When Napoleon IIIs French Army invades Mexico in 1862, so are the protagonists forced to protect and nourish themselves, excavate their true identity, and marry the paradoxical truths of past and present, masculine and feminine, lightness and darkness. Viola, a young mestizo woman, enslaved at the Hacienda Manzanilla is stifled by the oppression that envelops her in an economically and spiritually depleted Mexico post War of the Reform. A grief stricken and anxious Viola is fostered by the ancient wisdom of her grandfather, a Mayan elder who lives in a nearby indigenous village. Out of rhythm with society and her peers, Viola spends much of her time deep in contemplation either in nature or encapsulated in a world she must keep secrether world of literacy. Viola has been taught to read at a time when education is prohibited for a woman of her social orientation. When Viola meets Octavio, the son of a decorated, deceased war hero who is bequeathed the duty of a Zapotec warrior, her fortified existence is disrupted. Their divergent ideals mingle as tension and conflict from the imminent Battle of Puebla spirals around them. They are thrust into a multidimensional journey of discovery, forgiveness, healing, love, and transformation. Indigena is a timeless story of adversity and triumph, war and peace. Grounded in factual detail and effervescent with metaphor, this story of Cinco de Mayo fuses real life historical figures with palpable fictional characters to recount the Mexican peoples rise from the ashes of oppression.

Now in paperback: a gripping, witty travel memoir that offers "a fascinating look at voluntourism from an Indigenous perspective" (Book Riot) "Ursula Pike's memoir is unlike any other I've read, with her perceptive, always-seeking, and lovely narrative voice." --Susan Straight, author of Mecca "This book is alive with a spirit that welcomed mine to meet it." --Elissa Washuta, author of White Magic When she was twenty-five, Ursula Pike boarded a plane to Bolivia and began her term of service in the Peace Corps. A member of the Karuk Tribe, Pike sought to make meaningful connections with Indigenous people halfway around the world. But she arrived in La Paz with trepidation as well as excitement, "knowing I followed in the footsteps of Western colonizers and missionaries who had also claimed they were there to help." In the following two years, as a series of dramatic episodes brought that tension to a boiling point, she began to ask: What does it mean to have experienced the effects of colonialism firsthand, and yet to risk becoming a colonizing force in turn? An Indian Among los Indígenas, Pike's memoir of this experience, upends a canon of travel memoirs that has historically been dominated by white writers. It is a sharp, honest, and unnerving examination of the shadows that colonial history casts over even the most well-intentioned attempts at cross-cultural aid. With masterful deadpan wit, it signals a shift in travel writing that is long overdue.

Acts of remembering offer a path to decolonization for Indigenous peoples forcibly dislocated from their culture, knowledge, and land. Susy J. Zepeda highlights the often overlooked yet intertwined legacies of Chicana feminisms and queer decolonial theory through the work of select queer Indígena cultural producers and thinkers. By tracing the ancestries and silences of gender-nonconforming people of color, she addresses colonial forms of epistemic violence and methods of transformation, in particular spirit research. Zepeda also uses archival materials, raised ceremonial altars, and analysis of decolonial artwork in conjunction with oral histories to explore the matriarchal roots of Chicana/x and Latina/x feminisms. As she shows, these feminisms are forms of knowledge that people can remember through Indigenous-centered visual narratives, cultural wisdom, and spirit practices. A fascinating exploration of hidden Indígena histories and silences, Queering Mesoamerican Diasporas blends scholarship with spirit practices to reimagine the root work, dis/connection to land, and the political decolonization of Xicana/x peoples.

NDN word warrior Marie Annharte Baker's fourth book of poems, Indigena Awry, is her largest and wildest yet. It collects a decade's worth of verse — fifty-nine poems. Set noticeably in Winnipeg and Vancouver, but in many other places on either side of the Medicine Line as well, the poems are a laser-eyed meander through contested streets filled with racism, classism, and sexism. Shot through with sex and violence and struggle and sadness and trauma, her work is always set to detect and confront the delusions of colonialism and its discontents. These poems are informed by a sceptical spirituality. They call for justice for NDNs through the Permanent Resistance that goes around in cities. This is bruising and exacting stuff, but Annharte is also one of poetry's best jokers. In Indigena Awry, you can find fictitious girl gangs coexisting with real boy ones. NDN grannies may be found flirting salaciously in some internet chat room. One might use duct tape to prevent a war. You might be worried that hand-signalling for a Timbit on an airplane flight will be considered a terrorist act. Annharte may be seam-walking a singular path but she is not without allies. In the United States, they could include Leslie Marmon Silko and Chrystos. In Canada, Beth Brant and Gerry Gilbert. The jazz inflections of Beat writing are often apparent in her work. She swings from a poetic madness into a mad poetics. Way under it all, acting as a deep sort of platform, could be considered the Kenyan writer Ngugi wa Thiong'o's project of decolonizing one's mind. Both sketch out an argument that we will not see, feel, or respond correctly in or to our own lives without doing this, because otherwise we will be living within a philosophical myopia generated by a bad fiction. While Indigena Awry is written for NDN persons, it is highly recommended for truth-seekers of every nature and anarchs of word and spirit. In an Annharte poem you might lose your way only to find what's important.