Paz Para Vieques: Civic Action Comics

Greetings from Puerto Rico!

For the past week, I've been here in Vieques doing some house-sitting (thanks again for the hookup, Heather!), beach-bumming, hammock-laying, and mofongo-eating.  The natural beauty here is incredible, and I've fallen in love with the flamboyán trees, semi-wild horses, and chirping frogs at night.

Also, this baby iguana says "hey."

However, Vieques is a complicated place with a rocky past and a problematic present.  (Don't get me wrong -- it's a beautiful island full of wonderful people, but its particular struggles are worth noting.)  Basically, back in the 1940s, the US government decided it would be a great idea to use Vieques for target practice.  The Navy, or la Marina in Spanish, purchased a large amount of land on the island and used this space to test bombs and various other weapons, resulting in the contamination of the environment and loss of livelihood for many of the local residents.

Por ejemplo...

In 1999 a Naval employee, David Sanes, was killed when a bomb missed its target during a military exercise, and the world became very aware of Vieques' situation.  Protesters in Puerto Rico, the US, and Latin America demanded that the military withdraw from the island, and by 2003 the Navy was gone.

"Get the Navy out of Vieques"

Protesters in front of the White House

When I first got here, I began to feel down and guilty about the US government's imperialist belief that they can barge into people's homes and make a mess of things.  (To be fair, the US isn't alone in this behavior -- many big, powerful governments do the same.)  But as I've learned more and more about the way that the people of Vieques stood up for themselves, I'm filled with hope.

Then the other day when I visited the old fort, I found another sign of hope and strength in the form of (surprise!) children's literature.  In the museum gift shop, I found three comic books about Vieques and immediately snatched them up.  

When I got home and read through them, I discovered that they were published by el Grupo de Apoyo Técnico y Profesional para el Desarrollo Sustenable de Vieques (GATP, or the Group for Technical and Professional Support for the Sustainable Development of Vieques), an organization of professionals and university professors dedicated to progress and positive development on the island.

Created in 2002, during the height of the protests on Vieques, these books were written by local students and deal with subjects like:

• The military's presence on the island
• Urban planning
• Ecological conservation
• Local social issues (poverty, unemployment, alcoholism, domestic violence, teenage pregnancy)
• Health
• Democratic citizenship and leadership

If you'd like to take a look at all of the books (five total), they're available online here.

How cool is that?!  These books can serve as an excellent model for students who might want to use literature as a strategy to take action against inequity.  Teachers, take note -- writing, illustrating, and disseminating civic action comics is a great way for young people to address problems at school and in the wider world, like bullying, racism, or any other type of injustice.

When I came to Vieques, I never expected to find any products of critical literacy, and encountering these comics made my day and my entire vacation.  They're symbols of resilience that I'll cherish forever.

Next up: El Yunque National Forest and then San Juan.  I'll keep you posted on what I find there!

Kidlit = Sunshine and Rainbows?

This past week, I re-read Elisa Amado's 2007 picture book, Tricycle, for a book club focusing on international children's literature.

With its exploration of classism and socioeconomic inequity, Tricycle definitely isn't a light read, but it's engrossing and more than a little thought-provoking.  Here's a summary from Children's Book Writer:

"Tricycle is about a girl, Margarita, who lives in a big beautiful house, surrounded by a big tall hedge. She climbs the tree in her backyard and sits in the branches. From this vantage point, she can see the volcano that sits in the distance, spewing fire and smoke on a daily basis. She can also see the shack next to her home where a poor family lives. Margarita sometimes climbs into the hedge, where she plays with Rosario, her little friend who lives in the shack with her brother and mother. One day, Margarita watches silently from her perch in the tree as Rosario and her brother steal her tricycle, dragging it to their side of the hedge, hiding it under a box. 

In thirty-two pages and in less than one thousand words, a complete, beautiful story is brought magically to life. It has a heartbeat and a pulse that you don't normally see in the average picture book. The emotional build-up is slow and steady, with an effective use of the volcano -- Fuego -- as a symbol for the uncomfortable undercurrent between rich and poor, as well as the symbol of developing conscience in the child. The reader sees the difference between those who have, and those who have not, and the beginnings of conscience in a young child. Which is more important - a tricycle or friendship? Having possessions or having concern for others? What is the responsibility of a child - do you worry about yourself, or all of those around you? Do you lie to protect a friend? From the safety and comfort of her family, a child learns to have empathy and compassion for others, even if it means losing something in the process."

In order to prepare my presentation on the book for my friends, I headed to Amazon's website to gather some publication details, like the intended age range.  However, something else caught my eye: the customer reviews.  I noticed that seven people had reviewed Tricycle, and most of them had rated it one star (out of five).  Here are some examples of their feedback:

• "Why did a tree have to die for this book? There is no joy in this book, nothing uplifting, encouraging, humorous, etc. So, again I ask, why did the author bother writing this book?"

• "This books is beyond inappropriate for young kids."

• "This is the definition of a horrible book.... Seriously. So bizarre."

• "Don't bother unless you want to have a nice conversation about theft and shooting with your kid."

• "WHAT? Why was this in the kids' section? Why was this written? And why is NONE of it resolved? The book just ends. No explanation. So weird."

• "As I read this to my 3 yr old, you can imagine my surprise as I learned it contained discrimination, theft, lying, and threat of violence. This is the worst book for a kid -- EVER!"

Harsh.  Everyone's entitled to their opinions, obviously, but the severity of these reviews caught me off guard.  Words like "inappropriate," "bizarre," "weird," and "horrible" seem so extreme and unnecessary for what I see as a sensitively wrought examination of poverty and class differences.

So this incident makes me think: Why is there such dissonance between these reviewers' opinions and my own?  It all comes down to views on childhood, really.  Here in the US, lots of people believe that adults should shelter children from the bad things in our world, and this view permeates children's literature.  According to the Amazon opinions above, children's books should contain three things: positivity, moral lessons, and happy endings.

I have encountered this position a lot as a teacher and as a grad student.  If books aren't "uplifting, encouraging, or humorous" and don't have a clear plot resolution, many parents and educators don't want them in their homes and classrooms.  However, many books from other countries (and some from the US) don't always fit this mold.  Some people, both at home and abroad, feel that kids need to learn about challenging issues in our world and that children's literature should therefore tackle heavier issues.

Elisa Amado is originally from Guatemala -- a country where poverty, class division, and crime are very common -- so it's no surprise that she would want to address these problems in her work.  Although these issues aren't quite as widespread here in the US, they definitely do exist.  I personally feel that discussing these realities with children -- once they're mature enough to comprehend them -- can help them learn to cope with the difficult and uncertain aspects of life and to think critically about societal problems.

Reality.

And even if someone doesn't agree with that perspective (which is fine!), it saddens me that they'd use such unkind vocabulary to describe a book like Tricycle just because it doesn't fit their definition of "children's book."  Much to my relief, one of the Amazon reviewers agrees with me:

• "The protagonist lives in a mansion. Her next door neighbors are painfully poor. One day, they steal her bicycle. For reasons all her own, she says nothing. But when she overhears adults talking badly -- threatening what she does not understand is figurative violence -- about them, she becomes literally sick with envy.  I grew up in an island where the good neighborhood was a block away from tin-roofed slums. Later on, I lived in a city in the states where crack houses and beautiful mansions stood side-by-side. So I both get and appreciate the class distinctions that this book refers to.  I was surprised at all the 1 star reviews of this book. Yes, it is a very unusual book. Yes, the ending leaves a lot unresolved (but, hey, that's life). And yes, it is probably inappropriate for very young children. But the 'very young' are not the only ones that picture books are made for."

What do you think?  Should children's literature help protect kids from the bad things in the world?  Or should it present the world as it really is?

Take Action: Book Drive for Unaccompanied Immigrant Children

I’m sure you’ve heard a lot about the crisis with the unaccompanied migrant children whom US immigration officials have detained after they crossed the border.  When I first heard about it, I felt stunned and paralyzed – it’s such a painful situation, and there doesn’t seem to be much that we regular citizens can do.

To make matters worse, politicians (on both sides) are trying to turn this humanitarian crisis into a political situation, and a lot of people seem to be forgetting the real heart of the issue – these children and the violence and poverty that they have fled in Central America.  I understand that we in the US don’t have the facilities to adequately cope with this problem, but surely there’s something we can do.  They are children.

Fortunately, the folks at La Casa Azul Bookstore in East Harlem have joined forces with the Unaccompanied Latin American Minor Project at John Jay College and Safe Passage Project to host a book drive for the young people who have been apprehended by immigration and then transferred to NYC, where they await deportation proceedings.

Although collecting books isn’t going to solve the larger problems of crime and poverty in Central America and immigration reform in the US, this action can help comfort the children and provide them with something to do at the detention center.  They face an uncertain future, and, as many of us know, books can generate hope and solace.

Therefore, please consider donating.  You can find more detailed information here at La Casa Azul’s book drive website and in these articles from the LA Times and NBC News.

If you’d like to donate some books, please also remember that the organizers are asking for books that are in Spanish and also culturally relevant.  In other words, stories should be pertinent to young Central American and Mexican children’s experiences – stories to which they can potentially relate.  Additionally, books should be new or gently used, appropriate for children between the ages of 4 and 13, and high quality literature.

The book drive starts TODAY (July 10^th) and runs through August 10^th, so let’s get busy!

UPDATE:

For another way to help, check out the Florence Immigrant and Refugee Rights Program.