Book reviews for the Early Childhood Educator

My latest book review column is out in the Early Childhood Educator journal. Unfortunately current content for the journal isn't available online, but you now see older articles including one of my earlier book review columns called: Let Children Take the Lead with Wordless Books.

This month's theme is Aboriginal childcare, and my column features some of my favorite Aboriginal pictures books including:



Zoe and the Fawn, written by Catherine Jameson (Shuswap/Okanagan/Syilx), illustrated by Julie Flett (Métis)






The Little Hummingbird by Michael Nicoll Yahgulanaas (Haida)





Lii Yiiboo Nayaapiwak Lii Swer: L'alfabet Di Michif = Owls See Clearly at Night : a Michif Alphabet. by Julie Flett (Métis)







Learn the Colours with Northwest Coast Native Art (and other titles in the board book series), created by Native Northwest Educational Resources





Shi-shi-etko by Nicola I. Campbell (Interior Salish/Métis), Illustrated by Kim LaFave






I also talk about the BC Aboriginal Child Care Society and some of their excellent lending resources. If you're in British Columbia, check them out. They have lots of valuable resources developed for Aboriginal child care centers, including ECE curriculum boxes which can be borrowed for use in circle time or other activities. Their "Moe the Mouse" speech and language development program is a fabulous resource developed by two speech-language pathologists for the BC Aboriginal Child Care Society. Rather than singling out children who have difficulty making certain speech sounds, and focusing on repetitive “corrective” or “teaching” exercises, this program uses an appealing mouse character to present fun speech and language activities to an entire circle time group, with a focus on aboriginal content. Children who need extra help get a fun supportive low-pressure atmosphere to practice their sounds, and everyone has lots of fun. We recently had the training at our library, and my colleagues who use this in their outreach programming report that the kids love Moe!

Check out the journal article for more information on these books and resources.

hooray for audiobooks!

Okay, so I've recently been recovering from a concussion. I don't suggest it, really. Especially if you're also daylighting as a librarian. But while I've been unable to read any books over about 15 pages recently, I've been listening to audiobooks. Thank you universe for audiobooks. Without which I might seriously have lost it.

I'll try to share a few of my favourites. To begin:

The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian, written and read by Sherman Alexie

Not only is Sherman Alexie a talented writer, and funny as fuck, he's also a fantastic speaker and storyteller. You've probably heard of this book already - it's (fairly) received a lot of great press. But this is also one of those rare treats where we get to hear the original author read their own work, with the knowledge that no one else could possibly have done a better job. The book follows the adventures of fourteen year-old Arnold Spirit (AKA "Junior") as he decides to head out beyond the world of the rez and attend high school in the nearby (and overwhelming white) small town farming community, while still living at home on the reservation. Alexie doesn't shy away from the difficult, and this story has more than its fair share of death and heart-wrench, but it also has its own brand of smart, cutting, dorky, honest and deeply perceptive humour. And by humour I mean don't risk drinking milk while you listen to this story. I know the original has comics included, but somehow this version didn't leave me feeling like I'd missed anything. A truly consummate audiobook.

Check out Sherman Alexie's website under "Audio" for an mp3 clip from the audiobook, and for a list of the stupid number of awards and prizes this book/audiobook has received. Of particular note for the audio version is the Earphones award from AudioFile. AudioFile is a fantastic review source just for audiobooks - check out the AudioFile review here (and click on "listen" for an excerpt.)

Another book from the Serendipity Conference...

Einarson, Earl. The Moccasins. Illus. by Julie Flett. Theytus Books Ltd., 2005.

There is no lack of picture books about unconditional love (Mama Do You Love Me? and Love you Forever jump to mind) but, done well, it isn't something I get tired of seeing. How often, though, do we get stories of unconditional love set in a foster family? Luckily this is not only a book the world needs, it is also a charming, well-written and generally appealing book. The Moccasins tells the story of a child whose foster mother gives him a gift of moccasins to help him feel proud of his Aboriginal background. Much in the way children are able to grant special powers to toys (the Velveteen Rabbit) or blankets (Linus), the moccasins make physically tangible the love, pride and comfort that the boy's mother offers him with this gift. And somehow Einarson, with the help of illustrator Julie Flett, is able to transfer some of the magic into this book so that the object of the book itself seems immensely comforting. The text is simple and straightforward, with very few linguistic tricks, but it is unexpectedly moving. The love and care pictured in this particular family might not reflect the experience of every child growing up in a foster family (or any kind of family for that matter), but that is doesn't mean this is any less of an essential book. The fact that it is based on the author's own experience might be part of what makes it moving - or perhaps it's just a good story.

And Julie Flett. Wow. I tell you, this is a woman to watch out for. Her computer-aided collages combine a spare playful contemporary aesthetic with the kind of emotional expressiveness that makes children's books sing. I like like like. Check out her next book, Zoe and the Fawn to see more of the magic she can make. In The Moccasins, I found the first illustration particularly moving in its ability to convey almost viscerally the sense of comfort and safety suggested by the text: When I was young, my foster brothers and I slept together in one room. My bed was on the far end. I always waited until I heard them sleeping before I would fall asleep. I felt warm and loved.

I wish this book was the standard 32 pages rather than 16 - the text would survive being spread out a little and, more importantly, it would give the book room for more illustrations. As is stands, the book features only six pages of primary illustration, plus secondary illustrations on the pages with text. It seems unnecessarily short to me, but maybe that's just because I was enjoying it. This shorter length, combined with the soft cover and the small size (6"x8"?), might make the book seem less serious as a picture book than it really is. And that's unfortunate because this story deserves all the attention it can get.

I finally got my copy of this book (thanks Mom!), because at the conference the entire stack of them disappeared within minutes of Earl Einarson's and Julie Flett's talks. No great surprise there. I'm hoping Earl Einarson's got some more stories in him...

Shi-shi-etko

Campbell, Nicola. Shi-shi-etko. Illus. Kim LaFave. Toronto: Groundwood Books, 2005.

"One, two, three, four mornings left until I go to school." So begins the story of Shi-shi-etko, a young aboriginal girl who is soon to be taken from her family and sent to a residential school. In her last four days with her family, Shi-shi-etko gathers together memories of her home to hold with her until she can return the following summer.

This gentle but profoundly moving story introduces one of the most abhorrent chapters of Canadian history - the story of the forceful and legally sanctified removal of aboriginal children from their families and communities. At the Serendipity conference yesterday, it was fascinating to hear Nicola Campbell speak about trying to find a balance that would allow her to honour the harsh realities of this part of our history and share it with children without simply traumatizing them. It can't have been an easy task, but somehow she has managed to write this book with equal respect for the hearts of the children who will hear this story and the realities of the children who lived this story.

In the way that intense sadness can charge the everyday things around us with incredible sharpness and beauty, the weight of what is about to be lost fills this story with a sense of beauty and connection and quiet focused attention that only makes the impending departure more heartbreaking. The illustrations by Kim LaFave are digitally created, some borrowing from photographs taken by the author, but they have a rich painterly feel that matches Campbell's story. Like the text, the illustrations illuminate the beauty of each plant, place and person that is a part of the coming loss. The images manage to convey joy, wonder and a sense of belonging at the same time as they hold great grief.

Shi-shi-etko is not a textbook that will explain the details or legacy of residential school system to children; instead it is a beautifully told and very human story that offers readers a connected point of entry into a much larger story.

We also got a sneak preview of Nicola's next book, Shinchi's Canoe, which tells the story of Shi-shi-etko's younger brother Shinchi, and takes place primarly at the residential school itself. Another beautifully told story, due out this July.

Serendipity Children's Lit Conference

"Our people will sleep for a hundred years and when they awaken it will be the artists that give them back their spirit." - Louis Riel

As a person with a profound belief in the power of story, I love the way these words shine a light on the importance of art and story as acts of creation, survival, healing, connection and delight. And what better place to hear them than smack in the middle of a day dedicated to sharing and honouring Canadian Aboriginal children's literature.

Serendipity is an annual conference organized by the Vancouver Children's Literature Roundtable's in celebration of children's literature. And it was worth leaving my house at an ungodly hour last Saturday morning to join a few hundred librarians, writers, teachers, students and lovers of children's literature who gathered in the UBC First Nations Longhouse to hear about the stories behind some of the most beautifully crafted, thoughtful, and moving children's books coming out in Canada today.

Usually I am not much of a fan of all the introductory speechifying at conferences, but after an introduction to the Longhouse by Richard Vedan, a welcome speech by Steven Point that defied the stuffiness of his Lieutenant Governor title, and several heartfelt welcomes, I could feel a palpable difference in the room. We were all ready to get down to story. And what stories there were. We laughed; we cried; we watched a rogue squirrel face off with the leftover bannock and salmon sandwiches. All in all, it was a pretty fine day.

I met some new (stunning!) books, and got to hear the stories behind ones I knew. But, more than anything, I felt incredibly lucky to be entering a profession where story is recognized as a sustaining force in the world. From speakers to casual conversations, so much about the day reaffirmed for me that I was in the right place as a children's librarian. This is professional development? Shhh.... don't tell anyone what a wonderful time we had.

The rockstars of the day were:


Nicola Campbell: Author of Shi-shi-etko and the forthcoming Shinchi's Canoe (two picture books that tell the story of the residential school system in Canada)





Earl Einarson: Author of The Moccasins






Julie Flett: Illustrator of Zoe and the Fawn (CM review) and The Moccasins







Diane Silvey: Author of numerous novels and information books for children including The Kids book of Aboriginal Peoples in Canada (CM review)






Richard Van Camp: Author of several books including Welcome Song for Baby, A Man Called Raven, and What's the Most Beautiful Thing You Know About Horses?







Leo Yerxa: Author and illustrator of several books including Ancient Thunder and Last Leaf First Snowflake to fall

Lesser Blessed

Van Camp, Richard. The Lesser Blessed. Vancouver: Douglas & McIntyre, 1996.

This is not a review, it is simply a recommendation. This novel knocked me on my ass and you should probably go read it. Please go read a review (maybe this review), as I'm probably not going to write one. This is a big big story stuffed into a short 119 pages. It is also stunning and hard and very funny and beautiful and utterly readable.

What's the most beautiful thing you know about horses?

Van Camp, Richard. What's the most beautiful thing you know about horses? Illus. George Littlechild. Children's Book Press, 2003.

My new favourite picture book of the week! (I'd heard about it but hadn't read it until I was putting together a display of Canadian authors for National Aboriginal Day.)

On a cold cold day in Fort Smith, Northwest Territories, Richard Van Camp (I would say narrator but I really want to believe that the author did do this) passes the time by calling everyone he knows and asking them to tell him the most beautiful thing they know about horses. The answers are by turns funny, touching, quirky, impossible, and lyrical but they always have the ring of true dialogue. George Littlechild's stunning illustrations use vibrant colours, bold blocky shapes and expressive lines that speak to the act of drawing and creating. The images manage to be both direct and stylized, childlike and sophisticated. This is a charming, moving and gently surprising book. Unmissable.

A man called Raven

Van Camp, Richard. A man called Raven. Illus. George Littlechild. San Francisco: Children's Book Press, 1997.

When two boys mistreat a raven, a strange man they've never seen before appears to tell them a story about a man in another time and place. This man also mistreats ravens and as a consequence he is turned into raven, and unable to return to his community of people. Slowly he changes and learns to look out for his people. And sometimes, when the people are forgetting something, he changes back into a man, but never for long. The vivid colours and simple energetic shapes of the pastel and paint illustrations are reminiscent of expressive children's crayon drawings at first, but these bold and expressive images also convey character and facial expressions at a very sophisticated level and make visual reference to traditional styles. The movement and energy of the illustrations are a perfect fit for the magical shape-shifting underlay of story and the sense of wonder and realization that the narrative moves towards at the close. Both the narrative and the images work together to suggest (without much doubt) the real identity of the mysterious visitor as he leaves at the end of the story, but neither tells the reader the information directly. This book uses the traditional figure of Raven to reinforce the importance of respect for nature and for fellow creatures.

Coyote's new suit

King, Thomas. Coyote's new suit. Illus. Johnny Wales. Toronto: Key Porter Kids, 2004.

When Coyote boasts about his beautiful suit, Raven can't resist teasing him and using Coyote's vanity to wreak havoc in the forest. Soon Coyote's quest for the ultimate suit leaves many of his fellow creatures without fur and forces them to the edge of town where humans hang out their discarded clothes on lines just waiting (or so Raven promises) for someone to come claim them. Chaos breaks out when Coyote has a yard sale and the humans, who are busy trying on his collection of animal suits to replace their missing clothes, meet up with a bizarrely dressed crew of forest animals. Watercolour (and pencil?) illustrations play up the humour of the situation, especially the clothing swaps. Thomas King draws on various First Nations characters and storytelling traditions to create this story: The narrative is strong, conversational, funny, irreverent and full of trickster humour; Coyote and Raven, both tricksters, are the primary players in the story; and the long-ago past ("when animals and human beings still talked to each other") blends seamlessly with the present (baseball games, supermarkets, bingo, gold-foil pedal pushers). A playful fun story in which one trickster is out-witted by another and, as the ending suggests, doesn't ever really seem to learn his lesson.

Ancient Thunder

Yerxa, Leo. Ancient Thunder. Toronto, ON: House of Anansi Press, 2006.

The text is simple, short, potent and full of wonder. The fact that it doesn't follow the linear structure of a traditional English sentence, choosing instead to string together a series of related clauses with an unmentioned subject, puts it more in the realm of poetry than narrative. But the illustrations are the true focus of this book: using paint on watercolour paper, Leo Yerxa (an artist of Ojibway ancestry) recreates the look of traditional painted leather clothing of the native people of the Great Plains. The story is told through the designs on the back of the shirts and dresses, with other collaged or paper-crafted elements added in the background.

That being said, the text does not pale in the shadow of the illustrations but works with it. Not only does the lyrical language suit the mood of the images, it also creates a dependency between illustration and text since the visual cues are needed to understand the text which never once names the horses as the main focus of what is essential a song of praise for these creatures and their prairie landscape. A visually stunning and extraordinary book that celebrates horses and their place in lives of the native people of the Great Plains.