Next week is Anti-Bullying Week in the UK, when school-children throughout the country will take part in activities to help them:

“grow up with their respect of self and others intact, be fine participant citizens and, perhaps most importantly, become peacemakers in their hearts.”

This quotation comes from Peter Yarrow’s afterword of a remarkable picture book of Steve Seskin and Allen Shamblin’s deeply incisive but simple song Don’t Laugh at Me. The words of the song have become increasingly familiar since first being written just over ten years ago: but set here with Glin Dibley’s hauntingly expressive illustrations, and with certain words in the text highlighted in red, even young children will be able to respond to it, using their innate sense of justice to pull out the essence of the song’s message.

Be prepared for taking your time over it: each line triggers all sorts of questions and discussion. Reading this book to your own children or to a class of young children is a beautiful way to introduce them to the notion that “difference” should make no difference. They will appreciate the juxtapositions in the illustrations, like the one of the boy in a helmet in a wheelchair – in that order: the wheelchair is actually the last thing you notice.

There’s also a cd at the back and kids of all ages will enjoy listening to the song, performed so gently and meditatively by the song-writers themselves.

Peter Yarrow, quoted above, founded Operation Respect and a percentage of the sales of the book goes to their “Don’t Laugh at Me” project… And there’s also a Spanish edition. Reading Zone has just placed it in in its Top Ten Picture Books. So what are you waiting for?

Cloudscome at A Wrung Sponge is hosting this week’s Poetry Friday – and in her post she suggests putting poems out into the “face-to-face world” as well as through blogging… hmm, now there’s an idea…

Nights are drawing in here in the UK, as we move towards wintertime but in the southern hemisphere, the world is heading into summer: so here are two beautiful picture-books which each contain a poem – one for winter and one for summer. One thing is certain: reading time will feel warm, whichever one you read; and they are such a visual treat too, that really they have to be a face-to face encounter.

The first is Jorge Luján’s poem Tarde de Invierno, translated into English as Winter Afternoon by Elisa Amado and empathetically illustrated by Mandana Sadat. It’s a short poem about a child looking out into the winter’s evening, waiting for her mother to come home: and when she does, the hug fits perfectly into the “vidrio del portarretrato”/ “the frosty frame” – so that the focus suddenly swings round and the little girl, the observer, is now the observed. And what a beautiful picture it is too. My children like this poem because it’s full of love. I like it , yes, for that reason too: but also because it helps to assuage some of the inevitable guilt of being a working mother…

The other poem transports us to the heat of the Australian Outback. Annaliese Porter was only eight years old when she wrote the poem – so this would also be a great classroom resource for raising aspiration. Here’s a small taste:

On Uluru there are many shades
on the rocky eye –
browns and reds mingling
into a rich earthy dye.

Uluru is immediately recognisable in Bronwyn Bancroft‘s glorious depiction – and indeed her illustrations sizzle all the way through the book.

There are some wonderfully vibrant picture books around which both add a zing to El Día de los Muertos (the Day of the Dead) festivities taking place today in Mexico, and give children everywhere the opportunity to take part, even if it is via their imaginations.

Jeanette Winter has both written and illustrated books on the theme. In Calavera Abecedario: A Day of the Dead Alphabet Book, the special papier maché skeletons come to life and dance their way through the pages: it’s a fun and lively introduction to the day’s inherent craft traditions. Illustrated by Jeannette Winter, Day of the Dead is equally effective visually; the book’s author Tony Johnston tells the story of a family’s day of preparations before going out into the night “to welcome the spirits of their loved ones home again”.

Author Janice Levy and illustrator Loretta Lopez have teamed up again (published earlier this year was Celebrate! It’s Cinco de Mayo! / Celebremos! Es El Cinco de Mayo!) on a new, bilingual story, I Remember Abuelito: A Day of the Dead Story / Yo Recuerdo a Abuelito: Un Cuento Del Día De Los Muertos. It’s about a little girl who is thinking particularly about her beloved abuelito (grandfather), who has died a few month’s previously, as she helps her family get ready for the Day of the Dead celebrations, when she knows she will find him again. A full review of this gentle and uplifting story with accompanying activities will be published in this month’s update of PaperTigers… Janice Levy is, of course, also the author of the very special The Spirit Of Tío Fernando: A Day of the Dead Story/El espíritu de tío Fernando: Una historia del Día de los Muertos.

And for a story – Magic Night, Noche Mágica - directly from author René Colato Laínez‘ manuscript, check out this post on La Bloga…

Meanwhile, on the other side of the world from where all these festivities are taking place, today has been chosen as the UK’s Family Storytelling Day, to kick off the month’s StoryQuest. Even if you’re too far away to take part physically in any of the many events being organised all over the country, take a look at the website for ideas and tips on how to go about introducing your children to their own family heritage: share in the Día de los Muertos celebrations and bring your ancestors alive by passing their stories down through the generations.

We have just returned home from a week in London, exploring the city to dropping point! One place we visited was the National Gallery, where we followed the Chinese Zodiac Trail. We knew which animals to look for from retellings of the legendary selection process, such as The Great Race: The Story of the Chinese Zodiac. While looking at the paintings, we learnt a great deal about the differences and similarities in the symbolism attached to the animals in Chinese and Western cultures; and Little Brother, who is passionate about dragons, was overjoyed to discover that his birth sign, the Snake, is also known as the Little Dragon!

In the gallery shop afterwards, we found a delightful picture-book called Pablo the Artist by Satoshi Kitamura, which is an enigmatic exploration of the artistic process and where inspiration comes from – I agree with The Magic of Books‘ review, where PJ Librarian says “you really aren’t sure at this point if Pablo is dreaming or if these landscape characters are actually real” – it’s one of those books which grows with each re-reading as new details are discovered and absorbed. We especially loved the glimpse of infinity provided at the end, having read The Mouse and His Child so recently, where the picture of the dog carrying a tray with a tin of dog food with the picture of the dog carrying a tray etc. etc. was such a recurrent and pivotal theme.

Not Just for Kids recommends Pablo the Artist and some other picture-books which “introduce young readers to some of the world’s masterpieces”, as does Rhyming Mom.

…And I should just add that Pablo The Artist was one of the picture books nomitated for the 2007 Sakura Awards, which Charlotte highlighted in her last post…

Whenever there is something to be explained to small people, I usually turn to books. Having the right book to broach subjects like sadness and grief can be a godsend. Michael Rosen’s Sad Book is one of those, though I would advise a solitary reading before sitting down with the children, as its understated language, poetry really, is overwhelmingly emotive. As Rosen explained in an interview, he wrote the book following the death of his eighteen-year-old son Eddie. During school visits, children used to ask him what became of Eddie, following his appearances in previous books.

“When I said, ‘He’s dead,’ you’d see the kids just nodding, ‘Oh, right, that’s what happened, is it?’ Very matter of fact.” Which may be how Rosen had the sense that children could handle the material in his Sad Book, a book that, quite simply, makes sense of sadness.

Quentin Blake’s illustrations are integral to conveying the depths of emotion and actually draw children in to the meaning by offering scenarios which may touch parallels with their own lives. Rosen is not coming up with easy, pat answers. His grief will never go away – but he does talk about how he deals with it and the small but effective ways he can be kind to himself that mean the grief is not allowed to take over his whole life. It’s not a book to be picked up lightly but it offers a chance to reflect and can help children realise they don’t have to be isolated when they are feeling deeply sad.

Characters who don’t quite fit in with their surroundings are often the stuff of good narrative tension and timeless stories – Hans Christian Andersen’s The Ugly Duckling comes to mind… Two beautiful picture books which seem to follow on along that theme, not least through the fact of their protagonists being white water birds (or not), are Borka: The Adventures of a Goose with no Feathers by John Burningham and Guji Guji by Chih-Yuan Chen.

Borka was republished recently in a special 40th anniversary edition. It has lost none of its appeal in the intervening years and the fabulous, witty artwork has not dated. Borka’s parents are told by the doctor goose that they must knit some feathers for Borka(!)– but the other young geese still laugh at her and she spends most of her time keeping out of the way. She can’t fly and isn’t even missed when all the other birds set off on their flight south for the winter. That’s when Borka’s adventures really begin; and the unexpected broadening of her horizons brings new friendships and happiness at last…

Meanwhile, our copy of Guji Guji was given to the whole family with the inscription “I hope you ALL enjoy this charming book” and indeed, there really is something in it for readers of all ages. Above all, there is a bubbly humor and an all-round, gleeful delight in the dénouement. Guji Guji started life as an egg which rolled into a duck’s nest. At this point we see a nest with three smallish white eggs and an ENORMOUS brown one. The next page:

Mother Duck didn’t notice.
(She was reading.)

Of course she was! What a glorious way for young readers / listeners to be introduced to reading as a way of life! Mother Duck treats all four of her children the same and Guji Guji has no questions even, until the “terrible” day three crocodiles arrive on the scene and assure him he’s one of them and should behave likewise. What follows is a story of temptation and wiliness overcome by love. For children who have always been fully secure in where they fit in to their families and communities, that is the straightforward unfolding of the tale: but for those who have felt out of place or exposed because they are physically different, perhaps through adoption, this is a very special story. Here’s a full review from Book Carousel; and Books for Kids has some ideas about how to use the story in class to talk about peer pressure. You can also listen to the story here, read by Scott Simon and Daniel Pinkwater on a National Public Radio broadcast, with interjections to highlight the delightful, so integral illustrations – it does just make you want to have the book open before you! I particularly loved this:

Here’s a picture I’d have on my wall and look at every day for the rest of my life and not mind it a bit, of Mother Duck reading to her little brood: they’re all in a big pile, falling asleep, sort of draped over Guji Guji.

How’s that for a blissful picture of a bedtime story?

Yesterday was National Poetry Day in the UK and the winners of the Foyle Young Poets of the Year Award were announced. One of the winning poems was written in the style of a mediaeval ballad but was a commentry on the prime-ministership of Tony Blair. The prizes include school visits and, for older winners, a week-long residential course – and, of course, having their poems published in an anthology – wow! When some of the winning poems are up and running on The Poetry Society’s website, I’ll add a link… here they are!

Stories in verse make really satisfying read-alouds. Children pick up the rhymes and rhythms and love to preempt what’s coming or chant along once the verse becomes familiar. Mine always surprise me by being able to quote what seem to me great tracts compared with what I would be able to come up with! As I’ve mentioned before, we love Julia Donaldson’s books and a favorite is her retelling of the Chinese legend The Magic Paintbrush, which reads in true ballad form, over many 4-lined rhyming stanzas, and with repetitions and recurring themes, such as the steaming pot of shrimps the young heroine Shen conjures up before her astonished family:

“Did you catch some shrimps, Shen?
Did you catch some fish?
Did you gather oysters
To fill the empty dish?”

It’s beautifully illustrated by Joel Stewart, who has a particular talent for illustrating poetry, from Lewis Carroll’s Jabberwocky to Carol Ann Duffy’s zany Underwater Farmyard, another book we have all enjoyed.

Reading this Magic Paintbrush (more…)

I read with interest the Here in the Bonny Glen’s post on Noel Perrin’s book A Child’s Delight about bringing back nearly-forgotten classics into a child’s reading library. The Common Room gives a slightly longer list of some of the books covered, as well as more background as to how the book came to be. Both blogs talk with great enthusiasm about books I have never heard of and now feel I must investigate for myself as much as for my children. We have made inroads into Hugh Lofting, Margery Sharp and E. Nesbit over the last couple of years – and we mean to read Mary Norton’s The Borrowers before we go and see a stage adaptation of it in January – but there are many others there to add to the “to read” list.

Revisiting favorites from my own childhood is one of the things I love about reading with my children and by reading them together, I get to share in their enthusiasm for them too – hence Dr Dolittle and others, like The Secret Garden - but there are also books that I wish I’d read and somehow never got round to – thus we have all followed the adventures of Five Children and It and its sequel The Phoenix and the Carpet in the same state of unknowing.

At present, we are reading Russel Hoban’s The Mouse and his Child, (more…)

A thought-provoking article in today’s U.K. newspaper The Daily Telegraph about the correlation between earnings and the time working Mums have to spend reading to their children; and the effect this has on the child’s learning to love books, as well as levels of literacy. Dads only briefly alluded to…

Yesterday was Peace Day – thousands of people around the world stopped to stand together for a world without conflict, for a world united:

PEACE is more than the absence of war.
It is about transforming our societies and
uniting our global community
to work together for a more peaceful, just
and sustainable world for ALL. (Peace Day)

There is an ever-increasing number of children’s books being written by people who have experienced conflict first hand and whose stories give rise to discussion that may not be able to answer the question, “Why?” but at least allows history to become known and hopefully learnt from.

For younger children, such books as A Place Where Sunflowers Grow by Amy Lee-Tai and illustrated by Felicia Hoshino; Peacebound Trains by Haemi Balgassi; and The Orphans of Normandy by Nancy Amis all focus on children who are the innocent victims of conflict. We came across The Orphans of Normandy last summer. I was looking for something to read with my boys on holiday, when we were visiting some of the Normandy World War II sites. It is an extraordinary book: a diary written by the head of an orphanage in Caen and illustrated by the girls themselves as they made a journey of 150 miles to flee the coast. Some of the images are very sobering, being an accurate depiction of war by such young witnesses. It worked well as an introduction to the effects of conflict, without being unnecessarily traumatic.

The story of Sadako Sasaki, (more…)