Thursday, June 26, 2008

2-5 Story time: Growing, cooking, and eating

I was all out of themes, so I picked some off the shelf and voilà: They made their own theme.

Anne Miranda's To Market, To Market: Smashing success! What happens nowadays when you go to market to market to buy a fat pig? In a children's book, at any rate, you don't take it home to butcher it. It- and the hen, the lamb, and any other live thing you bring home- create quite a stir.

"The one with the lady with the duck on her head" was a favorite. I was worried that the pictures were too cluttered, but kids a few rows back were shouting out what various animals were doing. The color- painted figures against the black- and- white collage background- help. I love how the animals are so realistic and at the same time so cute- look at that ducks feet! and his cheeks!

The kids loved it when I'm singing along and interupt myself with "uh-oh..." They helped.

I made the mistake of asking one group to help. One little girl who was too old to be in story time by herself clearly thought this was an invitation to read the book along with me. Need to think of a better way of encouraging participation.

Byron Barton's The Little Red Hen didn't go over as well as I thought it would in the first group- several two- and- unders with one big kid answering all my questions while everyone else looked on. The second group liked it a lot better- they caught onto the "Not I's" from the beginning. I ditched the animal voices I was using with group one and just let everyone else say it for me.

The illustrations in this one are bright, simple, and fun, and there's no one like Barton for simplifying a story down to a pre-school attention span. If it weren't so comparatively wordy, I would have gone with Brian Pinkney's version. Pinkney, Johnson, McKissack, Daly- we love your books! Now write simpler ones! I want to use them in story time!

For instance, I didn't use Grandma Lena's Big ol' Turnip by Denia Lewis Hester. I did display it, but a big person picked it up, looked inside, and immediately asked me for one didn't have so many words.

I told the Giant Turnip story from Judy Sierra's Flannelboard Story telling book instead. Synopsis: Old man plants a turnip that grows really big so he can't pull it up even with an old woman, a little girl, a cat, and a dog pulling with him. The addition of a mouse finally does the trick.

I made the flannel board pieces with felt and black interfacing from the fabric store as the book suggested (and as pictured on the cover). They didn't turn out quite as pretty, but they were passable (and more impressive looking than my normal photocopies glued to cardboard covered with shelf paper). I had to tell several kids I would let them touch the little people after I was done with stories (not NOW, when they need to be up on the board, please.)

The first group didn't help much with the "Pull! (grunt!)s" but the second group was more than happy to make noise with me.

BTW, my exceptional boy from the other week came back! And looking at another copy of the book in mom's lap seemed for him an acceptable alternative to standing right in front of the copy I was reading so no one else could see. The only time we ran into problems was, of course, when I wasn't using a book. I gave him one of our wire-and-bead things (you know, you've seen them in doctors offices) to play with and he did alright.

I let the first group vote on what they wanted to hear last (dangerous proposition, I know) and the vote was unanimous for my big book: Carrot Seed by Ruth Kraus. At least amongst those voting. Four abstained. One seemed to be raising his hand for my other choice as well, but I believe he was actually grabbing for Carrot Seed. Everyone was spellbound until the seed finally sprouts and half the group shouted out "Woah! BIG carrot!" (or something similar).

I forced The Cake that Mack Ate on my other group. Not so wise, but hey, I'd requested copies from two other branches and intended to use them. This one follows a "House that Jack Built" pattern (this is the grain that fed the hen that laid the egg that went into the cake that Mack ate, etc.) and so rolls on along...until you get to a picture of a dog. Captioned : "This is Mack." I cracked up! The kids completely missed the joke. Someone asked "Who's Mack?" and I went back and explained the joke. The parents laughed. The kids were still befuddled. I didn't have any copies to send back to their home branches, so maybe some of the grown-ups hoped the kids would get it a second time around.

Moral of the story: Visual gags work a lot better for pre-schoolers than irony, subtle or otherwise. Nothing I didn't know from grad-school, but experience is the best teacher (apologies to my child lit prof.)

Monday, June 16, 2008

2-5 Story Time: Stuff Ms. Lauren's been wanting to do.

It's the story time I've been waiting for! I'm out of themes, so I had license to read all the books wouldn't fit easily into one.

I learned Elfrida Vipont's The Elephant and the Bad Baby for my first assignment in my storytelling class.

I changed some of the words when I did it in class.


I now know from experience that seven rounds of stealing merchandise and enciting shopkeepers to run after the Elephant and the Bad Baby are a little too much.

The Elephant and the Bad Baby only robbed five people in my version, which I Americanized a little... (I know! I know! But you're just much more likely to come across a hotdog stand than a butcher shop selling meat pies around here!) You will be happy to know I did the straight up seven in storytime.

If the pictures were a little bigger or a little less detailed it might have worked better. As big and graceful and beautiful as Brigg's elephant is, I still prefer telling it. It's much easier to make your hands go rumpeta rumpeta rumpeta in your lap when they're not holding the book. I think the kids would have caught onto the motion better as well. But Pre-school storytime is for books, so perhaps this one will not make an encore appearance. Just as well- our system is down to one copy. I begged the little girl who took it to take good care of it.

Someone please reprint this book! If I can't do it in storytime, I at least want to know that kids are getting it one-on-one.

I think every time I glance at the shelves I come across a new book in which all the characters end up getting stuck in something. But Lisa Wheeler in Bubble Gum, Bubble Gum does it with such catchy rhythm and inventive rhyme (first "bad-mood-how-rude-tough-dude shrew" I've come across to date) that it stands out.

The rhythm is so persistent that I was moved to sing the book, which was fun for me. However, everyone else kept trying to sing along and realizing that they didn't know the words, ultimately trailing off. I'll try chanting it next time.

Next: I'm Not Cute by Jonathan Allen.
This one reached out and grabbed me (I can't look at it without squealing "But you are...you are!) Grown-ups seemed to appreciate this one more than the kids did. Next time I'll play up the rage baby owl lets forth each time someone dares give him (what did he give him, kids?) a great...big...hug.

Finally: Who Hops? by Katie Davis. What can I say? You can do it all day. "Ms. Sally types, Ms. Lauren types, Mr. Joseph types, Fido the dog types. No he doesn't!!!" Kids love a chance to correct authority, and here I'm encouraging it. It was a hit.

I also included a poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar. Seriously. I heard someone reciting "The Seedling" a month or so back at a Harlem Renaissance program and I was struck with inspiration: Flannel Board! The kids were transfixed as ever with our big red not-TV screen, though I realized later it was not enough of a break to keep them from wiggling through the next story. I might add a few felt pieces and work on placing them in rhythm with the poem.

We had a new little boy, too. I think he may have had some developmental delays. He was entranced by everything. So entranced, in fact, that he insisted on standing right in front of my book, blocking everyone else's view. I was so busy managing him and trying to continue with the program that the obvious solution to this problem completely evaded me: Give his Mom a copy of what we're reading! He made it through the first session and half of the second before Mom had had enough and decided it was time to go. I really hope they come back.

Monday, June 9, 2008

962 minutes + 180 minutes =

1142 minutes

Some Friend by Marie Bradby.

Pearl is so busy trying to make friends with the mean popular girl that she can't see the real, albeit raggedy friend in front of her, until it is too late.

At this point, no more capacity for critical analysis. Instinct tells me it was ok, nothing special. It was local, however- apparently Glen Echo park was segregated in 1963 but the National Zoo wasn't (though how you'd enforce that in a park you essentially walk through at your leisure I don't know.)

So final counts (I'm turning in for the night!)

10 Books
1502 pages
1142 minutes, which comes out to about 19 hours 2 minutes

Sunday, June 8, 2008

867 minutes + 95 minutes equals...

962 minutes.

And now for something completely different... Albino Animals!

by Kelly Milner Halls.

This book is certainly eye-catching- it comes in the same color scheme as it's subjects. Of course, this doesn't exactly let them stand out, but surrounding shadows and backgrounds help with this.

Albino Animals includes enough fascinating facts to provide Mongoose graffiti material for months, not only about albinism but about animals in general.

Did you know that heat triggers alligator stomachs to start digesting, that without it the food will simply rot there?

Did you know albino tadpoles are clear- an advantage for survival, at least until they become white frogs that stand out to predators.?

Did you know that you can remove salamander eyes and return them to the sockets and the optic nerves will actually reconnect and start functioning again? (please, no one try this at home unless you're a scientific researcher and have a really good and really significant reason).

Did you know that a female ferret is called a Jill, a spayed female ferret is called a sprite, a male ferret is called a hob, a neutered male ferret is called a gib, a group of ferrets is called a business, and goggles for dogs are called doggles?

The bibliography is extensive and includes interviews, books, magazines, newspapers, and websites (though none specifically earmarked for children). The book also includes a glossary and a broad table of contents.

The editing, however, left something to be desired. The introduction states, "A red bird has red pigment, so it absorbs red." No it doesn't. Red pigment reflects red. That's why it appears red to us. Small typo, perhaps, but not so small if it's a few points off on your science paper.

732 minutes+ 135 minutes =

867 minutes.

The Red Rose Box by Brenda Woods.

Leah Jean receives for her birthday both a red-rose covered overnight box "of femininity" and tickets for her family to visit Aunt Olivia, whom she has never met, in Los Angeles. Her life is never the same, after she discovers that the Jim Crow laws and attitudes of her Louisiana home are not universal. Yet she must reconcile the new world that has opened up to her with the Louisiana that is home, a part of her- particularly when she is forced to make her home in that new world.

Wow. Unique, believable characters (including a little sister that will argue with a big sister's proposition one second and the next turn around with a "me too."), complex story line with many themes: liberation from a land of oppression, paradoxically longing for that land because it is, after all, home, grief, reconciliation, all the best of being part of a family with the not-so-great parts left intact too...there is so much.

On the most basic level- there is something universally attractive about the rags to riches story. This is probably why just about every culture has its own version of "Cinderella."

Simple language describe details that ring true: the giggle happy married people share, the way children tell other children seated at a school lunch table what's what based on what they've experienced. Woods tells us what we already know but have never articulated, and she does it elegantly.

Woods's treatment of religion (mainly Catholicism, with a little of what is presumably evangelical protestantism mixed in) is interesting as well. It isn't reviled or ridiculed, nor is it presented without its inconsistencies. It simply is, sometimes embraced, sometimes rejected, like every other part of who the characters are.

I made more noise during this book than any other I've read so far- laughing out loud at the dialogue, gasping in horror (comes, again, of not reading the book jacket), talking to the characters on occasion.

I loved it.

And found out later it won a Coretta Scott King honor. Not surprised.

642 minutes + 90 minutes=

732 minutes

Home stretch. Nothing stopping me from reading and writing now (except exhaustion! and possibly dinner. When your husband takes the time to heat up a good meal, how can you refuse it?)

Taking Sides by Gary Soto. More character than plot driven. A Mexican- American boy struggles with his identity as he plays basketball for his new, rich, mostly white school against his former, poorer, mostly "brown" school. I think the action- filled basketball scenes might help keep the attention of more reluctant readers.

I was grateful for both the Spanish/English glossary in the back and my husband, who was on hand to translate the basketball lingo (providing diagrams where necessary).

This felt genuine. Romance was slow, hesitant and ambiguous (hey, it's middle school. In the early nineties).

Reminded me strongly of Alexie Sherman's "Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian" in the New rich school vs. old poor school in basketball department. Sherman's protagonist, however, while recognizing the unbalanced abilities of the two teams, sides a little bit more with the new school, if for nothing else but the sake of his own progress and an escape from a slow, likely alcohol-induced, death on the rez. It helps that no one from the old school is booing Soto's protagonist (and that the coach is a jerk).

482 minutes+ 160 minutes =

642 minutes.

Paper Quake by Kathryn Reiss. The teenage protagonists were not entirely convincing (maybe it was the twins, but I kept thinking Sweet Valley High) but the book was dramatic and exciting in unpredictable ways.

Violet, a fraternal triplet with identical sisters, longs to share in her sister's twinness and no longer be the poor sickly one everyone takes care of. Her seemingly irrational fear of their California earthquakes, doesn't help, though.

She finds a new sense of self determination as she continues to uncover letters and diary entries from around the time of the 1906 San Francisco earthquake that eerily parallel her own life. Lead on by these clues, along with mysterious dreams and visions, Violet, her sisters, her best friend, and her new "friend" Sam, unravel the events of the past and race to divine what the past might be trying to tell them about their immediate future- which given Violet's visions of fires and buildings collapsing, doesn't look good.

Took some patience to get through, but the end was worth it.

Finally got in my plot-driven book :)

397 minutes + 85 minutes=

482 minutes.

I was all prepared to like Letters from Rifka by Karen Hesse. Really. But it's the sort of historical fiction, written in letter form, no less, that can't help but hit you over the head with historical exposition.

Rifka's voice is also unconvincing- I'm not sure how you communicate a unique voice in English that is supposed to be writing in Yiddish, but this wasn't it.

It is based on the true story of the author's aunt's immigration to the United States, and Hesse tells it (with blunt historic exposition) so as to give the reader an idea of what immigrants in general went through in the early part of the 20th century. Great as a history lesson. Not so great as literature.

I much prefer Hesse's Witness, a novel about the Ku Klux Klan's activity in a New England town, written in blank verse. Each character is distinct and unique. Each poem is a snapshot of a character at that point of the story, and historical details are given more subtly.

Saturday, June 7, 2008

347 minutes + 50 minutes =

397 minutes.

The Gold Cadillac by Mildred D. Taylor reads like another short story (it's only 43 pages long- ideal for last- minute homework assignments!). Having read Taylor's The Land last year, and struck by descriptions of injustice both subtle and graphic, I began this story of an African- American girl's father, his swanky new ride, and the family trip down to Mississippi with trepidation- is everyone going to make it back alive? I will say that Taylor tells the story simply, and with subtlety. Taylor's young narrator provides a naive child's perspective, similar to what that of the reader might be in a similar situation. Yet the story is not an enigma- the source of the family's at first inexplicable unease is explained. I was somewhat confused, however, whether the narrator was the older or younger daughter- the pictures tend to feature the younger daughter in the foreground, but without the pictures she would not be easy to distinguish.

224 minutes + 123 minutes=

347 minutes.

Just finished Jerry Spinelli's The Library Card. I take back what I said about character development. I just needed characters I could recognize. Miguel and Juanita struck me as a little generic, Tia Lola a little like a Dominican Mary Poppins. Maybe there are lots and lots of Tia Lola's out there that make other readers go: Aha! She had that effect in my life too. Me, not yet.

And then I open The Library Card and confront Mongoose and Weasel, two boys who both seem to be heading for juvenile delinquent- ism as they reach the point where adults don't have total control over them, but they seem to take this to mean that the entire world is at their mercy. Or at least Weasel does. I remember my brother at this stage, though he stuck with toilet paper and never progressed to shoplifting and graffiti.

Weasel's highest ambition is himself, name printed in huge letters on a factory wall, perpetually cruising in a red firebird. Mongoose is starting to see everything beyond himself- and is completely in awe. Mongoose tries to entice Weasel to this wonder. Weasel can only see that his friend is changing, leaving him behind.

And then: Bam!

I suppose I'm to be blamed for not reading the jacket flap. This isn't the first time it's happened to me. Publishers, perhaps you should consider a big warning on the cover of your books: "Warning. Anthology of short stories. Don't get too attached to the characters. You won't see them past page 52."

It's like when I listened to the Diary of Anne Frank, not realizing that the entire last cd was nothing but historical notes, thinking I still had another cd with her before the Nazis took her- how cheated I felt when another voice- not the narrator's- informed me at the beginning of CD twelve that Anne never wrote another entry!

Anyway...

Of course- the thread of the magical library card escalating the conflict or leading to its resolution, tended to by omniscient- seeming librarians, can't help but stroke my ego. Never mind that Mr. Spinelli seems unfamiliar with the ways of story time: has anyone had preschoolers that will sit through Madeleine and Babar in their entireties? Does anyone have volunteers doing story time?

While I definitely preferred "Mongoose" and "Sonseray," all four short stories are well-crafted and thought provoking, and I enjoyed them all thoroughly...I can't help but wonder how a middle schooler is bound to react to them...do they need a little more plot? Are they in a position to recognize the arrogance of pre-teenagerhood that sees a roof as a place from which to "check out your territory, to feel the size of yourself" rather than a prime position from which to view the stars? To recognize and even find comfort in Sonseray's lashing out, which is really a plea for a motherly slap across the face?

One dead mother, but everyone in all stories but Sonseray's still ostensibly with child's other natural parent.

127 minutes + 97 minutes=


224 minutes.

Just finished How Tia Lola came to (Visit Crossed Out) Stay. Title gives you a pretty good idea what it was about, though perhaps How Miguel came to want Tia Lola to stay would be a little more appropriate. Struggled a little bit- maybe I'm up for something more plot driven and less character driven. Use of present tense was interesting, and point of view covering everybody though mostly the older son, Miguel. I'm two for two for books about divorced parents.

two hours, seven minutes


Just finished Halfway to the Sky by Kimberly Brubaker Bradley. After Dani's brother dies and her parents divorce, she runs off intending to hike the Appalachian trail on her own, only to have her mother catch up and decide to tag along. The family is convincingly dysfunctional but not unlikeable. There's a nice mix of family drama and girl finding herself in rugged, sporty endurance. Rough details (prune- y feet, sweat dripping in enumerated places on your body you never think about) not spared. And best of all- I've always dreamed of trying!!!!

Probably not a coincidence I'm starting off my marathon reading reading about a marathon-esque event. I love this stuff. Case in point- participating in breaking a record set in India for the world's longest dance party (India has since taken it back.) (and this article got it wrong: we danced 52 hours, 3 minutes. My feet confirm it. They were there.)

Best part of the book for me: Apparently it still counts as "thru-hiking" the Appalachian trail if you do the whole thing in sections. Hard to see getting sixth months off to do it before I retire...but a week or so once a year...

Won't be winning this marathon- started too late, false started, began on 4 hours sleep and I'm going to need more before it's over. But I'll give this trial run the best I've got in preparation for next year.

Friday, June 6, 2008

48 hour reading challenge

I am now beginning Mother Reader's 48 hour reading challenge.

I understand that this only leaves me about 37 hours with which to work, plus whatever I can glean from breaks, but starting at this point time effective at this point than having time for work, a commute, and the sleeping I did last night deducted.

I will be working on the sixth and seventh grade reading lists for this year, with a preference for the books that neither of my colleagues have read and for which we hold no audio books.

I'm hoping this project will simulate the circumstances in which many of our readers will undoubtedly find themselves towards the end of the summer (Snap! School starts in two days and I haven't started my summer reading!)

For that matter, maybe I should be leaning towards shorter books, too. I noticed a lot of requests for those towards the end of breaks.