For Veterans' Day

“The children know. They have always known. But we choose to think otherwise: it hurts to know the children know.”

-- Maurice Sendak, preface to I Dream of Peace (UNICEF, HarperCollins l994)

This blog is about two books: one a picture book (fictional) and one a photojournalism essay (nonfiction).

Philip Caputo’s book 10,000 Days of Thunder: A History of the Vietnam War (2005, Atheneum) is, to me, a standard in nonfiction writing for children, and a gold standard in writing for children about war. Caputo served as a marine lieutenant in the Vietnam War. Later, in 1973, he shared a Pulitzer Prize as a reporter for the Chicago Tribune. His 1977 memoir of his service, A Rumor of War, is considered a classic in adult literature.

And Maurice Sendak’s book Where the Wild Things Are is – I’ll just tell you what I really think – the top of the top, best ever. There’s even a movie out now. (Have you heard?) The book – like all Sendak’s books – are infused with shadows from the Nazis and their war.

In just 124 pages, Caputo answers the questions underlying ever key word or phrase you might think of in association with Vietnam. Through short chapters and strong, dramatic, thoughfully-chosen photographs Caputo covers events such as the Tonkin Gulf Incidents and the Tet Offensive, describes the role of settings such as the Ho Chi Minh Trail and The Tunnel War, delves into personal issues through such chapters as “The Nurses’ War” and “Prisoners of War,” demystifies talking points such as Agent Orange and the Pentagon Papers, and brings readers up to date by explaining the continuing focus on those Missing in Action (MIA). He pays a visit to the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, and goes back to Vietnam to talk about what it’s like there today.

I was four in 1964, the year Where the Wild Things Are was published. In that year the U.S. was sending troops to Vietnam. My dad (deaf in one ear) didn’t go. He had served in the army, was on duty in Germany Berlin Wall was raised, and when JFK was assasinated. By the time I was 13, I was babysitting for kids whose father had come home with shrapnel in his legs. I read them Where the Wild Things Are, which, for a work of fiction, sure felt true.

I also inhaled 10,000 Days of Thunder, and wish it had been around when I was younger. Reading it, I realized that, for me, living through this war – hearing the daily casualty count, reading the headlines, watching the news – placed a focus on details that blurred the major stories. Caputo’s book brought me back visually to the on-the-ground dramas between soldiers and villagers, auditorially to the choppers and the radio songs (There’s a chapter called “We Gotta Get Outta This Place”—Music of the Vietnam War), and viscerally to the stories – so many stories, enough to make you proud of our servicemen, to make you grateful for their sacrifices, and to break your heart a thousand times.

Through his structure, Caputo is able to control his material, to mete it out in details no more bearable for being brief, without melodrama or politics. His presentation shows an enormous respect for today’s kids, who are themselves living through two wars. Knowing the way a publishing schedule works, I think it’s highly likely that some of the kids who were middle schoolers – this book’s audience – while Caputo was writing it – may well be heading out to Iraq or Afghanistan. Daily media reports on the realities of war can hardly escape the notice of the most sheltered children. But, like the reports I heard as a child during the Vietnam war, this coverage is built on an adult framework of experience and understanding.

I hope kids have someone they can rely on to translate, even if they can only pose their questions in the indirect way that I did, when I woke from a dream that green-uniformed soldiers had surrounded our house. And I hope that they walk into libraries and see 10,000 Days of Thunder on display. I bet it will get picked up, taken out, and read from cover to cover. I bet parents will notice it and take a look. And I believe that this important nonfiction book will help everybody understand – with respect, and without obfuscation – what war is really like.

Curious Questions

Sue Macy's post of 11/6/09, My Favorite Students, prompted me to think about some of the more surprising questions I've been asked during school visits--questions that had very little to do with the subjects of my books.

I was once speaking to a class of fourth graders about Clara Schumann: Piano Virtuoso, my biography of the 19th-century pianist and composer. Now granted, Clara's life was full of tragedy. Her husband, composer Robert Schumann, died when she was only thirty-seven, leaving her to support and raise their seven children. And several of those children pre-deceased her. But while these events are included in the book, the real focus is on the inspiring story of how music sustained Clara in the face of life's challenges.

When I talk to kids about Clara Schumann, they're usually interested in her relationship with her father (who was also her piano teacher and manager), and in her achievements as a child prodigy. Still, I suppose I shouldn't have been so surprised when one student peppered me with questions about death. "What did Robert die of?" "How did Clara die?" "How come so many of their children died?"

Clara's death was unremarkable--she passed away at the ripe old age (for the time) of seventy-six, following a series of strokes. But Robert suffered from bipolar illness and died of syphilis after spending the last two years of his life in a mental hospital. I hadn't come prepared to explain manic depression and venereal disease to fourth-graders, much less how those illnesses were understood and treated in the 19th century. But neither did I feel I should sidestep the questions.

So I did the only thing I could do--I improvised, based on the knowledge I had, sharing information in a simple, straightforward way and on a level that I thought nine-year-olds could understand. Which is, after all, what I strive to do when I write my books. The student seemed satisfied with my answers, and I later found out from the teacher that there had been a recent death in that student's family.

Another surprising--and much less serious--question came during a school visit for José! Born to Dance, my picture-book biography of the Mexican-American modern dancer and choreographer, José Limón. After leading a group of K-2 students through a dance/movement experience, sharing a slide show about my life as a dancer and writer, and holding up manuscripts in different phases of revising, editing, and production, I invited questions.

"Did you ever have a dirt bike?" a boy asked.

"No," I said, grinning. "But I bet dirt bikes are really fun."

At that, the boy beamed. It didn't matter to either of us that the question wasn't about José or dancing or books. A child had made a personal connection with an author. And isn't that why we visit schools in the first place?

Connecting with Colleagues

Every two years, a group of dedicated teachers and librarians, some retired, bring about 20 authors to the Eureka, California, area to join some local authors in The Author Festival, when we make presentions to area schools and offer books for sale at the library.

On one day I visited Trinity Valley School, out in the countryside, a place that doesn't get that many outside visitors. The children created this poster to welcome me. It's always great for children to meet "real" authors; it gives them a deeper appreciation of books and sends them right to the library shelves.

Those of us who participate always enjoy the various events, but one especially rewarding aspect of our days there is the time we have to connect with one another. Some people call writing a lonely profession; I prefer to say we are alone when we write, not lonely. In either case, many of us have little opportunity for contact with other authors. We may belong to critique groups, which can provide regular interaction with a very limited group of colleagues. Events like the Author Festival give us a chance not only to catch up on personal lives but also to learn of possibilities for our own careers--publishers that are still bullish on nonfiction books, for example, or a new way of connecting with our readers.

This year, I learned that the practice of video presentations by way of skyping and iChat is already being utilized by some authors instead of physical school visits involving energy-inefficient airplane travel, costly hotel stays, and so forth. Living in my own 'shell' in Montana, I didn't realize that this distant-learning kind of work that our INKTHINKTANK company is jumping into already has its pioneers. This realization only increased my excitement about what we're launching, creating an "everybody wins" situation among authors, schools, librarians, and teachers.

My Favorite Students

We’ve been focusing on how our books are used in the classroom on I.N.K. this month, so I thought I’d pay tribute to some of the more memorable students I’ve met in my role as an author over the years. I’ve given them nicknames to ensure their anonymity, but I can picture each of them to this day. Remembering their innocence, their curiosity, their disarming comments keeps me humble and reminds me why I love writing for young audiences.

The Straight Shooter: When talking about Bull’s-Eye, my biography of Annie Oakley, to third graders at a suburban New Jersey public school, I met a girl who confidently stood up and asked, “Since rifles have a greater range than shotguns, why did Annie Oakley use shotguns in her performances?” Mind you, I hadn’t told the class that rifles shoot farther—she just knew that. In third grade! I asked how she had come upon that particular fact and she answered that she’d learned it from her brother. Hmmm. By the way, the reason Annie used shotguns when she performed in outdoor arenas with Buffalo Bill’s Wild West show is that she didn’t want any shots that missed her targets to travel beyond the arena and hurt people or damage property. Plus the collection of pellets from one shot of her shotgun had a greater chance of hitting the target than the single bullet emitted at the pull of a rifle's trigger.

The Doubter: During an author Q&A at a middle school in Iowa, I explained that I had written my book, Winning Ways: A Photohistory of Women in Sports because I love sports. A boy in the class looked me up and down, incredulous, and finally asked, “But aren’t you too old to like sports?” I was 43 at the time.

The Dedicated Swimmers: As part of the events surrounding my presentations on women’s sports history at a private girls’ school in New Jersey, the elementary students were invited to dress in the equipment of their favorite sport. Kids had a great time wearing soccer uniforms, softball cleats, and basketball jerseys, but the ones who I remember best were those swimmers who walked around in impossibly tight bathing caps all day long. Ouch!

The Intrepid Historian: Finally, there is the sixth grader from Los Angeles who chose the All-American Girls Professional Baseball League as the topic for her National History Day presentation. It’s a popular History Day choice; the experiences of the women who played baseball during and after World War II seem to resonate with kids, especially girls. But this enthusiastic teenager and I shared a six-month correspondence as she worked on her project. After an initial telephone interview, during which she asked me some basic questions about the league, she updated me on her progress via e-mail and occasional phone calls just about every week. Not surprisingly, she won $50 and a bronze medal for “having the most phone and email interviews out of 750 students!” In her last e-mail, on March 16, 2009, she wrote, “Thank you very much Sue Macy. You have no clue how much you have helped us win.” I kind of miss her.

Reading, Reading, Reading

I’ve been out of the office a lot lately, so I haven’t been writing much. But I’ve still been reading. Reading really is an important part of writing—just as important as sitting down at the keyboard and typing away.

Since I write nonfiction books, I read a lot during the research phase of any project. I read kids books and adult books on the topic. I read magazine articles and scientific journals too. This reading provides me with background information, which I can then round out by interviewing scientists working in the field or with my own experiences.

But I also read children's nonfiction to learn from the masters. I love the way April Pulley Sayre and Dianna Hutts Aston craft language. I love how Steve Jenkins and David M. Schwartz play with format and design. I’m a huge fan of the voice that runs through Vicki Cobb’s books. She really knows how to make science fun. And I’m in awe of how Deborah Heiligman synthesizes information is new and exciting ways.

I also read fiction written for kids and adults. I read poetry too. As I read fiction, I pay close attention to how the writers pull readers into their story, how they build scenes and develop narrative arcs, how they use language to create mood, and how they achieve the kind of pacing their stories need. All of these elements of craft can enrich nonfiction writing too.

Sometimes I discover clever new techniques that I can modify for my own purposes. Sometimes I come away with a solution to a problem I’m having with a particular manuscript. And sometimes I’m just plain old inspired. That’s important too because writing can be hard work, and sometimes I just need a reason to keep on going.

Growing Lifelong Learners Through the Library: A Conference

When I write, I treat my brain like a computer. I give it instructions, tell it what I have to write about, put in information about the topic, and give it plenty of time. Much to my delight, sooner or later my brain comes through with an angle or slant, a way into a topic. Since I want to write about what happened today, my brain hasn’t had much time to process the angle part. So I’m writing this off the cuff.

Four of us INKers. Susan Kuklin, Deborah Heiligman, Sue Macy and I, spoke at a conference in Brooklyn, NY today sponsored by the NYC School Library System. The theme of the conference was “Growing Lifelong Learners Through the Library” and our session was entitled: "Keeping Kids Curious: Nonfiction Authors Share Their Secrets." Although we all write in different subject areas and we didn’t really know each other before this blog came into existence, it’s amazing how we’ve all adopted pretty much the same work habits. So we decided to divide up our subject to prevent repitition. Susan Kuklin talked about networking to find the people to interview who have first-hand knowledge of her subject. Deb spoke about her approach to doing research. She tackles subjects she knows nothing about and starts by reading and reading. She doesn’t begin writing until she feels she’s read enough and learned enough. Deb willl write a blog on how she takes notes. Sue Macy likes to put herself physically in the environments she writes about even if the subject of a biography, for example, is no longer alive. So she’ll visit Annie Oakley’s hometown or go to reunions of a long disbanded women’s baseball league to make her writing come alive. I do all those things, too but when I write hands-on science, I make sure that I do it from first-hand knowledge. I have performed every experiment in my books. Deborah Heligman, Sue Macy, Susan Kuklin, Vicki Cobb



The classroom we presented in was standing-room only and we did get a conversation going with our attendees. One woman said that she was the only teacher in her school to teach nonfiction. Another said that there was very little communication between the library and the classroom. Still another told me that teachers are so pressured with paperwork and teaching to the tests that they have no time to take advantage of the resources available in the library. We asked, “How can we help to bridge this abyss?” We’ve got a few ideas but we need to get a dialogue started. Any suggestions from you, out there in cyberspace, are welcome.

When I go to a conference I like to hear the main speaker. Today’s keynoter was Dr. Ross J. Todd who gave his vision of the library of the future, which will be designated a “knowledge center,” not an “informational place”. School librarians will help students using guided inquiry and build collegial relationships with teachers so they can tap into the many sources of thought available in the library from books to Web 2.0 tools. BTW, I learned a new phrase “Web 2.0,” which means blogs, diaries, wikis, multimedia downloads, videoconferencing, etc. With this blog, we’re already doing it and I didn’t even know it had a name. (So I learned something new today! Yay me!)

Technology is changing our world. We want to teach our students to have productive “habits of mind.” For all of us, teachers, authors, parents, librarians, there is no way to keep up with the changes unless you learn new skills. We authors ARE life-long learners. We can bring our hard-won knowledge and ability to show how we got there to the digital age. We're doing it now on this blog. Fasten your seatbelts, everyone. Prepare for an exhilarating ride!

The Best Stories of all Time. Really!

Somehow October’s chorus about using our books in the classroom didn’t come everyone's way on the guitar until November, so kindly bear with me for a minute while I wrap up my part of this song with one last verse.

I hated history when I was a kid. The way we were supposed to learn everything was by memorizing a bunch of boring names and dates and battle sites. To me, the people in history were a lot like George Washington on the dollar bill; old and green and wrinkled and dead.

What a waste! The real George Washington wasn’t anything like that portrait. Just between you and me, our boy George was a stud. He was so tall that most other men only came up to his shoulder. He was a great athlete and his hands and feet were enormous—what a basketball player he might have made! This terrific horseman, dancer, and card player was also so fearless in battle that even when his horses were shot out from under him and bullets ripped through his coat, he never left the front lines. You can’t make this stuff up; it’s all true, and if I had known things like that about the dead people in my history books, well of course I’d have wanted to hear more.

So how can teachers make history spring to life for kids? Here are three of the ways.

1) The Storyteller’s Voice- One of the main reasons that so many stories from history are still around is that they’re really the best stories of all time. I hated history because all those moons ago, my own teachers didn’t know how to tell a great tale. But if teachers can teach by using a storyteller’s voice, you can bet your boots that kids will beg to listen in. The best nonfiction books can show you the way and can add in fabulous pictures to boot. (And forgive me for mentioning that our INK THINK TANK has these books in spades.)

2) Tie-Ins- If you can get kids to relate directly to something in a book about history, you’ve got it made. Here are some examples from my book talks—no reason why with a little extra imagination teachers can’t do this kind of thing too. In one school, the students put on a wonderful play about Lewis and Clark based on my book How We Crossed the West and invited me to watch. When I visited their classrooms the next day, I surprised each actor and actress by telling them some incredibly happy and sad and funny things that happened to their own characters after the journey ended. This new information was a huge hit. When I presented the same book another time, we were able to bring a real Newfoundland dog (like Seaman, the one Meriwether Lewis brought on the journey) into the room. Bingo! I got to tell about all the funny and even life-saving adventures the dog had on the trip. Trust me—dogs are attention grabbers all the way. And during a previous Presidential election, an older group did a great job of comparing the gigantic role propaganda played in promoting George Washington vs. King George III back in Revolutionary times with the role propaganda played in that particular presidential election.

3) Lights, camera, action!- Younger audiences like nothing better than to sing, laugh, make funny noises, and wear costumes. As it turns out, these qualities are great tools for teaching history too. I love to use my book The Old Chisholm Trail; A Cowboy Song as a fun intro to those famously difficult cattle drives from the wild west. Very Short Version of how this works: I dress up as a cowboy and briefly explain how hard that trip must have been. Then I invite 3 volunteer cowboys onstage, where they don huge paper moustaches, and I give 3 more volunteers stuffed longhorn cattle to hold. As I (badly) sing funny verses from the real song, the cowboys and cows make appropriate cowboy and cow sound effects when I point to them after each verse, and the audience sings the chorus in their turn. It is hilarious, it’s the BEST teaching tool, and it all comes from a book. Try it!

Preparing to put on our costumes

I.N.K. News for November

Barbara Kerley's book, What To Do About Alice?, won the 2009 Washington State/Scandiuzzi Children's Book Award in the picture book category. The book is illustrated by Edwin Fotheringham, a Seattle resident.


Gretchen Woelfle will speak on Reading and Writing nonfiction: A Study in Serendipity at the California School Library Association Conference in Ontario, CA on Friday November 20. She will also sign books at the Author and Illustrator Brunch on Sunday, November 22.


From Deborah Heiligman: CHARLES AND EMMA: THE DARWINS' LEAP OF FAITH is a Finalist for the National Book Award. Award ceremony is Novemer 18 when the winner will be announced. But I am thrilled to have my book be a finalist.


Helen's Eyes: A Photobiography of Annie Sullivan, Helen Keller's Teacher by Marfé Ferguson Delano was named a 2009 Jefferson Cup Honor Book. Presented by the Virginia Library Association, the Jefferson Cup is an award that honors biographies, historical fiction, and American history books for children.


Sue Macy will be signing copies of her new book, Bylines: A Photobiography of Nellie Bly, on Friday, November 6, at the American Association of School Librarians (AASL) conference in Charlotte. Stop by the National Geographic booth from 3:30 to 4:30 to pick up a book and say hi. And don't forget to mention you heard about it on I.N.K.!



From Jan Greenberg: Christo and Jeanne-Claude Through The Gates and Beyond is on Booklist's Top Art Books of 2009 list. I will be at NCTE on November 20 in Philadelphia signing Side by Side at Abrams booth 1:30-2:15pm and attending the Notables awards for Language Arts session at 2:30. Hope to meet some of you there.

Boo! Celebrate Halloween

If you've been reading our INK blog lately, then you'll know that our theme for October has been using our books in the classroom. I was planning to write about using biographies, focusing on one of my own books, Helen's Eyes, perhaps, or Genius. But a couple of days ago Gretchen Woelfle wrote on this topic, so I thought I'd tackle something else, if I could come up with a new idea. Suddenly I had a craving for chocolate (not unusual), which made me think of Halloween, which reminded me of this past Monday. And then I knew what to write about.

On Monday mornings I teach level 4 ESL (English as a second language) to a class of 20 adults for a wonderful program called "New Neighbors" in Alexandria, Virginia. Most of the students come from Spanish-speaking countries, but Ethiopia, India, and Sudan are also represented in the class. I'm a first-time teacher, and I'm a volunteer, not a professional. Before every class I have to teach myself the subject of the day. This Monday's topic: the present perfect tense. Piece of cake, right? Hah! Thank goodness for the teacher's guide.

Anyway, toward the end of class on Monday, I pulled out a children's book to share with the students. "This book," I told them, "was written by a friend of mine. It's about Halloween, which is coming up on Saturday." As we paged through the book, students peppered me with questions. "What is the pumpkin with light inside it called?" "How do you make a jack-o'-lantern?" A photograph of a dog in a funny costume sparked lots of laughter and comments, including "I have made a rooster costume for my daughter." A picture of a brightly decorated home brought "I have bought pumpkin lights to hang up." (Note the use in both sentences of the present perfect tense!)

It was our best class so far, thanks in great part to this wonderful nonfiction children's book, Celebrate Halloween by Deborah Heiligman. It's part of her Holidays Around the World series. (Full disclosure: Not only is Deborah a friend of mine, I was her editor for several of these terrific books, including this one.) Aimed primarily at younger kids, these books can work with audiences of all ages (as I learned on Monday), thanks to their simple yet satisfying text, fabulous photographs, and extensive back matter.

I can't promise that the Holidays Around the World series will teach your students the present perfect tense, but I can confidently predict that students—whether they hail from India or Indiana—will enjoy these books and learn a lot from them. And remember, Thanksgiving, Hanukkah, and Christmas are just around the corner. Check out our new INK THINK TANK database to find books about these holidays!

TALKING UP: What Does Age Appropriate Mean Anyway?

In keeping with this month’s theme – using our books in the classroom – I’d like to share experiences about talking up/talking down to kids in publishing and the classroom.

When the question of age appropriateness arose on our new Web site, http://www.inkthinktank.com/, I wish I had listed a broader age range. Some of you already have and hats of to ya! Material that is strong and fun and well presented is manna from heaven to a creative teacher. Kids, young and old, are savvy creatures who can handle big vocabulary and big ideas.

Step back: For years I’ve been trying to capture the voices of the participants who rule my subjects. Early on, in a book for young children called When I See My Doctor, I included the words “stethoscope,” “otoscope,” “sphygmomanometer,” and “hemoglobinmeter.” The copy editor wanted these words deleted because they were too difficult for kindergarten-age children. But four-year-old Thomas, the subject of the book, learned them from his doctor and shouted them proudly into my tape recorder.

It was a bit nerve wracking to argue with an editor because I was new to the field, didn’t have kids, and never studied early childhood education. But I trusted Thomas, my subject. Later, at school visits, children called out the words, teachers beamed, and I felt vindicated. Sophisticated language, one teacher said, encouraged the children to be students.

Jump to now: A few weeks ago I had the pleasure of doing a presentation with Marilyn Nelson, the poet whose picture book I recently illustrated. I had invited her to watch me shoot her book, using students from the Dance Theatre of Harlem as my models, but scheduling didn’t quite work out. Now that the book is published, we were asked to appear together in front of a large group of students. I was anxious. How would a classroom filled with both boys and girls react to my gals in tutus? What helped the most was the teacher. She greeted me with an enthusiastic bear hug and a huge – I mean huge – smile. That alleviated trepidations until I saw the kids. The first to arrive were the boys – big, boisterous boys who spread out in the front rows. Gulp! This is a book about ballerinas for goodness sake! Too late now to back out. Besides Marilyn had just arrived looking fabulous. There were more hugs as Marilyn whispered, “How shall we do this?” If she didn’t know we were in deep do-do land.
“You go first.”
“No, you go first.”
“No, you go first.”
Marilyn, the AUTHOR, went first. She described how and why she wrote the poem and revealed a few literary secrets, such as a riff on Yeats. [“Beautiful ballerina, you are the dance.”] She read her poem to a rapt audience and talked a little more.

My turn! Following Marilyn Nelson may have been a mistake. But I have a few secrets of my own, ones that surprisingly complimented her poetic structure. Showing photographs, I pointed out my secrets, historic balletic points of reference. There’s an homage to Swan Lake, to Degas, and to George Balanchine.

[The photograph above is a typical Balanchine shape.] There were no giggles, squirms or snickers from the audience. Instead, there were great questions and a very happy teacher. Oh, did I tell you who made up the audience for our picture book? Students at the University of Connecticut.

What experiences have you had, dear teachers, librarians, and colleagues, breaking the "age appropriate" barrier?

Jete’ to future: The next visit will be with third graders. I will not change one word in my presentation.

Biographies in the Classroon

All month we INKlings have been discussing using our books in the classroom. I’ve been mightily impressed by the ways that our authors, along with teachers and librarians, have brought books to life for students.

I had a lot of fun writing a curriculum guide for Jeannette Rankin: Political Pioneer (see my website: www.gretchenwoelfle.com.) Jeannette’s long life in politics made her a massive subject to write about (she lived over ninety years!) but an easy subject for kids to relate to. Rankin was a women’s suffragist, our first Congresswomen, and lifelong peace activist.

Though women have reached new heights of political office, their presence does not reflect their demographics, i.e. 50% of the population. I ask students to research their city and state. What percentage of their representatives are female? What percentage of female lawmakers belong to each political party? [Math exercises.] Why do you think so few politicians are female? [Debate topic, with social studies angle.]

Research a female lawmaker in your state, including her early life, education, and path to political office. Read her website and see where she stands on various issues. Write her a letter and tell her where you stand. Jeannette Rankin advised high school students to do this back in 1940! Take a poll of your classmates about gender politics and graph the results. [Math again.]

Classroom activities such as these show students that my biography can relate to what is happening right now. The issues that fill the news and affect our lives are not new, and biographies of people like Jeannette Rankin connect us to history and perhaps show us a way forward.

NB: Be careful what you wish for. Besides the activities I suggested, one teacher asked her students to fact-check my book for errors. They thought they had found three. Their further research vindicated me twice, but they were spot on with the third example. Ouch!


Picture book biographies are a booming genre these days. Each publishing season offers more terrific stories of people I’ve never heard of.

The Daring Miss Quimby (Holiday House) by Suzanne George Whitaker, tells the story of the first American woman to receive a pilot’s license (in 1911) and to fly the English Channel (in 1912.) Harriet Quimby was an adventurous soul, pushing against all sorts of boundaries for women. Catherine Stock’s loose watercolor illustrations depict this mood perfectly. A “Women in Aviation Time Line” extends to 1999 and suggests classroom projects: research the many women found in the timeline, bring it up to date, and read Tanya Stone’s Almost Astronauts for a look at the discrimination aviatrixes encountered.


Sky High: The True Story of Maggie Gee (Tricycle Press) by Marissa Moss, illustrated by Carl Angel, describes a Chinese American’s girl’s love of flying. In World War II she joined the highly competitive WASP, Women Airforce Service Pilots. Moss describes Maggie’s career but also weaves in her family’s stories: immigrant grandparents farming in California, parents growing up in traditional China, mother who worked in a World War II defense plant – each generation assimilating more and more. This book can lead to students exploring our immigration history, both politically and personally. How did early Asian immigrants fare in the United States? Where did your family come from and what are their stories?

Biographies can build many bridges in the classroom connecting the historical with the contemporary, the political with the personal. Can you guess that I’m hooked on writing them?

Starting Off on the Right Foot

I’m taking an education class for people studying to become teachers. Assignment Task #1: bring to class six examples of award winning children’s books based around a theme. If I overlooked the part about the annotated bibliography, using APA format exclusively, and checking the rubric for possible point deductions, I could say this assignment was a no brainer. I headed straight to nonfiction, of course, and chose some of my favorite multicultural biographies without having to think twice.

Of the 22 or so students in the class, I was the only person who had chosen nonfiction books. Almost everyone chose the same themes: animals and family. I’ll admit that these topics are extremely popular with the elementary school crowd. But animals and family without nonfiction? How many times can a kid read about a duck that talks or a pig that flies without wanting some real information?

As any reader of this blog will know, there are a wide variety of quality nonfiction books on all aspects of these topics. But, as Levar Burton would say, don’t take my word for it. Go over to to the INK THINK TANK website to check out the database by subject.

I did notice that everyone in my group really enjoyed my selections. They thought my approach was innovative and they wanted me to present on behalf of our group OK, perhaps they just wanted me to get stuck representing, but at least they were encouraging. After mentioning my selection on MLK, Jr., one student started an interesting conversation on whether schools should be closed for the Martin Luther King day holiday. Another guy asked to borrow my book on the Negro Leagues.

I think I was making some progress. Perhaps even had a convert or two. Teach the teachers well. Even the newbies want to get off on the right foot. The students are sure to follow.