CCBC-Net Archives
Upcoming Topics on CCBC-Net
- Contemporary messages sorted: [ by date ] [ by subject ] [ by author ]
From: Thom Barthelmess <tbarthelmess>
Date: Tue, 19 Apr 2005 15:06:04 -0700
How does literature that addresses social and global issues--from racism to war, poverty to the environment--help children and teens make sense of the world?
Regarding Megan's question for the second half of April:
I am particularly interested in fiction that explores the minority experience, exposing prejudice, celebrating culture, and contextualizing both. Much has been said about the importance of offering kids reflections of themselves in the books they encounter. We know that a healthy sense-of-self depends, to some degree, upon feeling connected to the environment we inhabit. For kids living outside the mainstream, books can represent links to people and places that they understand, and, through the magic of literature, that understand them.
On a deeper and, to my mind, more significant level, books whose stories and characters live outside the norm offer something just as important to folks who live inside the norm. Here, to begin this point, is a story about me. Growing up gay, at least when I did it, meant that I wasn't going to be overwhelmed with positive reflections of life as a gay youngster. In retrospect, this wasn't an entirely bad thing. As a sort of silver lining, I developed a fairly large capacity to see myself everywhere, and relate to all sorts of characters and situations, connecting on the deepest, most universal level. For some, I expect, this isn't a simple accomplishment - for me, it became a sort of survival adaptation. I would never suggest that we reverse recent trends in publishing to impose what I see as an unintended benefit. Still, I feel that my interest in and enjoyment of all kinds of literature is fundamentally tied to the fact that, as a young person, I had to supply some of the links in the chain that bound me to the stories I consumed. I suppose that this is just a roundabout and too-personal way of celebrating the empathetic power of literature. Yes kids need to see themselves in the books they read. But I'm pleased to remember that there's as much to be gained by seeing someone else, too.
For a while now we've seen big growth in the kinds of subjects that find their way into children's books. I'm terribly encouraged to see a recent increase in the perspectives authors use to approach these subjects. Russell Freedman's THE VOICE THAT CHALLENGED A NATION looks at the struggle for civil rights from the point of view of a reluctant participant. SONNY'S HOUSE OF SPIES, George Ella Lyon's wondrous novel, focuses a lens not just on homosexuality, but on homophobia, and reveals some painful, human truths about collateral heartache. In BECOMING NAOMI LEON, Pam Munoz Ryan gives us multifaceted, wheel-chair-bound Owen, whose disability is presented as a message-free matter of fact. Little by little the breadth of human experience expressed in books for kids is spilling out of conventional boundaries. That's good. In a world increasingly dependent on the generosity of pluralism, a generation of extrapolative young people might be just the thing.
My $.02.
Thom Barthelmess Spokane County Library District
Received on Tue 19 Apr 2005 05:06:04 PM CDT
Date: Tue, 19 Apr 2005 15:06:04 -0700
How does literature that addresses social and global issues--from racism to war, poverty to the environment--help children and teens make sense of the world?
Regarding Megan's question for the second half of April:
I am particularly interested in fiction that explores the minority experience, exposing prejudice, celebrating culture, and contextualizing both. Much has been said about the importance of offering kids reflections of themselves in the books they encounter. We know that a healthy sense-of-self depends, to some degree, upon feeling connected to the environment we inhabit. For kids living outside the mainstream, books can represent links to people and places that they understand, and, through the magic of literature, that understand them.
On a deeper and, to my mind, more significant level, books whose stories and characters live outside the norm offer something just as important to folks who live inside the norm. Here, to begin this point, is a story about me. Growing up gay, at least when I did it, meant that I wasn't going to be overwhelmed with positive reflections of life as a gay youngster. In retrospect, this wasn't an entirely bad thing. As a sort of silver lining, I developed a fairly large capacity to see myself everywhere, and relate to all sorts of characters and situations, connecting on the deepest, most universal level. For some, I expect, this isn't a simple accomplishment - for me, it became a sort of survival adaptation. I would never suggest that we reverse recent trends in publishing to impose what I see as an unintended benefit. Still, I feel that my interest in and enjoyment of all kinds of literature is fundamentally tied to the fact that, as a young person, I had to supply some of the links in the chain that bound me to the stories I consumed. I suppose that this is just a roundabout and too-personal way of celebrating the empathetic power of literature. Yes kids need to see themselves in the books they read. But I'm pleased to remember that there's as much to be gained by seeing someone else, too.
For a while now we've seen big growth in the kinds of subjects that find their way into children's books. I'm terribly encouraged to see a recent increase in the perspectives authors use to approach these subjects. Russell Freedman's THE VOICE THAT CHALLENGED A NATION looks at the struggle for civil rights from the point of view of a reluctant participant. SONNY'S HOUSE OF SPIES, George Ella Lyon's wondrous novel, focuses a lens not just on homosexuality, but on homophobia, and reveals some painful, human truths about collateral heartache. In BECOMING NAOMI LEON, Pam Munoz Ryan gives us multifaceted, wheel-chair-bound Owen, whose disability is presented as a message-free matter of fact. Little by little the breadth of human experience expressed in books for kids is spilling out of conventional boundaries. That's good. In a world increasingly dependent on the generosity of pluralism, a generation of extrapolative young people might be just the thing.
My $.02.
Thom Barthelmess Spokane County Library District
Received on Tue 19 Apr 2005 05:06:04 PM CDT
