Author Visit with Mary Atkinson |
for Cynthia Leitich Smith's Cynsations
Recently, I received an email from Abby, a student at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. She was working on a research project about Lollipop Power, a small press established in Chapel Hill in 1970.
She wanted to know if I was the author of one of their books, María Teresa. She’d found correspondence between the author and the press archived in the university library.
“Looking at your website,” she wrote, “I see you are a great educator! I am teaching in Texas after I graduate so I always love stumbling upon other teachers and seeing their wisdom.”
Of course I got right back to her! Now in my 60s, I am full of wisdom and I’m always happy to share!
I had written María Teresa when I was living in Cincinnati, Ohio in the late 1970s. I taught Spanish then to first and second graders at Silverton Elementary School in a magnet program to attract white students to the predominantly black school. Because I only had high school certification, I needed to get my elementary certificate to keep my job. I enrolled in the necessary courses at Xavier University.
I signed up for History of Children’s Literature, a course that ultimately guided me to my life’s passion—writing for children. One day, we had a guest speaker: Lucille Clifton.
What she said had a profound impact on me. She said that all children deserve to see themselves in children’s books. In 1977!
As a teacher in a school where most of my students were black, Clifton’s comment resonated with me. I’d already looked in my local library for picture books where both the students I taught and the children who spoke the language I taught were represented. I’d found very few.
One assignment in the children’s literature course was to write and illustrate a children’s book. Another life defining moment!
Thus, María Teresa was born. María Teresa tells the story of a young Mexican American girl who finds her voice in her Anglo classroom through her puppet, Monteja la Oveja.
I decided to try to get María Teresa published. I combed through the thick volume of the Writer’s Market at the Cincinnati Public Library. Why did I pick Lollipop Power Press among all the others listed?
Because I loved the Lollipop mission.
The Lollipop Power Press was a non-sexist and non-racist children’s book publishing collective, a feminist press concerned with issues of class, race, and gender equality.
It published books such as Martin’s Father by Margrit Eichler about a boy and his black single-parent father; Jesse’s Dream Skirt by Bruce Mack about a boy who sews his own skirt and wears it to school; and In Christina’s Toolbox by Dianne Homan about a girl who loves to build things just like her mom.
I was thrilled when Lollipop accepted my manuscript for publication. That was easy, I thought! I’m going to be a children’s author! I’ll write stories, send them to publishers and they’ll become books. (Little did I know…)
Abby, the college student, and I spoke on the phone. Her curiosity about and enthusiasm for María Teresa touched me deeply. It took me back to a time when a book about a girl and her toolbox, a boy who wears a skirt, and a boy with a single black dad were unusual, and in many places, controversial.
“Were you a radical?” she asked me when I told her about how Lollipop Power’s vision back then was so new.
Well, I joked, if believing in equality and access to children’s literature for all children was radical, I guess I was.
And still am. It all goes back to my ah-ha moment when listening to Lucille Clifton. Every child deserves to see themselves in the books they read.
As I think back on it, two things are notable. One, that as a WASP New Englander, it had never occurred to me back then to even think about how there were children who couldn’t find themselves in books. And two, that as soon as she said it, it touched a deep well inside me.
I understood what she was saying. I understood how important it was. And I wanted to be a children’s author who wrote stories for and about all kinds of children.
Forty years later, the vision of We Need Diverse Books is “A world in which all children can see themselves in the pages of a book.”
Am I a radical to ask, “Why is this taking so long?”
Cynsational Notes
Mary Atkinson has taught Spanish to students of all ages, been a third grade teacher, and hosted a Spanish radio show. Her poetry for children has appeared in magazines and anthologies, and her fiction and non-fiction have been published widely in educational markets. She is the author of Owl Girl (Maine Authors Publishing, 2015).
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Okay. I think the boys are on to some things:
Climbing walls would be an awesome addition to the bookstore.
More computers are good.
Better food and Mountain Dew (Yuck!) would be good as well. I sometimes get sick of bookstore/coffeehouse food too and wish there were heartier options available.
But a big no to the Hooters girls and the loud music. I vote for NO MUSIC AT ALL!!
Climbing walls - yes! There should be myriad opportunities to fall and impress the Hooter girl (and Hunky Boy) checkers. (I'm all for discrimination based on appearance if it's going to be equal and for all tastes. Of course, then it's not really discrimination anymore, is it?)
Computers -- double yes -- I hate that you can look up things in a library -- where they are, what they're about, etc., but can't do that when you're about to spend money. How dumb is that?
And I have to agree - the music might be a major distraction. But then, handing out headsets so everyone could thrash to their own tunes and/or listen to a bookstore sponsored bestseller descriptions list and/or audio book - good fun. You could do that whilst you were eating your ginormous sandwich and drinking your nasty Irn Bru (which is the Scots version of Mtn. Dew - only more foul), otherwise I'm not sure how huge sandwiches could go with books - unless the "you smear it, you buy it" rule is in effect, and who wants to be in charge of that? Much better to have a magazines and audio books only rule in the Quiznos shop.
You may think this is just for fun, but don't forget you brainacs came up with a YA blogger's conference out of a dream potluck post. I think y'all should keep thinking/talking, because I for one am sick of people bemoaning how boys don't read, and offering to do "Sweet Fanny Adams" (another UK-ism -- ha!) about it.
NO, DON'T TAKE MY COFFEE AWAY.
I suppose I can make an exception for the boys of the world.
Maybe we can have both Quiznos and cappuccinos.
I think we're on to something big, and you can say it all started here. Let's keep brainstorming. I think David Elzey was really on to something with his comments from your first post -- of course, that's what Scieszka has been saying all along. There aren't enough male teacher and librarian role models -- too many female librarians pushing Jacob Have I Loved.
But I'm getting away from bookstores again.
Jules, 7-Imp, typing this as that Michael Stipe furry-sobbing-monsters-shiny-happy-monsters thing, which you sent to 7-Imp before for our kicks list, is playing on Sesame Street
Jules, I ADORE Jacob Have I Loved, and coffee, so I'm totally handicapped. :)
TadMack, love the headset idea. Kelly would love it, too! And the idea of audio books in the sub shop.
BTW, my local indie, Politics and Prose, doesn't have a climbing wall, but they do have awesome sandwiches.
I love the idea that a bookstore could be different - really in almost any way at all - since they are all about the same.
Climbing wall? Sure. Hearty food? Yeah. Computers around? OH, YEAH.
But no music, that's what iPod's are for.
There should be monkey bars too.
I wrote a short story titled, "How to Read Upside Down." This was meant for boys who don't know how to pick up a book and turn on their imaginations. Monkey bars would help - my nine year-old son would agree!
When you open your first boy-savy bookstore - let me know! I will be there with my climbing clothes on!!
At Gulliver's Books, the indy where I worked in Fairbanks, we had a sandwich shop that served espresso, baked goods and made sandwiches. So yes, you can have the best of both worlds. (We also had a bunch of cold drinks - no sodas, but bottled stuff that everyone enjoyed.)
As for music we had a CD player and the staff got to pick what they wanted. We did local stuff - which up there is folk/rock and we played a lot of blues and New Orleans jazz. I remember that the Aretha Franklin box set was very popular.
You have to have music or the quiet is deafening - it is actually an uncomfortable distraction when the store is TOO quiet.
Can you believe I've never read it, Sara? For shame.
Jules, 7-Imp
Climbing walls. Definitely. My son would be all over it. Make it so you have to climb to get to the books. That would make it fun!
Yes, many of these things make for great fantasy bookstores but if they really existed they'd go out of business PDQ.
A climbing wall? Without charging an admission fee, how would a store be able to pay off the liability insurance?
Computers? Yeah, I see what happens when a bunch of boys huddle around the computers at the library -- suddenly you have new noise ordinances, and content monitors, and damaged stations and, eventually, no boys hanging around because they can't do what they want... and it doesn't make them want to read.
What we're doing here sound like we're trying to add books to a rec center, which is all fine but I'm not sure it fulfills the purpose: to get boys to read. Since I don't want to harsh the buzz here I ought to offer up some suggestions of my own.
Location: A large underground lair with lots of warm lighting. The idea is to move toward the basement/garage setting boys like to lurk in, but to keep it bright enough to read and hang out. And it needs to be large to accommodate not only books and a cafe but plenty of comfy couches and beanbag chairs.
Ambiance: There will be music, but it will neither be loud nor soothing. Think about how a party can be ruined by loud or aggressive music just as easily as it can seem boring with wimpy jazz. It's a tricky balance, to be decided by a collective, and maybe an occasional nightly DJ night spinning tunes to fit the thematic mood of a particular book or genre. Like imagined soundtracks/playlists for particular books.
Decor and book selection: Naturally the owner(s) of such a place would make all primary decisions but an open collective of customers would meet on a regular basis to make, plan and implement decisions about how to decorate and what to stock. You build a community and they will come to see themselves as empowered caretakers. They'll drag in their friends. Outreach with local schools should be directed at boys and parents should be invited to *not* attend. You think boys are going to be themselves with their parents around?
BTW, you want to sell books to boys you need to be prepared to sell a lot of what is normally considered adult content. Not porn, but technical manuals for hacking electronic devices, non-fiction sports bios and adventure stories, LOTS of graphic novels, and a fair amount of bathroom humor. The humor might not sell, but if it gets a bunch of boys standing around reading jokes to one another you've at least got them comfortable with the idea of hanging out in a bookstore.
Programs: Author events, naturally, but what about book talks by athletes, politicians, noted professionals who aren't there to promote themselves but to promote a book they believe in? Pull a local celebrity boys know and care about and invite them to do a short talk and Q&A about a particular book. Beats a poster in the library showing Someone Famous stiffly holding an obvious book and trying to make it sell as cool to read.
If near a high school, have "lunch specials" where books are on sale only during that time w/ ID. Be sure you have made contact with the teachers at the school to know what sort of books they're using or recommending in classes and to use them to get the word out that they can get their books there cheaper. Get them into the habit.
Staff: They need to be mixed in age and gender. That's a hard thing, but the idea is to get them used to both coming to a bookstore AND being comfortable around sales people of all stripes. They'll need to know their stuff, stay on top of trends as well as books, and have a good rapport with teens, teen boys, and the parents who don't understand them. Missionary saints with a zeal for getting boys to read.
You'll also need at least a handful of teens on staff (weekend shifts) to give the place cred and bring in business. If a kid won't work there why would a kid want to visit it?
Other ideas: Custom merchandise, designed by teenage customers. Small things like limited edition buttons, chap books and mini comics, stickers for their skateboards, and so on. The more sarcastic and/or edgy the better. Gets the word out cheap, and if they're involved so much he better.
Provide "personal shopper" service for boys to help them purchase books for family members. They might know their parents or sibling like books but haven't a clue what to get them. Offer the service year-round for birthdays and whatnot but especially around the holidays when they need something, want to make a "good" choice and might need the extra hand holding. If they know it's there, and they see that it works, they'll come back for themselves later.
That's all got off the top of my head. I think in the end the retail environment needs to emphasize that books are part of the community, a community they can claim for themselves. Sure, if boys find a cool store to hang out in they might not be purchasing much, but when they do (or need to) they know where to go. Eventually they'll be lounged on a bean bag chair with friends and a book will catch their eye. They'll read a bit of it, put it back on the shelf, come back a few days later on their own and read some more, maybe even buy it.
One book. Sometimes that's all it takes.
Yeah, I hear you, David. This IS a fantasy. In contrast, your suggestions are too good to let float around cyberspace. Love the "lunch specials" and the custom merchandise and the DJ nights. You got a name for this fabulous hangout?
And I agree with you on the one book. Did you read the story about the policemen in Mexico reading One Hundred Days of Solitude in police code?
Well, if someone wants to run with it (and they'll give me credit, in-store credit for life would work) I had two versions of the same name. Beau Claire (French: Beautiful, Clear) and it's phonetic equivelant: The Book Lair.
Actually, those are for the teen-only store which would have to include a whole section on vampire books for girls, and not the one boys would be caught dead in. Boys say: Lame!
On the side of something more in the evangelical nature of "converting' boys to readers I thought The Pulp Pit (pulpit) which gives it a den-like name wrapped in a pun (boys like puns). Or for those up on their Lennon lyrics Spinal Crackers, though I suspect that could get taken the wrong way.
Names are funny because the right one carries itself beyond the physical. Name the store with a verb and you get all kinds of use out of it; say calling the store Ripped. Stickers that say Get Ripped (books) or guys going "I'll meet you at Ripped"... I think that's solid. I remember reading that Steve Jobs of Apple had a hard time getting the music industry initially to sign on to iTunes because they didn't know what it meant to rip a song; they thought it meant they were getting ripped off. And everyone knows what a rip it is when your parents ground you.
I'm just riffing here, spitballing if you will.
Whatever name it gets, the place has to sound cool before it even opens. Just like a book title. Sorry for taking so much space in your comments, but I appreciate your kind indulgence.
Dude, David is some kind of genius. Clearly he's been thinking about this a little... :) What great ideas.
I want to point out that guys usually have few problems hanging out in comic book stores (I know this from personal experience as one of the few girls who would even enter the comic store--though it's less male-dominated these days). Maybe one could model a guy-oriented bookstore after a comic store, while also trying to make it somewhat less geeky?
I keep thinking of one of the comic stores in my town, Krier's, which also sells gaming supplies, baseball/sports cards, and an array of junk food snacks (a key asset). It also has a number of tables and benches set up because they hold events like Magic tournaments and gaming extravanganzas and the like. Certain times of the evening and weekends, it's crammed with mostly boys.
All of which speaks to David's point that boys sometimes need a reason to hang out there with their friends and NOT with parents; OR they want to be able to go in, get what they need, and get out...(that's the way I usually am with shopping, so I can relate!)
I am sure that I rode in grocery carts as a little child, but most of the time, I was happier when out of the car, dancing through the aisles, jumping from tile to tile, making patterns, making noise.
I rode in a grocery cart again one memorable afternoon as a teenager.
I love the computer idea. Love the notion of doing a swipe and finding out everything I need to know about a book.
Please go do that one. I'm sure we'll all chip in.
LOTS of water fountains. And something bouncy like little trampolines so they can jump and read.
LOTS of water fountains. And something bouncy like little trampolines so they can jump and read.
I just stayed up until I finished writing a short piece about my grocery cart memory.
Thank you.