My Life Is Normal, Too: Diversity in Children's Literature

"Practice you accept a book on superheroes?" Jose asked me on Friday afternoon, as we looked over the piece of cake reader drove together.

It was the same question I had heard from Antonio, Diego, Carlos, and Francisco earlier in the week. Both my students and I were frustrated by the lack of beginning reader books they plant attractive. Our well-stocked library had lots of books with dogs or cats as the main character. My students liked animals, but many of them could non afford to own a pet. Very clever books written from the viewpoint of pets in eye-grade homes vicious a little flat for them.

So did another favorite of mine — Amelia Bedelia — whose misinterpretation of the English language makes nearly American-born children giggle. It is understandable that an English Language Learner would not discover a character who misunderstands English puns peculiarly funny. What is non understandable is the lack of easy-to-read books with Hispanic characters.

In her captivating Everything I Demand to Know I Learned in a Children's Book, Anita Silvey talks about "the amazing power of the right volume for the correct child — at the right time." Such a book tin change a kid's life. She interviewed successful people in a multifariousness of disciplines about the volume that transformed their reading landscape. Every bit an author, librarian, and teacher, I have a passionate want to do my part to deliver books that plough reluctant readers into willing ones.

We live in a various club. Not everyone lives in a eye-class home with a fenced-in backyard. Not everyone has two living parents who were born in the United States. Children's books — and not just heart class and young adult novels — should reflect that. If we want to turn at-risk readers into book lovers, nosotros demand piece of cake-to-read books that depict their lives and their dreams.

Freddie Ramos

That's why, when I sat down to write a superhero for the struggling readers who kept asking me for one, I named my graphic symbol Freddie Ramos. In the Zapato Power serial, Freddie Ramos lives in Starwood Park Apartments and goes to Starwood Elementary.

At the time I was writing the commencement Zapato Power book, I worked in a Title I school equally a librarian. Many of my students lived in a large apartment complex right next to the school. They moved oft, and their families worried about money. That's Freddie's life, also. And quite a few of my students, for ane reason or another, lived in a single-parent home. So does Freddie.

For a diverseness of reasons, including the fact that I was once a young widowed mom, I chose to make Freddie's father a state of war hero rather than a divorced dad. A couple of the client reviews on Amazon have questioned why, in an otherwise playful book with large font designed for newly independent readers, the main character would accept a deceased male parent. One adult reader said her five-year-old really enjoyed the book but she had difficulty explaining the expiry of Freddie's father. While I recognize the discomfort of an adult raising a child in a comfortable two-parent family, I can also imagine the ailment of a child who never sees his own family unit state of affairs depicted in books.

Freddie Ramos is Hispanic. He is also the child of a armed forces widow struggling to make a skilful life for herself and her son. Merely his ethnicity or family unit groundwork does not rule his thoughts or his definition of himself. Like well-nigh children, Freddie sees the circumstances of his life as normal, not a challenge he needs to tackle. Too often, non-white children living in single-parent families are depicted in children's literature as characters with a problem to solve. Elizabeth Bird, in her April five, 2010 Fuse #8 Production weblog, said that she "could count on 1 hand the number of MG books for kids starring a Hispanic character where the plot isn't ALL about being Hispanic." She's absolutely correct, and this is an outcome children's literature needs to accost.

The Snowy Day

In 1962, when Viking published the dearest The Snowy Day by Ezra Jack Keats, a color barrier was broken in children's publishing. Finally, children of color had the opportunity to see themselves in a book. Families of all races loved The Snowy Twenty-four hours — and still do. It proved that variety is something we can embrace in children's literature.

Some children may accept a greater personal need to come across themselves in a book than others, simply all children demand books with characters from various ethnic, economic, and family backgrounds. And they demand them on all reading levels. The book that turns one kid into an gorging reader may make another child yawn, and vice versa. If nosotros take plenty variety bachelor, we will have the opportunity to hook new readers with "the correct book for the right child — at the correct time."

Jacqueline Jules is a teacher, schoolhouse librarian, and author of Zapato Power: Freddie Ramos Takes Off, released by Albert Whitman in March of 2010 and Zapato Power: Freddie Ramos Springs into Action, September 2010. The third book in the Zapato Ability series, Zapato Power: Freddie Ramos Zooms to the Rescue volition be released past Albert Whitman on March 1, 2011.

Check out Colorín Colorado's interview with her and her tips for supporting ELLs in the school library!

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Source: https://www.colorincolorado.org/article/my-life-normal-too-diversity-childrens-literature

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