When the Only Tool You Have is a Hammer

Two books that have clear messages for the reader are Scat by Carl Hiaasen and The Case of the Missing Marquess, an Enola Holmes Mystery by Nancy Springer. The former is an ecological mystery in which a group of kids collaborate and tread on the law in order to save an endangered panther cub. The later stars Sherlock Holmes's lesser known little sister who runs away from home in order to track down her missing mother and avoid being sent to finishing school.

As an adult reading these books it is tempting to find the messages heavy handed- In Scat, kids organizing against corporate forces of evil to save the wilderness. Characters who love said wilderness so much they reject all worldly possessions and societal comforts to camp out in swampland. In The Case of the Missing Marquess, women struggling under the thumb of their male relatives who hold the power, the purse strings, and the opinion that women are of small cranial capacity.

But what of this isn't true? Florida is rapidly being developed to the end of great ecological loss. The state is home to over fifty species of endangered and threatened animals and another fifty endangered plants. It is true that there are fewer than 100 Florida panthers remaining. If the situation is actually this dire, shouldn't we be hit over the head with it?

Enola Holmes is historical fiction and paints a very realistic portrait of 19th century British life. Enola is a keen detective whose discerning eyes are Springer's tool for showing the reader the distinctions between the upper and lower classes, men and women, and adults and children. The dark and blunt way in which Springer describes the wharf and seedier parts of London is reminiscent of Charles Dickens- poverty, violence, and disease are commonplace. Again, what here is unfairly depicted? Enola and her mother have no right to their own estate after the passing of her father, must wear painful and cumbersome attire, and childhood itself is a luxury afforded only the rich. This is, in fact, the perfect avenue for exposing young readers to sexism and other inequalities.

Both of these books are reminders that obvious and repetitive messages are actually accessible and clear messages for tween readers. Considering the importance of environmental issues worldwide and the persistent inequalities among people, I am grateful for these books. They will surely pique the interest of young activists and begin conversations that would otherwise give way to talking about [insert inane and trivial pop culture fad here.]

Further information on the Florida panther:
http://www.floridapanthernet.org/

Art Imitates Art

A book within a book. A film within a film. I'm sure it is merely coincidence that this week I read When You Reach Me, Rebecca Stead's homage to Madeleine L'Engle's masterpiece, A Wrinkle in Time, and saw Pedro Almodovar's latest film, "Broken Embraces," which features bits of "Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown" masquerading under the name "Girls and Suitcases."

While many books and movies are inspired by a specific genre (Pulp fiction, The Big Splash), or some seem like cheap knock-offs (Charlie Bone to Harry Potter), When You Reach Me is a delicately crafted book inspired by, but in no way imitating L'Engle's. Unlike L'Engle, Stead never attempts to recreate another world or invent dark forces that threaten the earth and life as we know it. Rather, Stead creates Miranda, a character struggling to understand friendships, family, and herself- much like A Wrinkle in Time's Meg. Miranda, however, lives exclusively in our world, and the science fiction elements in the book are present only indirectly- a note from the future, a realized prediction. Miranda carries around a copy of "the book" at all times. This book is never named, but is described in detail. I would question the necessity of its inclusion in When You Reach Me's plot if Stead hadn't both managed to make Miranda just the right person to love such a book and woven it into the mysterious notes Miranda receives with the line, "tesser well."

As I sat through "Broken Embraces" earlier this week I wondered why Almodovar seemed to be paying homage to himself. The New York Times review of the movie offers an adequate explanation:

"Its appearance is not vanity or clever self-quotation. Rather, the director’s pastiche of his early, funny work becomes, in the context of this somber new film, a poignant reflection on aging and loss. To catch a glimpse of “Women” in the mirror of “Embraces” is to see how cinematic images can be both tangible and ghostly."

Infusing someone else's work into your own can be to recognize and appreciate its influence on you as an artist, while doing so to yourself is a juxtaposition that can show how you have changed over time. We are, all of us, traveling through time and it is impossible to be unaffected by its passing. As one note to Mira says, "I will not be myself when I reach you."

For the complete Times movie review, go to: http://movies.nytimes.com/2009/11/20/movies/20broken.html?scp=1&sq=broken%20embraces&st=cse

Books in Babeland

Books likeThe Girls Book: How to Be the Best in Everything, For Girls Only: Everything Great About Being a Girl, The Daring Book for Girls, and The Big Book of Girl Stuff are rubbing me the wrong way.

The idea of the books is to capture the interest of girls, and each one of the above mentioned books has a brother geared towards boys. However, that is exactly the problem. Unlike the book Girl Power: Young Women Speak Out! or Girl Wise: How to Be Confident, Capable, Cool and in Control, these books were conceived and designed alongside a male counterpart. They were written to differentiate girls from boys according to their interests.

Let's compare the supposed girl interests with the boy interests. The following are from How to Be the Best at Everything and the Daring/Dangerous books.

Books marketed to GIRLS vs BOYS chapter topics:
How to look best in your photos/How to survive in space
How to do a perfect handstand/How to rip a phonebook in half
How to make a friendship bracelet/How to be a VIP
How to be a natural beauty/How to be a Wimbledon champion
Pressing flowers/Making a water bomb
Four Square/How to play stickball
Spanish terms of endearment/Navajo code talkers' dictionary
Making a cloth covered book/Making cloth fireproof

There is more than one problem here. The most immediate and obvious problem is how the books reinforce the strict gender roles embedded in American culture- roles that ultimately inhibit women from achieving positions of power and encourage men to be insensitive war mongers unable to communicate (except, apparently, in Navajo.) For kids these gender roles make it unacceptable for girls to join in certain sports, or for boys to touch anything pastel. How often have we heard, "No, honey, you don't want the pink one, pink is for girls." Well, sure it is, if you make it so.

The second qualm I have with these books is that many of the topics are just for KIDS! As a fifth grade teacher in East New York, Brooklyn I will swear on For Boys Only: The Biggest, Baddest Book Ever, that boys. make. friendship bracelets. Trust me, I have a confiscated collection in my desk drawer right alongside the tech decks.

By divvying up these activities into boys and girls we only limit what our children explore. While in theory they show a world of fun things to do, all I see is the other world the reader is being excluded from. The natural curiosity of children leads them to be interested in topics that transcend gender-specific books. Despite having kid-friendly information and design, I cannot, in good conscience, put books like these in kids' hands.

You Say Potato, I Say Solanum Tuberosum

Learning how to communicate and work with people who are different from ourselves is a fundamental part of growing up. For Emma-Jean and Ted the task is that much harder. They often have trouble understanding their peers, but they both know that they are a little different. Emma-Jean is strange. Ted's brain uses a different operating system. Without ever saying it explicitly, authors Lauren Tarshis (Emma-Jean Lazarus Fell Out of Tree) and Siobahn Dowd (The London Eye Mystery) have written characters struggling with some degree of Asperger's Syndrome.


The proof? Both characters are literal. Ted, especially, spends the book deciphering the non-sensical language of idiomatic speech. Both characters fail to understand social cues. Emma-Jean, especially, does not realize when she is being teased or ostracized by her peers. Ted uses a series of memorized clues to help him recognize facial expressions or gestures. Neither likes to be touched. Both have focused interests and amass details about specific topics. Emma-Jean can be found standing in her yard giving the Latin names for the flora and fauna.


There is a humanity to these books. While wikipedia informs me that the collection of details often does not imply a vested interest (ex: memorizing camera model numbers but not being interested in photography), Emma-Jean and Ted do not fit that sympton. Emma-Jean's obsession with science stems from the loss of her father. Naming trees and flowers is an attempt to relive the comfort of his presence. Ted is obsessed with weather reports, however it is part of a greater dream of being a meteorologist. He plays with words and likens his sister Kat to Hurricane Katrina and other Katastrophes. He uses the weather as an outlet when he can't sleep, is distressed, and just generally as a filter through which he examines the world around him. These insights into their compulsive behavior gives depth and sentiment to the books.


Each book makes use of a symbol. Emma-Jean has the tree. The tree is part of nature and can be studied, sketched, understood. She climbs it in great haste to try and reach out to a classmate who she believes needs her help. It represents the effort she makes to communicate with others. Of course, to fall from such great heights is a painful emotional letdown. However, as her mother says, sometimes you just have to try another tree or hold on tighter.


For Ted, the great London Eye overlooks his investigations into his cousin's disappearance. From the Eye you see London in a different way, like using a different operating system. The constantly changing view reminds us that there are an infinite number of ways to look at the world. These two books help the reader better understand one more.

Sketch of Solanum Tuberosum

When I Was Your Age

My world revolves around Jon Szieszka these days. We read his autobiography, Knucklehead, for class. The school I observed in had him come speak, and at the school where I work the third grade is writing essays about him and David Shannon.

Knucklehead is very similar to Roald Dahl's Boy in the nature of the stories, though the tone is much more informal. Scieszka, a self-purported panderer to reluctant readers, has chosen a comic book cover and writes about broken bones, urination, swearing, pagan babies, and more urination. Dahl is no stranger to the grotesque. Boy details dead mousecapades, canings, and the anesthetic-free removal of his tonsils and adenoids, but the text is denser and it reads much more like a memoir. Sciezka's tone is of your favorite uncle telling you a whopper- one per chapter.

After hearing him speak, I have no doubt Scieszka is a favorite uncle who tells whoppers. His demeanor is easy, his smile is constant, and his ability to connect with the children unparalleled. No question was too silly or too redundant. No suggestion too wild: You think I should have the Space Heads (his current project in the works) use orange juice as a mind control potion and try to take over the world? Well maybe you're right! Yet the presentation was subtly full of inspiration for future writers and illustrators. Scieszka showed the students how Shannon's illustrations in Robot Zot use perspective to make Zot seem larger than life. He explained that Shannon added things to the story solely through illustration that he had not originally included, like Zot's dog. He talked about the terror that all authors must face- the dreaded...blank page (he brandishes a blank legal pad as if it were a weapon.) And he showed students his writing process from illegible notes to published books.

Scieszka's great accomplishment with Knucklehead is writing a book that is grown up, amusing, and cool, while remaining manageable for struggling readers. The chapters are short and to the point. The vocabulary is straight forward and the themes are familiar to kids- siblings, school, and messing around. This is a book a struggling reader can carry around while enjoying the success of actually reading it.

Besides the Time Warp Trio books, Scieszka has written illustrated books. Big, glossy books with bold illustrations by Shannon or Lane Smith. The younger readers of his books can easily have Knucklehead read aloud to them. The stronger readers among them can read it by themselves. But Knucklehead is more than that because those of us who are older and love his wacky spoofs (by the way the idea for Stinky Cheeseman came to Scieszka when his daughter, then about five, insisted that he read her the Gingerbread Man over and over and over and over until he came up with an alternative) can appreciate this insight into his wonderfully twisted mind.

A child's rendition of Zot, hung to welcome Scieszka to the school.

Positive Value Meal

Encyclopedia Brown and Fletcher Moon, meet Matt Stevens, your average tween detective. His middle school runs smooth as a well-blended vanilla milkshake and he uses more similes than a fifth grade poetry unit. The Big Splash reads like realistic fiction, but disbelief must be suspended. In this pulpy world organized crime boss, Vinny Biggs, runs a tight operation of black market candy and hall passes. He keeps bullies off the playground with his team of pants-wetting assassins. Once your crotch has been targeted you are officially in The Outs, the most undesirable social caste.

Author Jack D. Ferraiolo has paid the attention to detail on this world usually reserved for the creation of alternate dimensions or magical realms. Instead here you can stop by Sal's backyard speak easy or drop by the hard nosed reporter's office in the old gym storage room. Every character has a stereotypical role to fill. The gangster, the reporter, the damsel in distress. The cop, the detective, the bodyguard, the hitman. Because this is a world of organized crime it isn't so clear who is good and who is bad.

The subplot hidden behind all the intrigue is whether Matt can stick to his morals while being employed by the less than trustworthy criminal mastermind. Maybe it's because his Mom is such a hard worker. Maybe it's because the disappearance of his father has left him with an Agent Mulder-like obsession with the truth. Maybe it's because he's seen what happens to kids (like his ex-best friend Kevin) who trade in their freewill for a little clout and authority. Probably for all these reasons Matt stays true to himself and sees the case through. This little lesson is most driven home when Kevin sees the error of his ways and leaves the organization in favor of true friends. The morals in The Big Splash can be harder to find than incriminating evidence in Vinny Biggs's locker though, so mired is the story in its own campiness.

Jacqueline Woodson's After Tupac and D Foster also tells the story of a young girl trying to reconcile her two halves into one whole self. Her world is a realistic portrayal of Queens. Though things seem to be falling apart around her- a family friend incarcerated, her favorite rapper shot and on trial, a friend in foster care- she doesn't face the same blatant moral dilemmas that Matt does. Rather her emotional journey is understanding herself, how she relates to those around her and to the world at large.

It's not that she doesn't have to make choices. But those choices are all down the road. The development here is internal- recognizing the sting of homophobic rap lyrics shows her that she accepts her Neeka's brother Tash for who he is regardless of how the neighborhood judges him. Jealousy creeping up and subsiding allows her to share Johnjay's attention with D. Racism playing out in the park down the street reminds her that life as young black person is obstacle ridden, often unjustly. Sometimes the hardest thing is just accepting that people grow up or move away and remembering that they still love you.

The girls' bond is strong. The reader is left knowing that, when the time comes to choose, this young woman and her friends will stay true to themselves and each other.

Skeletons in the Closet

Skulduggery Pleasant is not terribly original. Child experiences loss. Child learns of the magical world that has always existed right under her nose. Child learns she has great unrealized powers...and it is up to her to save the world. (And yes, I do take pleasure in knowing our lead character, Stephanie, would balk at being called a child!) The book is not without redeemable qualities, however.

For starters, our protagonist is a female. This is not to be ignored, because, let's face it, the books aren't called Hermione Granger and the Society for the Protection of Elvish Welfare or Holly Short and the Lower Elements Police. In a world of magical literature dominated by men, it's gratifying to read a story of an ambitious and strong-headed young lady. That being said there are a handful of girly references that seemed unnecessary such as Stephanie and Tanith's fits of laughter at their own incompetence, or this narration: "She always ate chocolate when something bad happened, but these days chocolate just wasn't enough."

Derek Landy also creates a magical world all his own. It is woven into the fabric of our cities, not hidden from our view like in Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, or Artemis Fowl. Elemental magic is described as almost scientific. Stephanie practices feeling the air as a series of interlocking objects that she can then manipulate to her will. There are no wands, few spells, and some manipulations of nature have consequences for the mage that are out of his or her control. Skulduggery and his fireballs seem reminiscent of Ghost Rider, but his dry wit is all his own. As her mentor he is quite detached so that Stephanie's choices are that much more her own.

What do this "ace detective" and teenage descendant of the ancients have to do with the four genius children spying on an evil mastermind in The Mysterious Benedict Society? Reynie, Kate, Sticky and Constance are also faced with saving the world, but they do not have the benefits (or drawbacks) of using magic. Instead they must each realize their own skills- logic reasoning, acrobatics, memorization, cantankerousness, etc.

Though both books feature children as experts and problem solvers The Mysterious Benedict Society is much more timeless. There are no Bentleys or characters guzzling Coke. In fact, it is unclear whether the story takes place in the 1950s or today. Despite having a more complex vocabulary than Skulduggery and being significantly longer, TMBS reads a good deal younger. The characters are more wholesome and the violence is all psychological. The characters long to be loved and part of family more than they seek adventure or power.

Another feature that sets TMBS apart from the world of fantasy is its blatant political statement about television as a means of mind control and manipulation. What could be more terrifying than subliminal messages being broadcast out of our own beloved TV sets? As a teacher, as a librarian, and as a teacher-librarian I can totally get behind that cause. Turn off the boob tube, kids, I've got just the book for you...

Celebrity Death Match: Harry vs. Percy

No contest. No contest! Maybe The Lightening Thief wouldn't have been so disappointing if someone hadn't referred to it as "the next Harry Potter." Yes, it's true- they are both tales of young boys who only discover in middle school their true identities. Both children are whisked somewhere supposedly safe so they can hone their new found talents. Both find that, due to extenuating circumstances, they must put their magical abilities to the test, well, immediately, in order to save the world.

Plot-wise, The Lightning Thief is a page turner, but Jackson stumbles into random circumstances that often feel contrived. For example he lands in a magical Vegas hotel that serves no purpose other than to shave five days off of his remaining time to find Zeus's master bolt before the summer solstice.

As a character Percy is woefully blind. He is told he will be betrayed by a friend and not to trust gifts. He then receives gifts from friends and doesn't think twice about it? (Spoiler alert!) The second Luke gives Percy a pair of winged shoes and checks to make sure Percy is wearing them it is painfully obvious to the reader which hero is acting as the gods' thief. Of course, this does not cross Percy's mind even after the winged shoes try to fling Grover down into the pits of Tartarus. Let's not underestimate our tween readers' inferencing skills, please. On the other hand, even as an adult reading Harry Potter, I rarely figured much out before he did.

My main qualm with The Lightning Thief is Jackson's story telling voice. Coming from the mouth of a 12 year old the story seems trivial. For example Percy tells us, "I'd love to tell you I had some deep revelation on my way down, that I came to terms with my own mortality, laughed in the face of death, et cetera. The truth? My only thought was: Aaaaggghhhhh!" It's as if Percy is recounting the story to a group of friends at recess. There is appeal in this tone, especially for reluctant readers. Just don't ask me to call it quality literature- and don't get me started on how poorly it served him when reflecting on the loss of his mother.

The Harry Potter series is infinitely more successful at humor. Kids talk like kids, but only in the context of trying to entertain their peers, not just for affect. Consider Lee Jordan's commentary during a quidditch match:

Lee Jordan was finding it difficult not to take sides.
"So- after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating-"
"Jordan!" growled Professor McGonagall.
"I mean, after that open and revolting foul-"
"Jordan, I'm warning you-"
"All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could
happen to anyone, I'm sure..."

I claimed that both boys must fight to save the world, but this is only partly true. While 11 year-old Harry does have to confront Lord Voldemort as early as the first book in the series, he does not fully understand Voldemort's aims or the implications of his return. Perhaps more importantly, he does not understand his own identity or his connection to Voldemort. These concepts are leaked out slowly, sometimes painfully slowly (for fans waiting for the next book to come out) over the course of the series. It is perfectly timed so that each step of the way Harry comes to understand more about his past, Voldemort's life, and the magical world in which they live. Initially Voldemort is a personal enemy- his parents' assassin, someone trying to kill him. This fits with a younger child's egocentric view of the world. As Harry ages he sees Voldemort's plans for the magical and muggle worlds, he realizes the greater threat. Not until the last three books does this struggle realize itself as an epic showdown between the forces of good and evil.

Percy Jackson has a different pace. He not only learns the entire premise behind his world of Greek gods, mortals, and demigods, or heroes, in the first book, but there was also an infusion of politics that seemed watered down for the 12 year-old hero. The gods are siblings vying for power over the mortal world and they bicker like siblings. Compare this to the grabs for power in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. Wizard politicians, set on maintaining power, manipulate the press and education system in order to suppress news of Voldemort's return. It is a much more powerful political commentary and a more sophisticated read. The saving grace of this aspect of The Lightning Thief (spoiler alert!) was that the driving force behind the conflict turned out to be Kronos, the father of the gods. In that context, the sibling rivalry works as Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades could only be manipulated by a force greater than themselves.

The difference in pacing and quality of the books is not entirely surprising in light of their release dates. The Harry Potter series was seven books published over ten years (1997-2007). During that time Rowling did not publish anything else (with the exception of two short HP supplement books, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them and Quidditch Throughout the Ages). On the other hand Rick Riordan put out five Percy Jackson books in just five years (2004-2009) during which he also published two books in the Tres Navarre series and started to publish the series 39 Clues by 2008. While well-researched in terms of mythology, The Lightning Thief is a fast read that reads like it was a fast write.

All the World's a Stage

I gave my second book talk this week. I chose Holes because I know it so intimately- reading a book once a year for children will do that- and could focus on the presentation rather than the content.

Giving a book talk is not unlike giving a minilesson. Start with a hook to get the students' attention, present the information in a concise yet creative way and finish with something thought provoking to get them started on their own. It made me miss the classroom.

It was on my first day of teaching that I realized that teaching is acting. If you expect to be the center of attention (hopefully only briefly and for the express purpose of instruction) it is important to be articulate, animated, and attentive to the audience. Students will tune you out if you don't put on a good show.

Today I visited a Brooklyn grade school and the librarian taught her first grade class how to book talk. She modeled book talks for them, showed them kids and other teachers doing them from schooltube.com. Independently the students will have the opportunity to present book talks on books they love to their peers at the start of each library class. This is a fabulous idea to get kids to think about which parts of a book stay with them and get them to talk about the books with their classmates. It will also promote reading since kids are so influenced by their peers.

At the end of the book talks the librarian did not have multiple copies of each book she talked. This made me wonder- should you only book talk when you have multiple copies on the shelves? What procedure or routine could prevent students from bickering over books. One idea is to book talk several books at once but in a class of 25 this is not a complete solution.

The school where I teach is Spanish/English dual-language, but there is a considerable amount of dissent from students when it comes to working and learning in Spanish. Most are more comfortable in English and their Spanish competence is therefore disproportionate to English. Book talking in Spanish is going to be a fabulous way to entice students to read en Español. It will also provide them with support as they begin the book because they will already have a sense of what it is about.

Here is a list of book talking resources from YALSA:
http://www.ala.org/ala/mgrps/divs/yalsa/profdev/booktalking.cfm

"Bibliophiles Not Baby Sitters," the op-ed piece in the New York Times, brings up the valid concern of adolescent behavior in libraries. However to assume you can work in a public space that welcomes children and have no training on how to manage them is absurd. The title alone offends my educator ears. No, librarians are not baby sitters. But neither are teachers. Teachers often feel like baby sitters when they are unable to accomplish the learning they want in the classroom. Those teachers are being ineffective and require more professional development to help them get their classes under control. Still, Don Borchert describes that the children "been good and relatively quiet" while in school. If he expects librarians to recreate the feel of a well-managed classroom, then librarians must be trained in management techniques just like teachers. Perhaps the best example of this was mentioned in the article. One library in Norwalk, Connecticut trains their staff to work with teens and revokes computer privileges if teens do not comply with the library's expectations. Kids appreciate boundaries. They learn best from immediate and clear consequences. They feel safer when they know what to expect.

These structures are lacking in Logan's life in This is What I Did. Logan is loved, yes. His parents are well-intentioned, yes. He has a comfortable home and enough to eat. But he does not trust the adults in his life- he does not believe they have authority. Of course, he has learned by watching his friends' parents that some adults are not trust-worthy. That, in fact, some adults are to be feared. But what of his parents and teachers? Maybe it was purely out of loyalty to Zyler that he never spoke up, but I doubt it. I think that if his parents had been better equipped to talk to him about abuse then he would have felt more comfortable broaching the subject. Parents, like librarians and too many teachers, often don't receive training about how to communicate with adolescents.

In his suggestions for how to cope with unruly teens, Borchert suggests programs where teachers and principals chaperone after school hours. I am appalled by this suggestion. I appreciate that he considers teachers to be competent at managing children, but feel that we are already an over-worked bunch within the confines of our buildings and don't need to extend our work hours any more. That kind of short term solution draws attention away from a more lasting solution like demanding increased funding to hire more staff. What would be a beneficial teacher/librarian collaboration, however, are educator-led training sessions on management techniques.

Despite everything I've written I don't mean to imply that teachers have all the answers that librarians are lacking. In fact, many teachers don't get enough management training either. However if want to support the Logans and Zylers of the world, we cannot hope it will fall into place on its own.

Below are great books on classroom management that could apply to a library setting:

The Good, the Bad, and the Invisible

Fitting in is never easy, but it never feels harder than in middle school. Developmentally kids are suddenly aware of their own limitations and increasingly crave the approval of their peers. Last year a student said to me eagerly, "Look at my painting!" and then quickly followed with, "It's terrible." This defensiveness is endemic in the tween population and it seems we in schools often address it ineffectively.

Two books address these feelings- Every Soul a Star by Wendy Mass and The Schwa Was Here by Neal Shusterman.

Every Soul is wholesome, to borrow a word used in class, but does a good job of illustrating that kids build self-esteem best when they are able to develop the skills they feel are lacking. This is most notable in Jack, who, after enjoying success in the dreaded fields of science and friendship, then becomes bold enough to begin sharing his art with his new friends.

This book is a special treat for those of us mired in testing drills, trying to get struggling readers and mathematicians to succeed at filling in bubbles. Instead of focusing on academic achievement it melds a real-life application of science into a tale of friendship that examines important markers of emotional development- Am I comfortable with who I am? What is really important to me? And, What do I want to get out of my life?

Schwa, I feel, is a deeper and darker story. The Schwa does not just have low self-esteem- he feels invisible. By feeling invisible, he is invisible. Antsy resents his role as the mediator in his family and feels himself growing apart from his friends. The stakes seem higher here than in Every Soul and I was worried that the Schwa would become suicidal. That is not where Shusterman takes us though, and instead allows the characters to know themselves better through each others' eyes. Antsy sees that he is the paperclip, Schwa sees, well, himself.

I can't count the number of meetings I've had with parents, other teachers, and administrators in which I've said, "She/He has really low self-esteem." We have our responsibility as educators to support the students' development academically and socially, to provide the kids with opportunities for success (like Jack's science teacher in Every Soul), but in these books it is powerful, lifelong friendships that help these kids see themselves in a way they like. How can we make school environments places where kids bond rather than compete? How can we reduce bullying and increase peer-support? I'm going to start by putting these books in the middle school library.

Graphic Graphic

I've been trying to find a place to begin for a while now and I think I figured out why I'm so stuck. We refer to graphic novels as a whole, a unit of literature that goes together- but they do not. Where is my smooth transition from Maus to Rapunzel's Revenge? Maybe I could tease one out, but I don't want to sully the mark Maus made on my life with Shannon Hale's chopped and screwed fairy tale. That's not to say I didn't enjoy it and I absolutely see a need for it on my school's library shelves but that the graphic novel is not a genre but rather a format with consistent visual codes. It is a versatile format that lends itself to many different genres.

I am imagining Sumo's talk with Death in Into the Volcano written as prose. It wouldn't be as whimsical. (Yes, I think the way Death dangles from the walls and toys with Sumo is playful.) Reading about things shaking isn't the same as seeing the lines on the page blur. This tale of adventure and emotional growth is interwoven with surreal experience and a level of action that, were it equally described in narrative form, would require a different skill set that would arguably make it less accessible to more readers.

Rapunzel's Revenge achieves completely different goals. In this case the author employs the graphic novel format to make the book read more like a cartoon. It is a fairy tale, ever after. It is riddled with jokes and asides, and the Disney-style characters and bright colors give the story a lightness even at its darkest. The absence of color in Maus or Palomar stands in contrast to these books. It makes them feel more grave and lends the pages the historic significance of black and white photographs or the newspaper. The visual choices of the author are as important as the dialogue.

Consider also everything that Spiegelman told us by simply using animals. We know who comes from where at a glance and at one point we understand that his father is passing as a Pole wearing a pig mask- a visual metaphor!

I have used comics in my teaching curriculum for two years. Below is a text I relied on to write my comic unit. Kids adore reading both strips and graphic novels and are highly motivated to write their own. They are especially wonderful for language learners since the words are supported by visual representations. Now I want to include their use as teaching tools in reading. I imagine a lesson where students infer what happens in the gutter, then infer what happens between scenes or chapters. Students could look at Vladek wearing the mask of a pig and compare that to a metaphor in a line of poetry. If struggling readers who are adept graphic novel readers were aware of the skills they used to read visually it could be a powerful tool in helping

them transfer those habits to the written word.

Greg Heffley's Secret Childhood Identity

Hanging in my father's office is a poem. You have to look very closely to see that it is a poem because it is in the shape of a face. My face. I remember using a mechanical pencil to assure myself of those fine lines and writing in as minuscule letters as possible. When I had nothing more to say I complete strands of hair with hair hair hair hair hair.

Blue Lipstick and Technically, It's Not My Fault by John Grandits brought me back to a time in my life when I was overflowing with words and not too self-conscious to put them on paper. It takes a kind of bravery to put your intimate thoughts into a format meant to be read by others (or in the case of a diary one that could be read by others.) I think this is part of what makes these books so compelling. They are not just told in a child's voice, but are children's voices revealing intimate thoughts meant primarily for themselves to hear.

Each book represented a gender, which seems to be how the much of the course is laid out. I try to deny that such a gender divide exists when I teach not wanting the girls to feel they have to read Diary of a Teenage Witch instead of Harry Potter, but I suppose I must accept that especially at their developmental age, a lot is different. I'll save my thoughts on gender though for the graphic novels, which illustrate my thoughts more clearly (pun intended.)

I want to clear the air of rumors- at least in my school, at least in the fifth grade, kids LOVE poetry! They love breaking the rules of punctuation and left to right. They love making comparisons and being silly. They love reading a poem and imitating its rhythm. They love using poetry to tell us what they think. We have poetry slams in the fourth and fifth grade every year and Grandits' work is a great source for lessons and independent reading during that unit.

On a different note, Diary of a Wimpy Kid may have saved my life. I consider myself a skilled book dealer. I pride myself on drawing reluctant readers out of their holes and into our class library. When they whine, "I can't find anything I like," I put something in their hands that turns it all around. Except when it doesn't. Enter comics. Thank you Calvin and Hobbes for being witty and accessible. Thank you Fox Trot for featuring bickering siblings. Thank you Boondocks for being political and edgy. I know, I am woefully out of date but I just don't get into manga and kids find that on their own anyway. But what's a teacher to do when kids need to build stamina and experience whole paragraphs? Enter Diary of a Wimpy Kid. Greg Heffley is self-centered, mischievous, and in general a pretty bad role model, but so is Calvin. On the other hand they are both creative, pensive, and trying to survive school. Come to think of it there is quite the resemblance in the work they hand in to their teachers and in their perception of bullies. Watterson retired but I think it's safe to say that here we get a glimpse of Calvin in middle school. Our students get a glimpse into their own world from a humorous point of view.