ABOUT KIDS' BOOKS
By Kelly pomeroy
Vol. 1, No. 1; June 2000
(click on pictures for ordering info)
OK, I admit it. I was naïve. I thought the best way to judge children's books would be to have the kids vote. But how to do that - ?
I figured if I took a vote by show of hands, the students would unduly influence each other. So I made up ballots. Each child was to circle the picture of the girl or boy to indicate their sex, write in their age, and then circle the two smiley faces, the single smiley face, the neutral face, the single frowning face or the two frowning faces. I knew the kids would still see how the others at their table were voting, but that was better than be influenced by the whole class.
It turned out not to be that easy to get the kids to understand and follow the instructions. It wasn't even obvious to all students which picture represented the girl and which the boy! I don't know whether that says something about our times, or the fact that I was printing color clip art in black and white. That, and the fact that I intentionally put the girl first, to counteract the usual "boys and girls".
I also complicated things by asking for separate votes on the story and the artwork. Not only did that add confusion to the instructions, but I really don't think the children are used to distinguishing those two elements in judging a book.
I am finding that the kids tend to like all the books--which, in a way, throws a monkey wrench into things. Youngsters that age are not good at articulating what they like or don't like about a book, and if I simply ask if they would like to hear the story again sometime, they say yes. Maybe I need an applause meter to judge the forcefulness with which they say it.
I also wonder how much of their reaction has to do with how well or badly I read the book, so that someone else might get a different reaction? And how much are they conditioned to give the answer they think I want to hear?
Beyond that, there may be valuable lessons the adult wants to teach which give a book value independently of whether the child thinks the story is great, good, or just OK. Such a book is:
ZELDA AND IVY by Laura McGee Kvasnosky. Candlewick Press. 1998. Ages 4-8.
This is a series of three vignettes involving two fox sisters. In the first scene, elder sister Zelda shamelessly manipulates Ivy into doing increasingly dangerous tricks on a swing. When Ivy inevitably falls off, disingenuous Zelda is ready to comfort her. "I have trouble with that trick too," she claims.
In the second scene, Zelda convinces Ivy that they are both going to "doozy" themselves up like movie stars by painting, scalloping and "glittering" their tails . . .except that Zelda keeps postponing her own makeover as she makes a mess of Ivy's tail. If you are thoroughly hating Zelda by now (were you victimized by just such a scheming older sibling?) the rug will be pulled out from under you in the third scene, where Zelda shows her unselfish side--though even that is tempered a little at the end.
The kids, of course, liked this book. From the parent's perspective, one lesson the story teaches is that there is good in everyone, even tormenting older siblings. Underneath the squabbling, there is love.
The lesson I tried to stress is that you should never let anyone pressure you into doing anything you don't want to do--aside from finishing your homework, brushing your teeth and cleaning your room. The relevance of this to experimentation with drugs and sex is obvious, though I wasn't about to point this out to six-year-olds. The example I used to drive the point home was a horrifying true story I had heard years before about a group that was backpacking in the canyonlands of the Southwest.
One group member dared another to jump into a pool of water at the bottom of the cliff where they were standing. The guy didn't want to do it, but the others goaded him into it. He got a running start, changed his mind at the last minute, tried to stop, but slipped and went over. He hit a rock on the way down and broke his back. He ended up in the water, unable to get out and, of course, no one up above was about to jump in to help him. He drowned.
* * *
On a happier note, I would like to talk about three books I read to a kindergarten class the other day. (By now I had given up the idea of written ballots). It was a fun session because I made it a participatory experience with all three. The books are:
I LOVE YOU: A REBUS POEM by Jean Marzollo, illus. by Suse MacDonald. Scholastic, 2000. Ages 2 to 6.
WHILE YOU WERE SLEEPING by John Butler. Peachtree Publishers, 1996. Ages 2 to 6.
ALL TOGETHER NOW by Anita Jeram. Candlewick Press, 1999. Sequel to: Bunny, my Honey. Ages 3 to 8.
The nice thing about the rebus poem is that because some of the words are represented by pictures, even quite young children can read along with you, or on their own, once they learn the pattern: "Every (bird) loves a (tree). Every (flower) loves a (bee). Every (lock) loves a (key). And (I) (love) (you)." Etc. The whole thing is repeated on the last page completely in words. The six-year-old with excellent reading skills whom I read this book with in a hotel room was lukewarm about it, because she didn't think some of the elements made much sense ("every monkey loves a tail"). But the four-year-old I tried it on loved it, as did the kindergarten class.
In While You Were Sleeping, a mother tells her little girl what various wild animals were doing while she was asleep. Since the story and illustrations progress from one tiger to two mice to three bears, etc., you can let the children say the number and animal with you as you read the text and show them the pictures.
All Together Now should be an especially good book for adopted children, because it's about bunny, duckling and mouse siblings loved by a mother rabbit. The story tells how Little Duckling and Miss Mouse came to join the family and how the three "little honeys" play different games together that allow each of them to excel at their own special talents. They sing a song and thump their "great big feet", which your youngsters will be happy to join in doing. (Good luck in figuring out a tune to go with the song!)
