Monday, August 10, 2020

#pb10for10 10 Pictures Books for the First Weeks of School

August 10 has become one of my favorite days of the year--one of my favorite holidays. And this year, with the pandemic and closed libraries and no book gatherings with friends, I feel like I have not been able to keep up on picture books like I usually do. So, I am especially looking forward to #pb10for10 today. Thanks so much to Mandy Robek and Cathy Mere for hosting this fabulous event each year.  This year, lists are posted on Mandy's blog at Reflect and Refine. I can't wait to see all of the lists!

This year, I've been thinking of how important the beginning of the year is, and how books help us anchor community and literacy early in the school year.  Intentional book choice is always so important during those first weeks and months of school and with remote or hybrid learning, the books we share will be even more important.

I choose books that invite starting conversations that will extend through the whole school year. I want my students to know the joy of readings, the power of rereading, the connections that help you understand yourself and those that help you better understand others. I want them to see that in our intellectual community, their contribution matters.  The books I choose to share early in the year let me get to know my students and my choices also let my students envision what our community might become. 

This year's list is a list of 10 picture books I'd share early in the school year--not necessarily during the first day or weeks, but sometime over the first 6 weeks of school, I'd be sure to fit these in.

Below I've included links to the books as well as a downloadable/printable pdf of the list that you can download if that's more convenient.


You Matter by Christian Robinson
Nana Akua Goes to School by Tricia Elam Walker
A Plan for Pops by Heather Smith
Spencer's New Pet by Jessie Sima
Your Name is a Song by Jamilah Thompkins-Bigelow
Dictionary for a Better World by Irene Latham and Charles Waters
Brave Molly by Brooke Boynton-Hughes
Saturday by One Mora
Be a Friend by Salina Yoon
Lift by Minh Lê and Dan Santat 

(All books are linked to Bookshop. Bookshop is an online bookstore with a mission to financially support local, independent bookstores. Check out their "About" page for more info.)

Friday, August 07, 2020

Poetry Friday -- Don't Forget to Wear a Helmet

photo via Unsplash



Don't Forget to Wear a Helmet

We're there.
Top of the ramp,
crest of the rollercoaster's lift hill,
poised to commit to -- submit to -- the will
of gravity.

Let go.
Fly and fall
with stomach-dropping fear.
Lean into curves, anticipate apogees.
Transform possibility into reality.


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020


This poem was inspired by Seth Godin's post today, Drop In. I especially liked this line, "The worse you can do is half."

Laura has this week's Poetry Friday roundup at Writing the World for Kids.

Tuesday, August 04, 2020

Fighting Words by Kimberly Brubaker Bradley




Such an important book. So thankful that Kimberly Brubaker Bradley made this accessible for younger readers. Della and Suki are characters that will be with me for a long time. If you have a daughter, make sure she reads this.

From the acknowledgements: "...a novel for ten-year-olds featuring sexual assault, a suicide attempt, foster care, homelessness, meth addiction, and eighty-six uses of the word snow." (She uses "snow" as a replacement for curses.)

This was a work of heart for Bradley. It is amazingly well-crafted and age-appropriate. The parallel storyline of the boy in Della's classroom who harasses the girls with "bra strap snapping" and the way Della finds her voice to get the adults to pay attention and to get him to stop...SUCH good modeling for our girls. The actual words about consent that they can use when it happens to them. 

I also loved finding HOW TO STEAL A DOG tucked into the story doing what books are meant to do  (and what Bradley's book does) -- lets the reader know that they aren't the only one. Not the only one who's been homeless and living in their car, not the only one wears free clothes, not the only one who's been sexually assaulted. 

You will want to read this. It's hard, but it's laced with humor and love. 



Saturday, August 01, 2020

Poetry Friday -- Open to Interpretation

if it's a bow
its string is pulled taut...
summer field

弓と弦なら弓を引け夏の原
yumi [to] tsuru nara yumi wo hike natsu no hara

"A haiku about hunting. Issa paints us a picture (disturbing for the animals in the field and, I think, to Issa too) of every bowstring pulled back, a notched arrow ready to fly." --David Gerard



David Gerard goes with a literal interpretation of this haiku. I see it figuratively -- that brief moment when everything is ripe and full, or any moment when you're holding your breath, waiting to see what will happen. Based on my interpretation, here are a few versions I would propose:


if it's a bow
its string is pulled taut...
return to school plan


if it's a bow
its string is pulled taut...
thunderstorm


if it's a bow
its string is pulled taut...
cat in the window


What's your take on this haiku? I hope you'll share your version in the comments.

Catherine has this week's Poetry Friday roundup at Reading to the Core.

Thursday, July 23, 2020

Poetry Friday -- Summer of 2020


photo via Unsplash

Summer of 2020

Happiness is morning light
and -- except for birdsong -- silence.
A book to get lost in,
and a cup of tea to begin

a day soaked by rain.
It will not stay
cool, but at least starts
pleasantly, unmarked

by stress and worry
about all that is unsure.
Hold this moment close.
Capture this fragment of hope.


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020


Margaret has the Poetry Friday roundup this week at Reflections on the Teche.


Friday, July 17, 2020

Poetry Friday -- Say Her Name



This is SUCH an important book, and it is incredibly humbling to realize that I am not the intended audience. What a (white) privilege it is, that for almost all of my life I could open any book and find some version of me or a life somewhat like mine between the covers. As I read this book, I humbly looked over the shoulder of my BIPOC students and colleagues to read the "Poems to Empower" that were written with them in mind.

In the acknowledgements, Zetta Elliott shares that discovering Black women writers was a recent experience for her, too, but a very different experience from mine: "When you realize that your small, soft voice is actually part of a chorus, you begin to sing with more confidence." From the introduction: "We do have allies, but some days it feels like all we have is each other. This book of poetry is for us. I love us."

The book begins with a trio of haiku, and then every seven (or so) poems there is another set of three haiku. I love how these three short punches slow the reader down to breathe and process. After the final three haiku, there are notes for many of the poems that illuminate Elliott's mentors (Audre Lorde, Lucille Clifton, Nikki Giovanni, James Brown, James Baldwin, Nina Simone, Gwendolyn Brooks [her two poems inspired by "We Real Cool" are AMAZING], and many others).

Here is the final haiku:

stop killing us stop
killing us stop killing us
stop killing us STOP

©Zetta Elliott, 2020


This book is best suited for middle school and high school students, and adults.

Jan has this week's Poetry Friday roundup at Bookseed Studio.


Friday, July 10, 2020

Poetry Friday -- Fallibility


image via Unsplash


FALLIBILITY

I am flawed. I make mistakes. I fail.
Miserably, and in cringe-worthy ways. All
the time. Yet I lift
myself up and flail
away at life, flatly
refusing to give up, refusing to take the bait
of “good enough.” I have the ability
to see the light in my aspirations, so I need to stand tall
and not bail
myself out with an alibi.
I’ll
not be a liability.
I’ll
try
and try
until I fly.
Until we all fly.


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020



I tried the new poetry form introduced by April Halprin Wayland at Teaching Authors last May -- In One Word. I started with the word FALLIBILITY. I used an online word generator to find all the words that are inside FALLIBILITY. Then I wrote my poem, using those words as the last word in each line.

Doing the internal work of antiracism is hard. It's painful to unpack privilege, to understand that I have harmed children (and colleagues) with my blindness, to lose my individuality and take group responsibility as a white person for systems of inequity perpetuated by whiteness. No matter how hard the work is, no matter how many times I fail, I have to get right back up and keep going. I have to stick with it for the long haul.

Ruth has the Poetry Friday roundup this week at There is no such thing as a God-Forsaken town.



Friday, July 03, 2020

Poetry Friday -- If


photo via Unsplash


If it weren't for the fireflies'
Nightly silent
Fireworks
I might have forgotten how much we
Need even tiny sparks of magic
In our lives
To remind us of the size of
Eternity.


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020


It has been so delightful to spend the week with the word IF! Thank you, Charles and Irene for the call for poems using IF as the first word of the first line.

I have poem notes and drafts in my writer's notebook between notes from Phil Bildner's talk on BookLove, Dr. Paul Thomas' NCTE/LLA talk "Teaching Without a Deficit Lens," Kelly Gallagher and Julia Torres' talk on BookLove, Cornelius Minor's NCTE Member chat, and April Baker Bell's NCTE talk about her book Linguistic Justice: Black Language, Literacy, Identity and Pedagogy. It's been the kind of week that has needed poetry woven throughout.

This poem got a lot of love when I polled adults and former students. But the more I thought about Heidi's feedback, the more I realized that it was the other one that needs to be submitted...after I revise the ending. Thanks, Heidi!

Linda has the Poetry Friday roundup this week at A Word Edgewise. She's got an In One Word Poem for us today.


Wednesday, July 01, 2020

It's Time to Get Rid of Some "Classics" in Elementary Classrooms



Recently I read this article in School Library Journal--Weeding Out Racism's Invisible Roots: Rethinking Children's Classics by Padma Venkatraman. There is a lot to think about in this article and a lot of actions to take once we do that thinking.

If you follow #DisruptTexts, they've also really pushed my thinking about the books I have in my classroom, the books I read aloud, the books I recommend to students. We are so lucky to have Tricia Ebarvia, Lorena German, Dr. Kim Parker, and Julia Torres pushing our thinking and sharing their expertise. Their mission (stated on their website) it is:

"Disrupt Texts is a crowdsourced, grass roots effort by teachers for teachers to challenge the traditional canon in order to create a more inclusive, representative, and equitable language arts curriculum that our students deserve. It is part of our mission to aid and develop teachers committed to anti-racist/anti-bias teaching pedagogy and practices."

Much of the work around rethinking the canon is connected to secondary classrooms. When we think of the "canon" we think of high school English classes. But there is definitely a canon in elementary schools. There are classic books that we have deemed "must have/must read" titles for our students. There are books that are grade level reads across a school or district. There are books that as individual teachers, we have committed to reading every year in our own classrooms. We hold onto them because we say, "Every child needs to read this book because I loved it." or "Every child needs to read this book because every class I've read it to has loved it."

Much of our commitment to these classics is about nostalgia. I love The Secret Garden and A Little Princess. My mother read both to me when I was in elementary school and I have great personal memories of them. I imagine during my first years of teaching I probably read them aloud to my 4th graders because I believed it was important to share books I loved so my students too could love reading. But when I revisit these books now, I realize the racist (and other) issues in both and would never read them aloud to students now. Dr. Laura Jiménez was the person who helped me understand the role of nostalgia in teacher book choice. In the article, The Overwhelming White, Straight, and Able Face of Children's Literature (Michigan Reading Journal, Fall 2018) she says, "Literacy gatekeepers want to share their experiences with important literature with their students." She then adds, "One major issue literary gatekeepers have is the assumption that a book that was good for them is good for all readers."

I have been thinking about my own personal nostalgia since listening to what Dr. Jiménez says about nostalgia. I have also been thinking of teacher nostalgia. I realize there are several books that were staple read-alouds during my early years in the classroom. I remember reading these books aloud to children and remembering them as anchors for joy around reading. I also remember these books as being popular with students in the years I did not read them aloud.  The Indian in the Cupboard and Touching Spirit Bear are two that stand out to me. At the time, I would have considered these fabulous choices for read aloud and independent reading. They were well reviewed by professional journals, well loved by students and really invited lots of incredible conversations. It didn't take me long to see the racism in The Indian in the Cupboard but in all honesty, it took me a while to give up Touching Spirit Bear. This misrepresentation in this book was less visible to me, but just as harmful. I am thankful for Dr. Debbie Reese's blog for helping me see the things I missed.

There are so many books that we hold onto as teachers and we have to stop. I have learned to recognize and ignore my own nostalgia when choosing books to share in the classroom.  I have learned that I can't let nostalgia get in the way of my professional responsibility. The nostalgia I have for certain books--either from my childhood or as a teacher -- cannot be the excuse I use to justify keeping these books in my classroom. 

Dr. Seuss and Laura Ingalls Wilder are just two authors that elementary teachers tend to hold onto. I recently read this NPR article about the reasons classics have such staying power. One point was, "And when planning lessons from year to year, it's easier for teachers to prioritize books they're already familiar with. But when these books include offensive stereotypes, teachers have to decide whether to continue teaching them and how."

It's time we all take a hard look at our classroom libraries and really look at the books we have, the books we hand to children, the books we use in mini lessons, and the books we choose to read aloud.   We have to ask ourselves questions like --Am I keeping this because I loved it as a child? Am I reading a book aloud because I always start the year with this one? We have to be honest with ourselves about the reasons we keep them.

And then we have to let some of our old favorites go. 

We don't have to let go of the happy memories we personally have of these books, But we must look past our own nostalgia to disrupt the elementary "canon" in our schools and classrooms. 

I am going to end with one more quote from Dr. Laura Jiménez, "You can hold onto the stories that build you at the very same time you are reaching for stories that will help the next generation of readers see themselves and others in this complex world."




Monday, June 29, 2020

White Fragility Cannot Stand Alone


This weekend I posted this piece on Facebook that Dr. Sonja Cherry-Paul had shared--Glorifying White Authors like DiAngelo Erases Decades of Black Writing on Whiteness. As a white woman who has read and recommended White Fragility often, I have been reading and listening to the critiques over the last week. These words from the article stuck out to me:

"Ultimately, the problem here is not that people are eager to read Robin DiAngelo’s White Fragility per se but that way too many newcomers to the racial justice movement fail to take the rest of the Black intellectual work as seriously. When white race scholars are revered and seen as exceptional, well-intentioned white Americans risk reading a trendy book by a white expert and not picking up a book by an established Black author at all."

I do see a few people on social media asking us not to read or recommend the book, but most of the messages suggest not reading this one book by a white author INSTEAD OF books by Black scholars who have been studying race and whiteness for decades. We cannot ignore the race work of Black scholars.

For me, White Fragility was an important book. It was a book that helped me see my place in all of this and begin to recognize and change my responses and actions. It may not have been the book, but it may have been the facilitated conversations I had around the book that was important. One important conversation was facilitated by Dr. Laura Jiminez at a Highlights Foundation workshop last summer. So I am not sure if it was the book or the conversations around the book. All I know is that it was one of many books that has been important to my own internal work.

After reading the concerns about the book over the weekend, I wanted to speak to other white women about our reading lives. I think as readers it is time we audit and change our reading lives. Until about 5-10 years ago, most of my reading was centered on white authors. I never really thought about it. I read books recommended by friends, books I noticed in bookstores and books that were reviewed in journals or that made it to a best seller list. What a limited reading life I had.

Then I audited my classroom library and committed to really paying attention to the authors I was bringing into the classroom. But that step alone did not change my life as a reader.

I've had to be honest with myself about a lot of things as a reader. Over the years I've asked myself the following questions:

  • When I look at my reading, do I read mostly books written by white authors?
  • Do I read adult fiction by authors of color? 
  • Is most of my professional reading centered on white authors and experts?
  • Why are most of the books that appear in my social media feeds written by white writers? What does that tell me about my social media feeds? How can I change that?
  • How much of my professional reading life am I committing to reading and learning from scholars of color? 
  • Where does reading about whiteness and anti-racism fit into my reading life?
  • When I recommend books to others, are they mostly books by white authors because those are the books I know best?
  • Who do I rely on for book recommendations?
  • How committed am I to #ownvoices in my personal reading life?

These are just a few of the questions I've been asking myself and I hope others have been too. They are hard questions and I am not always happy with my honest reflections. Although White Fragility was an important book for me on my journey to learn about whiteness and racism, it was only one very small step on the journey. 

I have been working hard over the last few years to unlearn much of what I understand about the world, I've tried to read a variety of authors and to put my trust into those scholars who have been doing this work for decades and decades. In the process I have realized all of the brilliance I have been missing as a reader. I have missed so much --not only in my professional reading but in the fiction books I read. 




This is a stack of books from one of my bookshelves. Some have been read, some are waiting to be read, some have been read several times. I have this huge stack because after finding one book, I hear about others that seem too good not to add to my stack.  My (reading) life is richer because of this. Sadly, I had no idea what I was missing. But what I find is that one book leads me to another which leads me to another which leads me to a new-to-me favorite author, which leads me to new book reviews on Instagram which leads me to more books......

I may change my thoughts about White Fragility. I certainly understand the worries and the criticism and I am going to continue to reflect on those.  One thing I know for sure is that it cannot stand alone.