Irbinskas, Heather The Lost Kachina illustrated by Robert Albert (Hopi) Kiva, 2004 unpaginated, color illustrations grades 2-4 Irbinskas, Heather The Lost Kachina Coloring Book illustrated by Robert Albert (Hopi) Kiva, 2004 unpaginated, b/w illustrations grades 2-4

To the publishing industry, it seems, a story is a story unless it’s an Indian story, and then it’s a social studies textbook. I’m not sure what the point of The Lost Kachina is, but it seems to be a feeble attempt by a cultural outsider to “explain” Katsinam to a young white readership.

The story goes like this: A Hopi carver makes Angak’china, the Long-Haired Kachina. A white teacher purchases the “real Hopi Kachina doll” and brings him to school. Neither the children nor the teacher hear him talking. Angak’china is sad. This teacher retires, and a new teacher arrives. The new teacher is Hopi. He recognizes Angak’china. He takes the children “out into nature” and teaches them all about Kachinas. Angak’china is so happy, he makes it rain. The End.

In the classroom, “Angak’china’s spirit flows forward from his form,” trying to make himself heard so he can convince the non-Indian children that he’s real. This appears to be his only job. He talks to them, flies around, makes it rain:

Angak’china’s spirit stretched out large and wide till he became only colors of the rainbow sparkling through the room. Outside, storm clouds rolled across the sky as the Cloud People heard his call.

But “[w]ithout children who understood him, the spirit of Angak’china felt quite lost.” The unstated assumption is that unless non-Indian children understand and appreciate Katsinam, their “spirits” fly around, desperately seeking understanding.

Some other unstated assumptions: Angak’china isn’t worth very much, since the white teacher bought him on a whim and then left him behind. The Hopi teacher knows enough to teach the kids about Angak’china, but he doesn’t know enough to remove him from the classroom. It does not appear to be necessary for children to respect the belief systems or artifacts of cultures other than their own.

The title and the last lines are also troubling: “This time, as Angak’china sang to the wind, he knew the children heard. The Lost Kachina was home at last.” Is the author saying that Angak’china is “home” residing with a group of cultural outsiders? More “home” than he would be back at Hopi?

The topic of Katsinam—who they are, what they represent, what they do—is not something that can or should be taught to cultural outsiders in the space of a class period, even if it is taking place “out in nature.” Nor are Katsinam dolls or playthings. They are meant for teaching, but not like this. Nor is this an appropriate topic for a picture book—or a coloring book—for the trivial entertainment of non-Indian kids.

Whether or not Katsinam are alive is beside the point. There are some things that just need to be left alone.

Robert Albert’s amazingly detailed pictures of Angak’china are wasted on this poorly written, didactic example of what might be called “asinine cross-cultural multiculturalism.”

—Beverly Slapin