3 Books to Read for Native American Heritage Month

Written on 11/13/2026
Lorilee Craker

The Barren Grounds (The Misewa Saga, Book 1)

By David A. Robertson

When I visited my hometown of Winnipeg, Man., this summer, I visited my favorite indie bookstore there—McNally Robertson—and was delighted to see three full bookshelves devoted to Indigenous books. Overwhelmed by the choices, I asked the young bookseller for his recommendations for an Indigenous book I could share with Banner readers for Native American Heritage Month. I told him the magazine was faith-based and that our denomination has a wealth of Indigenous members. He enthusiastically and respectfully plunged into this assignment and recommended several books, including The Barren Grounds, Book 1 of the Misewa Saga series for middle-grade readers. “People love these books,” he said. “They fly off the shelves.”

Of course, that sealed the deal, and I tucked the book in my tote bag, looking forward to reading it for this annual roundup of books to read for NAHM.

Inspired by The Chronicles of Narnia, the Misewa series is basically fantasy, which is not my favorite genre. Yet David A. Robertson, a Swampy Cree author from Winnipeg, grounds the fantasy in the real lives of Morgan, 13, and Eli, 12, two Indigenous middle graders who have landed in the same foster home in Winnipeg. Their white foster parents are eager to love them, but the two youths bear wounds from being taken from their families and communities. Morgan can hardly remember life before foster care, though she begins to remember her last moments with her birth mother in dreams and snatches of a foreign language that swirl in her memory. Eli, quiet and less belligerent, grew up in his Indigenous culture, and this is his first foster home. At school, the children are basically ignored and isolated, so they must turn to each other for solace and understanding.

Though Morgan recalls other neglectful, hurtful foster homes, the one she and Eli are in is depicted positively. Yes, the young foster parents try too hard and are painfully awkward at times in their attempts to bond with the children, but their hearts are in the right place. In one scene, the foster mom brings home takeout one night from an Indigenous restaurant downtown (which I’ve been to!), and the family dines on bison chili and bannock.

By the time Morgan and Eli are transported via a portal to another reality, they have decided that, though they deeply miss their families, they actually like their foster parents, a first for Morgan.

In Aski, the magical, freezing cold world they stumble upon, they meet Ochek (Fisher), a fisher with two legs who is the last hunter, desperately trying to feed his community, Misewa, and Arik (Squirrel), a snarky, two-legged squirrel. Ochek and Arik welcome the children, and together, the foursome face many dangers (including a terrifying ice bridge and a fearsome wolf) as they try to save Misewa from starvation.

Readers will learn about Cree teachings, legends, and traditional survival skills as the book explores themes such as foster care, identity, and colonization. At one point, Ochek leads the group in a prayer of thanksgiving to Creator, and creation care underpins the entire narrative.

Adults can read and enjoy these books along with their middle graders, discussing these important themes and its compelling characters. The Barren Grounds is the first of six books in the series, which have won numerous awards and have been optioned for development by a subsidiary of Disney. Even though fantasy is not usually my thing, I’m hooked on this series. (Tundra)

The Berry Pickers

By Amanda Peters

In the early 1960s, a Mi’kmaq family from Nova Scotia is in Maine for their annual summer berry picking when their 4-year-old daughter vanishes without a trace. Normally, I would stop right there and not read the book because I find it difficult to read about any kind of violence toward children. But that’s not where The Berry Pickers goes, as the reader soon discerns.

Instead, the mystery of Ruthie’s disappearance haunts her family for 50 years, especially her brother Joe who, at 6 years old when she disappeared, is burdened with paralyzing guilt because he had been the last one to see her. As we follow Joe’s life through the years, we also follow the life of Norma, the only child of a judge and his deeply anxious wife. How are their lives intertwined? It doesn’t take long to figure out, but the reader does want to know how the characters will find one another again.

This is a novel about the damaging effect of secrets and the lingering presence of trauma throughout one’s whole life. It’s also a valuable peek into the lives of Indigenous peoples and how much has been stolen from them. A stirring portrait of forgiveness and identity, The Berry Pickers is riveting and insightful. Some strong language. (Catapult)

Call Me Indian: From the Trauma of Residential School to Becoming the NHL's First Treaty Indigenous Player

By Fred Sasakamoose

Last November, I was enthralled with Call Me Indian by Fred Sasakamoose, the first First Nations NHL player. This 2022 memoir taught me well about Native history, culture, joy, and sorrow. Fred's book also reignited my love for hockey (not that I ever didn't love hockey). But more than that, it revealed the radiant and resilient soul of a man whose life and faith passed through the fiery furnace and emerged as silver.

I found the sections about Sasakamoose’s time in the residential schools harrowing, but I was deeply moved by his determination to rise above and give back to his home community. He overcame huge obstacles to win a spot as one of 120 players (then) in the NHL, the most elite hockey league in the world. After playing 12 games, Sasakamoose returned to Saskatchewan and found a way to stay connected to hockey and reclaim his pride in the heritage that had been stolen from him.

From Agnes Mastin’s Banner review: “Spending long hours on the ice, Sasakamoose became a hero promoting hockey to young Indigenous boys, urging them to choose a better way. He was twice made honorary chief and once the real chief of what was then Sandy Lake, and then again as a councilor for his home reserve. He did many great things, but the thing that spoke most to this fan is that he opened his cabin to people who needed a place to stay during the opioid crisis; he left his fishing gear and chainsaw accessible for whoever needed to catch a fish and start a fire.”

What an inspiring man, and what a thumping good read for the hockey fan in your life (which might be you). (Penguin Random House Canada)