A Beach Tail

In honor of summertime here in the northern hemisphere, I thought I'd mention a book I recently discovered- A Beach Tail by Karen Lynn Williams.

Taken from the author's, website: 

"Gregory and his father are spending a day at the beach. When Greg finds a stick and draws a lion in the sand, they name him Sandy Lion. "Don't go in the water, and don't leave Sandy," Dad says. Greg follows his father's advice. But he still manages to travel down the beach quite a way before he realizes he can no longer see the blue umbrella where Dad has settled on the dolphin towel.

Swish Swoosh! Greg's journey takes him past such landmarks as a jellyfish, a sandcastle, a ghost crab hole and more. How will he find his way back to Dad? Fortunately, he has his stick and Sandy's tail with him the whole way.

This rhythmic text is paired with Floyd Cooper's brilliant illustrations, revealing the trip down the beach entirely from a child's point of view. The art and text show a gentle father-son bond and reassures young readers even as they share Greg's moment of worry."

One detail that I especially love is that this book portrays an African-American father and son spending time together. Their race is not mentioned in the text, rather Floyd Cooper's lovely illustrations reveal this detail. Race is not the focus of the story as is the case in so many books about children of color in which the plot focuses on slavery, racism, the civil rights movement, etc. Those books are important, of course, but they need to be balanced with books like this one that portray a "slice of life" for people of color in which their race does not define the plot of the book.

For more on this topic, please check out  the Publisher's Weekly blogpost by Elizabeth Bluemle titled "The Elephant in the Room." You can also follow The Open Book, (children's book publisher Lee and Low's blog), and Coloring Between the Lines (Author/illustrator Anne Sibley OBrien's Blog).

As I think back on my years as a Grade 4 Teacher, I'm sure the books I read with my class were too heavily focused on social issues and not enough on "slice of life stories." I am much more aware of this issue now that I have kids of my own and I write for children, too. Plus, there are more good examples being published every day. I hope you'll support these books by purchasing them or checking them out of the library. As demand grows, publishers will seek more titles. (Two great publishers to check out are Lee and Low and Shen's Books).

Are you a teacher, parent, or homeschooler? Have you considered this point of view regarding books about children of color? Analyze the books you read with your kids. Are people of different races, ethnicities and religions represented? In those books you've read, is the character's race, ethnicity, or religion the defining characteristic? Can you recommend any good books to us?

Family Connections

Connections are important to me. Connections between people. Connections between people and nature. If we had more of both, I believe we'd have a lot fewer problems in the world. While this blog focuses on connections between kids from different cultures and kids and nature, I'd like to take a little side trip today. It may seem disconnected to you, but stick with me. I hope my comments will help you understand.

How connected are your children or students to their relatives, both dead and living? I ask this question because I believe fully understanding your family's values and beliefs enables you to make choices about continuing or rejecting those beliefs.

I am fortunate to come from a solid foundation. I grew up with my relatives nearby. When I was young, four generations lived on our farm, so I had a sense of family history.  I felt loved by my great-grandfather and great grandmother right on down to my aunts and uncles. I learned to live close to the land as I helped feed the animals, bring in the hay, and work the vegetable gardens. I learned independence romping in the woods and fields alone or building forts with my friends. I'm certain I am a naturalist because of this early beginning.

Only later, as a pre-teen, did I start to question the opinions expressed by certain relatives. I heard racial and ethnic slurs uttered on many occasions by some extended relatives. One grandfather thought women should stay home and have babies. He told my parents, "You do not waste money educating women." I didn't always like my extended family or the prejudice that existed. My questioning of that prejudice, and my parents' recognition of it, gave me the courage to grow and reach for something better. Being firmly rooted to my nuclear family and my home gave me the courage to spread my wings and fly half way around the world as an exchange student when I was just 16 years old, even when my grandfather said I belonged at home.

My parents did not want us to repeat my family's history of racism, sexism, antisemitism, etc. (you name an "-ism," it was present in my extended family). They worked hard and raised their daughters to be strong and independent. They pushed us to aim high. Each of us has studied abroad and earned Master's degrees- the first women in our family to do either.  Each of us is a strong independent woman because of our parents. Each of us views the world in a more global way than was the norm in our small home town. I am certain I am passionate about race relations and interactions between people because of the blatant prejudices I experienced as a child and my parents' critical responses to it.

The other day, as I walked in my yard photographing my beautiful flowers, all of these ideas flooded my mind. What made that happen you might ask? My strong roots, that's what. I live in the house my maternal grandparents lived in when I was a child. My parents live in my paternal grandparent's house. All around me I see evidence of my grandparents. This home is certainly ours now- we've lived here more than 15 years and made many changes to make it our own. One thing that hasn't changed is some of the gardens and plants. As I walk through my gardens, I see the flowers my grandmother planted all those years ago still blooming. Her snowdrops, crocuses, and daffodils still push up through the snow every spring. Each time I see them I think of her and smile. My front garden is a riot of color right now- some of it my grandmother's plants, some of it plants dug from friends' and relatives' gardens over the years. Gardening goes way back in my family. As I walked and photographed each of those flowers yesterday, I thought of the person who gave them to me. And there's the seed of this whole post: connections between the people in my life (some living, some dead) and nature, in the form of the plants they gave me.

For your viewing pleasure... here is a sampling of those flowers and who they're from:

My deceased grandmother's clematis. This is the first time it has bloomed for me.

My grandmother's iris. Yellow was her favorite color.

Peony dug from my uncle's garden. That ant is doing it's job--soon a full bloom!

Lupine my mom grew from seed.

Geranium dug from my great aunt's garden 10 years ago.

Iris from the original plant my mom dug from her grandmother's garden back in the 60's.

I maintain strong connections to the family that nurtures me. I embrace my family’s legacy of living close to the earth- of growing food and flowers and animals-but I reject the legacy of prejudice. I can only choose to embrace or reject something once I have recognized it, considered it, and acted in response to it.

How about you? What is your family legacy? What makes you proud? What do you want to change for your children? How will you make that happen?