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RE: Bitterness and purity
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From: Jeanne Devlin <jmdevlin7_at_hotmail.com>
Date: Sun, 23 Feb 2014 10:14:14 -0600
I am so happy Tim Tingle's visit to the newly revived CCBC discussion loop happened, as it has led me to be able to eavesdrop on these wonderful exchanges. I realized many of you have known each other through this and other venues for a long time, but please know how much your knowledge means to us newbies.
Thank you for taking time to share your stories and backgrounds. And for being so candid.
It provides so much fodder for thought and for the process as we all move forward writing, editing and publishing more books.
The CCBC discussion loop may well be my new addiction ... and a new voice poking my conscious.
Jeanne The RoadRunner Press
Subject: Re: [ccbc-net] Bitterness and purity From: nsawicki_at_nyc.rr.com Date: Sat, 22 Feb 2014 20:42:29 -0500 CC: ccbc-net_at_lists.wisc.edu To: dreese.nambe_at_gmail.com
I am so very glad to hear this and I thank you very much for posting it. You know, of course, I have been made as hell at you…partly because I am older...and I know we, in the children's book community, have come far, and yes…there is much left to do. But I know , too, assumptions have been made and in by bones, assumptions are dangers because….. This is intensely personal but at age 71, what the hell…maybe "something" will be learned from it…. My observations are informed not only by my experience in children's book publishing but for the reasons that led me, at age twelve, to decide to become a children's book editor. My mother was Hawaiian/Portuguese who grew up on a sugar plantation in Hawaii before Hawaii became a state. She was one of nine children, from a strict Catholic family…life was centered on the plantation where there was a school, a church, etc. Until she married my father, who was stationed in Hawaii, she was chaperoned on every date she had. When I was six, my parents separated/divorced and because my mother loved the change in seasons, she took me and my younger sister to upstate New York, where my father's family lived. With $160.00/month in support we lived in an apartment in a black neighborhood…the only white family in my immediate neighborhood. My father's family was horrified…my mom thought nothing of it. Hawaii had a diverse population/culture…in my mother's family there was/is a great deal of inter-marrying…Japanese folk, for the most part….not at all unusual in the islands. The school I went to was integrated…the majority being poor white folk, with a large number of black kids. At school, I was dumped on by a number white kids because of our address…and because many of the black kids in my immediate neighborhood were good friends. I was confused…angry…my mother was even more confused. As a young kid, I was a ferocious reader…off to the library, where else. My mom, who had a seventh grade education, was also a reader…not of books but of the women's magazines of her day. When I was in the sixth grade, we moved to an all white poor neighborhood..the main branch of the wonderful public library was a block away…in many ways, it was my home away from a difficult home. However….the books in the children's section had nothing to do with me, with my life…summer camp? riding horses? I don't think so….I began borrowing books from the adult section…a no no without permission. The librarian wanted my mom to write a note for each book I wanted to borrow which I did for a while. It meant going to the library, deciding what I wanted to borrow, going back home, getting the note from my mom, and back to the library. I was furious…my mother finally wrote a note saying I could borrow anything I wanted. The disapproving librarian had no choice but to allow free reign. By then, I had been and was teased in school for having lived in a grass shack in Hawaii ( we lived there for awhile), teased for being a spik, or, an Indian ( as in, Native American) I looked to books for comfort, I wanted to read about kids like myself, and whose lives were like mine…there weren't any. One day, while browsing through the career section in the library, I came across a pamphlet about publishing…it was part of a series published by the U.S. government. There, I read about a career as a children's book editor. In a split second..that will be me. I will publish books for kids like myself…. There were two public high schools in the city which drew from a greater cross section of the population. There, I met Jewish kids for the first time, white middle/upper middle class wasps, etc. And I won every office for which I ran. My campaigns consisted of new friends but also friends from every neighborhood we had lived it, including the black neighborhood of long ago. We were the only diverse campaign in every election...which caused certain teachers, etc., to take notice. I put myself through college…worked during the day, and went to college at night, and during the summer. Moved here on April Fool's Day ( deliberate). $50.00 in my pocket, no job, and my share of the first month's rent ( a good friend from upstate lived here, and disliked her roommate). It took a year or so for me to realize my missionary zeal was up in smoke... Ursula Nordstrom, the genius of us all, was hard at work…publishing what was then called "realistic fiction,” a genre that included books by and about African Americans ( in those days called, Black Americans). Others followed...it was a fabulous/exciting time, especially for novelists. To the “point;” some time ago, in a discussion in this forum, a gifted writer…a minority... whom I have never met, did not call me “whitey” outright but the intent was clear, and referring to me indirectly, said in a sarcastic voice, that I knew nothing about prejudice or poverty; I said nothing. She ain’t the only one... And…when I was a young editor starting out... at St. Martin's Press,, my phone rang, I picked it up , and heard a woman ask in a snippy fashion…how old are you? How old are you? The woman laughed and said ..this is Ursula Nordstorm, is this Norma Jean? Pick me up off the floor… knew her from a distance…as in..psst psst…there is Ursula. She was looking for an editor, the head of a trade association had recommended me. I was excited/terrified…knew the Harper list well..got up and running on recent reviews of their books. Off I went….An uneasy interview…with all of the books Harper had published that I loved, every book she asked about was one in which I was not wonderfully enthusiastic… Finally she asked about Sounder which had just been awarded the Newbery..the author was accused of being racist..in the press, and in certain circles all hell had broken lose. My heart sank..I said, it doesn't work for me. She was snotty when she said…"Oh, you think it is racist, too." " No, I think it romanticizes poverty." I could have picked her off the floor. We had one of the best discussions I have ever had about a book in my entire life…Finally…If you could know in advance that it was going to win the Newbery, would you publish it? She knew I knew..I knew she knew…then…I'm sorry, I wouldn't. The expected news/note came soon enough but every single time we were in the same place, she headed my way for a quick hello, or a short chat. She was aware of what I published, etc…. I was very much a part of the sixties when passion, and a single minded desire to replace what was perceived as a morally bankrupt power structure reigned supreme. To this day, I feel blessed to have been in the thick of it…we were often right, we were often wrong….Assumptions are dangerous…our knowledge of each other on this list is superficial at best…let's be kind…let's be smart…let's be thoughtful… If we, who care enough to be part of this discussion, cannot in our bones, say and believe "we" are in this together…how can we begin to even hope to put a dent in a culture that is often deaf…Norma Jean
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Date: Sun, 23 Feb 2014 10:14:14 -0600
I am so happy Tim Tingle's visit to the newly revived CCBC discussion loop happened, as it has led me to be able to eavesdrop on these wonderful exchanges. I realized many of you have known each other through this and other venues for a long time, but please know how much your knowledge means to us newbies.
Thank you for taking time to share your stories and backgrounds. And for being so candid.
It provides so much fodder for thought and for the process as we all move forward writing, editing and publishing more books.
The CCBC discussion loop may well be my new addiction ... and a new voice poking my conscious.
Jeanne The RoadRunner Press
Subject: Re: [ccbc-net] Bitterness and purity From: nsawicki_at_nyc.rr.com Date: Sat, 22 Feb 2014 20:42:29 -0500 CC: ccbc-net_at_lists.wisc.edu To: dreese.nambe_at_gmail.com
I am so very glad to hear this and I thank you very much for posting it. You know, of course, I have been made as hell at you…partly because I am older...and I know we, in the children's book community, have come far, and yes…there is much left to do. But I know , too, assumptions have been made and in by bones, assumptions are dangers because….. This is intensely personal but at age 71, what the hell…maybe "something" will be learned from it…. My observations are informed not only by my experience in children's book publishing but for the reasons that led me, at age twelve, to decide to become a children's book editor. My mother was Hawaiian/Portuguese who grew up on a sugar plantation in Hawaii before Hawaii became a state. She was one of nine children, from a strict Catholic family…life was centered on the plantation where there was a school, a church, etc. Until she married my father, who was stationed in Hawaii, she was chaperoned on every date she had. When I was six, my parents separated/divorced and because my mother loved the change in seasons, she took me and my younger sister to upstate New York, where my father's family lived. With $160.00/month in support we lived in an apartment in a black neighborhood…the only white family in my immediate neighborhood. My father's family was horrified…my mom thought nothing of it. Hawaii had a diverse population/culture…in my mother's family there was/is a great deal of inter-marrying…Japanese folk, for the most part….not at all unusual in the islands. The school I went to was integrated…the majority being poor white folk, with a large number of black kids. At school, I was dumped on by a number white kids because of our address…and because many of the black kids in my immediate neighborhood were good friends. I was confused…angry…my mother was even more confused. As a young kid, I was a ferocious reader…off to the library, where else. My mom, who had a seventh grade education, was also a reader…not of books but of the women's magazines of her day. When I was in the sixth grade, we moved to an all white poor neighborhood..the main branch of the wonderful public library was a block away…in many ways, it was my home away from a difficult home. However….the books in the children's section had nothing to do with me, with my life…summer camp? riding horses? I don't think so….I began borrowing books from the adult section…a no no without permission. The librarian wanted my mom to write a note for each book I wanted to borrow which I did for a while. It meant going to the library, deciding what I wanted to borrow, going back home, getting the note from my mom, and back to the library. I was furious…my mother finally wrote a note saying I could borrow anything I wanted. The disapproving librarian had no choice but to allow free reign. By then, I had been and was teased in school for having lived in a grass shack in Hawaii ( we lived there for awhile), teased for being a spik, or, an Indian ( as in, Native American) I looked to books for comfort, I wanted to read about kids like myself, and whose lives were like mine…there weren't any. One day, while browsing through the career section in the library, I came across a pamphlet about publishing…it was part of a series published by the U.S. government. There, I read about a career as a children's book editor. In a split second..that will be me. I will publish books for kids like myself…. There were two public high schools in the city which drew from a greater cross section of the population. There, I met Jewish kids for the first time, white middle/upper middle class wasps, etc. And I won every office for which I ran. My campaigns consisted of new friends but also friends from every neighborhood we had lived it, including the black neighborhood of long ago. We were the only diverse campaign in every election...which caused certain teachers, etc., to take notice. I put myself through college…worked during the day, and went to college at night, and during the summer. Moved here on April Fool's Day ( deliberate). $50.00 in my pocket, no job, and my share of the first month's rent ( a good friend from upstate lived here, and disliked her roommate). It took a year or so for me to realize my missionary zeal was up in smoke... Ursula Nordstrom, the genius of us all, was hard at work…publishing what was then called "realistic fiction,” a genre that included books by and about African Americans ( in those days called, Black Americans). Others followed...it was a fabulous/exciting time, especially for novelists. To the “point;” some time ago, in a discussion in this forum, a gifted writer…a minority... whom I have never met, did not call me “whitey” outright but the intent was clear, and referring to me indirectly, said in a sarcastic voice, that I knew nothing about prejudice or poverty; I said nothing. She ain’t the only one... And…when I was a young editor starting out... at St. Martin's Press,, my phone rang, I picked it up , and heard a woman ask in a snippy fashion…how old are you? How old are you? The woman laughed and said ..this is Ursula Nordstorm, is this Norma Jean? Pick me up off the floor… knew her from a distance…as in..psst psst…there is Ursula. She was looking for an editor, the head of a trade association had recommended me. I was excited/terrified…knew the Harper list well..got up and running on recent reviews of their books. Off I went….An uneasy interview…with all of the books Harper had published that I loved, every book she asked about was one in which I was not wonderfully enthusiastic… Finally she asked about Sounder which had just been awarded the Newbery..the author was accused of being racist..in the press, and in certain circles all hell had broken lose. My heart sank..I said, it doesn't work for me. She was snotty when she said…"Oh, you think it is racist, too." " No, I think it romanticizes poverty." I could have picked her off the floor. We had one of the best discussions I have ever had about a book in my entire life…Finally…If you could know in advance that it was going to win the Newbery, would you publish it? She knew I knew..I knew she knew…then…I'm sorry, I wouldn't. The expected news/note came soon enough but every single time we were in the same place, she headed my way for a quick hello, or a short chat. She was aware of what I published, etc…. I was very much a part of the sixties when passion, and a single minded desire to replace what was perceived as a morally bankrupt power structure reigned supreme. To this day, I feel blessed to have been in the thick of it…we were often right, we were often wrong….Assumptions are dangerous…our knowledge of each other on this list is superficial at best…let's be kind…let's be smart…let's be thoughtful… If we, who care enough to be part of this discussion, cannot in our bones, say and believe "we" are in this together…how can we begin to even hope to put a dent in a culture that is often deaf…Norma Jean
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Received on Sun 23 Feb 2014 10:14:52 AM CST
