I just recently had a great-niece born into my family and I have been very excited about buying books for her to read and to have read to her as she grows. Being a third grade teacher, however, I was a little lost on which books to buy for a young child (granted, Haleigh will not be reading them for several years, I figured I could always start her library off from the beginning). To be honest, I was never really raised on really good picturebooks, such as the caliber of books that I have been reading throughout this semester. My parents made sure that I had as many books as I wanted, but they turned out to be comic books and fairytales most of the time. Therefore, I have felt a little like Cynthia Rylant in that book warehouse filled with children’s books; so many books and so little time!
As mentioned, I decided to read Eric Carle because many in my Children’s Literature class who teach younger students were recommending his work. I’ve heard of The Very Hungry Caterpillar and wanted to read this one to myself, The Very Quiet Cricket. I really think that crickets are cute and I really would like for him to write one about fireflies.
The end pages of the book are very interesting because they look like some of the finger paint work that I have seen preschoolers do; a masterpiece of colors and zigzags. In fact, the illustrations are very child-friendly and look like they could be replicated by a child with finger/tempera paint and an easel.
I love the story line, as well. There are not a lot of words on a page and the overall story grows on itself. You have a little cricket being greeted by different types of insects throughout the day, but when the cricket tries to respond likewise, he is unable to make a sound. The same thing occurs throughout the day and the same words are basically repeated over and over again. This is a great tool for teaching early readers to read. The ending fits with a different occurrence, when the little cricket is finally able to make a sound when he meets up with a “lady cricket”.
The beauty of some of Carle’s books is that he interweaves nature and science into the book. Young children are fascinated with nature and the natural occurrence of things within their new, big world and this book is tailored to quench this fascination. I, in my older age, discovered something new. I did not know that only the male crickets can make a sound when they rub their wings together. Now, on summer nights, when I listen to the crickets outside, I will know who is playing in the natural orchestra!
Monday, April 30, 2007
Where The Wild Things Are, by Maurice Sendak - Picturebook
“And now,” cried Max, “let the wild rumpus start!” I want to be Max, the ruler of the wild things, holding a royal scepter in my hand and commanding wild things to do as I please. I want to sail across an ocean in my own private boat for days, weeks, and into a year. I mean, at some point in all our lives, I would wager to say that we all wanted to be Max. I would also wager to say that we all have been Max’s mother at some point in time, telling him to go to bed without dinner because he smart mouthed off at us. I would even wager to say that at times we have all been the wild things, wanting to roar terrible roars (when someone has upset us) and gnash terrible teeth (when we feel frustrated) and roll terrible eyes (when someone is threatening our place in this world) and show terrible claws (maybe just when we are hungry). Still, a person, no matter what age, can read this book and discover themselves in it.
Ironically, I didn’t read this book for myself until I had taught for several years. Sure, I had heard of the book and could even tell you a little about the wild things, but I couldn’t tell about the main plot to the story. Interestingly enough, however, I am glad that I read it as an adult, so that I could smirk at Max and his “hedonistic behavior” and realize that this was really a dream (or was it?). The author/illustrator draws from the ideas of dreams. I still, as an adult, dream every night, and just like Max, my dreams are strange and unbelievable in their natures. In my dreams I have traveled to many a place in the time period of a good night’s sleep and arrived right back home in the morning. The wild things are true creatures of dreams with their different configured bodies. They are a combination of animals and all have really scary eyes, but not too scary. A child would most likely be able to realize that these are not creatures to fear, but creatures to pretend to fear and more importantly, to laugh at. Yes, the wild things are a true conglomeration of different animals, but it is the eyes that make them perfectly unique. Their yellow eyes, which Max instantly tames with the “staring game”, are fascinating to look upon. They are just big yellow dots with pupils of black smaller dots, but they show so many emotions and feelings. I see fear and excitement, joy and anger. It is when the wild things actually close their eyes that Max tires of being their ruler and decides to go home.
The whole concept of the wolf suit is fun, also. When people go to costume parties they become someone else for a little while. They are given a chance to break free and take a little vacation from life, even when you are around people you may see every day. In a costume, you are different and you feel the desire to act-out the character. I can imagine that Max was quite the beastly wolf in the wolf suit, obviously leading him into some serious trouble.
The pictures are simple, yet neatly done. When I say simple, I do not mean that they could be easily drawn by just anyone, however. I believe that the pictures are meant to be simple to show an event in a little boy’s life (just like some of our own childhood events) that could happen to anyone. The same simplicity is shown with the island of the wild things. Yet here, when the wild rumpus begins, the pictures become full layouts and bleeds. That is one great rumpus party to be a part of! We could all slip off into a dreamland of wild things and resurface in the present with the simple act of awakening.
Ironically, I didn’t read this book for myself until I had taught for several years. Sure, I had heard of the book and could even tell you a little about the wild things, but I couldn’t tell about the main plot to the story. Interestingly enough, however, I am glad that I read it as an adult, so that I could smirk at Max and his “hedonistic behavior” and realize that this was really a dream (or was it?). The author/illustrator draws from the ideas of dreams. I still, as an adult, dream every night, and just like Max, my dreams are strange and unbelievable in their natures. In my dreams I have traveled to many a place in the time period of a good night’s sleep and arrived right back home in the morning. The wild things are true creatures of dreams with their different configured bodies. They are a combination of animals and all have really scary eyes, but not too scary. A child would most likely be able to realize that these are not creatures to fear, but creatures to pretend to fear and more importantly, to laugh at. Yes, the wild things are a true conglomeration of different animals, but it is the eyes that make them perfectly unique. Their yellow eyes, which Max instantly tames with the “staring game”, are fascinating to look upon. They are just big yellow dots with pupils of black smaller dots, but they show so many emotions and feelings. I see fear and excitement, joy and anger. It is when the wild things actually close their eyes that Max tires of being their ruler and decides to go home.
The whole concept of the wolf suit is fun, also. When people go to costume parties they become someone else for a little while. They are given a chance to break free and take a little vacation from life, even when you are around people you may see every day. In a costume, you are different and you feel the desire to act-out the character. I can imagine that Max was quite the beastly wolf in the wolf suit, obviously leading him into some serious trouble.
The pictures are simple, yet neatly done. When I say simple, I do not mean that they could be easily drawn by just anyone, however. I believe that the pictures are meant to be simple to show an event in a little boy’s life (just like some of our own childhood events) that could happen to anyone. The same simplicity is shown with the island of the wild things. Yet here, when the wild rumpus begins, the pictures become full layouts and bleeds. That is one great rumpus party to be a part of! We could all slip off into a dreamland of wild things and resurface in the present with the simple act of awakening.
The Widow's Broom, by Chris Van Allsburg - Picturebook
I became introduced to Chris Van Allsburg books last year, with his story The Garden of Abdul Gasazi, in our basal reading book. After reading that story, I must say that I really was not enthralled with Van Allsburg, however, with the excitement of other teachers pushing me forward, I read some more of his books. I quickly realized that I enjoyed his works and wanted to read more and more. His sense of mystery that he left the reader with after reading his books was very exciting and I realized that many a theme could be drawn from his words. True, most of his illustrations (all done by him) were typically black and white, but with a bit more analyzing on my part, I realized that the black and white photographs were just right for the words and the themes that Van Allsburg was trying to get across to the reader. With all of this in mind, I decided to read The Widow’s Broom.
For as long as I can remember I have been drawn to books that recognize hatred, racism, and selfishness in the world and try to right these evils and allow the “underdog” character to succeed. I like the idea that love conquerors all and that eventually the truth will set a person free. In short, I want the bad guy to get what is coming to him/her in the end and the good guy to win. The Widow’s Broom is a book that embodies all of these characteristics, and I loved it. True, I enjoyed reading it to my class with the lights off and the shades drawn and with a spooky voice. I had set the tone for my third graders to enjoy a Halloween/Autumn type book, but this story goes so much deeper than that. The very real prejudices of the neighbors against the broom that is in a sense “gifted” to Widow Shaw is very real and more scary than anything that could fall from the sky on a dark, cold autumn night. The extent of actions that this prejudice takes the neighbors to reflects the Puritan beliefs and reminded me of the Salem Witch hunts in the 1600s. The reader feels a close bond with the Widow and her broom, who appears to be almost pet-like in it’s loyalty and desire to please. The only thing it does is help around the house, keep the Widow Shaw company, and sweep when it gets the chance. Therefore, when the reader sees the neighbors plot against the broom and openly pick on the innocent item, the reader is outraged (at least I know that I was!). The final act of injustice is proven when the broom is “burned at the stake” in order to supposedly rid the country of such evil. I laughed right along with my students when we all discovered that the Widow Shaw, such a seemingly helpless, old lady, had devised a plan to truly rid the country of the evil with the neighbors finally leaving in fear of a “ghost broom”.
This Van Allsburg book did not leave me wondering at the end, because it mentioned the white paint and the little hint in the beginning about the broom not sleeping. I knew that Widow Shaw had devised a clever plan to save her new companion and help mate. The justice that was written into the end of the story was very well appreciated by me, the reader, and twenty little third graders!
For as long as I can remember I have been drawn to books that recognize hatred, racism, and selfishness in the world and try to right these evils and allow the “underdog” character to succeed. I like the idea that love conquerors all and that eventually the truth will set a person free. In short, I want the bad guy to get what is coming to him/her in the end and the good guy to win. The Widow’s Broom is a book that embodies all of these characteristics, and I loved it. True, I enjoyed reading it to my class with the lights off and the shades drawn and with a spooky voice. I had set the tone for my third graders to enjoy a Halloween/Autumn type book, but this story goes so much deeper than that. The very real prejudices of the neighbors against the broom that is in a sense “gifted” to Widow Shaw is very real and more scary than anything that could fall from the sky on a dark, cold autumn night. The extent of actions that this prejudice takes the neighbors to reflects the Puritan beliefs and reminded me of the Salem Witch hunts in the 1600s. The reader feels a close bond with the Widow and her broom, who appears to be almost pet-like in it’s loyalty and desire to please. The only thing it does is help around the house, keep the Widow Shaw company, and sweep when it gets the chance. Therefore, when the reader sees the neighbors plot against the broom and openly pick on the innocent item, the reader is outraged (at least I know that I was!). The final act of injustice is proven when the broom is “burned at the stake” in order to supposedly rid the country of such evil. I laughed right along with my students when we all discovered that the Widow Shaw, such a seemingly helpless, old lady, had devised a plan to truly rid the country of the evil with the neighbors finally leaving in fear of a “ghost broom”.
This Van Allsburg book did not leave me wondering at the end, because it mentioned the white paint and the little hint in the beginning about the broom not sleeping. I knew that Widow Shaw had devised a clever plan to save her new companion and help mate. The justice that was written into the end of the story was very well appreciated by me, the reader, and twenty little third graders!
Saturday, April 28, 2007
26 Fairmount Avenue, by Tomie DePaola - Autobiography
My students come to me with a repertoire of knowledge about Tomie DePaola books under their little knowledge belts because they do an author study on him in the second grade. Therefore, when I pull the Tomie DePaola books for them to read with our story, The Mysterious Giant of Barletta, they pretty much already think that they know everything about him that is possible. That is when I decided to bring out the autobiography. Remarkably, they don’t read this with the author study in the second grade so that left me, the third grade teacher, to have a little trick up my sleeve. Be forewarned, however, that you will experience many laughs when you read this book, because DePaola is certainly one of the most hilarious children that I have encountered!
The story begins around the time that Tomie was approximately age four and his family was beginning to build their new home on 26 Fairmount Avenue. A hurricane struck Meriden, Connecticut that fall and nearly destroyed the production of the home and many city ordinances nearly stopped the finalization of the home altogether, but in the end, the family moves in. In this book, Tomie is the youngest child (his sisters come later in life) with one older brother. Evidently the brother is a good child and student, and the reader can infer, through various incidents in the book, that Tomie was nothing like his older brother. In fact, his first day of kindergarten Tomie, with as much self-confidence that a five-year-old can have, haultily walked up the school steps and marched right up to the principal. The principal asked him who he was and Tomie replied and then curtly asked who she was. The reader starts gaining the feeling that Tomie may not have made the best decisions throughout grade school when we are left hearing Tomie say that he got to know the principal very well throughout he next couple of years. This leaves the reader to infer that Tomie was not the “best” of students, so to say.
Another funny occurrence happened that first day of kindergarten when he finally walked in to his classroom, met the teacher, and asked when they were going to beginning reading. Interestingly (and I use that term with sarcasm), the teacher told him that they would not learn how to read until next year, in the first grade. Tomie simply stated that in that case he would come back next year, turned around, and walked home. How very defiant for a child and with such confidence. I love it! I know a child like that!
Tomie DePaola’s book, Nana Upstairs and Nana Downstairs, was mentioned in this book with Tomie talking about going to visit his grandmothers and sitting with Nana Upstairs for visits. The respect that he felt for this older woman is very evident and sincere through this writings, even when he recalls an uncomfortable incident with laxatives. I will leave this little section of the book closed until you open it and read it for yourself; and believe me, it will be well worth it!
Finally, Tomie was a child after my own heart when he went for the first time to see Walt Disney’s Snow White. He was so excited because his mother had read the book to him many times and he was delighted to get the opportunity to see it in moving picture. However, as we all experience at least once in our lives, most movies never exactly match the books. Tomie was so outraged at this that at age four he stood up in the movie theatre and shouted at the screen! He was of course hushed by another woman behind him, but the sight of seeing an outraged child shouting at a movie screen for not going exactly by the book makes me smile. I have wanted to do this many times but couldn’t quite pull it off with as much “class” as DePaola did. His mother came and rushed him out of the theatre as soon as the movie ended, however. So funny!
The story begins around the time that Tomie was approximately age four and his family was beginning to build their new home on 26 Fairmount Avenue. A hurricane struck Meriden, Connecticut that fall and nearly destroyed the production of the home and many city ordinances nearly stopped the finalization of the home altogether, but in the end, the family moves in. In this book, Tomie is the youngest child (his sisters come later in life) with one older brother. Evidently the brother is a good child and student, and the reader can infer, through various incidents in the book, that Tomie was nothing like his older brother. In fact, his first day of kindergarten Tomie, with as much self-confidence that a five-year-old can have, haultily walked up the school steps and marched right up to the principal. The principal asked him who he was and Tomie replied and then curtly asked who she was. The reader starts gaining the feeling that Tomie may not have made the best decisions throughout grade school when we are left hearing Tomie say that he got to know the principal very well throughout he next couple of years. This leaves the reader to infer that Tomie was not the “best” of students, so to say.
Another funny occurrence happened that first day of kindergarten when he finally walked in to his classroom, met the teacher, and asked when they were going to beginning reading. Interestingly (and I use that term with sarcasm), the teacher told him that they would not learn how to read until next year, in the first grade. Tomie simply stated that in that case he would come back next year, turned around, and walked home. How very defiant for a child and with such confidence. I love it! I know a child like that!
Tomie DePaola’s book, Nana Upstairs and Nana Downstairs, was mentioned in this book with Tomie talking about going to visit his grandmothers and sitting with Nana Upstairs for visits. The respect that he felt for this older woman is very evident and sincere through this writings, even when he recalls an uncomfortable incident with laxatives. I will leave this little section of the book closed until you open it and read it for yourself; and believe me, it will be well worth it!
Finally, Tomie was a child after my own heart when he went for the first time to see Walt Disney’s Snow White. He was so excited because his mother had read the book to him many times and he was delighted to get the opportunity to see it in moving picture. However, as we all experience at least once in our lives, most movies never exactly match the books. Tomie was so outraged at this that at age four he stood up in the movie theatre and shouted at the screen! He was of course hushed by another woman behind him, but the sight of seeing an outraged child shouting at a movie screen for not going exactly by the book makes me smile. I have wanted to do this many times but couldn’t quite pull it off with as much “class” as DePaola did. His mother came and rushed him out of the theatre as soon as the movie ended, however. So funny!
Number the Stars, by Lois Lowry - Historical Fiction
I picked up Number the Stars at the bookstore because it was a historical fiction novel (and I needed one of those for my Journal blogging) and because Lois Lowry (the writer of The Giver) wrote it. I was so fascinated with The Giver that I was certain that if she used the same craft in Number the Stars that she employed in The Giver, that I would love this book. I was right, because I was drawn into Number the Stars instantly.
I enjoy books that have an undercurrent of realism and ironic events and characters embedded through the writing of historical fiction. Number the Stars is set in Copenhagen, Denmark during the Nazi Germany invasion. The Johansen’s are a typical Danish family that had three daughters who were going about their daily lives before their king, Christian X, surrendered to Germany, without a fight, because he had the knowledge that Denmark was a small country and that they would not survive a war. German soldiers get posted throughout town, curfews are issued for the citizens, electricity and foods are rationed, and blackout curtains are put up. Life changes even more dramatically when their oldest daughter, Lise, is killed in an accident. Like in The Giver, the reader really doesn’t find out about how Lise is killed immediately, but as we read the story, Lowry gives us a trail to follow until we realize that Lise was a member of the Resistance group and that one rainy night she was purposely run down by a car of the Nazi’s. The reader suspects something of this sort, with Lise being engaged to marry another boy, Peter, who is a Resistance member, but never really finds out until the end of the book exactly how she died. Another important plot in the book is that the Johansen’s are close friends with a Jewish family, the Rosen’s. The Nazi’s had not begun tormenting or capturing and relocating Jewish families and people in Denmark until recently, and now they must all hide and leave or be sent away to concentration camps. The Johansen’s are able to smuggle the Rosen’s to safety just in time. In fact, all of Denmark came together to make sure that their Jewish residents were cared for as much as possible.
There are so many powerful themes flooding the pages of Number the Stars, but the one that highly impacted me was the loss of innocence. Ten-year-old Annemarie is very grown-up for her age, having to be due to the events that are occurring in her country. She tries to occupy her time playing little girl games, like races and paper dolls. The foot races are abruptly stopped in the beginning by a German soldier who interrogates her and her best friend Ellen about running in the streets and the paper dolls are set aside when she begins remembering her own sister’s death and the night that it occurred. She even cares and pampers her little sister, Kirsten – who really is the only character who maintains a childlike trait throughout the story – by making up fairytale stories, that Annemarie no longer believes in.
My, how Lowry can weave irony and satire into her novels! Denmark is at war, in a silent, resistant way, with Germany, and the girls are playing pretend with paper dolls that they have named after the characters of Gone with the Wind. Annemarie comments that pretending to play Gone with the Wind is so much more exciting than pretending with fairytales. That made me smirk, because I always pretend-played fairy tales, because it was a different country and time period for me. That is the very reason that Annemarie is pretend-playing Gone with the Wind, because of a change in location and characters. I also found it ironic how Gone with the Wind is about war, the Civil War, which ravishes the main characters’ homes and changes their lives forever, same as the characters in Number the Stars lives are changed forever by a home front war. It is also about the prejudice and mistreatment of African Americans, just as the prejudices and mistreatments of the Jewish community are being played out in Denmark during this time period.
Lowry has a way of weaving so many interesting historical facts and information into her works and makes the characters come alive right before the reader’s eyes. I wanted to be there, helping smuggle Jewish people to safety.
I enjoy books that have an undercurrent of realism and ironic events and characters embedded through the writing of historical fiction. Number the Stars is set in Copenhagen, Denmark during the Nazi Germany invasion. The Johansen’s are a typical Danish family that had three daughters who were going about their daily lives before their king, Christian X, surrendered to Germany, without a fight, because he had the knowledge that Denmark was a small country and that they would not survive a war. German soldiers get posted throughout town, curfews are issued for the citizens, electricity and foods are rationed, and blackout curtains are put up. Life changes even more dramatically when their oldest daughter, Lise, is killed in an accident. Like in The Giver, the reader really doesn’t find out about how Lise is killed immediately, but as we read the story, Lowry gives us a trail to follow until we realize that Lise was a member of the Resistance group and that one rainy night she was purposely run down by a car of the Nazi’s. The reader suspects something of this sort, with Lise being engaged to marry another boy, Peter, who is a Resistance member, but never really finds out until the end of the book exactly how she died. Another important plot in the book is that the Johansen’s are close friends with a Jewish family, the Rosen’s. The Nazi’s had not begun tormenting or capturing and relocating Jewish families and people in Denmark until recently, and now they must all hide and leave or be sent away to concentration camps. The Johansen’s are able to smuggle the Rosen’s to safety just in time. In fact, all of Denmark came together to make sure that their Jewish residents were cared for as much as possible.
There are so many powerful themes flooding the pages of Number the Stars, but the one that highly impacted me was the loss of innocence. Ten-year-old Annemarie is very grown-up for her age, having to be due to the events that are occurring in her country. She tries to occupy her time playing little girl games, like races and paper dolls. The foot races are abruptly stopped in the beginning by a German soldier who interrogates her and her best friend Ellen about running in the streets and the paper dolls are set aside when she begins remembering her own sister’s death and the night that it occurred. She even cares and pampers her little sister, Kirsten – who really is the only character who maintains a childlike trait throughout the story – by making up fairytale stories, that Annemarie no longer believes in.
My, how Lowry can weave irony and satire into her novels! Denmark is at war, in a silent, resistant way, with Germany, and the girls are playing pretend with paper dolls that they have named after the characters of Gone with the Wind. Annemarie comments that pretending to play Gone with the Wind is so much more exciting than pretending with fairytales. That made me smirk, because I always pretend-played fairy tales, because it was a different country and time period for me. That is the very reason that Annemarie is pretend-playing Gone with the Wind, because of a change in location and characters. I also found it ironic how Gone with the Wind is about war, the Civil War, which ravishes the main characters’ homes and changes their lives forever, same as the characters in Number the Stars lives are changed forever by a home front war. It is also about the prejudice and mistreatment of African Americans, just as the prejudices and mistreatments of the Jewish community are being played out in Denmark during this time period.
Lowry has a way of weaving so many interesting historical facts and information into her works and makes the characters come alive right before the reader’s eyes. I wanted to be there, helping smuggle Jewish people to safety.
Friday, April 27, 2007
Who Was Thomas Jefferson?, by Dennis Brindell Fradin - Biography
As a teacher of third grade, the Standards of Learning dictate that I teach my students about various famous Americans, Thomas Jefferson being one of these. Until I began teaching about him, I must admit that I really didn’t know much at all about him, other than the fact that he was the third president of the United States and that he wrote the Declaration of Independence. Other than that, I was lost. Still, being a person who finds history fascinating, my husband, mother, and I planned a trip to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania about a year ago and immersed ourselves in United States history. I must say, that if surrounding yourself with United States history is your idea of a great time (like me), then go to Philly!
Who Was Thomas Jefferson? (TJ is what my third graders affectionately call him) is a chapter book biography. It begins with Jefferson’s entrance into the world and doesn’t end until his exit from the world. Throughout the book the reader learns about his character and the events that weaved themselves through his life and through history. In my opinion, he was a remarkable man. He was an avid reader who could sit and read for fifteen hours straight, without stopping to eat. Now, that is a reader! He was exceptionally self-motivated and determined to accomplish things in his life that he felt were good and honest things. He was shy and did not like to talk out in public, because he was said to not be a very good speaker, but he could write. Surprising me was the fact that he didn’t even really want to write the Declaration of Independence. Sure, he believed in freedom from what he considered the tyranny of England, he just thought that John Adams would be better for the job of writing such a paper. Yet, with a little flattery, Jefferson wrote the most important document in American history.
I have always been interested in his affairs with Sally Hemings, a slave that he owned, but had several children with. I never understood how someone can have a “love” relationship with a person and father children with them, and still keep them on as slaves until the end of his life. Even when Sally had the possibility of gaining hers and her child’s freedom by staying in France and not returning to Virginia with Jefferson, she still returned with him and had more of his children, remaining his slave until the end of his life. It was ironic to discover, through the reading, that Sally was the half-sister of Jefferson’s late wife. Though she was never recognized as a half-sister, the two women shared the same father. She was a product of an owner having an affair with one of his slaves, just as she and Jefferson did.
I have put this book, as well as another book of this type about Benjamin Franklin, in my Buddy Reading center and my students are reading it. I feel that it is written in a very tasteful and student friendly way and can be used as a read aloud if wanted.
Who Was Thomas Jefferson? (TJ is what my third graders affectionately call him) is a chapter book biography. It begins with Jefferson’s entrance into the world and doesn’t end until his exit from the world. Throughout the book the reader learns about his character and the events that weaved themselves through his life and through history. In my opinion, he was a remarkable man. He was an avid reader who could sit and read for fifteen hours straight, without stopping to eat. Now, that is a reader! He was exceptionally self-motivated and determined to accomplish things in his life that he felt were good and honest things. He was shy and did not like to talk out in public, because he was said to not be a very good speaker, but he could write. Surprising me was the fact that he didn’t even really want to write the Declaration of Independence. Sure, he believed in freedom from what he considered the tyranny of England, he just thought that John Adams would be better for the job of writing such a paper. Yet, with a little flattery, Jefferson wrote the most important document in American history.
I have always been interested in his affairs with Sally Hemings, a slave that he owned, but had several children with. I never understood how someone can have a “love” relationship with a person and father children with them, and still keep them on as slaves until the end of his life. Even when Sally had the possibility of gaining hers and her child’s freedom by staying in France and not returning to Virginia with Jefferson, she still returned with him and had more of his children, remaining his slave until the end of his life. It was ironic to discover, through the reading, that Sally was the half-sister of Jefferson’s late wife. Though she was never recognized as a half-sister, the two women shared the same father. She was a product of an owner having an affair with one of his slaves, just as she and Jefferson did.
I have put this book, as well as another book of this type about Benjamin Franklin, in my Buddy Reading center and my students are reading it. I feel that it is written in a very tasteful and student friendly way and can be used as a read aloud if wanted.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
But I'll Be Back Again, by Cynthia Rylant - Autobiography
I have learned that as I get to know an author’s craft and style of writing by reading several of their books, I feel close to an author and their life. Maybe it is that “fame” thing that movie stars and celebrities go through, but I find myself yearning to know more about the person who writes the books that have touched my heart in a special way. I want to know more about the moments and events in their life that have caused them to write the way that they do and to express an emotion through a story event or character that so closely relates to me and connects to my little spirit. I almost feel a kinship between the authors and myself and want to talk to them more. However, the only way that I can relate with them more is to read more of their books and to possibly see them at readings or by video interviews. The chances of me sitting down with them over coffee and them allowing me to listen as they pour out their life story upon my burning ears is more likely not going to happen. Therefore, my remedy for such a feeling is the autobiography.
I found myself laughing aloud and feeling like I was getting to know Cynthia Rylant in her autography. I found much of myself in that book, with Rylant’s experiences through life. This now makes perfect sense to me why I enjoy her books so much and find a friend and co-thinker when reading them. Sure, my parents never divorced and my mother never left me to live with my grandparents in a small mountain town for four years, but I still found myself in her hopes and dreams and reflections of life.
In my later years (and keep in mind that I am only 28 years old) I have grown very fond of The Beatles and their music. Raised by parents who were themselves brought up during the 50’s and on the King of Rock-n-Roll (Elvis), I never really listened to The Beatles. Their anti-war protests greatly outraged my Veteran father, so their music was not listened to. Now, I find myself humming songs of their’s randomly and listening to them as a drive to class. I can imagine when they first came out that their popularity was amazing. I, personally, was in love with Davy Jones from the Monkey’s and I am not ashamed to admit that he was my first love and I was sure that we would somehow meet and marry. Little did I know (being a child of the 80s), that Davy Jones in my time was old enough to be my father. That was a harsh reality that I had to face in my first ten or eleven years of life! I’m still trying to recover :)
It is interesting to me that Rylant had so many friends who were male. Throughout the book we find that her playmates and best friends were typically males and that those were the ones that she had most of her most intimate (and I don’t always mean sexual) conversations with. It does make the reader pause to ponder if she was trying in her own childlike way to make up for the lack of a male figure in her life with so many male friends. Her confidence around the opposite sex was amazing, as well, with her joking and talking about things with boys that most middle and high school girls struggle with. I sensed no awkward silences and situations for Rylant and her buddies throughout her autobiography; just a lot of goofing around and having fun.
The way that Rylant delivers her story to the reader does not make the reader feel sorry for her, but brings about the realization that her life was not easy and that she survived, with love and a curious nature. She did not have both parents (and for about four years, she didn’t have either parent) to raise her and support her. She did not have books to read about far away places and adventures of animals, objects and humans. Yet she lacked in no imaginative way. I heard a person ask Richard Peck during his interview in Washington, D.C. if he thought that in order to be a good writer you had to be raised in a good and supportive home by both parents. Peck’s response was along the lines of that being raised and supported by both parents was important, but that not all good writers had to have this. Around this time in the watching of the speech I was wondering what planet the woman who asked that ridiculous question was from. It is obvious that writers are born with a talent and that not all writers have that parental support and nurturing at home. Rylant found it in her grandparents and her friends and eventually her mother. She is a good writer, not because she had, but because she didn’t have. Now she is able to look back and reflect on her life and brings believable characters alive that feel and experience what she felt and experienced. That is what makes a great, not just a good, writer!
I found myself laughing aloud and feeling like I was getting to know Cynthia Rylant in her autography. I found much of myself in that book, with Rylant’s experiences through life. This now makes perfect sense to me why I enjoy her books so much and find a friend and co-thinker when reading them. Sure, my parents never divorced and my mother never left me to live with my grandparents in a small mountain town for four years, but I still found myself in her hopes and dreams and reflections of life.
In my later years (and keep in mind that I am only 28 years old) I have grown very fond of The Beatles and their music. Raised by parents who were themselves brought up during the 50’s and on the King of Rock-n-Roll (Elvis), I never really listened to The Beatles. Their anti-war protests greatly outraged my Veteran father, so their music was not listened to. Now, I find myself humming songs of their’s randomly and listening to them as a drive to class. I can imagine when they first came out that their popularity was amazing. I, personally, was in love with Davy Jones from the Monkey’s and I am not ashamed to admit that he was my first love and I was sure that we would somehow meet and marry. Little did I know (being a child of the 80s), that Davy Jones in my time was old enough to be my father. That was a harsh reality that I had to face in my first ten or eleven years of life! I’m still trying to recover :)
It is interesting to me that Rylant had so many friends who were male. Throughout the book we find that her playmates and best friends were typically males and that those were the ones that she had most of her most intimate (and I don’t always mean sexual) conversations with. It does make the reader pause to ponder if she was trying in her own childlike way to make up for the lack of a male figure in her life with so many male friends. Her confidence around the opposite sex was amazing, as well, with her joking and talking about things with boys that most middle and high school girls struggle with. I sensed no awkward silences and situations for Rylant and her buddies throughout her autobiography; just a lot of goofing around and having fun.
The way that Rylant delivers her story to the reader does not make the reader feel sorry for her, but brings about the realization that her life was not easy and that she survived, with love and a curious nature. She did not have both parents (and for about four years, she didn’t have either parent) to raise her and support her. She did not have books to read about far away places and adventures of animals, objects and humans. Yet she lacked in no imaginative way. I heard a person ask Richard Peck during his interview in Washington, D.C. if he thought that in order to be a good writer you had to be raised in a good and supportive home by both parents. Peck’s response was along the lines of that being raised and supported by both parents was important, but that not all good writers had to have this. Around this time in the watching of the speech I was wondering what planet the woman who asked that ridiculous question was from. It is obvious that writers are born with a talent and that not all writers have that parental support and nurturing at home. Rylant found it in her grandparents and her friends and eventually her mother. She is a good writer, not because she had, but because she didn’t have. Now she is able to look back and reflect on her life and brings believable characters alive that feel and experience what she felt and experienced. That is what makes a great, not just a good, writer!
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