Sometimes Mama meets me at the bus stop after school. Mama had to work today, so I got to see Kokum first. Yay!

  “Aaniin, Jo Jo! How was your day?” Kokum asked.

  I counted on my fingers. “Well, Ferris ate my squares into circles. Brie did not like when I said she cuts the cheese.”

  My grandma squinted at me. That means she is listening very hard.

  “I helped make Brie’s square food into circles.” I looked at Kokum. “Because, you know.”

  “Right, square foods,” she said.

  We held hands and hop-skipped to our house. Well, I hop-skipped. Kokum kept her feet close to the ground.

  Last month at the powwow, Kokum danced in the Golden Age group with her friend Denise. They danced the traditional shawl. I asked Mama why the Elders keep their feet close to the ground when they dance.

  “Well, my girl, the Elders who dance the traditional shawl are protecting the Earth, and their steps show the land, and us, how to do this. Their feet stay close to our Earth.”

  Kokum’s feet must whisper to the land in our language.

  We walked into the house, and Mimi was lying by the window. She likes the sun.

  “Hard life, Mimi, right?” Kokum said.

  Well, life is only hard if you don’t use pillows.

  “Kokum, I almost forgot! We had a substitute teacher today and she wants to be pen pals with Mama! Look!” I said.

  Kokum stared at me for a few eye blinks. “Oh, what does it say?”

  “Kokum, it is sealed. With spit. Teacher spit. That means it is special,” I said.

  “Okay, why don’t you let me see it?” she asked.

  “Kokum, isn’t it the law to not read someone’s mail?” I tilted my head because I was being helpful.

  “Oh, my girl, that’s more of a general rule—”

  “Kokum, you and Mama said we have to follow the rules.” She must have forgotten.

  “Well, you’re right. Put it on the counter with the rest of the mail,” Kokum said. “I have a feeling this is not a fan letter.”

  Sometimes Kokum’s way of thinking makes me wonder about her. How can a letter be a fan? Does it blow a lot of air?

  Mimi and I played Tribal Chair before supper. I am the chair and Mimi sits on me meowing. We are in the same tribe. At least, Mimi hasn’t said she isn’t Ojibwe.

  Yay, Ojibwe!

  Mama called us to dinner. I carried Mimi with me to the kitchen.

  I looked at the table. I looked at the food.

  “Mimi,” I whispered. “It’s tuna loaf.” I made a nose scrunch again.

  Meeoww. Meeeeoooww.

  Mimi told me in cat talk, Ick, will not lick.

  Kokum thanked Creator for the food. (I am not very grateful for tuna fish, but it is good to have food.)

  We talked about our day. Mama brought our car in for a tune-up after work. Kokum watched her game shows and did the ironing.

  “Jo Jo, how was your day at school? What did you learn?” Mama asked.

  “Well, I learned that school rules sometimes don’t make sense to me,” I said. “And I am helping the class pick talents!”

  Both Mama and Kokum nodded.

  “And the teacher, who is not Teacher, sent me to the coat cubbies. To think.”

  Mama and Kokum looked at each other.

  I said, “Oh, and this substitute teacher wrote you a letter, Mama!”

  She looked at the letters on the counter.

  Mama said, “Looks like I should start a box for your teacher fan mail.”

  I looked at the tuna loaf on the table again. It sort of looked like the mess on the coat cubbies wall.

  “Mama, what are boogers made of?” I asked, staring at the table.

  She and my kokum stared at each other. And looked at the tuna loaf.

  For some reason, Mama and Kokum didn’t eat much at dinner.

  Not So Silent

  The next day Mama and Kokum walked me to the bus stop. We all walked together and held hands. Brown hands.

  We were an Ojibwe family braid.

  “Give me a kiss, my girl,” Kokum said. I gave her my biggest flutter kiss.

  A flutter kiss is when you use your eyelashes to hug someone’s cheek.

  After I got off the bus, I walked to meet my school best friend, Fern, at our drinking fountain. This is my happy place!

  I hope you have a happy place, too!

  Whew! Teacher is back at our classroom door.

  “Aaniin, children. How are you?” Teacher asked as we all walked past him.

  Fern just smiled. But I had something to say.

  “Well,” I said. “I am fine, but you really should let us know when you will be gone.”

  Teacher just stared at me. For a while.

  Yay, he agrees with me! Remember, when people stare at you, they agree.

  Yes, grown-ups need to tell us their plans, right?

  We had our morning circle meeting. Then Teacher said we would work on our language arts.

  Teacher doesn’t always use our Ojibwe language during language arts.

  He does not have a knack for Ojibwe. That is wrong.

  “All right, children, today we will review our vowels and how we use them. And we will talk about silent letters!” Teacher said. With many enthusiasms.

  Joe made a snoring noise. Well, he was sleeping, so it was a real snore. Not a substitute. And not silent.

  “Students, remember our vowel letters? Who can say them?”

  Susan answered, “A, E, I, O, U.”

  Teacher clapped. “Yes! And sometimes . . . ?”

  Up-Chuck looked around the room and said, “And sometimes . . . I wonder why?”

  Teacher smiled a very big teeth smile. “Oh, yes, Chuck! And sometimes Y.”

  I looked at the class. They looked at me. We all looked at Teacher.

  “Why?” I said.

  Teacher clapped again. “Jo Jo, yes! Y.”

  Makwa asked, “Why what?”

  The class started asking this over and over.

  Teacher drew on the board.

  A E I O U and sometimes Y.

  “Why didn’t he just say Y in the first place?” Up-Chuck whispered.

  “Can you please speak up, Chuck?” Teacher asked.

  Teacher looked at me. He does not like when I call Up-Chuck Up-Chuck. But that is his name! You know, after the kindergarten upchucking.

  On the playground, we all talked about the Tribal Talent Show. Everyone had very good ideas!

  But Brie and Up-Chuck did not tell us what they will do for the show.

  “It’s a secret, Jo Jo. I don’t have to tell you,” Brie said.

  I made tiny circle eyes at them. That means you do not like something.

  After recess we came back to our class.

  Teacher walked around the room. And did a very big breath. He must have been tired.

  “All right, students, we’ll continue with language arts. Who knows about silent letters?”

  I looked up to the ceiling. That is where you find many good ideas.

  “I do not know about silent letters, but I know I like it when some people are silent,” I said, looking at Brie.

  Brie waved her hand. “Teacher, Jo Jo is telling me to be quiet again!”

  Teacher rolled his eyes. Rolling your eyes means people agree with you.

  “A silent letter is when it is in the word but we don’t say it,” Teacher said.

  Susan said, “But if the letter is quiet, why is it there?”

  “Well, it’s like the word comb, but we don’t pronounce the b,” Teacher said, and wrote more words on the board.

  comb lamb plumber

  Ferris asked, “But how do you know there should be a b in there?”

  Susan nodded and agreed.

  Fern nodded and agreed.

  Even Brie nodded! (But I wish her B would be silent.)

  Teacher stared at us.

  I tilted my head, to be helpful. “How do you know the b is silent?”

  “Well . . . ,” Teacher said. But I do not think he knows.

  “Did the b tell you it is silent? Because then it is not a silent letter!” I said with my head still tilted. I am very good at helping.

  The class clapped. They agree!

  Maybe I should help Teacher teach more.

  Right before bedtime I snuggled with Mimi.

  “Mimi, the Tribal Talent Show is coming soon! I am so excited.”

  Meow. Meeoow.

  “Yes, I can’t wait to show everyone my talent,” I said, and finished coloring my talent things.

  Mimi stared at me. She agrees! I have very good talent.

  Talent Show

  The next week Mama drove us to the Elders’ Tribal Center.

  There was a very big sign over the front door.

  OJIBWE GOT TALENT!

  BIINDIGEN!

  So many people from our reservation were there!

  “It is good to be in community, right, Kokum?” I asked.

  “Eya, my girl. It is the best thing,” Kokum said.

  Kokum stopped and looked at me. “Jo Jo, remember to clap for everyone,” she said, giving me a head nod.

  I think that means there is a rule to clap. But what if they do not have a knack?

  We saw Fern and her auntie inside.

  “Aaniin, Fern!” I said with a big best-friend smile.

  We walked to the Big Drum room. It has so many seats! My family sat next to Fern’s family. Fern and I held hands.

  Mr. LaBelle stood up on the stage in the front. “Aaniin, everyone! Welcome to our first-ever Tribal Talent Show. We say chi miigwech to our Elders for letting us be together.”

  Clap clap clap.

  “And now, let’s watch how we Ojibwe Got Talent!” Mr. LaBelle said.

  First Susan and her sister danced a fancy shawl dance.

  Wow! They were very good! They looked like butterflies dancing.

  Next the Elders sang a song in Ojibwe about our reservation, “Pembina Zaagi.”

  Oh! They were very good, too!

  After the Elders, Up-Chuck did his talent.

  “Aaniin, everyone! Here is my alpha-burp,” he said.

  He burped very loud and very long! He burped and said the whole alphabet! At the same time! He has a knack.

  Five more people got up and did a talent.

  Then Brie was onstage.

  I made a nose scrunch. Hmm. I thought Brie did not have a knack at all.

  Brie sat at the piano and played a song. Mama smiled at her. Kokum smiled. Even Fern’s auntie smiled.

  I said very softly, “Boo—”

  Fern shook her head at me and whispered, “No, Jo Jo!”

  So I finished. I said again very softly, “Boo—zhoo.” And did one tiny clap.

  I guess a rule is to clap even if there is no talent.

  I know I would be very good at playing the piano. If I had a piano.

  “And now, for our last talent act, Jo Jo Azure!” Mr. LaBelle said.

  At last it was my turn! Fern squeezed my hand. Mama and Kokum clapped with very many enthusiasms.

  I carried my posters to the stage.

  “Boozhoo! My name is Jo Jo Makoons. I will sing my song for you!”

  I looked around at everyone. My tummy felt flippy and floppy. But I saw Fern looking at me, and my tummy felt better.

  I started to sing and held up my posters. (Teacher always says when I sing it is like a fire alarm. That means people pay attention to me!)

  “Rules. What are they? What do they really mean? Oh, I will tell you!”

  RULES

  R is for: Are you sure this is a rule?

  U is for: You cannot make up rules (I just made that up).

  L is for: Lunch should never be tuna sandwiches.

  E is for: Every tree needs an Ojibwe hug.

  S is for: Square food is against the law.

  I sang my very hardest. Everyone had big surprise eyes when I was done. That means they didn’t know I had very big talent!

  Singing is very classy! And I am very good at it. I have a knack for singing the rules.

  At the end of the show, we all voted for the talent-est talent.

  Mr. LaBelle got back onstage after he counted the votes and said, “Well, miigwech, everyone, for sharing your talents with our community! And now, for the winner of our talent show . . .”

  I held Fern’s hand. I hope, I hope I win!

  “The most votes and the golden moccasin trophy go to . . . the Elders singing ‘Pembina Zaagi’!”

  We all clapped very long!

  Clap clap clap!

  Yay! I am sad I didn’t win, but it is true. Our Elders Got Ojibwe Talent!

  Substitutes

  That night Mama tucked me and Mimi in bed. We talked about all of our Ojibwe talents. We are so special.

  Mimi agrees. She is very good at sleeping. Mimi used my head as a pillow. I am so very soft. And have fluffy hair.

  “I almost forgot! Mama, what was in that letter the substitute teacher wrote?” I asked.

  “Oh, just telling me about your day . . . and the coat cubbies,” Mama said.

  I looked at Mimi. Then I looked at Mama.

  “Oh, so she doesn’t want to be pen pals with you?” I gave her a big flutter kiss with my eyelashes. I think her cheek needed a hug.

  “My girl, you have such a big heart. I love you. Good night,” Mama said, and kissed my nose.

  I lip-pointed to Mimi.

  “Oh, and I love you, too, Mimi,” Mama said.

  Meeeoooow.

  The next day at school Teacher stood by our classroom door. We told him all about the talent show!

  “Oh, how wonderful, children! I’m sad I had to miss it.”

  Then he said we needed to have a class meeting.

  A class meeting, what fun! I am very classy and will have a lot to say.

  “Children, I had a phone call from Ms. Inez, the substitute teacher,” Teacher said.

  My, that lady really wants to make friends. She calls. She writes letters.

  “And,” Teacher said, “she let me know that some students did not follow the rules.”

  Why did he look at me? Hmm.

  Ferris said, “Well, Teacher, we didn’t understand her rules.”

  “Yeah!” said Up-Chuck. “Like she made Jo Jo go to the coat cubbies corner.”

  Very quietly Fern said, “And that is not how we stay in community.”

  Teacher looked at us for a long time. (He does this a lot. Maybe he needs glasses.)

  Joe and Susan whispered to each other.

  “Susan and Joe, please be quiet during our class meeting,” Teacher said.

  “But we were just saying that we don’t want a substitute anymore,” Joe said louder.

  “Yes, we want you, Teacher,” Susan said.

  Teacher stared at us again. But his eyes got very watery. Must be lalergies.

  “Well, I . . . I . . . think we should go out for an extra recess right now,” Teacher said, and dabbed his eyes.

  We all clapped! Yay, recess!

  At recess we played Frybread Ahead. It is such a fun game!

  Someone closes their eyes and holds hands with a partner. Then the partner walks them around the playground, yelling, “Frybread Ahead!” That means to step over something.

  Back in the classroom, Teacher said, “Oh, students, I forgot something else that is very important for our class meeting.”

  What is with this class meeting thing? It was not as fun and classy as I thought.

  “I really am sad that someone is dirtying our wall by the coat cubbies,” he said.

  I raised my hand.

  “Teacher, I saw that, too! In my time in the coat cubbies,” I said with many enthusiasms. “Boogers. Wiped. On. The. Wall.”

  Joe said, “Oh, well . . .”

  Joe looked down at his shoes.

  “Joe, do you have something to say about this?” Teacher asked.

  Joe did a very big breath. “Well, you know the lunchroom rules, about not wasting food?”

  Brie said, “Yes, it is a good rule. We should not waste food.”

  We all looked at Joe.

  “I know. I didn’t want to waste food. So when I ate my banana, I saved the banana strings. Because. Because they are icky,” Joe said.

  My eyes got very big! “Yes, Joe, banana strings do not taste good. They look like little string worms.”

  The class nodded.

  Joe said, “So I saved the strings in my napkins, and put them on the wall in the coat cubbies. In case someone likes banana strings.”

  Teacher closed his eyes. Then he walked to the window and did a big puffy breath. Pppfffff.

  The class started to clap.

  “Joe is not wasting food!”

  “He is sharing!”

  “Good job, Joe!”

  “Joe has a knack for saving his snack!”

  Now I know everyone has talent. Even Brie. (But I have more.)

  And sometimes I still do not understand rules. They are not all good, and not all bad. But I know one rule is very good.

  My moushoom used to tell me our animals, land, and plants can only hear us when we speak our Ojibwe language. And we need to speak to them.

  Now each day when we come to class, we say to the dried banana strings, “Aaniin, wewaagijiizid.” Hello, banana.

  Jo Jo’s Glossary

  A glossary is a very fancy word for a small dictionary. It is where you can learn about new words and how to say them. These are some Ojibwe and Michif words from this story:

  aaniin (AH-neen): hello, greetings

  biindigen (BEEN-di-gen): come in

  biinitaw (been-i-TAW): clean it

  boozhoo (BOO-zhoo): hello, greetings

  chi miigwech (CHAY mee-GWECH): thank you very much

  eya (ee-YEH): yes

  gaawiin (gah-WEEN): no

  kokum (KUH-kum): Michif word for grandma

  makoons (ma-KOONS): little bear cub

  moushoom (MUH-shoom): Michif word for grandpa

  Ojibwe (oh-JIB-way): the name of my Native American Nation

  wewaagijiizid (way-wahg-i-GEE-zid): banana

  Author’s Note

 

1 2 3