Anishinabe author Ruby Slipperjack accomplishes something quite extraordinary in this book—namely the creation of a child’s voice recounting her time at a Residential School through diary entries, but without a hint of condescension, oversimplification, or imposed/manipulative naïveté. Violet’s voice rings so true, it’s breathtaking.
This book would be an excellent entry point into the topic of Truth and Reconciliation at a middle years level. It beautifully and deftly bridges the gap between picture books and/or children’s literature that I’ve read on this topic, and the grittier, rawer accounts of Residential Schools that one often reads in high school. For obvious reasons of age appropriateness, picture books and children’s literature on this subject tend towards highlighting and focussing on the feelings of loneliness, anger, confusion, and sadness that result from children being separated from their families and being forced to attend Residential Schools, rather than the experiences of racism, violence, segregation, depression, and cultural genocide that Indigenous authors and survivors went through, since these can only be forthrightly described and addressed when writing for readers in later adolescence and early adulthood. Slipperjack manages to weave all of these necessary topics into this book with incredible sensitivity, through allusion and suggestion rather than explicit description; for example, Violet becomes aware of the very real possibilities of abuse and assault through near encounters and close calls, rather than lived experiences. This aspect of the book is really brilliant, because it effectively and impactingly introduces the dangers and fears faced by Violet without venturing into full-blown trauma.
Another facet of the book that I really appreciated was Slipperjack’s ability to expose the disgrace and insidious agenda of the Residential School system without sweepingly vilifying any of the individual characters that come across the page. Violet is honest in her observation of this foreign world she is forced to inhabit—she feels safe with some of the caretakers, supervisors, teachers, and fellow students at the school, and afraid and leery of others, all while remaining aware of a constant ache and unsettledness in her spirit and body. So Slipperjack is able to unequivocally denounce the cruelty and injustice of Violet’s reality while still maintaining the nuanced humanity of the various characters with whom she interacts throughout the book, some of whom were well-intentioned and others who weren’t, yet all of whom still undeniably played a part in the tragedy of her circumstances.
Very grateful to have finally gotten around to this one! Highly recommended!