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“Literary License” or “Mutated Plagiarism”?

Additional Comments about Ann Rinaldi’s My Heart is on the Ground

Without attribution or acknowledgment, Ann Rinaldi has lifted phrases, ideas, and entire passages from several books, and used them in My Heart Is On the Ground. (Scholastic, 1999). This may or may not be legal, but it is certainly not moral. We want people to be aware of what Ann Rinaldi has done.

The books include the following:

Francis La Flesche (Omaha), The Middle Five: Indian Schoolboys of the Omaha Tribe. ©1900 by Francis La Flesche. Lincoln: University of Nebraska (1978)

Luther Standing Bear (Lakota), My People the Sioux. ©1928 by Luther Standing Bear. Lincoln: University of Nebraska (1975)

Zitkala-Sa (Dakota), American Indian Stories. ©1921 by Gertrude Bonin. Lincoln: University of Nebraska (1985)

Here are three pairs of writing, two each of the same event. The first of each pair is an event taken from an Indian person’s published autobiography. The second part is a rewrite of that event, using the voice of a fictional protagonist, a 12-year-old Lakota child, and written by Ann Rinaldi, a non-Indian author.

Some questions to think about: How were the passages changed to fit into this fictional voice? What are the effects of these changes? How have the ethics, principles and behaviors of the original writers been changed in the rewritten passages? And finally, is this “literary license” or “mutated plagiarism”?

pair 1

“It did not occur to me at that time that I was going away to learn the ways of the white man. My idea was that I was leaving the reservation and going to stay away long enough to do some brave deed, and then come home again alive. If I could just do that, then I knew my father would be so proud of me.” (My People the Sioux, p. 128)

“Then he says I must study and work and obey, and do one act of bravery. Then come home and tell him about it. I must bring him honor with this act.” (My Heart Is On the Ground, p. 30)

pair 2

“The ‘Mericans are awfully fond of tea, and when they saw they’d have to pay the trader and the king, too, for their tea, they got mad; and one night, when everybody was asleep, they painted up like wild Indians, and they got into a boat and paddled out to the tea ship and climbed in. They hollered and yelled like everything, and scared everybody; then they spilted the tea into the ocean….Well…the old king sat still for a long time, then he said to his soldiers, you go and fight those ‘Mericans. And they did fight, and had the Rev’lution. That war lasted eight years, and the king’s soldiers got licked. Then the ‘Mericans made General George Washington their President because he couldn’t tell a lie.” (The Middle Five, pp. 51-52)

“Today is a holiday. The birthday of the white people’s great father, George Wash-ing-ton. Gray Beard told us about the Boston tea party. The Mericans dressed like Indians and threw all the tea in the water. Then the English king got very angry and sat for a long time. Then he told his soldiers, go and fight those Mericans. Bring me their scalps. So his warriors went out and there was a rev-o-lu-tion. Wash-ing-ton was a great chief of the Mericans. The war lasted eight years and the soldiers of the king lost their scalps and the Mericans won and made Wash-ing-ton their great father because he could not tell a lie.” (My Heart Is On the Ground, p. 55)

pair 3

“With fire in my heart, I took the wooden tool that the paleface woman held out to me. I stood upon a step, and, grasping the handle with both hands, I bent in hot rage over the turnips. I worked my vengeance upon them! I saw that the turnips were in a pulp, and that further beating could not improve them; but the order was “Mash these turnips,’ and mash them I would! I renewed my energy; and as I sent the masher into the bottom of the jar, I felt a satisfying sensation that the weight of my body had gone into it. Just here a paleface woman came up to my table. As she looked into the jar, she shoved my hands roughly aside. I stood fearless and angry. She placed her red hands upon the rim of the jar. Then she gave one lift and stride away from the table. But lo! the pulpy contents fell through the crumbled bottom to the floor! She spared me no scolding phrases that I had earned. I did not heed them. I felt triumphant in my revenge, though deep within me I was a wee bit sorry to have broken the jar. As I sat eating my dinner, and saw that no turnips were served, I whooped in my heart for having once asserted the rebellion within me.” (American Indian Stories, pp. 60-61)

“Today, I was so angry I drove my wooden spoon through the bottom of a jar of turnips. At our table we had no turnips for supper. Everyone likes turnips. I feel bad that I did this thing.” (My Heart Is On the Ground, p. 88)

–Beverly Slapin