is by a new generation of young people writing as a way of processing their relationship to their native heritage and how that has come to them or intersected with their family experiences. Some of these are great, but some feel slightly green and underdeveloped.
What this book does exceptionally well is illustrate the pain of this author's experience of being both connected to her tribe and the land her tribe comes from, but also disconnected from the culture and daily life of the tribe. In one powerful passage, she talks about the pain of not knowing her own language as it is taught in local schools, and how she is both happy and jealous that the children are learning the language that she never had the chance to learn.
My frustration with this book simply comes with the fact that I generally don't enjoy memoirs that feel like they came straight from a writer's workshop, and this is one of those. It jumps around and covers a surprising amount of ground in a short length, but it ultimately feels like some loosely connected essays and it means that nothing here feels fully explored or examined. I think I may have even liked it more if it was a series of essays instead.
What this book does exceptionally well is illustrate the pain of this author's experience of being both connected to her tribe and the land her tribe comes from, but also disconnected from the culture and daily life of the tribe. In one powerful passage, she talks about the pain of not knowing her own language as it is taught in local schools, and how she is both happy and jealous that the children are learning the language that she never had the chance to learn.
My frustration with this book simply comes with the fact that I generally don't enjoy memoirs that feel like they came straight from a writer's workshop, and this is one of those. It jumps around and covers a surprising amount of ground in a short length, but it ultimately feels like some loosely connected essays and it means that nothing here feels fully explored or examined. I think I may have even liked it more if it was a series of essays instead.
June 25, 2025
Have you ever read a memoir where you're sure parts are either made up or the author's perception is so delusional that parts seems invented? Finished despite wanting to DNF just so I wouldn't feel bad for writing a bad review. I'm always looking to read Native voices and experiences but not everyone needs to write a book. Especially an Indigenous person who whines about not feeling Indigenous enough but then purposefully avoids doing anything cultural unless she can be viewed as "Full Native" by white people.
Firstly - this book is all over the place. not a lot of structure we get stats mixed with whiny personal anecdotes, then stories from the S'Klallam people but she has made edits to them and writes her "own versions". She says she is the record keeper of her people and yet bastardizes traditional knowledge.
Myers, who after explaining that blood quantum is bad, refers to herself and the people around her by percentages or using settler language like "Full native". Talks about how bad blood quantum is but constantly brings up her own- 1/8 if anyone cares.
Myers has inhabited white spaces all her life- academically, personally, professionally. She talks about racist interactions with her white friends and ex husband. She moves around cities, complaining about her disconnect from her Indigeneity but when given many opportunities to change that- through cultural events, courses, protests, and ceremony- she refuses to attend and then blames her husband or Native people for making her feel excluded.
At a powwow with her ex husband: "We left before the music started. I clicked "interested" on every invite going forward, knowing I would never attend again. I couldn't begin to escape the otherness he had cast me in (she did that to herself), no matter how much I wanted to". she's invited to language classes after complaining she can't speak the language. Refuses to go. Doesn't go to beading classes, trainings... she does it to herself then complains about "otherness".
What infuriated me is what followed-
"When I started writing about Native American issues in my first nonfiction workshop, people reacted. No one knew all of the things that felt like common knowledge to me. I felt like I was a defining voice. It finally felt like enough." BECAUSE SHE TALKED ABOUT NATIVE ISSUES TO WHITE PEOPLE. In white people's eyes, she was "Native enough" but too embarrassed and judgmental to spend any time with Native folks.
When injured, she goes to the Phoenix Indian Medical Centre and goes into detail about her (fictional? Perceived?) treatment there. She feels out of place because everyone there looks "more Native" than her aka- braids, darker skin. She reads that they judge her. "She asked for my Tribal ID. She double checked my registration. She asked why I was there. I felt the cutting double edge that question may have held, but I chose to only give her the medical reason" she's looking into it. The Indigenous admitting nurse was not thinking that. No one was thinking that. You are not a victim of medical maltreatment due to not being Native enough. Grow up.
"Every pair of Native eyes was on me, and it felt like they were waiting for something. Every pair of white eyes, largely belonging to the doctors and nurses, moved over me as if I was not there. I texted my Native mother and my White fiancé. I made a joke to make them feel better about letting me go there alone".
Maybe you don't feel Native enough because you create this perceived judgment and hatred from other Native people. She paints them as bullies and exclusionaries when they're literally sick people in a medical waiting room. Probably mostly seniors, disabled, in pain. Her sprained ankle and her holier than thou attitude made her think these people hated her.
"The other Natives continued to stare. Children who pointed in my direction and seemed to be asking about me were hushed by their elders. The mistrust made the air heavy. Despite my copper skin, they still saw me as other, as outsider, as not like them." Trust me no one in a hospital waiting room gives a shit. Seriously, grow up.
The only nurse who "saw her as a person": "I took in his face, he was neither White nor Native, something outside the two major circles who moved in that space. He was the first person I was sure had seen me as just a person during that whole trip"
She claims the Native nurses were trying to "judge the purity of [her] blood" bear with me im nearly done.
Myers explains that she was so lost as a child that she built her whole Native identity based on the Disney movie Pocahontas. When she found out her hair wasn't magical and she couldn't talk to trees, it ruined her mythical Native identity. Now she's sad :(
As an adult- "I think I have more in common with Pocahontas that I originally thought" oh yes you have so much in common with a child who was raped, trafficked, used as a circus attraction and killed by disease by the age of 21, only to be portrayed as a princess in a racist kids movie who can talk to animals and loves white men.
Then she blames racist stereotypes in a Disney movie for why she doesn't feel Native enough.
At one point in the book (in a chapter that is essentially just a list of slurs and definitions), she wonders if people think she's a Pretendian. She should really look at herself and her actions because if people think that, there's definitely good reason. Later, she wonders if elders would be ashamed of her if they were alive. Obviously having no idea about or interactions with elders, Knowledge Keepers and ancestors.
It's a short book thankfully and an easy read. There's nice Coast Salish animal illustrations throughout. She bravely shares an assault where a boy she liked attempted to kill her and that was a powerful choice I truly hope she is healing from that, especially with violence rates against Native women. She also describes a visit to the doctor for an IUD and being offered sterilization which is a very real issue for Native women (though usually they aren't asked first).
I do not doubt she has experienced discrimination and racism. I don't doubt she's had shitty white friends and past partners. She says she's been mistaken for Mexican and based on her picture, she is not white passing so I wouldn't doubt she's experienced racism. But her perceived ostracism from Indigenous communities sounds like fiction to me. You don't get to proudly call yourself Native (insta handle is n8v_wordsmith) but reject Indigenous knowledge, traditions, and community. It takes a lot of work to reconnect to the culture taken from you.
Leah: Urban Native to Urban Native, it's not your fault you're disconnected. But it's your responsibility to build connections. Other people aren't stopping you, you're just scared? Lazy? Judgmental? Discriminatory? So quit whining and blaming and maybe click attending on the Facebook Powwow invite. Participate in ceremony. Recognize your privilege and maybe stop singing along to goddamn Pocahontas songs.
Firstly - this book is all over the place. not a lot of structure we get stats mixed with whiny personal anecdotes, then stories from the S'Klallam people but she has made edits to them and writes her "own versions". She says she is the record keeper of her people and yet bastardizes traditional knowledge.
Myers, who after explaining that blood quantum is bad, refers to herself and the people around her by percentages or using settler language like "Full native". Talks about how bad blood quantum is but constantly brings up her own- 1/8 if anyone cares.
Myers has inhabited white spaces all her life- academically, personally, professionally. She talks about racist interactions with her white friends and ex husband. She moves around cities, complaining about her disconnect from her Indigeneity but when given many opportunities to change that- through cultural events, courses, protests, and ceremony- she refuses to attend and then blames her husband or Native people for making her feel excluded.
At a powwow with her ex husband: "We left before the music started. I clicked "interested" on every invite going forward, knowing I would never attend again. I couldn't begin to escape the otherness he had cast me in (she did that to herself), no matter how much I wanted to". she's invited to language classes after complaining she can't speak the language. Refuses to go. Doesn't go to beading classes, trainings... she does it to herself then complains about "otherness".
What infuriated me is what followed-
"When I started writing about Native American issues in my first nonfiction workshop, people reacted. No one knew all of the things that felt like common knowledge to me. I felt like I was a defining voice. It finally felt like enough." BECAUSE SHE TALKED ABOUT NATIVE ISSUES TO WHITE PEOPLE. In white people's eyes, she was "Native enough" but too embarrassed and judgmental to spend any time with Native folks.
When injured, she goes to the Phoenix Indian Medical Centre and goes into detail about her (fictional? Perceived?) treatment there. She feels out of place because everyone there looks "more Native" than her aka- braids, darker skin. She reads that they judge her. "She asked for my Tribal ID. She double checked my registration. She asked why I was there. I felt the cutting double edge that question may have held, but I chose to only give her the medical reason" she's looking into it. The Indigenous admitting nurse was not thinking that. No one was thinking that. You are not a victim of medical maltreatment due to not being Native enough. Grow up.
"Every pair of Native eyes was on me, and it felt like they were waiting for something. Every pair of white eyes, largely belonging to the doctors and nurses, moved over me as if I was not there. I texted my Native mother and my White fiancé. I made a joke to make them feel better about letting me go there alone".
Maybe you don't feel Native enough because you create this perceived judgment and hatred from other Native people. She paints them as bullies and exclusionaries when they're literally sick people in a medical waiting room. Probably mostly seniors, disabled, in pain. Her sprained ankle and her holier than thou attitude made her think these people hated her.
"The other Natives continued to stare. Children who pointed in my direction and seemed to be asking about me were hushed by their elders. The mistrust made the air heavy. Despite my copper skin, they still saw me as other, as outsider, as not like them." Trust me no one in a hospital waiting room gives a shit. Seriously, grow up.
The only nurse who "saw her as a person": "I took in his face, he was neither White nor Native, something outside the two major circles who moved in that space. He was the first person I was sure had seen me as just a person during that whole trip"
She claims the Native nurses were trying to "judge the purity of [her] blood" bear with me im nearly done.
Myers explains that she was so lost as a child that she built her whole Native identity based on the Disney movie Pocahontas. When she found out her hair wasn't magical and she couldn't talk to trees, it ruined her mythical Native identity. Now she's sad :(
As an adult- "I think I have more in common with Pocahontas that I originally thought" oh yes you have so much in common with a child who was raped, trafficked, used as a circus attraction and killed by disease by the age of 21, only to be portrayed as a princess in a racist kids movie who can talk to animals and loves white men.
Then she blames racist stereotypes in a Disney movie for why she doesn't feel Native enough.
At one point in the book (in a chapter that is essentially just a list of slurs and definitions), she wonders if people think she's a Pretendian. She should really look at herself and her actions because if people think that, there's definitely good reason. Later, she wonders if elders would be ashamed of her if they were alive. Obviously having no idea about or interactions with elders, Knowledge Keepers and ancestors.
It's a short book thankfully and an easy read. There's nice Coast Salish animal illustrations throughout. She bravely shares an assault where a boy she liked attempted to kill her and that was a powerful choice I truly hope she is healing from that, especially with violence rates against Native women. She also describes a visit to the doctor for an IUD and being offered sterilization which is a very real issue for Native women (though usually they aren't asked first).
I do not doubt she has experienced discrimination and racism. I don't doubt she's had shitty white friends and past partners. She says she's been mistaken for Mexican and based on her picture, she is not white passing so I wouldn't doubt she's experienced racism. But her perceived ostracism from Indigenous communities sounds like fiction to me. You don't get to proudly call yourself Native (insta handle is n8v_wordsmith) but reject Indigenous knowledge, traditions, and community. It takes a lot of work to reconnect to the culture taken from you.
Leah: Urban Native to Urban Native, it's not your fault you're disconnected. But it's your responsibility to build connections. Other people aren't stopping you, you're just scared? Lazy? Judgmental? Discriminatory? So quit whining and blaming and maybe click attending on the Facebook Powwow invite. Participate in ceremony. Recognize your privilege and maybe stop singing along to goddamn Pocahontas songs.
February 29, 2024
I’m having a hard time putting my thoughts into words or rating this.
I think that reading perspectives that are different than our own is very important for everyone to do. I learned a lot from this book and also deepened the knowledge I already had prior. A big part of this book is that Myers tells her story of growing up around white people who dismiss her identity, and white people will never know what that’s like. But we can educate ourselves in order to acknowledge biases and understand those around us.
I see criticism about her self-sabotaging when it comes to her identity, but I also see someone who feels guilt and regret over her choices. She knows what’s best for her and what she wants, but that doesn’t mean people do things perfectly or don’t have regrets.
As a woman, there were a few things I related strongly to, but it also puts how much harder it is for poc into perspective which I thought she did a good job of doing. I was really interested in what she had to say and learning more about native american culture. While doing so, she also kept it short enough to make some readers do their own research, which is how it should be as it’s not her responsibility to teach us everything. There’s an extra layer of educating ourselves on genocide and not letting people forget what happened, especially when there’s a genocide occurring right now and people are letting it slide by.
February 9, 2024
Thinning Blood wasn’t what I imagined based off the description. While I had hoped for more mythology or blurring the line between fiction and reality, I am still happy to have listened to it. At times I felt frustrated by Leah and the way she saw the world, but then, I would remember the darkness that clouded my eyes at my worst days. I hope sharing this story with us felt cathartic for her.
I liked the stories of Bear, Salmon, Hummingbird, and Raven a lot. Especially Bear and Raven. I wonder if it was purposeful that in the stories Bear and Raven never ended up meeting, while they interacted with the others in someway?
There were times I felt it strayed or that a story wasn’t the best fit, but ultimately my take away is a positive. I hope to read more books by Native American authors and I will definitely be on the lookout for any of Leah’s next works.
I liked the stories of Bear, Salmon, Hummingbird, and Raven a lot. Especially Bear and Raven. I wonder if it was purposeful that in the stories Bear and Raven never ended up meeting, while they interacted with the others in someway?
There were times I felt it strayed or that a story wasn’t the best fit, but ultimately my take away is a positive. I hope to read more books by Native American authors and I will definitely be on the lookout for any of Leah’s next works.
March 29, 2023
This book was written by a woman who is very likely to be the last member of the Jamestown S’Klallam Tribe in her family line, due to her tribe’s strict blood quantum laws. Her great-grandmother chose to marry outside of the tribe, and that is where Myers begins sharing her family story with us, weaving together native folklore, personal reflections, and filling in the blanks where her family history isn’t clear.
And for a moment I’m going to make this about me. Because I need you to understand my perspective and why I felt so much deep love and appreciation for this book. For a while now, I’ve understood that I have native ancestors. And long before that, I often questioned it, and so did people around me sometimes. But here’s something I only recently learned. My great-grandfather, who I met only once, when I was in middle school, spoke not Spanish, but Lowland Chontal as his first language.
The thing about the word “Chontal” is that the internet tells me it’s the Nahuatl word for “stranger.” When the Spaniards arrived, they asked someone who spoke that language about those people on the mountain, and they were like, “we don’t know,” and now it’s the main word used by my family to describe our language.
It was in school that my great-grandfather learned to feel shame about that language, the only one he’d ever spoken at home, when, anytime he spoke in that tongue to his classmates, the teacher would physically reprimand him, telling him to only speak Spanish. And so he was very intentional about making sure that none of his children picked up on the language, even sending them away from the room when his siblings came over and spoke Chontal together.
Back to the book. To read about a native woman who knows that unless the rules change, even if she has kids, they will not be considered native but rather white? And for her to wrestle with the loss of identity, culture, and language that stemmed from her great-grandmother choosing to marry a white man instead of marrying within the tribe? That hit close to home. We might have grown up in different contexts and in what are now even considered different countries, but this author and I have so much in common.
There is so much I could say about this book. The writing style is beautiful. The way the writer thinks about her family and her tribe feel so familiar to me and make me feel so seen. Seeing a writer fill in the blanks where her family’s story has been lost was so meaningful to me. This book was so well-written, so beautifully poetic in its style and language, while also being a bit painful the entire time. This book is important and valuable and I’ll be screaming from the virtual rooftops about it for a while.
And for a moment I’m going to make this about me. Because I need you to understand my perspective and why I felt so much deep love and appreciation for this book. For a while now, I’ve understood that I have native ancestors. And long before that, I often questioned it, and so did people around me sometimes. But here’s something I only recently learned. My great-grandfather, who I met only once, when I was in middle school, spoke not Spanish, but Lowland Chontal as his first language.
The thing about the word “Chontal” is that the internet tells me it’s the Nahuatl word for “stranger.” When the Spaniards arrived, they asked someone who spoke that language about those people on the mountain, and they were like, “we don’t know,” and now it’s the main word used by my family to describe our language.
It was in school that my great-grandfather learned to feel shame about that language, the only one he’d ever spoken at home, when, anytime he spoke in that tongue to his classmates, the teacher would physically reprimand him, telling him to only speak Spanish. And so he was very intentional about making sure that none of his children picked up on the language, even sending them away from the room when his siblings came over and spoke Chontal together.
Back to the book. To read about a native woman who knows that unless the rules change, even if she has kids, they will not be considered native but rather white? And for her to wrestle with the loss of identity, culture, and language that stemmed from her great-grandmother choosing to marry a white man instead of marrying within the tribe? That hit close to home. We might have grown up in different contexts and in what are now even considered different countries, but this author and I have so much in common.
There is so much I could say about this book. The writing style is beautiful. The way the writer thinks about her family and her tribe feel so familiar to me and make me feel so seen. Seeing a writer fill in the blanks where her family’s story has been lost was so meaningful to me. This book was so well-written, so beautifully poetic in its style and language, while also being a bit painful the entire time. This book is important and valuable and I’ll be screaming from the virtual rooftops about it for a while.
March 3, 2024
This was fine. The structure was interesting and I liked the folklore aspects of it, but this was not very engaging. Was expecting something more educational and got anecdote after anecdote. This feels like a book that’s main purpose was to be written instead of read. However, I still learned a lot about a tribe I never would have heard of without reading this, so the exposure is beneficial to anyone who might read this.
February 6, 2024
I enjoyed my time with this book. The topics covered are something I think all Americans should be more informed about.
I thought the best parts of the book were the autobiographical parts. I was very interested in Myers' life experiences and how she's come to terms with the struggles of identity and belonging she describes.
I thought the best parts of the book were the autobiographical parts. I was very interested in Myers' life experiences and how she's come to terms with the struggles of identity and belonging she describes.
February 9, 2024
This is a unique memoir, whose uniqueness worked for me in some ways and worked against me in others. I enjoyed the four sections - Bear, Salmon, Hummingbird, and Raven - and their related fables that worked well as analogies for the family members they represented. The general content of the book is also very good, covering both personal struggle and historical travesty.
The thing that really didn't work for me though was the structure inside each part, specifically how there would be 2, 3, or more lines of thought that would switch in and out every couple paragrahs. I constantly had to context switch and felt like I could never get very deep into one topic before it switched to the next. It was particularly difficult in Bear, but got better as the book went along.
Overall it was worth reading, if nothing more than to be better informed about the extremely terrible events that Native Americans have had to endure. There were times when the author frustrated me with the way she spoke about things and the general pessimism she often has, but Raven didn't steal the light for me, she stole it for herself. It may have ended up in the sky for me to see, but it will always, in a way, be hers.
The thing that really didn't work for me though was the structure inside each part, specifically how there would be 2, 3, or more lines of thought that would switch in and out every couple paragrahs. I constantly had to context switch and felt like I could never get very deep into one topic before it switched to the next. It was particularly difficult in Bear, but got better as the book went along.
Overall it was worth reading, if nothing more than to be better informed about the extremely terrible events that Native Americans have had to endure. There were times when the author frustrated me with the way she spoke about things and the general pessimism she often has, but Raven didn't steal the light for me, she stole it for herself. It may have ended up in the sky for me to see, but it will always, in a way, be hers.
January 16, 2024
This was okay. I enjoyed the storytelling elements and the author’s attempt to weave them in with real life experiences, however it didn’t really work. She attempted to use them as a hopeful narrative, but they clashed with her constant negativity. I understand imposter syndrome but I didn’t vibe this author’s extreme self-loathing. It’s confusing to me that she talks about her bloodline thinning and wanting to reclaim it through storytelling, but spent the majority of the memoir being angry and complaining about stuff she didn’t do. This read more like a school paper than a full fledged memoir.
April 12, 2023
(Note: I received an advanced reader copy of this book courtesy of NetGalley)
Don’t let the relatively short length of Thinning Blood make you underestimate it for so much as a moment. Lisa Myers’ memoir contains US indigenous history, her own family’s history going back several generations, native folklore, and binding it all together is her own reflections upon the struggles that she’s faced with her identity. The bold honesty and openness in which she writes makes for an eye-opening experience for readers like myself, who not only get an intimate window into her own life but also a deeper look on what it can mean to be indigenous in the modern day, and the challenges that it can entail (blood quantum and its impacts dominate center stage in the book, as to be expected, but it’s by no means the only challenge covered). But although the experiences that Myers shares are of course uniquely hers, I think that any reader who has wrestled with a yearning to belong or imposter syndrome will also be surprised by just how much her story is able to resonate on a personal level as well - or at least such was my own experience.
Thinning Blood packs a mighty and memorable punch, and I look forward to making this readily available on my library's shelves as quickly as soon as I can. I know that 2023 is still fresh, but it's going to be a challenge to unseat this as my favorite memoir of the year so far.
Don’t let the relatively short length of Thinning Blood make you underestimate it for so much as a moment. Lisa Myers’ memoir contains US indigenous history, her own family’s history going back several generations, native folklore, and binding it all together is her own reflections upon the struggles that she’s faced with her identity. The bold honesty and openness in which she writes makes for an eye-opening experience for readers like myself, who not only get an intimate window into her own life but also a deeper look on what it can mean to be indigenous in the modern day, and the challenges that it can entail (blood quantum and its impacts dominate center stage in the book, as to be expected, but it’s by no means the only challenge covered). But although the experiences that Myers shares are of course uniquely hers, I think that any reader who has wrestled with a yearning to belong or imposter syndrome will also be surprised by just how much her story is able to resonate on a personal level as well - or at least such was my own experience.
Thinning Blood packs a mighty and memorable punch, and I look forward to making this readily available on my library's shelves as quickly as soon as I can. I know that 2023 is still fresh, but it's going to be a challenge to unseat this as my favorite memoir of the year so far.
November 4, 2025
This is maybe the poster child for “fantastic idea/blurb, poor execution.”
This is disjointed, and hops back and forth between subjects and stories that have nothing to do with each other with no purpose. The author is painfully allergic to introspection/self-reflection, both positive and negative. It was shallow and disorganized, leaving some of the incredibly interesting nuggets lost in a sea of stream of consciousness rambling that had little to nothing to do with the subject of the book. It’s marketed as an examination of blood quantum laws and connection to a dwindling culture, and it’s just… not. Super disappointed in this and I probably would have DNFed if it wasn’t such a short listen.
This is disjointed, and hops back and forth between subjects and stories that have nothing to do with each other with no purpose. The author is painfully allergic to introspection/self-reflection, both positive and negative. It was shallow and disorganized, leaving some of the incredibly interesting nuggets lost in a sea of stream of consciousness rambling that had little to nothing to do with the subject of the book. It’s marketed as an examination of blood quantum laws and connection to a dwindling culture, and it’s just… not. Super disappointed in this and I probably would have DNFed if it wasn’t such a short listen.
August 29, 2025
I really enjoyed this very short book, which mixes traditional stories, family history and the author's personal research and experience. I didn't realise the impact that the blood quantum laws have on Native communities and the author faces her future (hypothetical) children no longer being part of the community, due to the legacy of the colonial rules, which felt really sad. She gives a good overview of the history of the European invasion and colonisation of the land and people; overall I wouldn't say I learned too much reading this book, because this isn't the first one I read on the subject, but it was a great introduction.
November 3, 2025
This was a touching and thoughtful read that offered a heartfelt window into present-day Native American life. I found the blend of personal experience, history, and cultural reflection to be powerful. It provided me with insight that felt both intimate and educational, and it encouraged me to rethink my assumptions and pay closer attention to voices and stories that are often overlooked. I walked away with a deeper appreciation for the resilience and complexity within these communities.
The writing had many strong moments, but the flow was not always consistent. Some sections did not hold my attention as much as others, and I occasionally found myself wishing the narrative moved with more clarity or energy. Even with those moments, I am still glad I read it.
The writing had many strong moments, but the flow was not always consistent. Some sections did not hold my attention as much as others, and I occasionally found myself wishing the narrative moved with more clarity or energy. Even with those moments, I am still glad I read it.
August 16, 2023
You know I’m a sucker for books with a genealogical theme! The author does a good job of weaving personal stories with tribal folktales, historical info and current system failings, and family myth and history. Easy number of pages to digest (read it in a few sittings), but topics are not so easy and leave me curious to continue to learn more
December 14, 2024
Not bad. Feels very much like an excellent essay. There is something very “American” about this book. Something very conventional. Anyways, the author sounds like a lovely person and will surely keep maturing and delivering, and that’s why I feel so bad giving an unfavourable review to such a young author.
However, I basically felt like I was reading the essay of an American university student. Her analysis of Pocahontas seemed very trite to me and very ordinary, i think most non western girls felt the same about this movie given that it featured the only “Disney princes” who wasn’t white at the time. I didn’t feel she added much to topic and in the end I felt a bit fed up.
The author also re-telling Native American legends from her own perspective is very confusing to the external reader. How are we supposed to relate or understand if we don’t have the conventional version of these legends. I understand that she talking about recreating her own mythology in the face of cultural erasure but somehow this feels like a personal process to the author that was imposed on us. At the end of the day the author is entitled to her narrative choices but the appeal of founding legends is their universal dimension. But making these myths fragmentary, watered down and personal, I felt that the author alienated both herself and the reader. However, once again, this is a valid personal choice in a very personal book. Simply, valid as it may be, it wasn’t enjoyable to read.
However, I basically felt like I was reading the essay of an American university student. Her analysis of Pocahontas seemed very trite to me and very ordinary, i think most non western girls felt the same about this movie given that it featured the only “Disney princes” who wasn’t white at the time. I didn’t feel she added much to topic and in the end I felt a bit fed up.
The author also re-telling Native American legends from her own perspective is very confusing to the external reader. How are we supposed to relate or understand if we don’t have the conventional version of these legends. I understand that she talking about recreating her own mythology in the face of cultural erasure but somehow this feels like a personal process to the author that was imposed on us. At the end of the day the author is entitled to her narrative choices but the appeal of founding legends is their universal dimension. But making these myths fragmentary, watered down and personal, I felt that the author alienated both herself and the reader. However, once again, this is a valid personal choice in a very personal book. Simply, valid as it may be, it wasn’t enjoyable to read.
November 6, 2025
The best thing about this book was—honestly—the end 🙄 I was genuinely interested at first, but the narrator turned out to be so self-centred that it became almost unbearable. It felt less authentic and gave off major self-absorbed American woke vibes.
April 19, 2024
Disappointing. Mediocre writing. I was expecting an exploration of culture/feeling caught between multiple cultures, and instead it seemed to be an exploration of her… not exploring her culture? She refuses invitations to native events, resents natives who know the language (because she doesn’t, and won’t learn), skips every protest she has a chance to participate in, and moves far away from her reservation that she initially felt so connected to (inexplicably) because she misses “city life”. The Pocahontas chapter was painful to read. It read like a high school essay (we don’t need timestamps — everyone has seen that movie). She goes on and on about being the last of her bloodline, but it’s *her* choice (she seems to exclusively date abusive white boys, and she doesn’t want to have kids in the first place), so that just sorta felt like a stretch? And then she throws in poorly written myths to represent her lineage, which felt forced/not organic. The letter to her future imaginary descendants was just… bad. Another chapter that felt very high school.
I guess I’m just confused as to why this memoir was written in the first place. It didn’t say much (I was not surprised to learn Myers was in her twenties when she wrote this), and it felt like the author just wanted to be pissed off and complain, without doing anything to show awareness/self-reflection, or to grow/change her situation.
Really wanted to like this one. Great idea, poor execution.
*just coming back to add that I truly believe this author has the potential to write something excellent (I could see the good bones of her writing). I think maybe she just wrote this too young (if I wrote a memoir in my twenties it would not have been great either). I stand by what I said before, but I’m going to keep an eye out for her next work so I can give her writing another chance.
I guess I’m just confused as to why this memoir was written in the first place. It didn’t say much (I was not surprised to learn Myers was in her twenties when she wrote this), and it felt like the author just wanted to be pissed off and complain, without doing anything to show awareness/self-reflection, or to grow/change her situation.
Really wanted to like this one. Great idea, poor execution.
*just coming back to add that I truly believe this author has the potential to write something excellent (I could see the good bones of her writing). I think maybe she just wrote this too young (if I wrote a memoir in my twenties it would not have been great either). I stand by what I said before, but I’m going to keep an eye out for her next work so I can give her writing another chance.
February 23, 2023
Thinning Blood is a heartbreaking and fierce memoir about Indigenous identity in the United States, place and personhood, and grappling with generations of trauma caused by the American government and its agents. Myers is forthright, describing her family's and her own losses and trials with bravery and honesty and elan that makes me want to hear her read or speak in public. Working through her own personal and professional development as she goes, she constructs a way of thinking about the women of her line through spirits and totems, explaining how the matriarch of each generation handled her identity as Native American and what she taught her children about it--shame, pride, the need to obfuscate. Myers also addresses the role of popular culture in the understanding of Native Americans, citing her own childhood love of the very problematic Disney movie Pocahontas. This is an outstanding book, and I know book groups and high school and college classes will find it challenging and enduring.
January 24, 2024
I really wanted to like this book, but unfortunately I didn't enjoy this read. The author is the last person in her familial bloodline and 1/8th S’Klallam. This memoir reads more like a eulogy than cultural rekindling or awakening.
Blood quantum is unfortunately a strong remnant of colonial influence to dissipate and divide indigenous tribes. However, for most of the book the author talks about events, classes, and opportunities that come her way to connect with her culture and people but there is always some reason for why she doesn't partake. I fully understand the pain of colonialism and genocide of your ancestors, but in my experience it puts a fire in my belly to suck the marrow out of all of the teachings, culture and wisdom of my people to refuse to let it die out. Everyone is different, everyone grieves different, but this book is a eulogy for sure.
Blood quantum is unfortunately a strong remnant of colonial influence to dissipate and divide indigenous tribes. However, for most of the book the author talks about events, classes, and opportunities that come her way to connect with her culture and people but there is always some reason for why she doesn't partake. I fully understand the pain of colonialism and genocide of your ancestors, but in my experience it puts a fire in my belly to suck the marrow out of all of the teachings, culture and wisdom of my people to refuse to let it die out. Everyone is different, everyone grieves different, but this book is a eulogy for sure.
November 21, 2024
I did not appreciate the approach of the book or the authors hypocrisy when it came to blood quantums (1/8 vs 1/16). I was very turned off by that, and comments made towards/about being/assumed Mexican.
November 5, 2025
This little collection of essays is difficult to pigeon-hole. Is it about the loss of tribal voices in America’s assembly of Native tribes? Is it about the author’s dissatisfaction with how she’s performed her role as the last generation of her tribe to “count” as being part of that tribe (she’s 1/8 tribal blood, but that’s the minimal amount of “blood” recognized by both the government, AND THE TRIBE ITSELF, to mark one as having tribal membership). She’s the end of the line.
There’s some serious expunging of guilt going on here—she didn’t pursue her culture as a child, when she KNEW she was Native (what kid can be blamed for this) and yet feasted on the rabidly anti-Native Disney cartoon “Pocahontas.” She didn’t leave her studies to help stand against big oil during pipeline protests. She stayed out of culturally Native events and public gatherings, blaming her then-husband, her job, her school—-anything but herself. She suffered from an acute case of “imposter syndrome,” but castigated people who spoke about Native issues with minimal research or connection.
She ends by vowing to keep her culture alive through research, storytelling, preserving, writing, but adamantly refuses to have children because A) She doesn’t think she’d be a good enough mom (fair enough), but B ) The children would be 1/16 S’lakllam, and “unquantifiable” for either the government OR tribal polices affecting the people.
What works best: her reliance on using her own totem pole to describe her female predecessors; the interweaving of lore to introduce key points in her prose; her inclusion of current statistics and legal rulings that serve to destroy her tribe from without. Especially poignant/important is the statistic on missing Native women and the MMIW.
A decent reading outing (short, at 172 pages), but confusing—-is the author too white? Or not Indian enough? At the end, she assures us she’s come to realize that she is S’lakllam, but I felt unsure as if she REALLY believed this or not
There’s some serious expunging of guilt going on here—she didn’t pursue her culture as a child, when she KNEW she was Native (what kid can be blamed for this) and yet feasted on the rabidly anti-Native Disney cartoon “Pocahontas.” She didn’t leave her studies to help stand against big oil during pipeline protests. She stayed out of culturally Native events and public gatherings, blaming her then-husband, her job, her school—-anything but herself. She suffered from an acute case of “imposter syndrome,” but castigated people who spoke about Native issues with minimal research or connection.
She ends by vowing to keep her culture alive through research, storytelling, preserving, writing, but adamantly refuses to have children because A) She doesn’t think she’d be a good enough mom (fair enough), but B ) The children would be 1/16 S’lakllam, and “unquantifiable” for either the government OR tribal polices affecting the people.
What works best: her reliance on using her own totem pole to describe her female predecessors; the interweaving of lore to introduce key points in her prose; her inclusion of current statistics and legal rulings that serve to destroy her tribe from without. Especially poignant/important is the statistic on missing Native women and the MMIW.
A decent reading outing (short, at 172 pages), but confusing—-is the author too white? Or not Indian enough? At the end, she assures us she’s come to realize that she is S’lakllam, but I felt unsure as if she REALLY believed this or not
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