I always go into Dear Americas about Native American interactions a little nervously because it seems to be a hit-and-miss chapter in American History for this series, sometimes doing it justice, and sometimes just being pretty epically disrespectful. This one was pleasantly surprising in how it honored the immensely emotional and difficult situation that it strives to interpret. What I really, deeply appreciated about this book was how elegantly and easily it brought the reader into an exercise of empathy. I'm not a Quaker, nor am I Christian, and the first fifth of the book was building empathy and understanding for Caty, our protagonist's life in a Quaker community in 1763, exploring the similarities (like first crushes and fear of long division) and the differences alike. After she is kidnapped by a nearby group of Lenape, you witness Caty's terror and anger - to such a degree she disregards everything she was taught to believe in her religious community - and the moment of growth and journey of empathy she then goes on after being reunited with her brother. As her empathy grows for her new community - whether you choose to see them as captors or an adoptive family - so does the reader's, and by the end of the book you feel as devastated, unmoored and lonely as she does, and are proud to see her family begin their journey to empathy. The ending doesn't shy away from the brutality of the treatment of most of the Native American tribes throughout American history, and it's heartbreaking. I cannot speak to the accuracy of the portrayal of the Lenape, as I'm woefully uneducated on that group, but it felt like their culture was written with respect, building bridges from one culture to another and giving space and grace for all the complicated emotions that come from this moment in history. I'll be chewing on this one for a while yet, I think.