Why Does a Tomboy Relate to THE HUNDRED DRESSES?

A few weeks ago Veronica Roth said that she was planning to blog about favorite childhood books and invited others to blog with her. While I’ve thought about, discussed, and made notes about books since I last posted here, I (quite obviously) haven’t refined any of my thoughts enough to post them. Happily, her suggestion nudged me in just the right way and I raised my hand to say I’d re-read something, too. There was no backing down, I’d made a commitment on a public forum. Veronica coined the word ‘accountabilibuddies’ for those of us who agreed to post about a favorite childhood book today. Thanks for the nudge, acountabilibuddy!



I’m certain that I first read THE HUNDRED DRESSES in the months before I turned eight and moved for the 9th time. (Yes, nine moves in eight years. That can happen when you’re a military brat.) Though I don’t remember my first read, I have memories of seeing the book in at least two libraries, and reading it in two bedrooms. If those memories are accurate, it helped me get through leaving Churchland Academy in Virginia and starting Peterson Elementary in Alaska.

In brief, Eleanor Estes’s Newbery-honor book (published in 1944) is about the teasing a girl from a poor, immigrant family endures from her schoolmates. Despite the fact she wears the same faded blue dress to school every day, Wanda Petronski claims to have one hundred dresses lined up in her closet. No one believes her, but no one offers her friendship or seeks out the truth about her statement. Only after her family abruptly moves (due to discrimination) do her classmates find out that Wanda is a skilled artist who had drawn a hundred dresses. While her main tormentors, Maddie and Peggy, feel guilty enough to send Wanda a letter, they never apologize. Wanda, however, is gracious enough to gift two of the drawings to the girls whose final response is, “She must have really liked us anyway.”

Why would this story with its heavy-handed moral of acceptance, understanding, and forgiveness join the literary landscape of my childhood? How could this quiet, outdated story have such resonance? And why would tomboy Heather read and re-read a book about dresses?

If I encountered THE HUNDRED DRESSES for the first time today, I would argue that my elementary-school self would not have liked it. It’s didactic. It’s underdeveloped. It’s clearly a girl book. A story about mean girls and dresses? No thanks.

And I’d be wrong. This book was a touchpoint in my childhood. I didn’t need more information about Wanda or her life at home. I filled in those blanks myself because I already kind of knew her.

I connected to the story because the quiet girl in the faded blue dress was familiar. I had learned that misspeaking could haunt you on the playground. I knew what it was to be the weird kid nobody really spoke to. I understood that if you might be moving again anyway, there didn’t seem to be a point to making friends. I had been uncertain of my place in the landscape of the school and neighborhood. I definitely didn’t understand the clique of girls who had the luxury of life-long friendship, but I knew all about being on the outskirts, uncertain about whether those girls were teasing or genuinely offering friendship.

I wasn’t Wanda, but I understood her well. And I still do.

Katherine Paterson Makes Me Blush

When the new National Ambassador for Young People’s Literature was announced on January 4th, I cheered along with everyone else that Katherine Paterson had been appointed. I know how beloved she is and how many people cite her books among their life-long favorites.

While I was certain I’d read a few of her books, I couldn’t remember exactly what I’d read. I looked over her list of titles to refresh my memory and was shocked with what I found.

I had read exactly one book.

Oops.

Once I got over the surprise, I had two options: play along with the world and cheer Ms. Paterson on without sharing any personal opinion or publicly acknowledge this gap in my reading history. I decided I was strong enough to do the latter and tweeted, “Aunt Feather is embarrassed to admit she's only read one book by our new Ambassador of Children's Lit. She'll be heading to the library to rectify this.”

And I did. That afternoon I scoured the shelves at Brooklyn Public Library, checked out the nine books they had on the shelves and put holds on two additional titles that had been suggested. And I embarked on a Katherine Patterson Marathon Read. While I never intended to kick off 2010 with an author study, that’s exactly what’s happening.

I invite you to join me. Pick up a Katherine Paterson title you haven’t read. Revisit a favorite. Read one aloud with a child. Check out an audio book to share with your family.

And honor our new Ambassador by taking her advice: Read More. As she said in The New York Times, “I think of all the joy reading has given me. It is not just because it is good for you, but because it is good.”

I couldn’t agree more.

Picture Books Get Banned, Too

In getting ready for this week, I looked over lists of banned and challenged books. I was looking for titles I’ve never read and challenges I’d forgotten, and titles I didn’t know had ever caused a ruckus.

I expected to see the Harry Potter books (witchcraft and sorcery), Judy Blume (sex), and recent Newbery Award Winner THE HIGHER POWER OF LUCKY (the word ‘scrotum’ caused an uproar). And then there were titles that surprised me—that literally made me exclaim out loud. Picture books caused most of my confusion.

In picture books, I knew that Sendak’s Caldecott Honor book IN THE NIGHT KITCHEN continues to cause a stir because Mickey spends much of the book naked (as I explained to a friend ‘you can’t show his pee-pee!’) I had already heard that AND TANGO MAKES THREE held the top-spot on the challenged books list for the third year in a row (this title about a same-sex penguin couple has been challenged internationally.) It was no surprise at all that THE STUPIDS is challenged time and again because there is objection to the use of the word ‘stupid’ and a claim that the series promotes negative behavior.

And then came the surprises. As I saw each of the following titles on the list I tried to figure out why they were challenged before I read the explanation. In every instance, when I had one at all, my guess was wrong.

Dr. Seuss is acclaimed for his early readers and his ability to address complex issues in accessible parables. THE LORAX introduces a creature fighting to defend the trees, the creatures who live among them, and the land itself from an unnecessary corporate expansion. What could be offensive about this conservationist picture book? THE LORAX was challenged in California because the ‘I am the Lorax, I speak for the trees’ chant might defame the logging industry.

Caldecott Award Winner SYLVESTER AND THE MAGIC PEBBLE by William Steig has long been one of my favorites. I have always thought of this as a loving story of family and undying love. I thought that perhaps the magic which changes Sylvester from a donkey into a rock and back again might be considered witchcraft. But I was wrong. In 1977 the book was challenged in Illinois because in this world where all the characters are animals, the police officers are illustrated as pigs and that could be construed as defamatory to law enforcement.

I knew the KING AND KING had been challenged from coast to coast and overseas because of the homosexual relationship, but was someone really offended by the fact the Queen is a divorcee? A parent in California was.

My guess when I saw THE THREE LITTLE PIGS on a list was that it might be cited because of violence (particularly in early, traditional tellings) I didn't expect to find out the book was challenged as school reading because the pigs as food might be offensive to the Muslim community.

Suffice it to say, that picture books land on banned books lists is a reminder that no book is free from scrutiny. Every title is subject to unexpected interpretation. And most importantly, that every book we read over our lifetimes might someday require defense.