I was particularly moved by Long Soldier’s “Whereas” poem on page 75. To me, the poem brought up questions about cultural continuation and motherhood. In the first stanza she holds “the responsibility as mother to teach what it is to be Lakota,” At first, I read “as a mother” instead of “as mother” in the prose; the lack of an “a” suggests stepping into a larger, universally understood role of “mother,” and implies that motherhood might be viewed differently for Lakota people. She asks herself questions: “What did I know about being Lakota…What did I know of our language but pieces? Would I teach her to be pieces.” The period at the end of her second question stopped me in my tracks, despite there being no line break. After two questions — ones ending in question marks — in a row, phrasing the last question as a statement made it feel more weighty, more permanent. Her daughter would be pieces — it was not a question to Long Soldier. She ends the poem, after mentioning the national apology, which concerns “us, my family,” saying “my hope: my daughter understands wholeness for what it is, not for what it’s not, all of it            the pieces.” The spacing between pieces and the rest of the sentences makes it feel, to me, like a weightier statement, something that holds more space (literally) in the poem. I’m left thinking about pieces and wholeness, unsure exactly how to feel or what to think about what “wholeness” means for native people whose culture has been degraded and dismissed.