Blueberry Girl by Neil Gaiman Illustrated by Charles Vess
I love a kids book that shows little girls who are brave and adventurous and independent. I love it even more when it isn't about marriage or princes or any of the other hetero-normative storylines that are often still the underscore of such books.
In Blueberry Girl, Gaiman writes a beautiful incantation for an unborn child, wishing her strength and wisdom and freedom. He is also wishing her freedom from the trappings of the stories girls have been told for generations...
"Keep her from spindles, and sleeps at sixteen. Let her stay waking and wise."
The wishes are presented as a sort of prayer to feminine ancestors, or perhaps pagan goddesses watching over the child.
I think that is is an empowering book for kids and adults alike. It's bright, charming illustrations, and lilting text are compelling to kids and even some references that may be lost on little ones will speak more to the adult reader.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Friday, March 11, 2011
Girls Will be Boys Will be Girls
A short and shameless plug for a project that I was involved in many years ago, and am still very proud of...
I couldn't make a list of my favorite children's books without including the coloring book, Boys Will be Girls Will be Boys, created by Jacinta Bunnell and Irit Reinheimer and illustrated by 21 artists (including myself.)
Originally printed as a zine with cut and paste illustrations, it was reprinted by Soft Skull Press with new illustrations drawn by an impressive array of artists in 2004.
The coloring book addresses the issue of gender with page titles such as "Sometimes the princess is saved by the girl next door," and "Don't let gender box you in."
I highly recommend getting a copy of the coloring book for all the kids in your life. It is humorous and beautiful, and even includes questions for discussing gender with kids!
You can order it here
http://www.etsy.com/listing/58501475/girls-will-be-boys-will-be-girls-will
along with the wonderful follow ups, Girls are Not Chicks, and Sometimes the Spoon Runs Away With Another Spoon!!
I couldn't make a list of my favorite children's books without including the coloring book, Boys Will be Girls Will be Boys, created by Jacinta Bunnell and Irit Reinheimer and illustrated by 21 artists (including myself.)
Originally printed as a zine with cut and paste illustrations, it was reprinted by Soft Skull Press with new illustrations drawn by an impressive array of artists in 2004.
The coloring book addresses the issue of gender with page titles such as "Sometimes the princess is saved by the girl next door," and "Don't let gender box you in."
I highly recommend getting a copy of the coloring book for all the kids in your life. It is humorous and beautiful, and even includes questions for discussing gender with kids!
You can order it here
http://www.etsy.com/listing/58501475/girls-will-be-boys-will-be-girls-will
along with the wonderful follow ups, Girls are Not Chicks, and Sometimes the Spoon Runs Away With Another Spoon!!
Paper Revolutionary
"All writing is propaganda... whether a story is political or not, it's political."
- Derrick Jensen, interviewed in Mythmakers and Lawbreakers; Anarchist Writers on Fiction
I think that it easy to dismiss writing as a revolutionary act, much as it is easy to dismiss parenting, or urban homesteading as revolutionary acts. It is easy to reserve the nomenclature for those taking to the streets and engaging in (often physical) struggle against a state or institution that is oppressing them.
from Merriam-Webster's dictionary,
and for reference...
- Derrick Jensen, interviewed in Mythmakers and Lawbreakers; Anarchist Writers on Fiction
I think that it easy to dismiss writing as a revolutionary act, much as it is easy to dismiss parenting, or urban homesteading as revolutionary acts. It is easy to reserve the nomenclature for those taking to the streets and engaging in (often physical) struggle against a state or institution that is oppressing them.
from Merriam-Webster's dictionary,
rev·o·lu·tion·ary
a : of, relating to, or constituting a revolution
b : tending to or promoting revolution
c : constituting or bringing about a major or fundamental change
and for reference...
rev·o·lu·tion
a : a sudden, radical, or complete change b : a fundamental change in political organization; especially : the overthrow or renunciation of one government or ruler and the substitution of another by the governed c : activity or movement designed to effect fundamental changes in the socioeconomic situation d : a fundamental change in the way of thinking about or visualizing something : a change of paradigm
The fundamental change that it would take to make our culture stop destroying the planet and ourselves is not going to come from one specific type of action. I have always loved the phrase "unity in diversity." The idea that our different strengths, working together, makes for a stronger whole.
I read the book Mythmakers and Lawbreakers: Anarchist Writers on Fiction for this project. It may seem at first glance like an unlikely book to fit into the premise of what I am doing, but I think it is incredibly pertinent. How do we convey our politics and worldview through fiction, whether consciously or unconsciously? Another question I ask myself as an aspiring writer of children's fiction is "Is this enough? Should I be putting my energy into something else?"
In one of the first interviews in the book, author Derrick Jensen talks about how as writers we should use the gifts we have in service to our community, as in that old Marxist adage, "From each according to his ability, to each according to his need."
Jensen goes on to talk about how stories create culture... "[T]here's this line by a Scottish balladeer: "If I could write all the ballads, I wouldn't care who wrote the laws." And it's so true because stories are how we learn--we are for better or worse social creatures-- and stories are how we learn to be human beings. And if the stories you see routinely show people like you committing acts of violence and getting away with it, you're going to be different than if stories routinely show you being victimized."
Jensen also quotes Bertolt Brecht who wrote, "Art is not a mirror with which to reflect life, rather a hammer with which to shape it."
Although I think it can, ideally, be a compelling balance of both.
The book goes on to interview 13 other authors about their relationship with fiction and politics, my favorite interview being with Alan Moore, author of the graphic novels V for Vendetta and Watchmen.
"Inevitably," writes Moore "if you are creating a painting or writing a story, you are making propaganda, in a sense, for the way you feel, the way that you think, the way you see the world. You are trying to express your own view of reality and existence, and that is inevitably going to be a political action..."
In conclusion the books editor, Margaret Killjoy, observes "I am not going to argue that all we need to do is write books or tell stories around the hearth. Of course not.... But fiction is part of that uprooting"
"Fiction is even more important for the young, because we model our ideal selves on role models. We need heroes to learn from, and we need anti-heroes to remember that none of us are, or will ever be, perfect."
Stories create culture. And recreate and recreate. And every author, every historian and every storyteller has their own experience in the world that colors the stories they tell. We have grown up in a world that favors stories told by a certain sector of people, coming from a very specific perspective. And the lifting of that lens, so that we can acknowledge this, makes the discussions around the stories we are telling easier to have. It also empowers us to to begin to seek out, and tell, stories from different perspectives and with values more in-line with our own. We have to be honest about the presence of bias before we can decide if we want to propagate the story being told.
The fundamental change that it would take to make our culture stop destroying the planet and ourselves is not going to come from one specific type of action. I have always loved the phrase "unity in diversity." The idea that our different strengths, working together, makes for a stronger whole.
I read the book Mythmakers and Lawbreakers: Anarchist Writers on Fiction for this project. It may seem at first glance like an unlikely book to fit into the premise of what I am doing, but I think it is incredibly pertinent. How do we convey our politics and worldview through fiction, whether consciously or unconsciously? Another question I ask myself as an aspiring writer of children's fiction is "Is this enough? Should I be putting my energy into something else?"
In one of the first interviews in the book, author Derrick Jensen talks about how as writers we should use the gifts we have in service to our community, as in that old Marxist adage, "From each according to his ability, to each according to his need."
Jensen goes on to talk about how stories create culture... "[T]here's this line by a Scottish balladeer: "If I could write all the ballads, I wouldn't care who wrote the laws." And it's so true because stories are how we learn--we are for better or worse social creatures-- and stories are how we learn to be human beings. And if the stories you see routinely show people like you committing acts of violence and getting away with it, you're going to be different than if stories routinely show you being victimized."
Jensen also quotes Bertolt Brecht who wrote, "Art is not a mirror with which to reflect life, rather a hammer with which to shape it."
Although I think it can, ideally, be a compelling balance of both.
The book goes on to interview 13 other authors about their relationship with fiction and politics, my favorite interview being with Alan Moore, author of the graphic novels V for Vendetta and Watchmen.
"Inevitably," writes Moore "if you are creating a painting or writing a story, you are making propaganda, in a sense, for the way you feel, the way that you think, the way you see the world. You are trying to express your own view of reality and existence, and that is inevitably going to be a political action..."
In conclusion the books editor, Margaret Killjoy, observes "I am not going to argue that all we need to do is write books or tell stories around the hearth. Of course not.... But fiction is part of that uprooting"
"Fiction is even more important for the young, because we model our ideal selves on role models. We need heroes to learn from, and we need anti-heroes to remember that none of us are, or will ever be, perfect."
Stories create culture. And recreate and recreate. And every author, every historian and every storyteller has their own experience in the world that colors the stories they tell. We have grown up in a world that favors stories told by a certain sector of people, coming from a very specific perspective. And the lifting of that lens, so that we can acknowledge this, makes the discussions around the stories we are telling easier to have. It also empowers us to to begin to seek out, and tell, stories from different perspectives and with values more in-line with our own. We have to be honest about the presence of bias before we can decide if we want to propagate the story being told.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
THE LIST: Books I Like #6
Pirate Girl by Cornelia Funke Illustrated by Kerstin Meyer
A simple story about a young pirate girl and her matriarchal pirate band and their encounter with an all male pirate crew. Silly, but a fun and empowering image of some bad-ass ladies.
Death of the Iron Horse by Paul Goble
I have mixed feelings about Goble's books. On the one hand, Goble writes beautifully about Native American folktales and history. On the other hand, I am uncomfortable with the fact that this is not his heritage, and being a white, British man, are they his stories to tell?
Death of the Iron Horse is the kind of kids' book I would like to see more of, as far as showing kids history from a perspective different than the one we normally hear in school and in the media. It tells the story of the derailment of a Union Pacific train by Cheyene people looking to defend their home from the encroachment of the white people who were stealing their land. Great book for opening discussion about history versus reality and the perceptions we have of Native American people.
And Tango Makes Three by Justin Richardson and Peter Parnell Illustrated by Henry Cole
The true story of two male penguins who get given an orphaned egg to hatch and raise as their own.
Nana Upstairs and Nana Downstairs by Tomie dePaola
My two favorite things about this book are how it shows families caring for their elders, and how begins to address death. I think that death is one of the things that we harm ourselves by waiting until we are confronted with it to figure out how we want to talk about it. This book begins to talk about aging and loss in a way that would be easy to share with kids.
The Little Green Goose by Adele Sansone Illustrated by Anke Faust
Mr. Goose wants a baby to raise himself, but none of the chickens will give him an egg to raise. He goes to the woods and finds a green egg that he sits on until out pops a baby lizard. Mr. Goose raises the baby as his own, in a story about what really makes a parent and a family.
Super Cilantro Girl by Juan Felipe Herrera Illustrated by Honorio Robledo Tapia
A great bilingual story about a young girl who turns into a superhero to rescue her mother who has been detained at the border for not having a green card. This story addresses how immigration issues affect families, and creates a space to talk further about these things with children.
A simple story about a young pirate girl and her matriarchal pirate band and their encounter with an all male pirate crew. Silly, but a fun and empowering image of some bad-ass ladies.
Death of the Iron Horse by Paul Goble
I have mixed feelings about Goble's books. On the one hand, Goble writes beautifully about Native American folktales and history. On the other hand, I am uncomfortable with the fact that this is not his heritage, and being a white, British man, are they his stories to tell?
Death of the Iron Horse is the kind of kids' book I would like to see more of, as far as showing kids history from a perspective different than the one we normally hear in school and in the media. It tells the story of the derailment of a Union Pacific train by Cheyene people looking to defend their home from the encroachment of the white people who were stealing their land. Great book for opening discussion about history versus reality and the perceptions we have of Native American people.
And Tango Makes Three by Justin Richardson and Peter Parnell Illustrated by Henry Cole
The true story of two male penguins who get given an orphaned egg to hatch and raise as their own.
Nana Upstairs and Nana Downstairs by Tomie dePaola
My two favorite things about this book are how it shows families caring for their elders, and how begins to address death. I think that death is one of the things that we harm ourselves by waiting until we are confronted with it to figure out how we want to talk about it. This book begins to talk about aging and loss in a way that would be easy to share with kids.
The Little Green Goose by Adele Sansone Illustrated by Anke Faust
Mr. Goose wants a baby to raise himself, but none of the chickens will give him an egg to raise. He goes to the woods and finds a green egg that he sits on until out pops a baby lizard. Mr. Goose raises the baby as his own, in a story about what really makes a parent and a family.
Super Cilantro Girl by Juan Felipe Herrera Illustrated by Honorio Robledo Tapia
A great bilingual story about a young girl who turns into a superhero to rescue her mother who has been detained at the border for not having a green card. This story addresses how immigration issues affect families, and creates a space to talk further about these things with children.
Monday, February 14, 2011
Remaining Neutral is a Sea of Indoctrination
When I am having conversations with folks about my parenting choices, such as not wanting them to watch TV or being picky about what books I read them, I am often met with this question: What is the point?
The entire question is usually something like, "What is the point of even trying to shield them from the things you object to? Mainstream culture will seep in, no matter what. Your kid will eventually play princess and drink soda. We grew up doing those things, and we turned out just fine..."
I get it. I get that I am going to make compromises. I get that I cannot shelter my kids from everything I don't like about the world. I get that my ultimate goal as a parent is to help my kids figure out how to navigate the realities they will encounter and make decisions that are healthy for them and their community. But I also think that holding off on, say, seeping them in binary gender stereotypes for the first few years of their lives might just help them have a more open mind to the concept of gender as a spectrum. That, yes, most of people I love who are radical thinkers and doers were raised in very "mainstream" ways and managed to dissect and dismantle so much of what they were taught to find ways of existing in the world that feel more fulfilling to them. But that shit hurts. A lot. Wading through the muck and mire of sexism and racism and homphobia and transphobia and classism is grueling work. What if we gave our kids a fighting chance by laying out some other ways of thinking about things. They are going to spend a lifetime navigating the dominant culture's values and biases, and giving them skills with which to do so critically, but also a real groundwork in more just ways of exisiting seems like a good idea, to me.
The thing is this: I don't think there is any such thing as neutral, in this case. If we are not learning one thing, than we are learning another. If we are not questioning then we are accepting. There is always a set of values being instilled; From books, from TV, from school, from family, from every interaction and all the language we use, we are just too used to the status quo to notice much of it. We are creating and re-creating our culture, and we get to decide what that will look like. It is not born in our cells. We have to learn it to create it. There is no neutral.
On this note, I would like to review a couple of books given to us by family members, with the best of intentions. In both cases, I can completely see why the book was chosen. Both books contain incredible artwork, and a message of inspiration and a commitment to empowerment and doing good things for the world. I want to dig deeper, though, into the cultural values that are being passed along by the ways we think of as "doing good."
Listen to the Wind; The Story of Dr. Greg & Three Cups of Tea by Greg Mortenson and Susan L. Roth Collages by Susan L. Roth
This is the kid's version of a very Oprah book-club book about a white, North American man who got lost hiking in the mountains of Pakistan. As a way of thanking the village of people that nursed him back to health, and returns to civilize them. Basically.
To me it is an age-old story of the missionary. That we are taught that the values and ideals we have as white, western, christian, capitalist people is the ideal that the rest of the world wants, or should want.
Dr. Greg helps to build them a school because they weren't equipped to do any "real" learning without desks and chalkboards, of course. Where now they study English and have the attention of the entire world who can get to them by the brand -new bridge that Dr. Greg altruistically helped to build. Lucky them. A couple of books written about you and a bridge, literally and figuratively, to Western culture. One more nail in the coffin of the beauty of authentic diversity and intact cultures.
The ideal of the the selfless missionary is one we are fed again and again in our culture, and the underlying value seems to be of "taming the heathens," a deeply ingrained christian, colonialist goal.
This particular story also invokes images of the blue eyed, white knight, singlehandedly coming to the rescue of those that are being unjustly imprisoned, in this case by their indigenous lifestyle and un-civilized intelligence.
I get the point of the story, but the story does not stand alone. It is part of the larger story we are telling about our values and the value of the rest of the world. In this context, I do not feel the need to pass along one more version of this lesson to my children.
Of Thee I Sing; A Letter to My Daughters by Barack Obama Illustrated by Loren Long
There is actually a lot about this book that I like. When my mother first gave it to us, it was with the the warning "I know that you are gonna dismiss this, but it is really beautiful, and you should give it a chance."
She was right on both counts. I did roll my eyes when she gave me a book written by Barack Obama, and after reading it, I agree that it is beautiful. The artwork is incredible, and the message he his trying to send to his daughters about how strong and capable they are is moving.
The deeper messages of this book overshadow those two points, though, and after dismissing it, reeling my initial judgment back in, and giving it a chance, I am now going to give it an informed dismiss.
Each page of this book highlights an individual who has a character trait he wishes for his daughters: Creative, smart, brave, healer, kind, strong, etc. The individuals are all famous historical figures, diverse in race and split between 5 women and 8 men. Though both Martin Luther King, Jr and Cesar Chavez were part of movements, they are primarily known as the heads, or starters of those movements. The rest of the people featured are all known for their individual accomplishments, and not all of them are people's whose accomplishments I think are worth idealizing in the first place.
Neil Armstrong, for example. NASA's darling and the epitome of American values. Personally I do not feel like spending countless billions of dollars to send people and machinery into outer space when we are already consuming and devestating the planet we inhabit is a terrifying example of manifest destiny on steroids. The fact that this man, who was backed by these billions of dollars, is thought of as a hero is sort of baffling to me. I can understand how crazy and scary it would be to do what he did, but in what ways do his actions do anything actually beneficial for humankind, let alone, this planet we exist as a part of?!
Or George Washington, or Abraham Lincoln? The first, a figurehead, like all presidents, of a system that was oppressive from it's very conception. The second, one who received the disproportionate credit for ending slavery, which was brought into reality by a movement of people, while his actions were actually benefiting his chance of staying in a position of power and assisting supporting interests ability to continue to function profitably.
As a whole, the book is just peddling patriotism and the very American ideal of the individual being the most powerful entity, instead of people working collectively to create change.
This is not to say that I don't think Einstein was an incredible thinker, or O'Keefe an amazing painter. But the overarching ideal, again, of the individual being the most powerful force, even within a movement (Martin Luther King encapsulating the civil rights movement, or Cesar Chavez being the face of the migrant farmworker movement) supports the idea that it takes something special to do these amazing things, and that an "average" person does not possess this strength.
The entire question is usually something like, "What is the point of even trying to shield them from the things you object to? Mainstream culture will seep in, no matter what. Your kid will eventually play princess and drink soda. We grew up doing those things, and we turned out just fine..."
I get it. I get that I am going to make compromises. I get that I cannot shelter my kids from everything I don't like about the world. I get that my ultimate goal as a parent is to help my kids figure out how to navigate the realities they will encounter and make decisions that are healthy for them and their community. But I also think that holding off on, say, seeping them in binary gender stereotypes for the first few years of their lives might just help them have a more open mind to the concept of gender as a spectrum. That, yes, most of people I love who are radical thinkers and doers were raised in very "mainstream" ways and managed to dissect and dismantle so much of what they were taught to find ways of existing in the world that feel more fulfilling to them. But that shit hurts. A lot. Wading through the muck and mire of sexism and racism and homphobia and transphobia and classism is grueling work. What if we gave our kids a fighting chance by laying out some other ways of thinking about things. They are going to spend a lifetime navigating the dominant culture's values and biases, and giving them skills with which to do so critically, but also a real groundwork in more just ways of exisiting seems like a good idea, to me.
The thing is this: I don't think there is any such thing as neutral, in this case. If we are not learning one thing, than we are learning another. If we are not questioning then we are accepting. There is always a set of values being instilled; From books, from TV, from school, from family, from every interaction and all the language we use, we are just too used to the status quo to notice much of it. We are creating and re-creating our culture, and we get to decide what that will look like. It is not born in our cells. We have to learn it to create it. There is no neutral.
On this note, I would like to review a couple of books given to us by family members, with the best of intentions. In both cases, I can completely see why the book was chosen. Both books contain incredible artwork, and a message of inspiration and a commitment to empowerment and doing good things for the world. I want to dig deeper, though, into the cultural values that are being passed along by the ways we think of as "doing good."
Listen to the Wind; The Story of Dr. Greg & Three Cups of Tea by Greg Mortenson and Susan L. Roth Collages by Susan L. Roth
This is the kid's version of a very Oprah book-club book about a white, North American man who got lost hiking in the mountains of Pakistan. As a way of thanking the village of people that nursed him back to health, and returns to civilize them. Basically.
To me it is an age-old story of the missionary. That we are taught that the values and ideals we have as white, western, christian, capitalist people is the ideal that the rest of the world wants, or should want.
Dr. Greg helps to build them a school because they weren't equipped to do any "real" learning without desks and chalkboards, of course. Where now they study English and have the attention of the entire world who can get to them by the brand -new bridge that Dr. Greg altruistically helped to build. Lucky them. A couple of books written about you and a bridge, literally and figuratively, to Western culture. One more nail in the coffin of the beauty of authentic diversity and intact cultures.
The ideal of the the selfless missionary is one we are fed again and again in our culture, and the underlying value seems to be of "taming the heathens," a deeply ingrained christian, colonialist goal.
This particular story also invokes images of the blue eyed, white knight, singlehandedly coming to the rescue of those that are being unjustly imprisoned, in this case by their indigenous lifestyle and un-civilized intelligence.
I get the point of the story, but the story does not stand alone. It is part of the larger story we are telling about our values and the value of the rest of the world. In this context, I do not feel the need to pass along one more version of this lesson to my children.
Of Thee I Sing; A Letter to My Daughters by Barack Obama Illustrated by Loren Long
There is actually a lot about this book that I like. When my mother first gave it to us, it was with the the warning "I know that you are gonna dismiss this, but it is really beautiful, and you should give it a chance."
She was right on both counts. I did roll my eyes when she gave me a book written by Barack Obama, and after reading it, I agree that it is beautiful. The artwork is incredible, and the message he his trying to send to his daughters about how strong and capable they are is moving.
The deeper messages of this book overshadow those two points, though, and after dismissing it, reeling my initial judgment back in, and giving it a chance, I am now going to give it an informed dismiss.
Each page of this book highlights an individual who has a character trait he wishes for his daughters: Creative, smart, brave, healer, kind, strong, etc. The individuals are all famous historical figures, diverse in race and split between 5 women and 8 men. Though both Martin Luther King, Jr and Cesar Chavez were part of movements, they are primarily known as the heads, or starters of those movements. The rest of the people featured are all known for their individual accomplishments, and not all of them are people's whose accomplishments I think are worth idealizing in the first place.
Neil Armstrong, for example. NASA's darling and the epitome of American values. Personally I do not feel like spending countless billions of dollars to send people and machinery into outer space when we are already consuming and devestating the planet we inhabit is a terrifying example of manifest destiny on steroids. The fact that this man, who was backed by these billions of dollars, is thought of as a hero is sort of baffling to me. I can understand how crazy and scary it would be to do what he did, but in what ways do his actions do anything actually beneficial for humankind, let alone, this planet we exist as a part of?!
Or George Washington, or Abraham Lincoln? The first, a figurehead, like all presidents, of a system that was oppressive from it's very conception. The second, one who received the disproportionate credit for ending slavery, which was brought into reality by a movement of people, while his actions were actually benefiting his chance of staying in a position of power and assisting supporting interests ability to continue to function profitably.
As a whole, the book is just peddling patriotism and the very American ideal of the individual being the most powerful entity, instead of people working collectively to create change.
This is not to say that I don't think Einstein was an incredible thinker, or O'Keefe an amazing painter. But the overarching ideal, again, of the individual being the most powerful force, even within a movement (Martin Luther King encapsulating the civil rights movement, or Cesar Chavez being the face of the migrant farmworker movement) supports the idea that it takes something special to do these amazing things, and that an "average" person does not possess this strength.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
The List, Thus Far
I have been wanting to compile the list of books I have reviewed, am excited to share with kids and recommend to adults. So here it is....
This list includes books that I like to call "Liberation Literature"
I define Liberation Literature as a book deals with one, or more, of the following topics:
1. Portrays loving respectful relationships between people, regardless of gender
2. Shows adults giving children autonomy and treating them with respect
3. Does not place rigid gender boundaries, or deals with the idea of gender as something other than binary
4. Shows family structures outside of the assumed "nuclear family" model
5. Portrays people of color as the lead character/ majority of the characters, without necessarily needing their ethnicity as a plot point
6. Uses cultural references from other sources than the "white/ christian" American perceived norm, especially without necessarily needing it as a plot point
7. Portrays working class, low income or transient folks with a normalcy and respect
8. Portrays life outside the capitalist system
9. Illustrates people living in/ or working to live in harmony with their surroundings
10. Questions the dominant culture of sexism, racism, heterosexism, classism and environmental devastation in a clever, beautiful, or profound way.
My Princess Boy by Cheryl Kilodavis Illustrated by Suzanne DeSimone
Looking Like Me by Walter Dean Myers Illustrated by Christopher Myers
Tough Chicks by Cece Meng Illustrated by Melissa Suber
All Kind of Families by Mary Ann Hoberman Illustrated by Marc Boutavant
Not One Damsel in Distress; World Folktales for Strong Girls by Jane Yolen Illustrated by Susan Guevara
When the Moon is Full; A Lunar Year by Penny Pollack Illustrated by Mary Azarian
Hush Little Baby by Sylvia Long
We Were Tired of Living in a House byLiesel Moak Skorpen Illustrated by Doris Burn
This Land is Your Land by Woody Guthrie Illustrated by Kathy Jakobsen
Just Like Me; Stories and Self- Portraits by Fourteen Artists ed. by Harriet Rohmer
Heather Has Two Mommies by Leslea Newman Illustrated by Diana Souza
And Tango Makes Three by Peter Parnell
In Our Mother's House by Patricia Polacco
Uncle Bobby's Wedding by Sarah S. Brannen
The Family Book by Todd Parr
King and King and Family by Linda de Haan and Stern Nijland
King and King by Linda de Haan and Stern Nijland
Old MacDonald had a Woodshop by Lisa Shulman Illustrated by Ashley Wolff
Kate and the Beanstalk by Mary Pope Osborne Illustrated by Giselle Potter
Free to Be, You and Me by Marlo Thomas and Friends
Night Shift Daddy by Eileen Spinelli, Illustrated by Melissa Iwai
Smoky Night by Eve Bunting, Illustrated by David Diaz
The Table Where Rich People Sit by Byrd Baylor, Illustrated by Peter Parnell
The Tin Forest by Helen Ward and Wayne Anderson
The Dumpster Diver by Janet S. Wong, Illustrated by David Roberts
Stories For Free Children ed. by Letty Cottin Pogrebin
The Keeping Quilt by Patricia Polacco
Blueberries for Sal by Robert McCloskey
This list includes books that I like to call "Liberation Literature"
I define Liberation Literature as a book deals with one, or more, of the following topics:
1. Portrays loving respectful relationships between people, regardless of gender
2. Shows adults giving children autonomy and treating them with respect
3. Does not place rigid gender boundaries, or deals with the idea of gender as something other than binary
4. Shows family structures outside of the assumed "nuclear family" model
5. Portrays people of color as the lead character/ majority of the characters, without necessarily needing their ethnicity as a plot point
6. Uses cultural references from other sources than the "white/ christian" American perceived norm, especially without necessarily needing it as a plot point
7. Portrays working class, low income or transient folks with a normalcy and respect
8. Portrays life outside the capitalist system
9. Illustrates people living in/ or working to live in harmony with their surroundings
10. Questions the dominant culture of sexism, racism, heterosexism, classism and environmental devastation in a clever, beautiful, or profound way.
My Princess Boy by Cheryl Kilodavis Illustrated by Suzanne DeSimone
Looking Like Me by Walter Dean Myers Illustrated by Christopher Myers
Tough Chicks by Cece Meng Illustrated by Melissa Suber
All Kind of Families by Mary Ann Hoberman Illustrated by Marc Boutavant
Not One Damsel in Distress; World Folktales for Strong Girls by Jane Yolen Illustrated by Susan Guevara
When the Moon is Full; A Lunar Year by Penny Pollack Illustrated by Mary Azarian
Hush Little Baby by Sylvia Long
We Were Tired of Living in a House byLiesel Moak Skorpen Illustrated by Doris Burn
This Land is Your Land by Woody Guthrie Illustrated by Kathy Jakobsen
Just Like Me; Stories and Self- Portraits by Fourteen Artists ed. by Harriet Rohmer
Heather Has Two Mommies by Leslea Newman Illustrated by Diana Souza
And Tango Makes Three by Peter Parnell
In Our Mother's House by Patricia Polacco
Uncle Bobby's Wedding by Sarah S. Brannen
The Family Book by Todd Parr
King and King and Family by Linda de Haan and Stern Nijland
King and King by Linda de Haan and Stern Nijland
Old MacDonald had a Woodshop by Lisa Shulman Illustrated by Ashley Wolff
Kate and the Beanstalk by Mary Pope Osborne Illustrated by Giselle Potter
Free to Be, You and Me by Marlo Thomas and Friends
Night Shift Daddy by Eileen Spinelli, Illustrated by Melissa Iwai
Smoky Night by Eve Bunting, Illustrated by David Diaz
The Table Where Rich People Sit by Byrd Baylor, Illustrated by Peter Parnell
The Tin Forest by Helen Ward and Wayne Anderson
The Dumpster Diver by Janet S. Wong, Illustrated by David Roberts
Stories For Free Children ed. by Letty Cottin Pogrebin
The Keeping Quilt by Patricia Polacco
Blueberries for Sal by Robert McCloskey
Friday, February 4, 2011
THE LIST: Books I Like #5
My Princess Boy by Cheryl Kilodavis Illustrated by Suzanne DeSimone
I was excited when this book came out (officially just a few weeks ago!) I had been reading and watching local news stories about it for a couple of months, as the author is from nearby Seattle. In a couple of weeks the author is going to be at the library here in town, and I am looking forward to hearing her speak.
The intention behind this book is beautiful and something I have watched a lot of friends figure out how to face with their own kids; How do you deal with the social repercussions of your male child wanting to wear dresses and sparkly things?
For the most part I love the execution of the book as well. The illustrations are simple and sweetly childlike. I also really appreciate the honesty with which the author is speaking to children about something that can feel terrible to all of us: the judgment of others. I think people of all ages can relate to this feeling and it is nice to see a children's book address it head-on.
My only critique of the book, and something I change while reading it to my children, is the use of the word "girl" when pointing out the sort of clothes and beautiful things that the child is drawn to. I understand that the dominant social language refers to things such as clothing and toys by rigidly putting them into boxes with binary gender pronouns, and I think, as people questioning the relevance of that, that language is one of the first things that needs to change. By still calling them "girls' clothes" and "girl things" we are perpetuating the idea that there is a gendered box that "normal" people fit into depending on their sex. That that identity comes with pre-arranged likes and dislikes including toys, jobs, colors and so much else.
I know that Kilodavis is working hard to help make room for acceptance for her child and all those who don't fit into stereotypes and cultural expectations. The truth is, that most of us don't, and I think we all need to work harder to dissolve the useless boxes we cram each other into, and language is an incredibly powerful part of that.
Looking Like Me by Walter Dean Myers Illustrated by Christopher Myers
One of my new favorite books! A vibrant, exciting book to read to kids, with a lyrical quality and a part that gets repeated, (which they love!) This book talks about all the different identities that we wear, with a particularly Suess-ian quality and unique color-blocked illustrations over colaged photographs.
It is also positive, urban, and full of beautiful images of people of color.
Tough Chicks by Cece Meng Illustrated by Melissa Suber
Awesome story about three baby chicks who are spunky, curious and different than the other chicks. The other mama hens and the farmer want Mama Hen to "make them be good," to which she replies, "But they're tough and they're smart and they're different in a good way."
The farmer's tractor breaks and the three tough chicks know how to fix it, and finally everyone appreciates how tough, smart and good they are.
This book is a great metaphor for what we do to girls in our culture by expecting them to "Be cute. Be quiet. Be good."
Tough chicks shows three strong, smart, little dudes whose curiosity (and the support of their awesome mama) helps them to help their community in the end.
All Kind of Families by Mary Ann Hoberman Illustrated by Marc Boutavant
"Bottlecaps, gingersnaps, buttons or rings
You can make families from all sorts of things!"
All Kinds of Families talks about all the different things that can be a family, the different ways people can be a family, and the way we come from our ancestors and will become ancestors ourselves.
The book is super fun to read with it's sing-songy style and fun to look at with it's super-hipster art.
There is one image of a white person wearing a stereotypical "Indian" feather headdress as costume, which is pretty racist and I wish was not in the book. There is also a page depicting marriage that reads:
"A saucer and cup can be brother and sister
A comb and a brush can be husband and wife
A plate and a bowl can be missus and mister
And so can the spoon or the fork or the knife"
I love the sentiment, and it almost speaks to marriage equality, if the the pronouns weren't as gender specific. I am still trying to figure out the best way to read that page to the kids.
I was excited when this book came out (officially just a few weeks ago!) I had been reading and watching local news stories about it for a couple of months, as the author is from nearby Seattle. In a couple of weeks the author is going to be at the library here in town, and I am looking forward to hearing her speak.
The intention behind this book is beautiful and something I have watched a lot of friends figure out how to face with their own kids; How do you deal with the social repercussions of your male child wanting to wear dresses and sparkly things?
For the most part I love the execution of the book as well. The illustrations are simple and sweetly childlike. I also really appreciate the honesty with which the author is speaking to children about something that can feel terrible to all of us: the judgment of others. I think people of all ages can relate to this feeling and it is nice to see a children's book address it head-on.
My only critique of the book, and something I change while reading it to my children, is the use of the word "girl" when pointing out the sort of clothes and beautiful things that the child is drawn to. I understand that the dominant social language refers to things such as clothing and toys by rigidly putting them into boxes with binary gender pronouns, and I think, as people questioning the relevance of that, that language is one of the first things that needs to change. By still calling them "girls' clothes" and "girl things" we are perpetuating the idea that there is a gendered box that "normal" people fit into depending on their sex. That that identity comes with pre-arranged likes and dislikes including toys, jobs, colors and so much else.
I know that Kilodavis is working hard to help make room for acceptance for her child and all those who don't fit into stereotypes and cultural expectations. The truth is, that most of us don't, and I think we all need to work harder to dissolve the useless boxes we cram each other into, and language is an incredibly powerful part of that.
Looking Like Me by Walter Dean Myers Illustrated by Christopher Myers
One of my new favorite books! A vibrant, exciting book to read to kids, with a lyrical quality and a part that gets repeated, (which they love!) This book talks about all the different identities that we wear, with a particularly Suess-ian quality and unique color-blocked illustrations over colaged photographs.
It is also positive, urban, and full of beautiful images of people of color.
Tough Chicks by Cece Meng Illustrated by Melissa Suber
Awesome story about three baby chicks who are spunky, curious and different than the other chicks. The other mama hens and the farmer want Mama Hen to "make them be good," to which she replies, "But they're tough and they're smart and they're different in a good way."
The farmer's tractor breaks and the three tough chicks know how to fix it, and finally everyone appreciates how tough, smart and good they are.
This book is a great metaphor for what we do to girls in our culture by expecting them to "Be cute. Be quiet. Be good."
Tough chicks shows three strong, smart, little dudes whose curiosity (and the support of their awesome mama) helps them to help their community in the end.
All Kind of Families by Mary Ann Hoberman Illustrated by Marc Boutavant
"Bottlecaps, gingersnaps, buttons or rings
You can make families from all sorts of things!"
All Kinds of Families talks about all the different things that can be a family, the different ways people can be a family, and the way we come from our ancestors and will become ancestors ourselves.
The book is super fun to read with it's sing-songy style and fun to look at with it's super-hipster art.
There is one image of a white person wearing a stereotypical "Indian" feather headdress as costume, which is pretty racist and I wish was not in the book. There is also a page depicting marriage that reads:
"A saucer and cup can be brother and sister
A comb and a brush can be husband and wife
A plate and a bowl can be missus and mister
And so can the spoon or the fork or the knife"
I love the sentiment, and it almost speaks to marriage equality, if the the pronouns weren't as gender specific. I am still trying to figure out the best way to read that page to the kids.
Monday, January 31, 2011
It's all in the Balance
I constantly think that I am doing too little. Not accomplishing enough. That everyone I admire is more productive, active, radical, inspired and on top of their shit than I am. No matter how much is on my plate, I feel like I am lazy, and, as I pile more on, and am able to finish less and less, I become even more critical of myself.
I don't think that I am alone in this spiral. In some ways I think that it is many layers deep. It is a cultural thing, a gender thing, a mother thing, a subcultural thing. It is because of my parents, my education, my assumed "gifted" status, and then the resulting assumption of my "laziness" because of my disinterest in what was being offered up. There are almost too many factors to count. But I have not yet figured out the balance.
There is so much I want to do in this lifetime, and the time is short. I have a hard time saying no to opportunities. And then am often depressed about how half-assed I do everything.
I am writing all of this on this blog, instead of my "personal" blog just to lay it on the table. I am overwhelmed and, if it is possible, overinspired. But how can one really complain about that?!
I keep this blog about youth liberation, and the re-thinking of childhood partially because I am using it as a way to process things I am researching for college. But it is not FOR college. It is for me. This is the work that I do in my head, in my heart, in my journal, in discussions with friends, in my interactions with my children and partner, everyday. This work is vitally important to me and my purpose as a revolutionary. I believe in the revolution of childhood. I believe that we can change the world for the better. I believe that we can exist as a culture in more sane and healthy ways, and that this is my piece of that struggle.
I am appreciative of the parameters that I have set up around this project that make it possible for me to count it as credit towards school. I genuinely appreciate the fact that I attend a university that has a way for this sort of liberatory learning to be acknowledged. But it is also frustrating. Life does not move on a schedule, and rarely do children's needs, or opportunities for adventure and growth fit neatly into a syllabus.
I am struggling to follow my gut about how to spend my time with my kids, and find inspiration and fulfillment for myself, and still "accomplish" what needs to be done for me to be a college student.
So there. I said it.
I love love love what I am doing with this project, and want to continue. I also love the fact that my two two-years-olds and I just spent the most amazing two weeks on tour playing music, traveling over 2,000 miles with the most beautiful, inspiring group of folks, even if I didn't do a lick of "schoolwork" along the way.
Here's hoping I can dive back in without the weight of artificial expectations and continue to find the joy that I have found in this project thus far.
I don't think that I am alone in this spiral. In some ways I think that it is many layers deep. It is a cultural thing, a gender thing, a mother thing, a subcultural thing. It is because of my parents, my education, my assumed "gifted" status, and then the resulting assumption of my "laziness" because of my disinterest in what was being offered up. There are almost too many factors to count. But I have not yet figured out the balance.
There is so much I want to do in this lifetime, and the time is short. I have a hard time saying no to opportunities. And then am often depressed about how half-assed I do everything.
I am writing all of this on this blog, instead of my "personal" blog just to lay it on the table. I am overwhelmed and, if it is possible, overinspired. But how can one really complain about that?!
I keep this blog about youth liberation, and the re-thinking of childhood partially because I am using it as a way to process things I am researching for college. But it is not FOR college. It is for me. This is the work that I do in my head, in my heart, in my journal, in discussions with friends, in my interactions with my children and partner, everyday. This work is vitally important to me and my purpose as a revolutionary. I believe in the revolution of childhood. I believe that we can change the world for the better. I believe that we can exist as a culture in more sane and healthy ways, and that this is my piece of that struggle.
I am appreciative of the parameters that I have set up around this project that make it possible for me to count it as credit towards school. I genuinely appreciate the fact that I attend a university that has a way for this sort of liberatory learning to be acknowledged. But it is also frustrating. Life does not move on a schedule, and rarely do children's needs, or opportunities for adventure and growth fit neatly into a syllabus.
I am struggling to follow my gut about how to spend my time with my kids, and find inspiration and fulfillment for myself, and still "accomplish" what needs to be done for me to be a college student.
So there. I said it.
I love love love what I am doing with this project, and want to continue. I also love the fact that my two two-years-olds and I just spent the most amazing two weeks on tour playing music, traveling over 2,000 miles with the most beautiful, inspiring group of folks, even if I didn't do a lick of "schoolwork" along the way.
Here's hoping I can dive back in without the weight of artificial expectations and continue to find the joy that I have found in this project thus far.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Run Away, Bunny!!!
This morning while trying to numb my sinus headache with a cup of black coffee, my tiniest of tinies, who we shall call Magpie, rushed into the living room carrying a book for me to read. "Bunny book! Bunny book!"
"What book is that?" I asked, not recognizing the cover.
When she handed me the book I realized that it was from a pile of books that were meant to be returned to the abyss, or the bookstore, whichever I could get to first. The Runaway Bunny by Margaret Wise Brown and illustrated by Clement Hurd was a book that had been given to us in a box of hand-me-downs, and I briefly commented on in a blog post many months back.
Brown and Hurd are the creators of the classic Goodnight Moon, a staple at bedtime in many homes, ours included. I thought that I would revisit the "Bunny book" by reading it to Magpie and Sweetpea, and see why it was that I love the former and was banishing the latter.
The first page of the book reads as follows:
"Once there was a little bunny who wanted to run away. So he said to his mother, "I am running away." "If you run away," said his mother, "I will run after you. For you are my little bunny."
Ok. I get the premise. As a mother, the thought of my children leaving the safety and love of my embrace is challenging. If I think about it happening anytime soon, I would be a wreck. But even if when I think of them growing up and leaving home, for a night or off into their own adventures, I get a little choked up. This is not a new or unusual thought for a mother. We love our babies and we want them to be safe and cared for.
There are endless children's books with this premise, and they fall into a couple of categories. First, a book like Guess How Much I Love You by Sam McBratney and illustrated by Anita Jeram, which is all about the boundless love of a caregiver for their small companion. In this book, and books like it, the emphasis is on the depth and breadth of the love one feels for their child. To assure the child that this love will be with them wherever they go, and be there when they return.
The Runaway Bunny is the kids book version of "Every Breath You Take" by the Police. "Dude! (or Mom!) Just give me a little space, ok?"
Here is how our reading of the story went this chilly, new year morning...
"If you run after me, " said the little bunny, "I will become a fish in a trout stream and I will swim away from you"
"If you become a fish in a tout stream," said his mother, "I will become a fisherman and I will fish for you."
Me: "If YOU were a little bunny and you ran away from me and became a fish in a trout stream, I would sit at the shore and dangle my toes in the water so you could see them wiggling and find your way back, if you'd like!"(And I promise not to try and spear you with a fish hook cause that is creepy and would hurt your body."
" If you become a fisherman," said the little bunny, "I will become a rock on the mountain, high above you."
"If you become a rock on the mountain high above me," said his mother, "I will be a mountain climber, and I will climb to where you are."
Me: "If YOU want to be a rock on the mountain high above me, I will look out my window and marvel at how the sunsets make you glow all orange and gold in the evening. And if you invite me to, I will climb the mountain to sit beside you and listen to the songs you sing to the moon."
Ok... You get it. It goes on like this. The little bunny becomes a flower, and a bird, a tightrope walker, a little boy and, most disturbingly, a boat to which his mother says,
"If you become a sailboat and sail away from me," said his mother, "I will become the wind and blow you where I want you to go."
In the end, the bunny, defeated, decides that he might as well just stay a little bunny.
I think that this book speaks to our ideas as a culture about our relationship with our children in a more overt way than many that are actually saying the same thing. We see children as our property. We don't see children as autonomous creatures with desires and ideas of their own. In my opinion, this is one of the most destructive things we do to ourselves and our futures.
For the first part of our lives, when we are learning how to be a part of our family, and our community, and ultimately, the world, we are actually taught that our needs and ideas are unimportant and a burden. We are not really listened to, or communicated with, and especially if we are engaged in mainstream education, taught that the most important thing to do is obey and follow the rules.
Then, we are spewed out into the world with no real sense of our own identity or skills of critical thinking or how to get our needs met while also respecting the needs of those around us. It seems to me that these would be the key skills to a functioning society.
The "children as property" idea seems so archaic, but it is still enforced as upheld in so many ways. I feel great pain anytime a see a child being interacted with by an adult in a way where their needs are not being taken into consideration. What if in situations where we as adults have a need or a want that is different than the child's need or want, we stopped and imagined what it was like for us as a child in a similar situation. How would we have wanted someone to interact with us. Often, my desire for the situation wins out over my kids, mostly when I have an understanding of the consequence of their actions that they cannot yet grasp. Running into the street, or eating nothing but raisins for an entire day are a couple of example of situations in which I said no and made a different plan.
Ultimately our job as parents is to help our children go off into the world and leave us. Hopefully, if we have done our jobs, they will make healthy and smart decisions. Hopefully, if we have loved them and built communicative relationships with them, they will be exited to return home and share stories of their adventures with us.
This book hits a deep nerve with me. I don't want my kids to feel like they are just extensions of me, or are in any way my "property." I do understand the desire to have them feel safe and loved and want to come home to me. But it seems like threatening them with stalking, and tracking them down if they try to get away from me is not the best way to make this happen.
So, you poor little bunny, you will have to fight your battle with your mama on someone else's bookshelf. Or, the recycling bin. We'll see....
"What book is that?" I asked, not recognizing the cover.
When she handed me the book I realized that it was from a pile of books that were meant to be returned to the abyss, or the bookstore, whichever I could get to first. The Runaway Bunny by Margaret Wise Brown and illustrated by Clement Hurd was a book that had been given to us in a box of hand-me-downs, and I briefly commented on in a blog post many months back.
Brown and Hurd are the creators of the classic Goodnight Moon, a staple at bedtime in many homes, ours included. I thought that I would revisit the "Bunny book" by reading it to Magpie and Sweetpea, and see why it was that I love the former and was banishing the latter.
The first page of the book reads as follows:
"Once there was a little bunny who wanted to run away. So he said to his mother, "I am running away." "If you run away," said his mother, "I will run after you. For you are my little bunny."
Ok. I get the premise. As a mother, the thought of my children leaving the safety and love of my embrace is challenging. If I think about it happening anytime soon, I would be a wreck. But even if when I think of them growing up and leaving home, for a night or off into their own adventures, I get a little choked up. This is not a new or unusual thought for a mother. We love our babies and we want them to be safe and cared for.
There are endless children's books with this premise, and they fall into a couple of categories. First, a book like Guess How Much I Love You by Sam McBratney and illustrated by Anita Jeram, which is all about the boundless love of a caregiver for their small companion. In this book, and books like it, the emphasis is on the depth and breadth of the love one feels for their child. To assure the child that this love will be with them wherever they go, and be there when they return.
The Runaway Bunny is the kids book version of "Every Breath You Take" by the Police. "Dude! (or Mom!) Just give me a little space, ok?"
Here is how our reading of the story went this chilly, new year morning...
"If you run after me, " said the little bunny, "I will become a fish in a trout stream and I will swim away from you"
"If you become a fish in a tout stream," said his mother, "I will become a fisherman and I will fish for you."
Me: "If YOU were a little bunny and you ran away from me and became a fish in a trout stream, I would sit at the shore and dangle my toes in the water so you could see them wiggling and find your way back, if you'd like!"(And I promise not to try and spear you with a fish hook cause that is creepy and would hurt your body."
" If you become a fisherman," said the little bunny, "I will become a rock on the mountain, high above you."
"If you become a rock on the mountain high above me," said his mother, "I will be a mountain climber, and I will climb to where you are."
Me: "If YOU want to be a rock on the mountain high above me, I will look out my window and marvel at how the sunsets make you glow all orange and gold in the evening. And if you invite me to, I will climb the mountain to sit beside you and listen to the songs you sing to the moon."
Ok... You get it. It goes on like this. The little bunny becomes a flower, and a bird, a tightrope walker, a little boy and, most disturbingly, a boat to which his mother says,
"If you become a sailboat and sail away from me," said his mother, "I will become the wind and blow you where I want you to go."
In the end, the bunny, defeated, decides that he might as well just stay a little bunny.
I think that this book speaks to our ideas as a culture about our relationship with our children in a more overt way than many that are actually saying the same thing. We see children as our property. We don't see children as autonomous creatures with desires and ideas of their own. In my opinion, this is one of the most destructive things we do to ourselves and our futures.
For the first part of our lives, when we are learning how to be a part of our family, and our community, and ultimately, the world, we are actually taught that our needs and ideas are unimportant and a burden. We are not really listened to, or communicated with, and especially if we are engaged in mainstream education, taught that the most important thing to do is obey and follow the rules.
Then, we are spewed out into the world with no real sense of our own identity or skills of critical thinking or how to get our needs met while also respecting the needs of those around us. It seems to me that these would be the key skills to a functioning society.
The "children as property" idea seems so archaic, but it is still enforced as upheld in so many ways. I feel great pain anytime a see a child being interacted with by an adult in a way where their needs are not being taken into consideration. What if in situations where we as adults have a need or a want that is different than the child's need or want, we stopped and imagined what it was like for us as a child in a similar situation. How would we have wanted someone to interact with us. Often, my desire for the situation wins out over my kids, mostly when I have an understanding of the consequence of their actions that they cannot yet grasp. Running into the street, or eating nothing but raisins for an entire day are a couple of example of situations in which I said no and made a different plan.
Ultimately our job as parents is to help our children go off into the world and leave us. Hopefully, if we have done our jobs, they will make healthy and smart decisions. Hopefully, if we have loved them and built communicative relationships with them, they will be exited to return home and share stories of their adventures with us.
This book hits a deep nerve with me. I don't want my kids to feel like they are just extensions of me, or are in any way my "property." I do understand the desire to have them feel safe and loved and want to come home to me. But it seems like threatening them with stalking, and tracking them down if they try to get away from me is not the best way to make this happen.
So, you poor little bunny, you will have to fight your battle with your mama on someone else's bookshelf. Or, the recycling bin. We'll see....
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