Our collection of picture books featuring Black and Indigenous people and People of Color (BIPOC) is available to the public. *Inclusion of a title in the collection DOES NOT EQUAL a recommendation.* Click here for more on book evaluation.
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Inspired by the many Indigenous-led movements across North America, We Are Water Protectors issues an urgent rallying cry to safeguard the Earth's water from harm and corruption -- a bold and lyrical picture book written by Carole Lindstrom and vibrantly illustrated by Michaela Goade. Water is the first medicine. It affects and connects us all. When a black snake threatens to destroy the Earth and poison her people's water, one young water protector takes a stand to defend Earth's most sacred resource. - Publisher
When Marta ruins her homework and breaks her glasses, Grandmother soothes her with an ancient story and one of her delicious tortillas.
Jorgito lives in San Francisco's Mission District, but has not forgotten his native El Salvador. His memories of the volcanoes, his grandmother's stories, and the cornmeal "pupusas" form a patchwork of dreams that becomes a movie in his pillow.
Peyton loves to dance, and especially at pow wow, but her Auntie notices that she's been dancing less and less. When Peyton shares that she just can't be comfortable wearing a dress anymore, Auntie Eyota asks some friends for help to get Peyton what she needs. |cPage 4 of cover
When Uncle and Windy Girl attend a powwow, Windy watches the dancers and listens to the singers. She eats tasty food and joins family and friends around the campfire. Later, Windy falls asleep under the stars. Uncle's stories inspire visions in her head: a bowwow powwow, where all the dancers are dogs. In these magical scenes, Windy sees veterans in a Grand Entry, and a visiting drum group, and traditional dancers, grass dancers, and jingle-dress dancers -- all with telltale ears and paws and tails. All celebrating in song and dance. All attesting to the wonder of the powwow.--Provided by publisher
Undocumented is the story of immigrant workers who have come to the United States without papers. Every day, these men and women join the work force and contribute positively to society. The story is told via the ancient Mixtec codex--accordion fold--format. Juan grew up in Mexico working in the fields to help provide for his family. Struggling for money, Juan crosses over into the United States and becomes an undocumented worker, living in a poor neighborhood, working hard to survive. Though he is able to get a job as a busboy at a restaurant, he is severely undercompensated--he receives less than half of the minimum wage! Risking his boss reporting him to the authorities for not having proper resident papers, Juan risks everything and stands up for himself and the rest of the community.--Amazon.com
A young girl enjoys the similarities and the differences between her English-speaking and Spanish-speaking grandparents
When eight-year-old Kiki travels to Taos Pueblo, the reservation where her parents grew up, she confronts her identity as both a Tiwa Indian and a big city girl.
Tink, tink, tink, tink, sang cone-shaped jingles sewn to Grandma Wolfe's dress. Jenna's heart beats to the brum, brum, brum, brum of the powwow drum as she daydreams about the clinking song of her grandma's jingle dancing. Jenna loves the tradition of jingle dancing that has been shared by generations of women in her family, and she hopes to dance at the next powwow. But she has a problem--how will her dress sing if it has no jingles?
"I like to eat, eat, eat," choruses young Johnny as he watches Grandma at work in the kitchen. Wild rice, fried potatoes, fruit salad, frosted sweet rolls--what a feast! Johnny can hardly contain his excitement. In no time, he'll be digging in with everyone else, filling his belly with all this good food. But wait. First there is the long drive to the community center. And then an even longer Ojibwe prayer. And then--well, young boys know to follow the rules: elders eat first, no matter how hungry the youngsters are. Johnny lingers with Grandma, worried that the tasty treats won't last. Seats at the tables fill and refill; platters are emptied and then replaced. Will it ever be their turn? And will there be enough?