Whiskey Tender: A Memoir
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- Author：Deborah Jackson Taffa
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Summary
Reminiscent of the works of Mary Karr and Terese Marie Mailhot， a memoir of family and survival， coming-of-age on and off the reservation， and of the frictions between mainstream American culture and Native inheritance; assimilation and reverence for tradition。
Deborah Jackson Taffa was raised to believe that some sacrifices were necessary to achieve a better life。 Her grandparents—citizens of the Quechan Nation and Laguna Pueblo tribe—were sent to Indian boarding schools run by white missionaries， while her parents were encouraged to take part in governmental job training off the reservation。 Assimilation meant relocation， but as Taffa matured into adulthood， she began to question the promise handed down by her elders and by American that if she gave up her culture， her land， and her traditions， she would not only be accepted， but would be able to achieve the “American Dream。”
Whiskey Tender traces how a mixed tribe native girl—born on the California Yuma reservation and raised in Navajo territory in New Mexico—comes to her own interpretation of identity， despite her parent’s desires for her to transcend the class and “Indian” status of her birth through education， and despite the Quechan tribe’s particular traditions and beliefs regarding oral and recorded histories。 Taffa’s childhood memories unspool into meditations on tribal identity， the rampant criminalization of Native men， governmental assimilation policies， the Red Power movement， and the negotiation between belonging and resisting systemic oppression。 Pan-Indian， as well as specific tribal histories and myths， blend with stories of a 1970s and 1980s childhood spent on and off the reservation。
Taffa offers a sharp and thought-provoking historical analysis laced with humor and heart。 As she reflects on her past and present—the promise of assimilation and the many betrayals her family has suffered， both personal and historical; trauma passed down through generations—she reminds us of how the cultural narratives of her ancestors have been excluded from the central mythologies and structures of the “melting pot” of America， revealing all that is sacrificed for the promise of acceptance。
Deborah Jackson Taffa was raised to believe that some sacrifices were necessary to achieve a better life。 Her grandparents—citizens of the Quechan Nation and Laguna Pueblo tribe—were sent to Indian boarding schools run by white missionaries， while her parents were encouraged to take part in governmental job training off the reservation。 Assimilation meant relocation， but as Taffa matured into adulthood， she began to question the promise handed down by her elders and by American that if she gave up her culture， her land， and her traditions， she would not only be accepted， but would be able to achieve the “American Dream。”
Whiskey Tender traces how a mixed tribe native girl—born on the California Yuma reservation and raised in Navajo territory in New Mexico—comes to her own interpretation of identity， despite her parent’s desires for her to transcend the class and “Indian” status of her birth through education， and despite the Quechan tribe’s particular traditions and beliefs regarding oral and recorded histories。 Taffa’s childhood memories unspool into meditations on tribal identity， the rampant criminalization of Native men， governmental assimilation policies， the Red Power movement， and the negotiation between belonging and resisting systemic oppression。 Pan-Indian， as well as specific tribal histories and myths， blend with stories of a 1970s and 1980s childhood spent on and off the reservation。
Taffa offers a sharp and thought-provoking historical analysis laced with humor and heart。 As she reflects on her past and present—the promise of assimilation and the many betrayals her family has suffered， both personal and historical; trauma passed down through generations—she reminds us of how the cultural narratives of her ancestors have been excluded from the central mythologies and structures of the “melting pot” of America， revealing all that is sacrificed for the promise of acceptance。
Reviews
Lorin （paperbackbish）
，
Thank you Harper for my free ARC of Whiskey Tender by Deborah Jackson Taffa — available now！Read this if you:📝 are a fan of memoirs， especially ones that will teach you something🧡 love books with heart， struggle， history， tradition， and mental health rep🥣 have no idea what it's like to be mixed race， OR you have first-hand experience （so yeah， everyone）Deborah Jackson Taffa was born in the American Southwest， on the Yuma reservation where a large portion of her extended family resides。 Moving to Thank you Harper for my free ARC of Whiskey Tender by Deborah Jackson Taffa — available now！Read this if you:📝 are a fan of memoirs， especially ones that will teach you something🧡 love books with heart， struggle， history， tradition， and mental health rep🥣 have no idea what it's like to be mixed race， OR you have first-hand experience （so yeah， everyone）Deborah Jackson Taffa was born in the American Southwest， on the Yuma reservation where a large portion of her extended family resides。 Moving to Navajo territory in New Mexico at a young age， she struggled to fit in — neither the Navajos nor the whites were willing to accept her as one of their own。 Identity is a tough topic for most people， and Taffa recounts her experiences as a mixed-tribe girl trying to find her place in the world。This is a stunning memoir。 It's a combination of personal anecdotes， family stories， histories of multiple cultures， and musings on the future。 I couldn't put it down， and that's rare for me with non-fiction！ The flow throughout this book is seamless， and the combination of sources works perfectly。 Taffa's voice is engaging and her stories all tugged at my heartstrings。 On top of this， I learned a ton of new information about the Quechan Nation and Laguna Pueblo tribes， and added to my existing knowledge of Diné （Navajo） culture and traditions。 I highly， highly recommend this book to anyone and everyone。 It's beautiful！⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️💫 。。。more
Bookworm
，
I had never heard of the author， did not know a thing about her but saw this at the library and was intrigued by the title。 It is a memoir of a Native woman。 What really interested me was that it was a story of assimilation: I've read a bunch of memoirs and stories of immigrants coming from somewhere else （or nonwhite people born and raised in the US） attempting to assimilate but I'm not sure if I've read one from a Native perspective。For Taffa， this meant her grandparents were sent to residenti I had never heard of the author， did not know a thing about her but saw this at the library and was intrigued by the title。 It is a memoir of a Native woman。 What really interested me was that it was a story of assimilation: I've read a bunch of memoirs and stories of immigrants coming from somewhere else （or nonwhite people born and raised in the US） attempting to assimilate but I'm not sure if I've read one from a Native perspective。For Taffa， this meant her grandparents were sent to residential boarding schools， for her parents that meant taking jobs with the US government。 And throughout the book， we see Taffa negotiating her heritage， background and upbringing while contending with a world that does not see her for who she is （or if she exists at all）， as well as generational traumas and how assimilation does not work。 Much of it is sad， some of it funny， lots of insights to be had。But overall I thought this was quite dull。 I am unsure if it has to do with me not being very familiar with her work or her， but overall this was not particularly interesting to me。 Maybe it is because I've read a few notable memoirs in the past few months， maybe because I had just read another Native author， etc。， but this was hard to stick with。I do think， of course， it is certainly worth a read and perhaps I was not in the right frame or mind。 Or it was not the book for me。 Certainly one that might give you food for thought though， and I was fine with reading this into Women's History Month。Borrowed from the library and that was best for me。 。。。more
Shanereads
，
What a wonderful memoir！Whiskey Tender should take the place of readings such as The Absolutely True Diary of a Part- Time Indian。 I have some Native ancestors that I know next to nothing about。Reading Deborah's memoir on her journey to discover her cultural identity and roots was inspiring。 It is a shame that more Native history is not included in our school system with American history。 I am so thankful that I was able to get an early copy of this book and I can't wait to suggest it to other r What a wonderful memoir！Whiskey Tender should take the place of readings such as The Absolutely True Diary of a Part- Time Indian。 I have some Native ancestors that I know next to nothing about。Reading Deborah's memoir on her journey to discover her cultural identity and roots was inspiring。 It is a shame that more Native history is not included in our school system with American history。 I am so thankful that I was able to get an early copy of this book and I can't wait to suggest it to other readers！Booksellers this would be a great hand sell with books like Killers of the Flower Moon， There There and EducatedThis review copy was provided by the publisher in exchange for a fair and honest review。 Huge thanks to Harper for my review copy。 。。。more
Charlotte
，
Deborah Jackson Taffa's memoir was a stunning look into Native life。 As a reader， you grow up alongside her， witnessing how her sense of identity shifts as her eyes are opened to her ancestors' history and their horrendous treatment by white colonizers。 Taffa is caught between many worlds - native versus Hispanic heritage， Catholic versus traditional faith， reservation life versus relocalization into cities。 She observes each of her family members finding a different way to deal with their gener Deborah Jackson Taffa's memoir was a stunning look into Native life。 As a reader， you grow up alongside her， witnessing how her sense of identity shifts as her eyes are opened to her ancestors' history and their horrendous treatment by white colonizers。 Taffa is caught between many worlds - native versus Hispanic heritage， Catholic versus traditional faith， reservation life versus relocalization into cities。 She observes each of her family members finding a different way to deal with their generational trauma; each finds a different spot to rest on the spectrum between tradition and assimilation， rebellion and submission。 She grapples with finding her own personal balance， shifting between assimilation and revolt， but ultimately feels a profound connection with her ancestors， their spirituality， and their traditions。Taffa's memoir was peppered with important historical context that is often overlooked in the history classroom。 She nicely integrates the history with her own experiences， smoothly creating both a personal and educational account that is definitely under-represented in American literature。 Overall， I highly recommend this book as a beautiful （though heartbreaking） account of family， identity， and growth。 。。。more
Stacie
，
It took me a few tries to get into this book， but once I did it was worth the read。 I wish it had included more details on life at that time in history， but it was interesting to read her story as she saw it while growing up。
Amanda
，
This book took awhile for me to really get into it， but it was worth sticking with it。 Once I got past the fact that the book isn't in chronological order with all the flashing back and flashing forward， I was able to enjoy it。 I don't know if "enjoy" is the correct word when it means reading about a girl who went through an identity crisis because of racism， even from other Natives and her mother。 But despite that， or because of， she found herself and is happy and making a difference！ This book took awhile for me to really get into it， but it was worth sticking with it。 Once I got past the fact that the book isn't in chronological order with all the flashing back and flashing forward， I was able to enjoy it。 I don't know if "enjoy" is the correct word when it means reading about a girl who went through an identity crisis because of racism， even from other Natives and her mother。 But despite that， or because of， she found herself and is happy and making a difference！ 。。。more
Jeffrey
，
Remember when growing up how hard it was to figure out your place， how to fit in and when not to， knowing your family loved you but desperately wishing they loved you as you wanted to be loved - your way rather than their way。 Those are the struggles nearly all of us endure。 Deborah Taffa had all of those， but she was also a mixed race， mixed tribe， native american dealing with the fallout of centuries of still-overwhelmingly present racism。 Assimilation。 Finding her place in her family， her sch Remember when growing up how hard it was to figure out your place， how to fit in and when not to， knowing your family loved you but desperately wishing they loved you as you wanted to be loved - your way rather than their way。 Those are the struggles nearly all of us endure。 Deborah Taffa had all of those， but she was also a mixed race， mixed tribe， native american dealing with the fallout of centuries of still-overwhelmingly present racism。 Assimilation。 Finding her place in her family， her schools， her desert landscapes。 Yearning for what she spends years working to recognize。 With startling clarity and simple prose， Taffa takes us year-by-year， from ages three to eighteen， as she struggles to learn who she is， how she fits into the landscape and into history， and how to be the person she is。 how to be that person。 Whiskey Tender is a lovely book。 Really， I'd make it 4。5 stars were that an option。 。。。more
Bonnie Goldberg
，
I am so grateful to Deborah Taffa for gifting us with Whiskey Tender and her life story。 Taffa is my age， and yet her formative years were so different from my own - growing up "half-breed" with grandparents who were born to the Quechan Nation and Laguna Pueblo tribe， a mother who was raised Catholic， and a father raised in the Native American traditions。 From the perspective of a girl growing up among so many different worlds， Taffa explores the difficult issues of reconciliation， assimilation， I am so grateful to Deborah Taffa for gifting us with Whiskey Tender and her life story。 Taffa is my age， and yet her formative years were so different from my own - growing up "half-breed" with grandparents who were born to the Quechan Nation and Laguna Pueblo tribe， a mother who was raised Catholic， and a father raised in the Native American traditions。 From the perspective of a girl growing up among so many different worlds， Taffa explores the difficult issues of reconciliation， assimilation， segregation and tradition。 This memoir is educative and evocative and an important addition to an ugly （and still unresolved） chapter of American history。 。。。more
Shannon A
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Deborah blends her Quechuan （Yuma） history with sharp wit and detailed memories of her childhood。 As she learns more about her family she has to learn how to define her identity off and on the reservation which often clashed with her Catholic education。 An absorbing debut memoir that I couldn’t put down。
Julianne Warren
，
Whiskey Tender is “born of nostalgia，” that acute longing for home， which Deborah Jackson Taffa’s Laguna Grandmother， Esther， taught her is the forebear of most “recitation， poetry， and writing” （279）。 Because， as Laguna writer Leslie Marmon Silko said， “it’s only in a state of nostalgia that we can see things clearly” （280）。 Home is a geography of relationships blended with time， which Taffa considers， as she writes， from a distance。 Taffa's memoir follows a chronological line， which traces her Whiskey Tender is “born of nostalgia，” that acute longing for home， which Deborah Jackson Taffa’s Laguna Grandmother， Esther， taught her is the forebear of most “recitation， poetry， and writing” （279）。 Because， as Laguna writer Leslie Marmon Silko said， “it’s only in a state of nostalgia that we can see things clearly” （280）。 Home is a geography of relationships blended with time， which Taffa considers， as she writes， from a distance。 Taffa's memoir follows a chronological line， which traces her own childhood maturation。 While personal change intersects with doggedly researched intergenerational dimensions of “post-apocalyptic difficulties we were enduring” （200） as a family with heritages including Laguna Pueblo， Quechan （Yuma）， Shoshone-Paiute， and Spanish and Genízaro （kidnapped and enslaved Native persons engulfed by Spanish colonialism）。 Taffa’s story of persistent harms by gaslighting institutions and policies rooted in genocidal intentions of Spanish and other European colonizers and of persistent Indigenous survival and collective continuance is an if not "the" iconic American one （16）。 While to stay alive， personally， Taffa is driven to puzzle together – and， gratefully， share – history that has been structurally rent， grossly simplified， lied about， and buried by colonial-assimilationist policies like white-washed， hegemonic school and church programming and Native relocation policies tearing apart kinship and ceremony and imposing shame。 Taffa， for instance， inherits “two versions of oppression” internalized by her parents （142） – her “light-skinned” Spanish/Genízaro mom’s “inferiority complex with whites” and her darker-skinned Laguna-Quechan-Paiute dad’s feelings of lower status as a displaced “breed” of “mixed tribe” compared with “full-blood” Diné （Navajo） （26）。 If nostalgia is its forebear， anger feels like a living heart in Taffa’s memoir， one who fleshes out into full-blown “rage。。。against the fear this country has of its own history” （209）。 This rage， for a season， turns inward with its underlying pain of violent injustice – of broken treaties， thefts， muzzlings， and/or woundings of the very conditions of home – of land， kin， identity and belonging， norms of “success，” truths of languages and stories， and of Quechan dream traditions – and almost， but， gratefully， does not kill the author。 The need to reassemble herself with the courage to replace shame with self-love and to attune with ancestral undercurrents of reconnective strength and lands’ music， wherever she may be – longing for the desert and dwelling within it – is steadying。 I do not feel， as a white settler， alienated by her story， as she hoped we would not （16）。 Rather， I resonate with the lasting tones of Taffa’s just anger alongside celebration。 I feel invited into my own nostalgia to see， with clarity， my need to unweave personal home-longing from complicity with systemic home-taking。 I feel called into solidarity with Taffa’s light flooding the still- “too many dark corners in America “（16） and into better worlds-making。 Maybe other readers of Taffa’s necessary and brilliant work will be similarly moved。 I also hope that many educators will integrate Whiskey Tender into curricula across the U。S。 and beyond。Note: I received an advanced reader copy of this book courtesy of NetGalley 。。。more
Bhavna Mehta
，
Deborah Taffa’s gorgeous memoir “Whiskey Tender” brims with life。 And death。 And dreams。Icama， as Taffa explains early in the book， is a core belief of the Quechuan people in Southwest America。 It is a respect and belief that one’s dreams can act as a guide towards civic responsibility， personal goals， spiritual power， as well as an interaction with the souls of the dead。 At the beginning of Part 1， Taffa sets up the present context of being fifty years old and driving with her father to her mot Deborah Taffa’s gorgeous memoir “Whiskey Tender” brims with life。 And death。 And dreams。Icama， as Taffa explains early in the book， is a core belief of the Quechuan people in Southwest America。 It is a respect and belief that one’s dreams can act as a guide towards civic responsibility， personal goals， spiritual power， as well as an interaction with the souls of the dead。 At the beginning of Part 1， Taffa sets up the present context of being fifty years old and driving with her father to her mother’s funeral and falling “into a sandstorm dream。” They are going home to their reservation in Yuma， CA， where Taffa and her family lived during her early childhood。 As I read， I too feel into the dream of the book， the characters came alive as they protected and pulled away from each other; as the journeys towards and away from home were immersion in cultures， neighborhoods， towns and their ancient and urban ways; as dreams weaved in and out of a physical and material reality that invited me in and stunned me with its vividness。 Life and death intertwine and sadness looms and envelopes。 Full of specificity and immediacy， the book is about family， colonialism， the extractionary harshness of whiteness， the struggle of communities to stay together and not knowing what helps or hinders that togetherness。 Overall， there is no turning away from the wrenching realities of living on and away from a family’s ancestral land。 This is a coming of age memoir spanning the time from Taffa’s birth to her graduating from high school in Farmington， NM in the 1980s。 Her father is Quechan/Laguna and her mother is Hispanic; and both of them come from families with deep roots in New Mexico。 Taffa is a magical storyteller。 She resurrects， for the reader， the large families on both sides—full of siblings， cousins， aunts， uncles， and grandparents that both her parents bring into their union。 There are differences in religious practices， although Taffa’s paternal grandmother who held a mixture of tribal and Christian beliefs gives an insight into how they can be merged into a spiritual life。 As she grows， Taffa encounters and confronts spaces and individuals where religion plays a central role。 She goes to a convent school where nuns and other teachers hold on to the punitive power of Christianity over the native communities。 As a child， she attends a funeral after the early and tragic death of her uncle and aunt where the ceremony in the Cry House and the cremation of bodies over the cottonwood branches reminded me of my own family’s Hindu practice of mourning。 Taffa’s mother is a devout Catholic who says the rosary and takes her little girls to mass every morning but also ignores the wisdom of the native ways that Taffa seeks out。 Taffa’s father is a mighty presence in the book。 Taffa is honest and clear about his difficult beginnings and his run-ins with the law and time in jail when he was a teenager。 As the book progresses， he trains to be a welder， gets a stable job at the Four Corners power plant， and becomes the first Indian foreman in the history of the plant。 He coaches softball when Taffa and her siblings are younger， exposes the kids to contemporary culture， tells them stories of growing up rough on the Yuma reservation， and as she grows， encourages Taffa to make her own choices and to figure out what it means for her to be an individual。 He is sharp， tough， and grounded but also kind and supportive。 Throughout， we see the Southwest landscape through Taffa’s eyes – the Colorado river that runs through the Yuma reservation， the Animas river where her family goes fishing， the cacti and sage plants， the sandstone lands and the desert canyons， the ravens and eagles， juniper and cottonwood trees， the sun rising over the bluffs and boulders。 As a teenager， she gets up early and hikes in her favorite canyon by herself。 I loved to imagine her walking and thinking about all that she was beginning to confront in her young life。 In addition to the angst most youngsters feel， Taffa has a lot coming at her from different directions – a deep longing to learn from her ancestors and to help with the Quechan community， a need for friendship with native people her age， a desire to puzzle out the intersections of history and country， a wrestling with how she could speak up about injustice。 Late in the book， Taffa has a dream while driving back home with her family， after her sister survives a terrible car accident。 She writes about the dream: “。。。my ancestors were running across the desert。 They were leaping over washes and climbing up boulders with supernatural speed—and they were pulling me alongside them。 At first I thought we were trying to escape， but then I realized we were running toward rather than away， and the dream became beautiful。” 。。。more
George Cunningham
，
Whiskey Tender is a 1980s coming of age story of a girl whose father’s forebears are Quechan and Laguna Pueblo Native American， and mother’s forebears are Hispanic with deep roots in Socorro New Mexico。 Her early years were on the Fort Yuma Indian Reservation， and later years were in Farmington NM。 It was a rough upbringing。 She is not accepted by the dominant Dine´ （Navajo） in Farmington - not their tribe， or the Hispanics - part Native American， or the white people。 This book is many books in Whiskey Tender is a 1980s coming of age story of a girl whose father’s forebears are Quechan and Laguna Pueblo Native American， and mother’s forebears are Hispanic with deep roots in Socorro New Mexico。 Her early years were on the Fort Yuma Indian Reservation， and later years were in Farmington NM。 It was a rough upbringing。 She is not accepted by the dominant Dine´ （Navajo） in Farmington - not their tribe， or the Hispanics - part Native American， or the white people。 This book is many books in one。 The main thread is a compelling and engaging look at the life of a minority young person in the southwestern US at that time。 Along the way， you learn of the struggles of her Native American dad to get a job of professional speciality welder for which he was trained。 The contrast of the Native American beliefs of her father， and her mother’s unyielding insistence that she will end in hell if she does not adhere to strictly Catholic doctrine was hard to absorb。 You also gain an understanding of Native American history from the Native perspective， including personal stories from the author’s direct ancestors。 I learned a great deal about a part of the country that I thought I was very familiar with。 I taught in Socorro NM from 1989 to 2001。 It would have been very useful to me to have read this book before beginning there。Her parents agreed that all of their kids need to do well in school and attend college。 This is more than offset by the pressures from society， some of her teachers， and most of her classmates that made it more than clear that Native Americans are third class citizens in their eyes。 In the end， Ms。 Taffa does not follow her parents' idea of going from high school to college， but chooses her own different path that worked for her。The book is an engaging read suitable for young adults and adults。 It could be life changing for a young woman in a similar situation。 It also might be useful to any teacher in today's increasing multiethnic world。 I wholeheartedly give it five stars， and completely agree with the reviewer who said it should be in every library。 （Note: I received an advanced reader copy of this book courtesy of NetGalley。） 。。。more
Geoffrey
，
（Note: I received an advanced reader copy of this book courtesy of NetGalley）I honestly don’t know where to start on everything that I was able to learn thanks to Deborah Tafa’s personal narrative and the way that it seamlessly blends her personal story and family history with plentiful amounts of general Native American history and Native American history pertaining specifically to the American southwest。 Whisky Tender ended up providing quite the hefty education that I immediately valued immen （Note: I received an advanced reader copy of this book courtesy of NetGalley）I honestly don’t know where to start on everything that I was able to learn thanks to Deborah Tafa’s personal narrative and the way that it seamlessly blends her personal story and family history with plentiful amounts of general Native American history and Native American history pertaining specifically to the American southwest。 Whisky Tender ended up providing quite the hefty education that I immediately valued immensely， speaking as someone whose own education about indigenous Americans wasn’t so much an education as it was a nearly total lack of one。 I appreciated the way that Taffa managed to expose my now-glaring knowledge gaps on numerous indigenous-related matters that I wasn’t even aware of before promptly proceeding to give me a helpful foundation to filling them in。 However， even by some miracle I had been able to go into this book already completely up to date on the aforementioned， I still would have treasured reading it all the same。 It’s still a beautifully honest and open memoir about growing up and trying to navigate the sharp disconnect between a white-centric mainstream culture， the so-called American dream and her own native identity。 Also， speaking as a descendant of European settlers and immigrants - the country as Taffa has lived it and as I have lived it so far are extremely different experiences （and that’s such an understatement that it almost feels like a crime）。 And it’s not often that I get the valuable opportunity to get at least a glimpse into this part of America， much less one so very deeply intimate。 Whisky Tender is definitely one of my favorite nonfiction reads of 2023， and one of my favorite reads of the year in general - and in my opinion， it’s now an absolute must-have for the shelves of my local public library and the academic library where I work。 。。。more
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