Winner of the Norma Fleck Award for Canadian Children’s Non-Fiction From the mid-1800s to the late 1990s, the education of Indigenous children was taken on by various churches in government-sponsored residential schools. More than 150,000 children were forcibly taken from their families in order to erase their traditional languages and cultures. As Long as the Rivers Flow is the story of Larry Loyie’s last traditional summer before entering residential school. It is a time of adventure and learning from his Elders. He cares for an abandoned baby owl, watches his kokom (grandmother) make winter moccasins, and helps his family prepare for summer camp, where he will pick berries, fish and swim. While searching for medicine plants in the bush with Kokom, he encounters a giant grizzly bear. Gently but truthfully written, the book captivates its readers and reveals a hidden history. Correlates to the Common Core State Standards in English Language Arts: CCSS.ELA-LITERACY.RL.3.7 Explain how specific aspects of a text's illustrations contribute to what is conveyed by the words in a story (e.g., create mood, emphasize aspects of a character or setting) CCSS.ELA-LITERACY.RL.4.3 Describe in depth a character, setting, or event in a story or drama, drawing on specific details in the text (e.g., a character's thoughts, words, or actions). CCSS.ELA-LITERACY.RL.5.5 Explain how a series of chapters, scenes, or stanzas fits together to provide the overall structure of a particular story, drama, or poem.

Available again, six tales of Kingdom County, Vermont

Where the River Flows is an honest, poetic, heartbreaking account of how my divorce catapulted me down a yearlong obsession to find the answer to the burning question I had every single day after my husband asked me for a divorce:"Why?"Was it my inability to show him love like he'd told me? Was it an old attachment wound, still unhealed and bubbling at the surface? Was it the sexual trauma I'd never resolved and carried into our marriage? Was it my very real and frequent urge to end my life? Or was it him? Was it his lack of understanding for my mental illness? His lost patience for me as I tirelessly worked through old wounds in therapy? Stress from the yearlong motorcycle trip of his dreams that I vowed to go on, and did just after our wedding day?As I spiraled myself around this question and fell deeper and deeper into a depression, as the binges became more intense and the purges returned for the first time in years, as the urges to die grew stronger and when I curled myself in a ball on the shower floor, banging my fists against my belly like I'd first done seventeen years before, I started to believe that what my husband said to me in our last few days together might be true: "It's like there are three people in our marriage. You, me, and your Eating Disorder. And sometimes I think you love her more than me."If you or someone you know has struggled with an Eating Disorder, sexual or developmental trauma, depression, anxiety, suicidal thinking, divorce, grief, then it is my hope you will find yourself and your loved ones in the pages of this memoir.You are not alone.

The first treaty that was made was between the earth and the sky. It was an agreement to work together. We build all of our treaties on that original treaty. On the banks of the river that have been Mishomis’s home his whole life, he teaches his granddaughter to listen—to hear both the sounds and the silences, and so to learn her place in Creation. Most importantly, he teaches her about treaties—the bonds of reciprocity and renewal that endure for as long as the sun shines, the grass grows, and the rivers flow. Accompanied by beautiful illustrations by Luke Swinson and an author’s note at the end, Aimée Craft affirms the importance of understanding an Indigenous perspective on treaties in this evocative book that is essential for readers of all ages.

This newly revised edition contains the most up to date versions of poems from David's first five volumes of poetry: Songs for Coming Home, Where Many Rivers Meet, Fire in the Earth, The House of Belonging and Everything is Waiting for You, as well as the latest versions of the new poems that originally appeared in the first edition of River Flow.

"McGhee writes confidently as one who remembers the ordinariness of adolescence as well as its angst . . . and compellingly creates a protagonist blindsided by loss." — Publishers Weekly (starred review) For seventeen-year-old Rose, it keeps happening — the car crash. The car crash that put her sister, Ivy, in a coma with only a respirator keeping her alive. While Rose tries to find support from her reticent mother, distraction from the series of boys she meets at the town’s gorge at night, and empathy from her neighbor William T., what she really needs must come from within herself — a release of what’s been welling up inside. Heartrending, honest, and ultimately hopeful, this is the tale of a teenager overwhelmed by trauma and loss, yet steadied by loyal friendship and the solace of first love.

In the continental United States, rivers serve to connect state to state, interior with exterior, the past to the present, but they also divide places and peoples from one another. These connections and divisions have given rise to a diverse body of literature that explores American nature, ranging from travel accounts of seventeenth-century Puritan colonists to magazine articles by twenty-first-century enthusiasts of extreme sports. Using pivotal American writings to determine both what literature can tell us about rivers and, conversely, how rivers help us think about the nature of literature, The Meaning of Rivers introduces readers to the rich world of flowing water and some of the different ways in which American writers have used rivers to understand the world through which these waters flow. Embracing a hybrid, essayistic form—part literary theory, part cultural history, and part fieldwork—The Meaning of Rivers connects the humanities to other disciplines and scholarly work to the land. Whether developing a theory of palindromes or reading works of American literature as varied as Henry David Thoreau's A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers and James Dickey’s Deliverance, McMillin urges readers toward a transcendental retracing of their own interpretive encounters. The nature of texts and the nature of “nature” require diverse and versatile interpretation; interpretation requires not only depth and concentration but also imaginative thinking, broad-mindedness, and engaged connection-making. By taking us upstream as well as down, McMillin draws attention to the potential of rivers for improving our sense of place and time.