It has been a landmark year in children's literature. I don't mean the calendar year of 2016. I mean the year marked by August 4th, 2015 and August 4th, 2016, where depictions of African Americans in two picture books and one young adult novel were the subject of conversations that prompted responses from their creators, editors, or publishers.
This timeline is just the key moments. Elsewhere I've curated links to discussions of A Fine Dessert and A Birthday Cake for George Washington. Edith Campbell has links to discussions of When We Was Fierce.
August 4th, 2015
Elisa Gall, librarian, posted her concerns about problems in A Fine Dessert.
November 1st, 2015
Emily Jenkins, the author of A Fine Dessert issued an apology.
January 4, 2016
Vicky Smith, editor at Kirkus, pointed to the forthcoming A Birthday Cake for George Washington.
January 17, 2016
Scholastic, publisher of A Birthday Cake for George Washington, announced they were stopping the distribution of the book and that people could get a refund for it if they'd already purchased it.
July 21, 2016
KT Horning, director of the Cooperative Children's Book Center at the University of Wisconsin, gave a lecture in School Library Journal's summer course designed to increase their reviewers skills in recognizing problematic depictions. In it she spoke at length about When We Was Fierce.
August 4th, 2016
Kelly, an editor at Book Riot, tweeted that she'd received an email from Candlewick (publisher of When We Was Fierce) indicating that the book, scheduled for release on August 9th, was being postponed.
I attribute this year to the power of social media. With its many platforms for reaching a wider audience than was possible before, more people are reading, listening--or rather, hearing--and responding. I hope this marks lasting change. We've been here before, many times. In the 1960s, for example, the people at the Council on Interracial Books for Children, pushed publishers very hard. What we've seen in this past year, however, is unprecedented, and I believe it speaks to the power of speaking back to misrepresentations.
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Blog: American Indians in Children's Literature (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
JacketFlap tags: When We Was Fierce, A Fine Dessert, A Birthday Cake for George Washington, Add a tag
Blog: American Indians in Children's Literature (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
JacketFlap tags: A Fine Dessert, A Cake for George Washington, Smiling Slaves, Simon Ortiz, the people shall continue, Smiling Indians, Add a tag
Back in November or December, I started to hear that people in children's literature were wondering what we (by we, I mean people who objected to the treatment of slavery in A Fine Dessert) would say about the smiling slaves in a book due out this year. That book, A Birthday Cake for George Washington, is out now.
It felt, then and now, too, like the people who think A Fine Dessert is ok were waiting to pounce on us. The line of reasoning is this: if the smiling slaves in A Fine Dessert were not ok, then, the smiling slaves in A Birthday Cake for George can't be ok, either. It seemed--and seems--that a test is being put forth. If we don't slam A Birthday Cake, then, our critiques of A Fine Dessert can be ignored.
That situation is disgusting.
A predominantly white institution filled with predominantly white people with hundreds of years of power to determine what gets published is waiting to pounce on people of color if they don't pounce on other people of color.
I ordered A Birthday Cake for George today. I'll study it. I may--or I may not--write about it.
What I want to focus on right now is power and the investment in that white narrative of the US and its history.
Smiling slaves in picture books that, in some way, depict slavery are a parallel to the smiling Indians in picture books set in colonial periods. Those smiles sell. They tell kids things weren't all that bad for those who lived in slavery or those whose communities were being attacked and decimated by those who wanted their land--in many instances--so they could turn those lands into plantations of... smiling slaves.
People in the US are so determined to ignore the ugly history of the US that they churn out narratives that give kids a rosy picture of US history.
Some of you may recall a post here a few years ago, written by a 5th grade girl named Taylor: "Do you mean all those Thanksgiving worksheets we had to color every year with all those smiling Indians were wrong?"
I took a quick look this morning. It was easy to find smiling Indians in picture books for young children. Here's covers of two recent books:
That expectation that we have to throw the team that did A Cake for George Washington under the bus is (saying again) disgusting. Do Native and POC mess up? Yes, we do. We're human beings. Do we want Native and POC who create children's books to do right by our histories? Of course.
The fact is, we're peoples who've been through hell, and survived. Persisted. Indeed, we've thrived in spite of all that got--and gets--thrown our way time and time again.
In whatever ways we choose to write or speak about A Cake for George Washington, I think we'll be doing so from a space of care for each other, because publishing (and Hollywood, too) aren't all that welcoming of the things we want to give to children. Native and POC are, collectively, at a disadvantage. We face difficult decisions at every turn. Native actors need exposure so they can build profiles that give them power to impact what they do the next time, and what those behind them can do, too. Native writers and POC are in that same position. The stakes are high--no matter what one decides to do. Those stakes aren't necessarily the same for white actors, writers, and illustrators.
One of the most important children's books I've read is Simon Ortiz's The People Shall Continue. It is about working together so that we all continue, as people who care about each other. With that in mind, I think the ways that we respond and write about A Cake for George Washington may disappoint those who are waiting for our responses.
Blog: A Fuse #8 Production (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
JacketFlap tags: virality, A Fine Dessert, Let the whacking of Betsy begin!, Uncategorized, Add a tag
Friends, Romans, Countrymen. Lend me your ears. I come to discuss A Fine Dessert, not to praise it or denigrate it. Not to really talk much about the book itself at all except as a recent phenomenon. A phenomenon unique to our particular day and age and that remains relatively mysterious, despite (or perhaps because of) the thousands of people who have found themselves wrapped up in the discussions that surround it. Discussions that, insofar as I can tell, show no signs of coming to a halt.
Now if there’s anything that bugs me online it’s when blogs, Twitter accounts, and Facebook feeds talk about an issue without bringing up to speed those folks who have remained ignorant of the discussion from the start. So in the event that you get ALL your children’s book news through my particular blog (an act that I do not recommend as my weekly reporting skills are spotty at best), a quick summary that I will call “The Tale of A Fine Dessert”.
Actually, I’m not entirely certain where the A Fine Dessert controversy first began. Maybe it was on August 4th when a blog called Trybrary wrote a piece that brought up Illinois librarian Elisa’s concerns with how the book chose to depict the slaves in the story. This, in turn, was mentioned by Calling Caldecott and subsequent Twitter discussions seem to be dated to late October at this point. What sets the discussion apart from many others about issues in children’s books is that it didn’t stay relegated to the world of librarians, children’s book bloggers, teachers, and author/illustrators. My first clue that the talks had gone viral occurred when NPR’s Codeswitch picked up on the story on October 30th. The New York Times followed suit soon thereafter on November 6th, but if you think the discussion would stop there how wrong you are. Daniel José Older uploaded a video of himself on a panel criticizing the book in early November. Since then it’s pretty much continued to be mentioned online, the most recent discussion happening when Sam Juliano wrote about it on his site Wonders in the Dark (185 comments and rising as of this post). And I think it is safe to say that Sam’s will not be the last place the book is discussed this year or next.
So here is my question to you today: Of all the books that are considered controversial or debatable in terms of content and quality, why has the A Fine Dessert debate exploded while others have stayed relatively under the radar? Lest you harbor the notion that the book is extraordinary in its content, some of the issues surrounding the book were contained in other 2015 picture books depicting slavery and will continue to exist in 2016. In 2015 alone I’ve heard people debating problematic elements (specifically involving race) in books like Sometimes I Feel Like a Fox, An Invisible Thread, Home, and Over the Hills and Far Away, just to name a small sampling. Yet nothing has touched a nerve like A Fine Dessert. Why?
If social scientists could figure out what makes a topic viral online we’d all be living in a very different world. As it is, this could just be the case of the book coming out at precisely the moment when discussions about slavery have actually been on our newscasts at night. Recall that it was as recent as late June / early July of this year that debates raged over whether or not the Confederate flag would be removed from the South Carolina House. But even that doesn’t explain the book discussions’ continual presence online.
Perhaps the perpetual interest isn’t just due to our increased awareness of depictions of all races, genders, religions, and sexuality in our books for youth. A Fine Dessert is a picture book and traditionally picture books are debated for not just their writing but their images as well. People who challenge books have known this for years. You can object to content for some books (like And Tango Makes Three, The Lorax, Where the Wild Things Are, etc.), and to the images in others (The Rabbits’ Wedding, Sylvester and the Magic Pebble, In the Night Kitchen, etc.). If both words and pictures are deemed offensive in some way then the book has more of a chance of offending a wider swath of people. This is why the Frequently Challenged Books list of ALA always has plenty of slots filled with graphic novels. Images carry a different power than words.
In the end, the answer may be a simple one. Perhaps A Fine Dessert is so heavily debated because unlike some of the other 2015 books I’ve mentioned, it has supporters that are as outspoken as its critics. Sometimes when people discuss a book there will be a sense that one side or another has “won” the debate regarding the quality of the title. What’s remarkable about this book is that the debate does not feel one-sided. And just as one side quiets down, the other side speaks right up again.
To be continued? I think that goes without saying.
Blog: American Indians in Children's Literature (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
JacketFlap tags: Daniel Jose Older, A Fine Dessert, Social Media, Sophie Blackall, Walter Dean Myers, Sean Qualls, Add a tag
This has been quite the year in children's literature--and I say that in a good way. Some people are decrying social media, but I celebrate it. It is making a difference.
Some say social media that questions books like A Fine Dessert is unfairly attacking the author and illustrator. Some say the creators of the book are being publicly shamed. Roger Sutton said that about the change made to Amazing Grace.
In his new book, Poet: The Remarkable Story of George Moses Horton, Don Tate's note in the back is important. He writes:
When I first began illustrating children's books, I decided that I would not work on stories about slavery. I had many reasons, one being that I wanted to focus on contemporary stories relevant to young readers today. In all honesty, though, what I wasn't admitting to myself was that I was ashamed of the topic.
I grew up in a small town in the Midwest in the 1970s and 1980s. At school, I was usually the only brown face in a sea of white. It seemed to me that whenever the topic of black history came up, it was always in relation to slavery, about how black people were once the property of white people--no more human than a horse or a wheelbarrow. Sometimes white kids snickered and made jokes about the topic. Sometimes, black kids did too.A wash of emotion floods over me each time I read Don's words. I've heard similar things from Native kids and teens, too. Don takes up the topic of slavery in Poet. But he does it with a full understanding of what it feels like to be a black child reading a book that depicts slavery.
I have no doubt that Emily Jenkins and Sophie Blackall meant well when they created A Fine Dessert, but they and the community of people who worked with them on the book created it from within a space that doesn't have what Don has. The outcome, as most of us know, has caused an enormous discussion on social media.
I have empathy for Jenkins and Blackall, but as my larger text above makes clear, my empathy is with children. Because of social media, Jenkins, Blackall, and anyone who is following this discussion, have heard from people they don't normally hear from. People who aren't in their community. In this case, African American parents who are stunned with the depiction of slavery in A Fine Dessert. Some of the response has been blistering in its anger. Jenkins has heard them, and subsequently, apologized.
Thus far, Blackall has not. She says she's heard them, but what does it mean when you hear someone--with reason or with fury--tell you that you've hurt them, but all you do is rebut what they say? I don't know what to call that response.
She and people who are empathizing with her are decrying social media, but I celebrate what it is doing right now in children's literature. Because of it, I have a blog that people read. They link to it. They reference it. They assign it. They share it. The outcome? People write to tell me what they're learning.
Because of social media, we can all watch a video of a panel discussion that took place last weekend. A discussion--I think--that has never happened before at a conference. I'm asking my colleagues who research children's literature. Nobody recalls one like this before.
Sean Qualls, Sophie Blackall, and Daniel Jose Older spoke on a panel titled "Lens of Diversity: It is Not All in What You See" at the New York City School Library System's 26th annual conference. I'm studying the video and will have more to say about it later, but for now, watch it yourself.
I'll be back with a post about it later. For now I've got to finish preparing a talk I'll be giving for Chicago Public Library tomorrow. I was shaken to the core as I watched the video. Shaken by the denial of Qualls and Blackall, and shaken by the honesty of Older. He is using social media to effect change. Change is happening. I know that change is happening because of the email I get from gatekeepers.
I think we're in the crisis that Walter Dean Myers anticipated in 1986 in his New York Times article, I Thought We Would Actually Revolutionize the Industry. He wrote about how the 1970s looked like a turning point:
...the quality of the books written by blacks in the 70's was so outstanding that I actually thought we would revolutionize the industry, bringing to it a quality and dimension that would raise the standard for all children's books. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. No sooner had all the pieces conducive to the publishing of more books on the black experience come together than they started falling apart.
This time round, I think things will not fall apart. Social media is driving change in children's literature. And so, I celebrate it.
Blog: American Indians in Children's Literature (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
JacketFlap tags: Emily Jenkins, Picture Me Gone, A Fine Dessert, All Our Pretty Songs, Saray McCarry, Meg Rosoff, Add a tag
On October 31, 2015, at 12:06 PM, author Meg Rosoff posted a comment to Roger Sutton's Facebook wall (he is the editor at Horn Book) that said "Debbie Reese is at it again." I wondered what "at it" meant and asked her, there, what she meant. (She didn't reply.)
Roger's post at Facebook is, essentially, a link to his editorial at the Horn Book website. Because the editorial is about diversity and meaningful inclusion of characters who are from marginalized populations, I assumed Rosoff's "at it again" was a reference to my question about her use of the word "squaw" in her book Picture Me Gone, and a reference to more recent critiques I've done of The Hired Girl and A Fine Dessert. (She subsequently wrote about critiques of those two books.)
Rosoff did not reply to my question. She did continue to participate in the ensuing discussion, however. I don't know if she didn't see that I was in it, too, asking her a question, or if she was deliberately ignoring me. In her next comment she said, in part
Doesn't anyone find it odd that so many of the books Debby Reese and her followers attack for "micro and macro aggressions" are on the prize lists for best books of the year? [...] Funny how much time we YA writers spend in schools talking to kids about the corrosive effects of bullying, and then to discover the worst bullies of all in our own community. The strongest backlash, by the way, is coming from editors. Who tell me they are backing away from publishing books featuring diversity characters/stories in order to avoid attacks for "micro and macro aggression." That's a result, then.A short while later, Roger wrote that he was not "joining in the debate" because he counts me and Rosoff as professional friends and valued colleagues. She replied to him:
Your professional friend and valued colleague has accused me repeatedly in public of being a racist and an enemy of diversity. I can wait very patiently for an apology on that score.I was surprised by her comment. I have not accused her of being a racist. Nor have I called her an enemy of diversity. I was curious, however, to know why she thinks I did.
As that thread continued, I began to see her commenting elsewhere. I was surprised to see her referencing me so much saying things like "I know all about Debbie. She loves calling people racist" and "There are some very toxic so-called diversity advocates out there." I saw that she coined a phrase using my name: "The Debbie Reese Crimes Against Diversity stormtroopers." (Note: I was intrigued by what she was doing, and glad she was using my name, because it would lead people to my work. See, too, my post on her use of "stormtroopers.")
And then I saw this:
The extraordinary woman was the one who proved I was a racist by the use of the word 'squaw' in one of my books -- by an 11 year old English child. I had to look it up to realise it is sometimes (not always) considered insulting -- particularly if you're mainly reading to be insulted. I've written 600,000 or so words in my career and that's what she's taken out of it. Impressive.Obviously, I am that extraordinary woman. Rosoff doesn't know, however, that when I picked up her book, Picture Me Gone, it was to read for pleasure. I primarily read books that are specific to my area of scholarship and expertise (depictions of Native people) but I read for pleasure, too, and usually seek out books that have done well. That's why I was reading Picture Me Gone. I was into it, too, but then, I got to this part:
A painting in a big gold frame of an Indian squaw kneeling by a fire needs dusting.I stopped reading. The enjoyment, for me, was over. I set the book aside. I didn't blog or tweet about her use of "squaw." I just stopped reading it.
When she jumped onto Edi Campbell's Facebook page on October 10th, I remembered her book. What she said on Edi's page prompted a lot of people to write to her on Facebook and on Twitter. In response, she wrote:
God, twitter makes me laugh. Book I'm finishing now for Mal Peet is about a black kid in love w/a native American woman 15 years his senior.I was angry at her for what she said on Edi's page, especially because Edi's post was about Large Fears by Myles E. Johnson and Kendrick Daye, a book that is about a queer black boy. Edi Campbell, Myles E. Johnson, and Kendrick Daye are three people trying to do some good in the world, shining bright lights on populations that are misrepresented and underrepresented in children's literature.
And there was Meg, like a ton of bricks, out of the blue. From that angry space, I replied to her tweet by asking her if she was going to use "squaw" to refer to that "native American woman." Here's a screen cap:
She didn't reply, but as her comment above indicates, she did not know the word is "sometimes (not always) considered insulting." As she said, she's written 600,000 words in her career, and she's impressed that out of all those words, I'm choosing to focus on one of those 600,000 words.
She is right. I am focusing on that one word as symbolic of the ongoing misrepresentation of Native peoples in children's and young adult literature. But I did not call her racist there, or anywhere.
My focus is on Meg Rosoff's response to being questioned. Her response about the word admits that she didn't know it is problematic. There is a way to respond to ones ignorance that can move children's literature forward in its depictions of those who have been omitted and misrepresented for hundreds of years, but Rosoff's dismissal and subsequent comments disparaging me are not the way to move forward.
Her response stands in sharp contrast to the response Emily Jenkins posted yesterday, in response to criticisms about the depictions of slavery in A Fine Dessert, and it stands in sharp contrast to Sarah McCarry's response to my question about her use of "totem pole" in All Our Pretty Songs.
Some people are rising to defend Rosoff. Some are defending Jenkins and Blackall, too. Some of them know Rosoff, Jenkins, and Blackall personally, and feel--as they should--empathy for people who they feel fondly towards.
But!
Teachers and librarians are forgetting that their primary responsibility as educators is not to an author or illustrator they like, but to the children in their classrooms. As parents, we trust you to do right by our children and what they learn from you. What you give them is something they will carry with them as they grow up.
The larger point of what I'm saying is that people of marginalized populations are using social media to ask questions. We are using social media to shine lights on problems that our children grandchildren are confronted with everyday, in and out of the classroom.
The country is growing more diverse with each minute. What you do in the classroom matters to the future of our country. That cliched bumper sticker that teachers touch the future is more than a cliche. It is a fact. Expand how you think about that future. We're all here, talking to you, and hoping you'll pick up the lights we shine, too, and do right by the children you teach.
Blog: American Indians in Children's Literature (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
JacketFlap tags: A Fine Dessert, not recommended, Sophie Blackall, Emily Jenkins, Add a tag
Some months ago, a reader asked me if I'd seen A Fine Dessert: Four Centuries, Four Families, One Delicious Treat written by Emily Jenkins, and illustrated by Sophie Blackall. The person who wrote to me knows of my interest in diversity and the ways that Native peoples are depicted---and omitted--in children's books. Here's the synopsis:
In this fascinating picture book, four families, in four different cities, over four centuries, make the same delicious dessert: blackberry fool. This richly detailed book ingeniously shows how food, technology, and even families have changed throughout American history.
In 1710, a girl and her mother in Lyme, England, prepare a blackberry fool, picking wild blackberries and beating cream from their cow with a bundle of twigs. The same dessert is prepared by a slave girl and her mother in 1810 in Charleston, South Carolina; by a mother and daughter in 1910 in Boston; and finally by a boy and his father in present-day San Diego.
Kids and parents alike will delight in discovering the differences in daily life over the course of four centuries.
Includes a recipe for blackberry fool and notes from the author and illustrator about their research.
Published this year, A Fine Dessert arrives in the midst of national discussions of diversity. It is an excellent example of the status quo in children's literature, in which white privilege drives the creation, production, and review of children's and young adult literature.
A Fine Dessert is written and illustrated by white people.
A Fine Dessert is published by a major publisher.
A Fine Dessert, however, isn't an "all white book."
As the synopsis indicates, the author and illustrator included people who are not white. How they did that is deeply problematic. In recent days, Jenkins and Blackall have not been able to ignore the words of those who find their book outrageous.
The Horn Book's "Calling Caldecott" blog launched a discussion of A Fine Dessert on September 23, 2015. Robin Smith opened the discussion with an overview of the book that includes this paragraph:
Blackall and Jenkins could have avoided the challenge of setting the 1810 scene on the plantation. They did not. They could have simply chosen a family without slaves or servants, but they did not. They clearly approached the situation thoughtfully. The enslaved daughter and mother’s humanity is secure as they work together and enjoy each other, despite their lack of freedom. In the 1810 table scene — the only time in the book when the cooks don’t eat the dessert at the dinner table — each of the African American characters depicted has a serious look on his or her face (i.e., there is no indication that anyone is enjoying their work or, by extension, their enslavement) while the children in the family attend to their parents and siblings or are distracted by a book or a kitty under the table. In its own way, the little nod to books and pets is also a nod to the privilege of the white children. They don’t have to serve. They don’t have to fan the family. They get to eat. Hidden in the closet, the African American mother and daughter have a rare relaxed moment away from the eyes of their enslavers.
Smith also wrote:
Since I have already read some online talk about the plantation section, I assume the committee will have, too. I know that we all bring our own perspectives to reading illustrations, and I trust that the committee will have a serious, open discussion about the whole book and see that the choice to include it was a deliberate one. Perhaps the committee will wish Blackall had set her second vignette in a different place, perhaps not. Will it work for the committee? I have no idea. But I do know that a large committee means there will be all sorts of readers and evaluators, with good discussions.
The "online talk" at that time was a blog post by Elissa Gall, a librarian who titled her blog post A Fine Dessert: Sweet Intentions, Sour Aftertaste. On August 4th, she wrote that:
It’s clear that the creators had noble goals, and a criticism of their work is just that—a criticism of the book (not them). But despite the best of intentions, the result is a narrative in which readers see slavery as unpleasant, but not horrendous.The Calling Caldecott discussed continued for some time. On October 4th, Jennifer wrote:
Based on the illustrations, there are too many implications that should make us as adults squirm about what we might be telling children about slavery:1) That slave families were intact and allowed to stay together.2) Based on the smiling faces of the young girl…that being enslaved is fun and or pleasurable.3) That to disobey as a slave was fun (or to use the reviewers word “relaxed”) moment of whimsy rather than a dangerous act that could provoke severe and painful physical punishment.On October 5th, Lolly Robinson wrote that:
... the text and art in the book need to be appropriate for the largest common denominator, namely that younger audience.Robinson's words about audience are the key to what is wrong with this book. I'll say more about that shortly.
On October 23rd, Sophie Blackall--the illustrator--joined the discussion at Calling Caldecott, saying she had decided to respond to the criticism of how she depicted slavery. She linked to her blog, where she wrote:
Reading the negative comments, I wonder whether the only way to avoid offense would have been to leave slavery out altogether, but sharing this book in school visits has been an extraordinary experience and the positive responses from teachers and librarians and parents have been overwhelming. I learn from every book I make, and from discussions like these. I hope A Fine Dessert continues to engage readers and encourage rewarding, thought provoking discussions between children and their grown ups.In that comment, Blackall talks about school visits and positive responses from teachers, and librarians, and parents. My guess? Those are schools with primarily white students, white teachers, white librarians, and white parents. I bring that up because, while Blackall doesn't say so, my hunch is she's getting that response, in person, from white people. That positive response parallels what I see online. It is white women that are praising this book. In some instances, there's a nod to the concerns about the depiction of slavery, but the overwhelming love they express is centered on the dessert that is made by four families, in four centuries.
Praise is not the response from Black women and mothers.
On October 25 at 12:37, fangirlJeanne's, who identifies as a Polynesian woman of color, sent a tweet that got right to the heart of the matter. She wrote that "Authors who assume a young reader doesn't know about slavery or racism in America is writing for a white reader." In a series of tweets, she wrote about the life of children of color. With those tweets, she demonstrated that the notion of "age appropriate" content is specific to white children, who aren't amongst the demographics that experienced--and experience--bullying and bigoted attacks.
At 1:00, she shared an image of the four pages in the book that Sophie Blackall has in her blog post, saying that these illustrations make her sick and sad:
The conversation about the book grew larger. Some people went to Blackall's post and submitted comments that she subsequently deleted. The explanation for why she deleted them rang hollow. And then sometime in the last 24 hours, she added this to the original blog post:
This blog has been edited to add the following:
It seems that very few people commenting on the issue of slavery in A Fine Dessert have read the actual book. The section which takes place in 1810 is part of a whole, which explores the history of women in the kitchen and the development of food technology amongst other things. A Fine Dessert culminates in 2010 with the scene of a joyous, diverse, inclusive community feast. I urge you to read the whole book. Thank you.Clearly, Blackall is taking solace in Betsy Bird's You Have to Read the Book. Aligning herself with that post is a mistake made in haste, or--if she read and thought about the thread--a decision to ignore the voices of people of color who are objecting to her depiction of slavery.
My hope is that the people on the Caldecott committee are reading the conversations about the book and that they will subsequently choose not to name A Fine Dessert as deserving of Caldecott recognition.
The book is going to do well, regardless of the committee decision. Yesterday, the New York Times named it as one of the best illustrated books of 2015. That, too, speaks to a whiteness that must be examined.
In this post, I've focused on the depictions of slavery. I've not said anything about Native people and our absence from Jenkins and Blackall's historical narrative. Honestly, given what they did with slavery, I'm glad of that omission. I'm reminded of Taylor, a fifth grader who was learning to think critically about Thanksgiving. She wrote "Do you mean all those Thanksgiving worksheets we had to color every year with all those smiling Indians were wrong?" The American settings for A Fine Dessert, of course, are all on land that belonged to Native peoples who were forcibly removed and killed to make way for Americans to raise their families, to pursue their American dreams.
I imagine, as I point to that omission, that people will argue that it isn't fair to judge a book for what it leaves out, for what it didn't intend to do. That "not fair" response, however, is the problem. It tells people who object to being left out or misrepresented, to go away. This book is "not for you."
This particular book is symbolic of all that is wrong with children's literature right now. A Fine Dessert provides children with a glossy view of this country and its history that is, in short, a lie about that history. We should hold those who create literature for children to a standard that doesn't lie to them.
What can we do about that lie? Use it, as Elissa Gall suggested in her blog post, when she wrote:
The only time I’d imagine selecting this book for classroom use would be to evaluate it collaboratively using an anti-bias lens (like the guide by Louise Derman-Sparks found here).
Blog: American Indians in Children's Literature (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
JacketFlap tags: Debbie's lectures, The Hired Girl, Walk On Earth a Stranger, Picture Me Gone, A Fine Dessert, Della Nohl, Omar Poler, Meg Rosoff, Best Books, Betsy Bird, Chicago Public Library, Add a tag
I am pleased to be the keynote speaker at the Chicago Public Library, Edgewater Branch, on November 7, 2015, as the library system there kicks off its programming for Native American Heritage Month.
Della Nohl took that photo of me a few years ago when we were both at a Culture Keepers gathering. Do hit that link and see what Culture Keepers is all about. You'll learn a lot about working with Native people and you'll come to know people like Omar Poler of the Sokaogon Chippewa Tribe of Wisconsin, who was named as one of Library Journal's Movers and Shakers in 2014. And, check out Della Nohl's page. Right now (October 28, 2015) the photo at the top of her page is of the Indian Agency House in Portage, Wisconsin.
Knowing about Culture Keepers and knowing about Della Nohl's work is part of my world. Earlier today, I submitted a comment to Betsy Bird's blog post at School Library Journal. There, she is making the argument that people have to read a book in its entirety to say anything meaningful about the book. I disagree.
I don't, for example, need to read every page of Meg Rosoff's Picture Me Gone to say I don't recommend it. My reason? I got to the page where her main character is in a coffee shop with unusual decor. As her character looks around, she describes what she sees, including:
A painting in a big gold frame of an Indian squaw kneeling by a fire needs dusting.Rosoff's Picture Me Gone is not about Native people. It is, however, a best selling book, and part of what I do is read some of those bestsellers so that I stay abreast of the happenings, so to speak, in children's and young adult literature.
Rosoff used "Indian squaw" -- a term most people view as offensive. Did Rosoff know it is offensive? Did Rosoff's editor know it is offensive? My guess is no. I speculate that they don't know because they don't step over into the world that I am in.
So many Native children don't do well in school. Might they do better if the textbooks they read were ones that honestly presented their nations, past and present? Might they do better if they didn't come across terms like "squaw" as a matter of course, in the literature they read?
As I write this blog post and think about what I'll say in Chicago, I'm thinking about Rosoff's book, and I'm thinking about troubling books that are being discussed as possible winners of prestigious children's literature awards: Laura Amy Schlitz's The Hired Girl and Emily Jenkins and Sophie Blackall's A Fine Dessert troubling. And Rae Carson's Walk On Earth a Stranger has, perhaps, some of the most damaging content that I've seen in a very long time. It was on the long list for the National Book Award.
I do--of course--know of some terrific books that accurately and beautiful present Native peoples, and I will share those, too, on November 7th. I shared some--for teen readers--in a column that went live a few hours ago at School Library Journal. And I shared even more, there, two years ago. Here's the graphics SLJ's team put together, using the book covers for the books I recommended in that column:
My guess is that people who come to my talk on the 7th will be people who care about Native peoples, our histories, our cultures, and our lives. They will likely want me to talk about good books. It isn't enough, however, to know about books that accurately portray who we are; people have to know the others, too, because in the publishing world, they take up a lot of space.
Please put this day of events on your calendar! Bring your friends! Step into my world, and help me bring others into it, too, so that the status quo changes... So that best selling writers and books deemed worthy of awards are not ones that denigrate Native people.
Below is the press release Chicago Public Library is sending out.
- Archery for Beginners
- Ehdrigohr: A Role-Playing Experience
- Create a Dreamcatcher
- Film Screenings
Lovely writing as usual, Betsy. You raise some excellent, germane questions.
As a gay man, I’ve always been fascinated by the myriad ways the LGBTQ community has been portrayed in children’s literature. Sometimes I’m appalled, sometimes I’m delighted – but I bring my own history and my own interpretations with me. My experience as a member of a sexual minority is not going to be even remotely like anyone else’s. It just isn’t. It is my own lived history that comes with its own very personal (and often painful) experiences.
Sometimes something I read rips open the hurtful parts of that history, and sometimes it doesn’t. I’m glad this happens, even when it hurts. It opens me up to experience and to reflection and healing. I love that literature can do this, even when it provokes an unsavory reaction from me.
And I think this is what much of the conversation around A Fine Dessert is really about: personal reactions to text and image. It’s the final image in the book, the huge dinner, that brought me to tears. How far we’ve come. And we still have so much work to do. A little love letter to looking to a bright, welcoming future – but we have to work for it.
Joe, in the first three paragraphs of your comment I need to substitute only three words to be able to say the identical same thing. “Gay to Jewish; LGBTQ to Jewish; sexual to religious”. At the core, human beings are so much more alike than different. We all want to feel respected and worthy; to feel accepted and like we belong.
Betsy, thanks so much for recapping the history and locations of this debate. I think it would be wonderful if social scientists were to study all of our remarks and help us understand the meaning of what we are saying.
Diversity has been a hot topic for many months and numerous books are mentioned as examples of what many find inappropriate. I think you are correct when you say A Fine Dessert has supporters who want to be heard. I fall into this category. In my case, I am expressing myself because USUALLY I agree with the critics, but in the case of .A Fine Dessert (and The Hired Girl) I do not. The issues discussed are extremely important to me. I just don’t feel those two books represent the issues.
Perhaps the discussion feels so intense and so important because it mirrors the turmoil many of us are feeling about the political divide and the importance of getting it “right” when each of us votes in November.
Thanks for being an objective voice in raising questions like this, Betsy. I have to say that I’m pretty sure that this particular controversy (as well as the one about The Hired Girl) has contributed directly to my worst blogging funk in 10 years. There’s just too much conflict – too much negativity. Too many people sure that they are right, and that other people are wrong. My nature is to retreat from that, and I think it’s contributing to me not wanting to blog at all. Of course that speaks more to my own internal flaws than to the issues at hand. But there you have it.
A natural reaction. In spite of my thesis here, I think that generally speaking everyone is pretty exhausted. Someone asked me not too long ago if this level of rage could maintain itself. It can’t, but I’m not sure what that means for books, online discussion, and blogging in general from here on in. The long term repercussions are as yet unknown. For my part I’m seeing good things come of all this, and bad things too. Time will tell.
I see an early presage of the controversy in PUBLISHERS WEEKLY’s review of A FINE DESSERT. The reviewer was obviously troubled by the depiction of slavery and felt that needed more context for young children. At the time, I interpreted that to mean a wish to shield young readers from being presented with the unfair fact of slavery at all. It’s possible that the reviewer meant the book didn’t show the enormity of slavery. Either way, that was a sign that the book would hit a sensitive nerve or two.
I’m not sure why discussions of some books reached a wider audience this year, while others didn’t. I do think, though, that the conversations about those specific books have been as much about the larger issues they exemplify as about their individual content.
I also can’t say I agree that this type of widespread criticism is a new, or recent development. If there’s frustration and anger, maybe part of it lies in the fact that these conversations are in fact old and relatively unchanging ones. (Though, it also seems like for some, the word “rage” gets applied no matter how criticism is framed and delivered.) There’s of course the history of the Council on Interracial Books for Children, for example, which heavily criticized many books that predominantly white gatekeepers had lauded:
http://collectingchildrensbooks.blogspot.com/2009/04/this-one-really-did-happen.html?m=1 http://www.jstor.org/stable/3042264?seq=1#page_scan_tab_contents http://www.jstor.org/stable/pdf/20193551.pdf?seq=1#page_scan_tab_contents
And within the larger context of children’s media, there’s a similarly long history of protest and critique. http://www.umbc.edu/cadvc/foralltheworld/section2/protest.php Debbie Reese has pointed to the long history of activism concerning representations of Native people, and there are histories for other groups as well.
Many people have been pointing out problems all along the way, in everything from academic studies to blog posts to newspaper articles to organized protests. I agree that critiques are finding traction in the present moment, as they have at other times in the past… and that for children’s books, social media has opened them up to a less insular audience (and maybe made it slightly less risky for some within the field to speak, too.) But, there was already plenty of critical discussion of books like Ghost Hawk in recent years, for example. I wonder if part of a recent change is in the perception (fear?) among some that people making critiques now have more power.
I absolutely agree that critical discussions of children’s books are by no means new. For example, I thought about mentioning the objections that surrounded Margot Zemach’s JAKE AND HONEYBUNCH GO TO HEAVEN back in 1987 (Roger can speak to that better than I, but it was QUITE a big deal back then). However, even when people were criticizing GHOST HAWK the conversation did not go “viral” as it were. Only people concerned every day with children’s literature were talking about it. Look at A FINE DESSERT in contrast. VH1’s website weighed in, for heaven’s sake. That kind of widespread discussion goes far beyond our little sphere, and I like to explore precisely why. Why this particular book when others have, arguably, more problems?
I’ve had your post, Betsy, in mind all week, trying to sort out some of my own thoughts on it. I want to think more about characterizing it as “two sides” because doing that makes it seem like two sides that are equal in their power to effect change/policy/etc. They aren’t equal. We all know that.
I want to reflect, for now, on the people who are pointing to the problems in A FINE DESSERT. I am one of them. You also note Daniel Jose Older. Though I haven’t met him in person, I do know that we, in our respective spaces, are active in protests. Our activism is online but also offline. I attend protests and have planned them, too, because of my life experiences.
I come at books like this A FINE DESSERT from a life characterized by assaults. The most frightening one was when I was pulled over and interrogated by a sheriff in Oklahoma. All the while, I was terrified that any “wrong” move or answer on my part could put my daughter (she was in the car watching all this) in a horrible situation.
I believe books like A FINE DESSERT have an impact on society. They let people feel like society is good, that things are behind us. Several people have pointed to the last page of the book, saying “how far we’ve come.” I have a different reaction. I see the people gathered around the table and I think about interracial couples I know–myself included–and the things we go through. The gathering at the table is a truth, but it is a truth hides other truths: of interracial couples who are pulled over by police (this happened to a friend) who think the black male is abducting the white female.
To characterize the response to A FINE DESSERT as two sides hides too much.
It reduces the lives that POC live to a happy picture that makes those who do NOT live that life feel a warmth that is not justified. A warmth that leads to complacency and/or a mindset that asks why we’re protesting. A mindset where the first response is to ask what the person being stopped by police did, rather than to look at the structures that make it possible for racial profiling to occur in the first place.
In his video, Daniel Jose Older said that a community of people was involved in the creation of that book.
Society is composed of lots of communities, where everyone in those communities wants to life a good life. That isn’t the reality for a lot of us. The depth and breadth of the response to A FINE DESSERT reflects the work we do and the lives we lead outside the pages of a book. I wish the larger community was one that would listen to us rather than try to refute what we contribute to this discussion. That constant refutation is exhausting. It is what led me to snipe to Sam Juliano, that I hoped he’d retire soon. I apologize, Sam, for saying that to you.
I’ll be thinking more about your post, Betsy. As my thoughts on it coalesce, I may be back here, or, I may write about this on my site.
I can’t believe the discussion around these books is being characterized as “rage.” Good grief I’ve been in more heated arguments over what pizza to order.