Review: Manlio Argueta's Magic Dogs of the Volcanoes

Title: Magic Dogs of the Volcanoes / Los perros mágicos de los volcanes
Author: Manlio Argueta (El Salvador)
Illustrator: Elly Simmons (US)
Publisher: Children's Book Press
Ages: 4+

Imagine a picture book that can be a powerful, entertaining, and appealing educational tool for preschoolers and high schoolers alike.  Drawing from the folklore of his native El Salvador, renowned author and political activist Manlio Argueta delivers with Magic Dogs of the Volcanoes / Los perros mágicos de los volcanes.  In this book, Argueta introduces readers to cadejos, mythical Central American creatures with the looks of a wolf and the grace of a deer.  According to legend, cadejos live around volcanoes (who are their great-great-grandparents), eat the seeds of morning glory flowers, and protect the local people from harm.

Everyone loves the cadejos and their kindness, except for Don Tonio, a rich landowner, and his thirteen brothers, who employ – or overwork, rather – the townspeople.  These men believe that the cadejos’ care makes the people weak and lazy, so they call upon some “lead soldiers” to get rid of the kindly creatures.  Fortunately, the cadejos have the power of invisibility, which helps them evade the soldiers at first.  However, when the men begin killing the morning glories, the creatures’ only food source, the cadejos’ volcanic ancestors must come to the rescue.

This book has something to teach students of all ages.  Younger children will enjoy the magical story, experiencing the folklore of El Salvador, and learning how another culture values and respects the natural world.  They’ll also love Elly Simmons’ detailed, earth-toned pastel illustrations, which clearly convey the candejos’ friendly mischief and bring the massive volcanoes to life.

Meanwhile, Argueta’s tale is also perfect for older students interested in Latin American history and politics.  Written during the final years of the Salvadoran Civil War – during which oligarchs and the military oppressed and terrorized rural civilians – Magic Dogs of the Volcanoes / Los perros mágicos de los volcanes mirrors this turmoil with its portrayal of conflict between the elitist Don Tonio, his lead soldiers, and the townspeople who must rely on their (super)natural surroundings for help.

Moreover, the book’s side-by-side bilingual format makes it a helpful text for Spanish and English learners of any age.  Argueta’s inclusion of words unique to Central America, such as cadejo, cipote (child), and the local names for two volcanoes (Tecapa and Chaparrastique) gives the language a distinctly Salvadoran flavor. 

Ash cloud over Chaparrastique

I’m so grateful that I stumbled across this multifaceted tale in my local public library, and I recommend that you run out and borrow or buy a copy – you won’t regret it.  Also, for more information on the author and teaching this book, check out the following links:  

• Interview with Manlio Argueta

• Teaching guide

Review: Samuel Caraballo's Estas manos / These Hands

Title: Estas manos: Manitas de mi familia / These Hands: My Family's Hands
Author: Samuel Caraballo (Puerto Rico, US)
Illustrator: Shawn Costello (US)
Publisher: Arte Público / Piñata Books
Ages: 4+

In my children's literature courses, my professors, classmates, and I have talked a lot about how picture books can be just as beneficial for adults as they are for kids.  While I've always smiled and nodded during these discussions, the truth of that statement never really hit me until I read Estas manos: Manitas de mi familia / These Hands: My Family's Hands, Samuel Caraballo's gentle poem about the importance of loving and supporting your family.

During the first half of the book, the narrator, a little girl, describes how her family members' hands give her strength.  Her mother's hands, which she compares to rose petals, soothe her.  Her father's hands, mahogany trees, catch her when she falls.  Her siblings' hands, blooming oak trees, pat her on the back and give her encouragement.  Her grandmother's hands, magical lilies, tickle her and teach her to dance.  Her grandfather's hands, ceiba trees, show her how to care for the earth.  Then, after expressing her thanks to her family for their love and guidance, the little girl acknowledges that she will provide the same kind of support for them as she and they grow older.

Full disclosure: I teared up as I read this book.  It's sweet and loving without being heavy-handed or cheesy, and it reminded me that, during a stressful semester's end amidst papers and conferences and deadlines, my family and friends are supporting me.  And I'm in love with Shawn Costello's soft, swirling pastel illustrations that precisely capture the warm, colorful relationships presented in the text.

But enough about me.  This book is also great for children!  The dual language format makes the text accessible to both young Spanish and English speakers, and teachers can draw on Caraballo's simple yet rich language to help their students learn about poetry and effective literary devices -- repetition, strong imagery, onomatopoeia.

However, the most striking feature of Caraballo's poem is his consistent use of symbolism.  As I mentioned above, he compares family members' hands to different plants and flowers, and in an afterword, he explains the special meaning each plant holds in Latin America.  Roses represent tenderness; mahogany trees, strength; oak trees, friendship; lilies, happiness; and ceiba trees, life and wisdom.  Because of the clear parallels Caraballo draws between these natural objects and the warm feelings family members elicit, Estas manos / These Hands is ideal for introducing children to the use of symbols in writing.

A ceiba tree on Vieques Island,

where Caraballo grew up.

If you're interested in using this book to teach poetry, check out the following helpful links:

• Scholastic's Writing with Writers

• Using Symbolism to Deepen Comprehension (for younger kids)

• Using Children's Literature to Teach Symbolism and Allegory (for older kids)

And if you've read this book, tell me what you think!  Wishing you a happy December!

Dismantling the Thanksgiving Myth: Helpful Links

As I've mentioned before, I was terrified of angering parents when I was a classroom teacher.  Because of this fear, I shied away talking about anything controversial with my students -- including Thanksgiving.  I've known for a long time the mythical nature of the United States' beloved Thanksgiving story, but since I didn't want to be accused of "playing the race card" or "harming children's innocence," I avoided the Pilgrim-and-Indian story altogether.

None o' this.

Instead, I focused on the basic practice of being thankful.  There are some great books out there that focus on gratitude without dragging in the Thanksgiving myth -- my personal favorite is Pat Mora's Gracias/Thanks, a wonderful reminder to be thankful for the little things in life.  Also, my students and I made "We Are Thankful for..." books.  It was a great time.

However, while there's nothing wrong with emphasizing gratitude (which, after all, should be the focus of such a holiday), I see now that simply ignoring the Thanksgiving myth won't make it go away.  Even if we educators don't actively perpetuate the story at school, kids will pick it up somewhere else from popular media that often portrays an incorrect, racist version of the Pilgrims' arrival in Plymouth.

Whoops.

So in addition to celebrating gratitude, it's important to dismantle the legend so that kids don't internalize false, harmful information about Thanksgiving.  I know it's a little late to talk about the holiday in schools, but it's never too early for teachers to start planning discussions and activities for next year, and parents still have time to address these issues with their children at home.

And if, like me, you're at a loss for strategies to begin critical discussions of the Thanksgiving myth, check out these links:

• "Good Books about Thanksgiving" at American Indians in Children's Literature

• "Deconstructing the Myths of the 'First Thanksgiving'" in popular elementary-level books

• "6 Thanksgiving Myths" at Indian Country Today

• "10 Thanksgiving Myths Dispelled" at Today I Found Out

• "Harvest Ceremony: Beyond the Thanksgiving Myth" at the National Museum of the American Indian

• Strategies for critiquing the Thanksgiving story with young children at Education World

• Thanksgiving lesson plan for middle/high school at Teaching Tolerance

• Arts-based Thanksgiving lesson plan for high school at Arts and Justice (can be adapted for younger children)

I hope you have a warm and safe holiday, and, as always, let me know your thoughts on critical literacy topics like this one!

Review: Monica Brown's Clara and the Curandera

Title: Clara and the Curandera / Clara y la curandera
Author: Monica Brown (Arizona, US)
Illustrator: Thelma Muraida (Texas, US)
Publisher: Arte Público / Piñata Books
Ages: 4+

Whenever I felt grumpy or down as a child, my parents suggested that I try helping others in order to get my mind off of myself, and I found that this strategy often did the trick.  Later, as an early childhood teacher, I advised my students to do the same whenever they were having a difficult time escaping a grumpy mood.  In Clara and the Curandera / Clara y la curandera, Monica Brown addresses this topic in a warm, gentle manner that can both counsel and entertain young readers. 

As the story opens, Clara is irritated – at having to take out the trash, at her reading homework, at sharing with her siblings.  Her mother, fed up with Clara’s foul mood, exasperatedly demands that she go see the wise curandera (traditional healer, or, in this case, a wise older woman) down the hall.  When the kind curandera asks her about her problems, Clara confesses that she’s “tired of not having any space to [herself]” (n.p.).  The older woman quickly replies that, in addition to performing all of her regular tasks, she must also take out her elderly neighbors’ trash, share all of her toys with her siblings, and read not one but five books during the next week.  

Reluctantly, Clara agrees, and she soon finds that following the curandera’s instructions has improved her mood.  She suddenly takes great pleasure in helping her neighbors, spending time with her family, and, most of all, reading at the library.  In the end, Clara decides to continue heeding the curandera’s advice.

In addition to teaching children about the joys of giving and learning, this dual language book can help both Spanish and English learners develop their language skills -- especially vocabulary related to emotions (enojada/annoyed, sorprendida/surprised, feliz/happy).  Meanwhile, Thelma Muraida's soft, warm pencil illustrations reinforce the plot, while small retablo-style drawings placed in between the English and Spanish text delight the eye as young readers work their way through the story.

Furthermore, teachers can use this book (and others) to help their students learn more about curanderismo, or the traditional healing arts popular in Latin America and parts of the US with deep Latin@ heritage.  While the curandera in this book simply dispenses wisdom, other curander@s are practitioners of herbal medicines, midwifery, and spiritual healing.  Therefore, this book might be a good addition to learning units about occupations, community helpers, and the diversity of Latin American / Latin@ cultures.  For more resources, please see the links below:

• Article explaining traditional curanderismo

• Interview with Monica Brown about her book

• La Bloga post: "La Curandera's Role in Children's Books"

Review: Amalia Astorga's Efraín of the Sonoran Desert

Title: Efraín of the Sonoran Desert
Authors: Amalia Astorga (Mexico), as told to Gary Paul Nabhan (US)
Illustrator: Janet K. Miller (US)
Publisher: Cinco Puntos Press
Age range: 6+

It's Native American Heritage Month, and while we we're hopefully considering Native American issues (both historical and contemporary) year-round, it's a good time to collectively focus on the diversity and contributions of indigenous Americans to within their communities and larger society.  (And by "Americans," I mean North and South Americans.)

Therefore, I'll be taking a look at a book I've been wanting to review for a long time -- Efraín of the Sonoran Desert.  This book tells of the Seri people (or Comcaac, as they call themselves) of northern Mexico and their relationship with endangered local lizards.  

Like this guy.

In an introduction, famed ecologist Gary Paul Nabhan shares a story about a visit to a Comcaac town, where he notices that several species of endangered lizards are thriving around the people.  His curiosity leads him to ask a local woman, Amalia Astorga, what she knows about the animals.

At this point, Astorga assumes the role of narrator and tells the tale of her friendship with Efraín, a lizard she nurtured for seven years.  It becomes clear that the Comcaacs' care for local animals is helping them thrive while habitat destruction in other parts of the desert is endangering all kinds of wildlife.

Overall, I have mixed feelings about this book, but I'll start my review with what I like.  First, I like that Astorga shares her own story -- she's even listed as the author of the book.  Since the dominant culture so often silences the voices of indigenous people, it's wonderful to see that Astorga's voice is included here.  Her story matters.

Second, I like how this book privileges the Comcaac people's views on conservation.  In the Americas, our way of "doing science" is heavily influenced by European-style research and practice.  We tend to trust knowledge backed up by intricate instruments, the scientific method, and peer-reviewed studies -- not that there's anything wrong with that.  Meanwhile, however, we often dismiss indigenous knowledge, or the various ways that indigenous peoples, like the Comcaac, study and understand the natural world.

There are various useful ways of knowing the world.

In other words, we've been socialized to trust the word of a college-trained ecologist like Gary Paul Nabhan -- an outsider who has spent relatively little time in the Sonoran desert over the word of a woman like Amalia Astorga -- who has spent her life interacting with the animals in her local environment.  Therefore, it's a relief to read Astorga's own words, to hear her ideas and understandings.

Lastly, I like how Nabhan describes how the Comcaac people are in charge of their lives and their contemporary situation without casting them as victims or noble savages.  Their population is small, and there are pressures to assimilate into "mainstream" Mexican society, but these people aren't doomed.  Instead, adults "are actively teaching their language and traditions to their children so that language loss will never occur in their homeland" (p. 28).  They're real people facing challenges and preserving their cultural practices in the real world.

But.

I find several aspects of this book problematic.  For instance, Astorga's story is sandwiched between several pages of introduction and epilogue from Nabhan.  Why does he have to frame her story?  Do we need a "real scientist" (i.e., someone holding degrees from US universities) to vouch for her?  Why can't we just focus on Astorga's viewpoints?  I'd really rather read her descriptions of her community in addition to her story about Efraín.

Also, I'm uncomfortable with the language Nabhan uses to describe the Comcaac.  First, he calls them "Seri" -- a name given to them by outsiders -- even though the local people prefer to call themselves "Comcaac."  Why not use their actual community name?  Then there's the phrase "endangered people" (pp. 4, 26).  Yes, I understand that he's quoting anthropologists, and yes, many indigenous people's traditional ways of living are under threat, but I just don't like that phrase.  In English, we so often use the word "endangered" to describe species of animals, so I'm not comfortable using that word to label humans.

Finally, I wish the publishers had invited a Comcaac artist to illustrate the book.  Janet K. Miller's illustrations are lovely, but I'd rather see art from the community.

Well, my response to this book is messy, but there it is.  What do you think?  Agree?  Disagree?  Let me know!

Review: Raúl Colón's Draw!

Title: Draw!
Author & Illustrator: Raúl Colón (US, Puerto Rico)
Publisher: Paula Wiseman Books
Ages: 4+

Despite the growing popularity of children's books celebrating multicultural art and artists of color, it's important to continue diversifying literature about the arts and to introduce young artists to role models with different backgrounds and experiences.  That's why I'm so excited about Raúl Colón's new wordless picture book, Draw!

In this book, Colón explores the power of art by depicting an imaginary journey to Africa.  Using his drawing skills as a vehicle, the main character -- a semi-autobiographical version of the author/illustrator, who suffered from chronic asthma as a child and was often confined to his bed -- leaves his bedroom and visits various parts of the continent, where he sketches a friendly elephant, an ornery rhinoceros, a sleepy hippo, and a PB&J-loving gorilla.  (If you'd like to learn more about the inspiration behind the book, you can read this SLJ interview or listen to Colón describe the experience at TeachingBooks.net.)

What I love most about this work is Colón's trademark style -- the rich colors, the almost pointillistic look, and the nuanced expressions he gives to both humans and animals.  The illustrations are simultaneously playful and inspiring, and budding artists will easily identify with the main character's desire to escape his everyday surroundings and paint something unfamiliar and beautiful.

Furthermore, educators can use Draw! as a springboard for several different types of lessons.  Literacy teachers can take their students on a picture walk through the pages and encourage children to supply their own narration in the absence of text.  Art teachers can use the book to emphasize the importance of creative expression and how creating and viewing art can serve as a portal to other worlds.  And science teachers can pair this book with others to introduce the diversity of wildlife in Africa (as long as they're careful to point out that gorillas don't live in the same ecosystems as the other animals depicted in this book).

Enjoy this book, and share it with children of all ages!

Review: Alma Flor Ada & Isabel Campoy's Yes! We Are Latinos

Title: Yes! We Are Latinos
Authors: Alma Flor Ada (Cuba, US) & Isabel Campoy (Spain, US)
Illustrator: David Diaz (US)
Publisher: Charlesbridge
Age range: 9+

I've been wanting to review this book ever since it came out last year, and I'm so excited to finally share it with you!  Yes! We Are Latinos is a stunning collection of poetry created by two prolific writers and scholars, Alma Flor Ada and Isabel Campoy.  Whether working separately or as a team, Ada and Campoy always produce thoughtful, charming works of children's literature -- and with this book, they've outdone themselves.

The purpose of Yes! We Are Latinos is to share and explain the diversity of Latin@ people living in the United States.  Rather than being a homogenous group, Latin@s have different ethnic backgrounds, live in different parts of the country, and speak different languages.  Therefore, each clear, uncluttered poem represents a fictional individual who shares information about his/her background and life with readers.

For example, Susana -- who has Sephardic Jewish heritage -- loves listening to her grandmother sing old, traditional songs and is trilingual -- fluent in English, Spanish, and Ladino (also known as Judeo-Spanish).

Felipe -- who identifies as Panamanian, Venezuelan, and Black -- wants to protect his cousin Angelita, who has Down Syndrome, from verbally abusive bullies.  But he wants to be her "champion" through painting, not fighting (p. 60).

Best friends Lili and Michiko -- who are Guatemalan-Chinese-American and Peruvian-Japanese-American, respectively --  are excited to learn more about their immigrant grandparents' home countries and languages.  However, they're also tired of telling people that they can, in fact, be simultaneously Asian-American and Latina.

Supplementing these poems are informative prose explanations of various historical events (slavery, the expulsion of Spain's Jewish population in the Middle Ages, the Spanish Civil War) and ongoing practices (immigration, the struggle for indigenous rights in the Americas) that clearly explain how the past and present have shaped the various ways to be Latin@.  Meanwhile, David Diaz' intricate black-and-white cut-out illustrations emphasize the poems without distracting readers from the text.

By exploring their characters' roots, struggles, and hopes, Ada and Campoy show readers the nuances of being Latin@ and successfully stress how Latin@ people lead very different lives and construct their identities in their own ways.

Because of Yes! We Are Latinos' true and loving celebration of diversity, teachers can easily incorporate it into an anti-bias curriculum.  After reading the poems together, teachers can also encourage students to write their own identity poems in which they describe their cultural backgrounds, family histories, personal interests, and the intersections of these complex facets of their lives.  

The poems are also wonderful resources for language learning.  Since Ada and Campoy weave Spanish seamlessly into their English-language verse, students of all language backgrounds can learn about the complexity of code-switching.  Moreover, the new Spanish translation of this book can be a great text for bilingual and Spanish as a Heritage/Foreign Language classrooms.

So go check out Yes! We Are Latinos!  But you don't have to take my word for it.