Only a Kids' Book

The other evening I was looking for something light to read. Something lighter than the two books I'm in the middle of -- Roxane Gay's Bad Feminist and The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao by Junot Diaz. I know, weird -- what's not light about those?

Anyway, I found an old copy of a Phyllis A. Whitney novel. As a girl, I read every mystery by Ms. Whitney that I could find. I loved her books! So the other night, I thought this would do. It's only a kids' book and an old one at that. Nice and light. Eight pages and one half-page illustration later, the protagonist's dad announces they are moving to South Africa because he wants to write about that "ghastly experiment of apartheid." Say what?

Who was Phyllis A. Whitney that she was writing for children about apartheid and South Africa in 1961?

It turns out, Ms. Whitney wrote scores of mysteries and, unusual in the genre, she wrote for both children and adults. She won the Edgar twice. She kept her maiden name and divorced her first husband because he wasn't supportive of her writing. At 79 she told The New York Times that she kept meaning to go back and reread her books when she got old, but "I never seem to get old." Appropriate then that Ms Whitney published her last book at 97 and died at 104.

Yes, there's some gender stereotyping in Secret of the Tiger's Eye, but it's minimal, and Ms. Whitney does not shy away from describing the weirdness of increasingly restrictive apartheid rules. She also acknowledges that race relations in the U.S. are coming under closer scrutiny and pressure.

Her main character, in particular, is well-drawn and realistic. Benita is about 14 and, since their mother's death, feels responsible for her younger brother. She is clearly going through her angst-y teen stage. She's taken a dislike to a boy her family is traveling with and can't budge in her feelings. Ms Whitney gets it right -- Benny knows she's being unreasonable, she can step outside herself and see the folly of her actions, but she is incapable in the moment of changing the trajectory. I so recognize that feeling and it seems a hallmark of modern young adult literature.

"Only a kids' book." Yes, adult literature can be structurally more challenging and multi-layered than children's literature, including young adult. There can be a higher level vocabulary, and events don't have to be spelled out as directly. But I am reminded of what another author ahead of her time said when goaded to defend fiction: "It is only a novel... or, in short, only some work in which the greatest powers of the mind are displayed, in which the most thorough knowledge of human nature, the happiest delineation of its varieties, the liveliest effusions of wit and humour, are conveyed to the world in the best-chosen language." 

I know not all children's books are created equal. The next childhood mystery-fave that I picked up (not by Ms. Whitney) was awful, with stereotypical characters solving a predictable mystery. Still I should know better than to paint all children's literature with the same brush. Only a kids' book? Right! Only a book that names and legitimizes feelings; only a text which introduces the greater world to children; only a story that shows them how to be their authentic selves in that world. Only a universe to fall into!

Thanks for the reminder, Ms. Whitney, and thanks for being a trailblazer.

Yikes! September!

Where did that amazing summer go? In less than one week, school starts up again and summer reading is just a memory.

A sweet memory for some of us, and here's why. Seattle Public Library offered Book Bingo! Did you hear about that? The library issued bingo cards in which each cell represents a specific book category: NW author, published the year you were born, short story collection, borrowed from the library, etc. You fill in the cells with titles of what you read, and with each "bingo" your name is entered in a drawing.

Did you play? We did in the library. All of us got our bingo cards at the Judy Blume Seattle Arts & Lectures event last June (Now that was fun!! She's amazing!) and spent the summer filling in the blanks. Not to brag or anything, but I'm one short of a blackout and I've got my (banned) book in hand!

Admittedly, I'm an avid reader at any time, and can get a little competitive about these things, but even so, this was energizing for the three of us and for some of our colleagues and friends. In fact, Lisa organized a Facebook page for our group of enthusiasts to track each other's progress and give book recommendations.

I read a lot of wonderful books this summer, some I might not have picked up but for this challenge (Out of my comfort zone: Bomb by Steve Sheinkin); renewed my love of reading; achieved one of my summer goals; and connected with friends around books.

All in all, an amazing summer -- and that's just the part around reading! How about you?

Swear Words in Space

It has often been repeated in this blog but it is worth saying again: the answer to the question “What should kids read” is simple.  “Let them read what they want.”

My 7^th grader came home about a week ago saying more than just a monosyllabic “Fine” when I asked him about his day. “We had advisory in the English room today and since I was bored I picked up The Martian and started reading it. It is so awesome!”

The Martian, by Andy Weir, is terrific. Fast paced, exciting, grounded in real science and incredibly funny, it focuses on Mark Watney, the sole inhabitant of Mars. His fellow astronauts had to evacuate the planet during a dust storm that nearly killed him. Now stranded on the planet, with no way to signal to Earth that he is alive, Mark must find a way to survive. Armed with his engineering skills, smarts, a few disco sound tracks, some potatoes and a streak of black humor, Mark makes like the Bee Gees in stayin’ alive.

The book is also liberally peppered with expletives, starting with the very first sentence. I wish I could quote it here.  

The  #*$@! makes sense.  If you were the only person on Mars you would not talk like a Victorian schoolmarm; you would talk in four-letter words. The language is a realistic part of the landscape of the book and not added for shock value or false titillation. In fact, it adds to the humor and makes Mark Watney a much more believable character.

But did I want a 12 year old to read it? I confess I did hesitate, briefly. This is pretty grown-up language. Could I suggest he wait, just a bit longer, to read it?

But then again, was it really so bad? Certainly there are many more vulgar things out there, in rap lyrics, and some Internet pages. What if Jon Stewart weren’t bleeped out? There is no violence in the book and certainly no sex. Mark is the only person on the planet, remember.

For the record, when I read this book about a year ago, I loved it instantly and knew my son would too. And when the movie comes out in December, we will be there together. I just hoped he might wait a bit longer. Maybe read the new Adam Rex first. Try some classic science fiction next.

But the day he came home having started the book at school, I found our copy, gave it to him and said “Enjoy.” For one rainy weekend, he read constantly, laughing often, forgetting to check his phone. If he had to stop to do something else, he would complain “But I’m at the most exciting part.” When he finished, he said “This is the best book EVER!” He has since recommended it to all his friends, a few teachers and possibly random strangers. It is that kind of a book.  

This is what happens when you just let kids read exactly what they want. 

Plus ça change . . .

Do you want to know what I love most about Marjorie Livengood Library at The Bush School? I love how kids use it outside of class. We have the youngest children with their caregivers in the morning come in at drop-off to read books and use the date due stamp. We have middle school boys at their 10:00 break playing Minecraft. We have 3rd through 5th graders at lunch recess knitting, learning to juggle, playing Twister and doing jigsaw puzzles. We have kids on computers with typing games, PowerPoint animations and Scratch. They are reading, drawing and folding paper. After school, middle and upper school kids hang out in the Maker Space where they do homework as two boys build a CNC router and a succession of students try out the 3-D printer.

We’ve visualized our school library as a libratory for many years now -- as a place where you can come to get any of your research questions answered -- from how to latch hook to the effect Shirley Chisholm’s candidacy had on the 1972 presidential election.

I’ve been reading a lot lately about technology -- teens and tech, education and tech, and especially libraries and tech. Carolyn Foote, in School Library Journal, exhorts us all to be futurists. Paul Mihailidis lays out a plan for school libraries to morph into more relevant “learning commons.” Now admittedly, I’m not the deepest reader when it comes to theory or even just non-fiction, but it really feels to me like the kinds of steps being advocated are what we have been doing for the past 15 years.

Not that one can rest on one’s laurels in this day and age! Technology and students’ needs change too quickly for that. So as the Head Librarian suggests we think about a new layout of the book stacks or we figure out how to implement a self-checkout model, the one constant is change.

YA (Y-Gay!) Fiction, by our guest blogger

                To continue the on-going discussion of diversity in books, here are 5 young adult titles featuring gay main characters. Luckily, there are many more I could add to this list.  

                A great starting point for younger readers is Totally Joe, by James Howe. 7^th grader Joe Bunch has the sweetest coming out story of any. He knows for sure he is gay, he remains cheerful and optimistic as he tells his family, they in turn are loving and supportive – the process is almost too easy. But the book does raise questions of gender expectations and traditional roles, bullying and stereotypes, and the cut-throat nature of the teenage quest for popularity. Joe is given the assignment to write an “alphabiography," and the book takes the form of his journal as he describes his year with alphabetically ordered headings, such as “C is for Colin." It is funny, it is short, and you will want to follow the characters further in the rest of Howe’s “The Misfits” series.

                Absolutely deserving of every single award this book has received (including the 2015 Stonewall Honor award), I’ll Give you the Sun, by Jandy Nelson is vivid and multi-layered, bursting with images, ideas and heartbreak. Twins Jude and Noah tell the story in alternating chapters; Jude tells of the recent events (when they are 16), Noah the ones describing what happened when they were 13. They both are artists; she sculpts, he paints. She jumps off cliffs, has a bad experience with a boy and almost shuts down completely. He meets the boy next door who has stars in his eyes and a science on his brain and they fall in love. There are so many good things to mention about this book but one of the best is how the author captures the heady, awkward feeling of falling in love, how you think about it all the time but can’t find the words to say it out loud. Here is Noah watching Brian at a party:

                Brian’s reading the titles on the spines of books on the shelves like he’s going to be tested on it.

                “I love you,” I say to him, only it comes out, “Hey.”

                “So damn much,” he says back, only it comes out, “Dude.” (p. 131)

Things do not go easily for the pair but that tension helps makes the novel all the more moving. Read it and marvel at what this author can do.

                Taking a different approach to this theme is Openly Straight, by Bill Konigsberg. Here the main character Rafe Goldberg has a safe and secure life in Boulder, with understanding parents, tolerant soccer team, even a respected volunteer position as motivational speaker for the local PFLAG organization. He thinks about labels and what it means to be gay, about the difference between tolerance and acceptance, and how nice it would be to “just be” himself. So, when he transfers to an all-boy’s school in New England, he resolves to be entirely label free. He doesn’t exactly lie about his preference, but he doesn’t announce it either. This leads to a lot of complicated pretending.

                Lies piles on lies. Rafe texts and calls his best friend at home, a girl named Claire Olivia. She doesn’t get what Rafe is trying to do. When Rafe comes home for Christmas, he asks Claire Olivia to pretend to be his ex-girlfriend. When Rafe’s parents visit New England for a school tour, he begs them not to reveal that in Boulder he was openly gay. But only when Rafe starts having feeling for cute Ben, does he admit what a crazy idea his whole experiment turned out to be. While the set-up of this book feels contrived, it does provide a good starting point for discussions on what it means to live honestly.

                Everything about Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe, by Benjamin Alire Saenz is beautiful. Dante Quintana and Angel Aristotle Mendoza meet at a pool and become friends. They are nice 15 year old Hispanic boys. They live with nice parents. Dante teaches Ari how to swim. They swim and read comics and argue about them. Dante reads poetry and sketches. They talk about words and art and the meaning of life. Time passes and they get part time jobs, and learn to drive. Ari gets a truck and adopts a dog. They experiment with kissing girls. They drive into the desert, lie on the back of the truck, smoke pot and watch the stars. They have a few beers, go to parties, laugh, talk, laugh some more. They experiment with kissing each other. Ari claims it doesn’t work for him.

                El Paso must be a hot dry place, but the key events take place in the rain. Near the beginning of the book, the boys watch the rain and then walk outside, barefoot. Dante stops to pick up a bird with a broken wing. Without warning, a car comes around the corner. Without thinking, Ari leaps in front of his friend, shoving him out of the way and saving Dante’s life, but breaking his own two legs and an arm in the process.  Ari claims he was just saving his friend.  He doesn’t talk about it.

                By the end of the book, Ari learns to trust his feelings. Instead of trying to figure out the secrets of the universe, he figures of the secrets of his heart. And the answers are not in the stars, but right in front of him. 

                And finally, a title about a girl. The Miseducation of Cameron Post, by Emily M. Danforth is leisurely paced, beautifully evocative and written in – get this – complete sentences and full paragraphs. Set in the early 1990’s, and also features gay teens who smoke a lot of pot and hang out in swimming pools. Readers are immersed in the heat of the Montana summers, as well as the stifling small town attitudes and the conservative church preaching. Left to her own devices, Cameron would spend the day decorating her dollhouse, exploring the hospital, swimming in the pool. Boring! No. She decorates the dollhouse with airplane-sized vodka bottles (they make a perfect floor lamp), Nixon buttons, gum-wrappers and stamps. The hospital she and friends explore is ancient, dark and abandoned.  The Spanish-style architecture is crumbling, there is a weathered stone cross on top and miles and miles of creepy, nun-haunted hallways to explore. As for the pool, it is really a lake, full of weeds and algae-slimed lane markers, and starting blocks covered in slippery puke-green carpet. Cameron spends much of her time there, first on the swim team, then as a life guard. She swims well, wins her events, and afterwards, makes out with other girls behind the changing sheds and under the docks.

                This is not a coming out story. Cameron knows she likes girls. The day her parents die in a car accident, she is shoplifting with Irene, and kissing her (all soft and tasting of gum and root beer). Despite her grief over her parents, Cameron also can’t help feeling relief that she and Irene were not caught together. Ultra-religious Aunt Ruth comes to live with her, taking her to Gates of Praise church and signing her up for the youth group “Firepower." Gates of Praise, no surprise, equates “homo-sesh-oo-ality” with sin. None of this stops Cameron from falling in love with Coley Taylor, beautiful cow-girl, whose hair smells of peony and sweet grass. She has a boyfriend, with the “jaunty good looks of an ad for astronaut recruitment,” but the summer he is away at soccer camp, things really heat up. They make out and mess around. A lot. Right until the moment Coley balks. After that, Coley tell her mother how Cameron “corrupted her." Her mother tells their Pastor; the pastor tells Aunt Ruth. And Cameron is sent away to God’s Promise Christian School and Center for Healing. As Cam’s grandmother innocently puts it, “I don’t know as Ruth’s way is right, but I know you need some straightening out.”             

                The second half of the novel covers Cameron’s time at camp, in the beautiful mountains of Montana. Never mocking the process of “being cured," but always questioning it, Cameron really comes into her own strength in this part of the book as with perfect control the author guides the book to its surprising final scene. This is a book to savor slowly and an author to watch.

                What books would you add to this list? 

It's All about the Kids, 'bout the Kids

You know The Bush School Library has all kinds of resources for parents and teachers too, right? We have books and videos encouraging adults in their work of raising and educating children -- everything from Experience and Education, by John Dewey (who inspired Helen Bush) to Madeline Levine’s Teach Your Children Well: Why Values and Coping Skills Matter More Than Grades, Trophies,or “Fat Envelopes”.

We have Free Range Kids: Giving Our Children the Freedom We Had without Going Nuts with Worry, a book by the World’s Worst Mom. (Lenore Skenazy is not really a bad mother, but the online controversy when she let her child ride the subway alone? OMG.) We have that wonderful French documentary, Babies. Four babies from birth to walking, four countries, four very distinct parenting styles.

I’m thinking about this today because I was looking up Kylene Beers this morning. (Do you know her? No reason to if you are a parent. If you are a reading teacher, I highly recommend checking her out. We have her book, Notice and Note: Strategies for Close Reading. My friend, a second grade teacher in Los Angeles, has been singing her praises for a year now.) So, anyway, like I said, I was looking her up this morning and here were the first words I read:

. . . a couple of weeks ago, I came across the Meghan Trainor music video hit “All About That Bass.” To be honest, I found that song because of the brilliant riff by some high school kids titled “All About Those Books.”  That song sent me in search of the original.  Now, with both lyrics in mind, I find myself humming “It’s all about the bass/books” all the time. And those lyrics set my mind in motion: what is _____________ all about? No surprise, I fill in that blank with the word “education.” What is education all about? I answer that with it’s “all about the kids.” That’s it. It’s not about a test. Not a blue ribbon. Not racing to the top.  It is all about the kids. When we lose sight of that, well, we simply lose.

Wow. There is it. What is best for our kids? There are lots of answers to this. Here are some of mine: Clean air, clean water, good food. Shelter, love, confidence. Opportunity, trust, faith. How do the actions we take as parents, educators and taxpayers support our children? Not our pocketbooks, not our schools, not our egos . . . our children. We love them with tender voices and soft hands. We feed them with food, stories, ideas, choices. We shelter them with a clean environment and safe spaces. We let them take risks appropriate to their age; we let them fail and experience disappointment and give them comfort in our arms. We celebrate their successes. We accept them for themselves, this amazing gift that the universe has loaned us for a time.

Musings by our guest blogger

I have been thinking about Lindi’s last post on diversity in books and made a discovery. Here is what I have been reading lately:

• ·       An autobiography in verse about an African American girl growing up in the 60’s and 70’s
• ·       Fiction about a young white girl in New York in 1986 whose beloved gay uncle dies of AIDS
• ·       Novel about a young white girl who is raised with a chimpanzee for a sister
• ·       Fantasy about modern Canadian dragon slayers
• ·       A largely autobiographical novel about a girl from Zimbabwe who moves to Michigan
• ·       Non-fiction account about 4 undocumented teens from Mexico, now living in Phoenix, who make a robot and against all odds defeat the team from MIT in a national competition

                You probably noticed it before I did – the novels are about white girls, while the non-fiction is much more diverse.  And yes, you could say it is just my reading this month, but I think it represents a bigger picture. Diversity is lacking in mainstream fiction. Everyday day there are novels published about white characters. Many are excellent, beautifully written, compelling stories. The ones I listed here do have some diversity in them – the gay uncle, the chimpanzee sister, and the Canadian dragons. But who tells the story of learning from her mother how to obey the segregation laws of the South without making trouble – the author herself. Who can describe the longing for guava and the games she played with the other children in the shanty town called Paradise – the author herself. No one else was telling their story so they wrote it themselves. As for the Latino robotics team – it is now a major motion picture but if the author had not followed up a spam-like press release he received and got to the beginning of the story, it might not have been told.

                What I’m trying to say is that diversity should not be delegated to the non-fiction and memoir sections of the library or bookstore. There should be as much diversity as possible in all forms of writing. Documentaries about overcoming challenges and winning the competition should be balanced with everyday stories featuring a variety of characters. If diversity in books acts as a kind of map, then we all need many more signposts and illustrations along the way.

Titles mentioned:

Brown Girl Dreaming by Jacqueline Woodson

Tell the Wolves I’m Home by Carol Rifka Brunt

We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves by Karen Joy Fowler

The Story of Own: Dragon Slayer of Tronheim by E.K. Johnston

We Need New Names by NoViolet Bulawayo

Spare Parts: Four Undocumented Teenagers, One Ugly Robot, and the Battle for the American Dream by Joshua Davis