The first guest post of 2021 is a beautiful tribute to those of us who love reading and who love buying books for others. Melanie Shoffner is one of my colleagues I consider to be a born leader. In this post, she is again and providing us a model for sharing books with others. Her fourth paragraph below is stunning example of allusions and memories. I found myself mentally creating a list of allusions that would also serve as references to many of the books that shaped my own reading history. I also found secrets in old clocks and explored Welsh mountains. Thanks Melanie for a wonderful start to a new year.

For the last 30 years, my nieces and nephews (and now great niece!) have been enrolled in Aunt Melanie’s Book Club. I’m the aunt who gives books – for birthdays, for Christmas, sometimes just because. I’m also the aunt who gives a red Radio Flyer scooter when you turn two and black steampunk leggings when you turn 22 but there’s always a book or three tucked into the box, to0.

You’d expect nothing less from a former English teacher and current ELA educator. After all, I’ve chosen a profession grounded in engaging with text; I’ve spent the greater part of my life considering what and how and why secondary students and preservice teachers read. I teach that books offer doors to different worlds, windows to diverse experiences, and mirrors of readers’ identities (Bishop, 1990); that reading challenges understandings, beliefs, and perspectives (e.g., Bruce et al, 2008; Thein et al, 2007); that diverse texts disrupt “the historic violence and the erasure of marginalized communities” (Ebarvia et al, 2020, p. 100); that reading can develop empathy and critical thinking (e.g., Alsup, 2015; Vogt et al, 2016). I don’t need to convince this audience that young adult literature can expand and challenge and connect and disrupt, even if we spend a fair amount of time trying to convince others.

But I must confess, these aren’t the reasons determining my text selections. They are often the outcome and they are sometimes the provocation but they aren’t the founding principle of this book club. My goal is less sophisticated, perhaps, but just as important to me: I want my nieces and nephews to love reading.

Reading has always been my escape: my window, my skylight, my rope ladder, my invisibility cloak. Growing up, I found secrets in old clocks and befriended black horses on deserted islands. I explored tesseracts and wardrobes, Welsh mountains and New York art museums. I confronted racism in Mississippi, fear on a mountain, despair from a rope swing. Those adolescent novels offered doors and difference and difficult thinking but I didn’t recognize that at the time: I just knew that I loved reading them, and I wanted to read even more.

​I still love to lose myself in young adult literature. When I sit down with the latest from Angie Thomas or Randy Ribay, I’ve escaped, even if I’m also reading to choose course texts or develop assignments. Out the window, through the gate: I’m far away from the chaos (and the last year has provided entirely too much of that). The end of 2020 found me racing across quads and running through tunnels with Maureen Johnson’s Truly Devious series, enclosed by barbed wire under a Texas sky in Monica Hesse’s The War Outside, and surviving the Siberian wilderness through Kathy Parks’s Notes from My Captivity. Each of these books gave me plenty to think about – who we are, how we survive, why we connect – but they also gave me a chance to leave behind the emails and assignments, the dishes and laundry, the pandemic and politics.

That’s what I want for my nieces and nephews: to lose themselves in a book. Of course, I want them to learn and grow from what they read – as the liberal academic auntie in the family, that’s kind of my thing – but I want them to love reading first. I can’t help it; that’s kind of my thing, too. Perspectives can shift with a compelling character and questions can arise with a complex plot, but I want that to happen through a love of reading, not a dread of preaching.

So, when I gave my then-4th grade niece Drama, it wasn’t because Raina Telgemeier’s book included LGBTQ+ characters. She was struggling with reading – “The words are getting harder and I don’t understand them” – but she liked graphic novels and had just read Smile. When I gave my then-12-year-old nephew March, it wasn’t because of its exploration of the Civil Rights Movement. I had just spoken with Andrew Ayden and Nate Powell at the ELATE luncheon, and I was excited to share this book I’d learned about with my history-loving nephew. And for the record, when I gave Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone to another niece years ago, it wasn’t because I thought she should run away to wizarding school (although I would have been very supportive if she had).

Seeing LGBTQ+ kids as normal middle schoolers, understanding the struggle for racial equality, even figuring out how to deal with the unexpected: These are vitally important things to learn, and I want these kids I love to understand those vitally important things. But I also want my nieces and nephews to look forward to the escape, to open the cover of a book and disappear into the story. And I think the latter can drive the former.
​
If you’re wondering about Aunt Melanie’s Book Club choices this year: Lauren Wolk’s Echo Mountain for my now-12-year-old niece and Ruta Sepetys’s The Fountains of Silence for my now-16-year-old nephew. Why? Because these authors weave compelling, complex stories. Because Wolk’s writing is beautiful Wolf Hollow’s “The year I turned twelve, I learned how to lie” may be one of the best opening lines I’ve ever read]. Because Sepetys’s history is fascinating [having spent a semester in Spain recently, I was enthralled with her exploration of the Civil War]. Because the life on Ellie’s mountain and the view through Daniel’s camera cause us to question truth and loyalty and love. But most importantly, I chose them because I love them – both these stories and these kids.

References
Alsup, J. (2015). A case for teaching literature in the secondary school: Why reading fiction matters in an
age of scientific objectivity and standardization. Routledge.
Bishop, R. S. (1990). Mirrors, windows, and sliding glass doors. Perspectives: Choosing and Using
Books for the Classroom, 6(3), ix–xi.
Bruce, H. E., Brown, S., McCracken, N. M., &Mel Bell-Nolan, M. (2008). Feminist pedagogy is for
everybody: Troubling gender in reading and writing. English Journal, 97(3), 82–89.
Ebarvia, T., Germán, L., Parker, K. N., & Torres, J. (2020). #DisruptTexts. English Journal, 110(1), 100–
102.
Thein, A. H., Beach, R., & Parks, D. (2007). Perspective-taking as transformative practice in teaching
multicultural literature to white students. English Journal, 97(2), 54–60.
Vogt, M. T., Chow, Y. P., Fernandez, J., Grubman, C., & Stacey, D. (2016). Designing a reading
curriculum to teach the concept of empathy to middle level learners. Voices from the Middle, 23(4), 38–45.

Until next week.

Multicultural Education  is a complicated issue. I believe that much of the unrest and contention that we have felt during the last year of COVID, elections, police brutality, social protest and social unrest is a manifestation that we still don't understand each other or the lives we experience. How do the categories of Exceptionality, Age, Class, Ethnicity and Race, Religion, Gender, or Language? Can we even agree of definitions of these concepts?

Until next time.

This marks the fifth year that I have been picking my favorite books that I read during the past year. I like doing this. Some books are so powerful I knew it would be part of the list as soon as I finished, but alas that doesn't always happen. Some books have a slow reveal. By that I mean they just keep staying in my mind throughout the year. Some one will ask me about books and a few books keep coming to my mind and I think of the same book every time. Others are representative of a theme that seems to be frequently a topic of conversation throughout the year. With other books it is full developed character that stays in my mind or it might be a particularly well crafted scene that I keep thinking about. 

I think for the last four years the books on the lists have held up quite well. Take a look and see if you agree.

 http://www.yawednesday.com/blog/bicks-picks-for-2016
http://www.yawednesday.com/blog/bicks-picks-for-2017
http://www.yawednesday.com/blog/bicks-picks-for-2018
http://www.yawednesday.com/blog/bicks-picks-for-2019

I know it has been tough year for all of us. The trials of living  in and around COVID-19 have been a challenge. At times, I have been extremely productive and then there are days that move like molasses. On the positive side, I have ridden my bike over 2,700 miles. Not bad for 65 year old man. When I started the early morning rides the roads of Las Vegas were nearly empty. It was fairly safe and easy for me to transition from my exercise bike to finding my outside pedal legs after several years neglecting my old bikes. Next, I found myself reading even more. This year it is well over 100 young adult novel and quite a few picture books and a return to some of the adult detective fiction series that I have needed to catch up with. 

I think the list of new YA books for 2020 was strong. It was fairly easy for me to find at least ten books that I could enthusiastically support. The difficulty was narrowing it down. So, this year, at the end of the post.  I have some honorable mentions.

I will try not to go on and on about these books. Most of them were selected as Weekend Picks during the course of the year. If you want larger annotation visit the weekend pick page for 2020 here or click on the images below to see what some of the Amazon reviewers have to say.

Again, the list is in no particular order.

Grown by Tiffany D. Jackson

Wow! just wow! Tiffany D. Jackson has not had a miss among her four novels. When I finished Grown. I had to just sit and replay the book in my mind. It is a significant tour de force. Please take a look.

Killing November by Adriana Mather

I had the pleasure to chair a panel a few years ago that included Adriana Mather. Her book at that time was Haunting the Deep. She has stayed on my radar and Killing November was a great find. Maybe the best news is that there is a sequel.

The Bridge by Bill Konigsberg

Bill just gets better and better. The Bridge is stunning. Bill has grapple in fiction with an issue that he openly acknowledges that he has struggled with throughout his life. This novel develops two strong characters through four distinct narratives.

We Are Not Free by Traci Chee

I am sad to say that it took me so long to get to this book. It sat on my shelf for several months. When the long list for the National Book Award was announced I wondered what I was missing. It turns out I was missing a great deal. This is an historical novel with multiple voices; each with a compelling story. It was my favorite among the ten and I was sad to see that it didn't make the final five. I like all of the books in the National Book Award list, but this one struck me especially hard. 

Lovely War by Julie Berry

I have to admit that Julie Berry had me with her nod to the Olympic gods. I also found that the way Berry comments on race and war throughout the novel is both insightful and engaging. It isn't surprising that this books shows up on so many award lists and among readers best of the year selections.

Apple: Skin to the Core by Eric Gansworth

For awhile now I have been an Eric Gansworth fan. If I Ever Get Out of Here rocked me in so many ways. I love the insider view of reservation life and the flawless connections to music. The arrival of Apple Skin to the Core and its multi-genre approach to memoir is a stunning accomplishment.

The Stars Beneath Our Feet by David Barclay Moore

First, I loved the cover. Then, from the beginning, I was drawn by how the author was able to create such empathy for the characters. 

Jack Kerouac is Dead to Me by Gae Polisner

This book deserves more attention. To be frank, it isn't an easy read. More importantly, however, it just might be an essential read. Polisner delivers a punch to the gut. She covers female relationships with boys and men and especially with mothers and daughters. If you haven't read a Polisner novel yet, this is as good a book as any to get an introduction to this fine author.

The Rise and Fall of Charles Lindbergh by Candance Fleming

I find myself reading more and more none fiction. With this book, Fleming provides a first rate discussion of the triumphs and faults of one of America's most notable pioneers of the air. If you don't know anything about Lindbergh, this is a great place to start. If you think you do know about Lindbergh, then you might really want to dive into this book.

I'm Not Dying With You Tonight by Kimberly Jones and Gilly Segal

Few books have influenced my reading, my teaching, and my disposition about society over the last year that I'm Not Dying With You Tonight. I met Gilly and Kimberly at a Source books dinner at NCTE 2019. I was captivated by their energy. I planned to bring them to the UNLV 2020 Summit. Then, COVID-19, George Floyd, and an astonishing contentious election era fraught with racist comments, voter suppression, and a host of fantasy accusations, this book continues to give me hope that we can talk with one another, that we can work together, and that we can make progress.  

Take a look at the honorable mentions. Did I make a mistake or two? Should some of these be in the top ten? Should any of these be replaced with others?

Until next time.

I am sure that I first met Stacy through some of the people from Youngstown State. I know I heard her present at the Kennesaw Children's and YA conference years ago.  She is one of the most clear minded critics of YA I know.  I mean that in the truest sense of the word critic. She is someone who appreciates what YA has to offer and, at the same time, doesn't flinch from applying crtical theories to her readings and analyses of this body of work. When Stacy agrees to write a post, I know i am going to learn something.

Take a look at some of her previous offerings. The titles alone let you know you are in for a treat.

(2015, December, 30). Reflections on Jack Gantos’ Dead End in Norvelt, Love It or List It, and Place Loyalty
(2016, Aug, 3) Engaging Students as Curriculum Designers: Reflections on an Insight Session at the 2016, YSU English Festival
(May 16, 2017) "Let's Play a Game: 5 of..." 
(December 19, 2017)  “…To Keep the Ghosts Away”:  Images of Purgatory in Kate DiCamillo’s Because of Winn-Dixie by Stacy Graber
(Jan. 17, 2019) A Return to the Panopticon in Murphy’s Dumplin’, and Why You Probably Won’t Get Murdered in a Joyce Carol Oates Story if You Are a Size 14 or Over by Stacey Graber
(March 8, 2019) On the Semiotics of Toys and YAL as a Strategy in Defense of the Humanities by Stacy Graber
(Oct 23, 2019) Framing Kafka: YA Texts that Build Background Knowledge Toward Teaching Franz Kafka by Stacy Graber
(Dec 4, 2019) Art in Literature/Literature in Art: Notes on 3 Exceptional Works of YA Graphica by Stacy Graber

Once again her reflections and commentary on McCullough's wonderful novel, Blood Water Paint are spot on.

Thanks Stacy

We have long recognized the value of teaching critical theory to secondary students as indicated by numerous scholars (e.g., Appleman, Connors, Glenn & Ginsberg, Hill, Latrobe & Drury, Soter, etc.).  Yet, in addition to the critical frameworks made available through study, theory also enables a vivid glimpse of thinkers and artists at work (e.g., Barthes, Derrida, Butler, Said, etc.). 
​
This causes me to think about my first acquaintance with theory and a writer whose life and work influenced me deeply by the poetic candor of his prose and his uncompromising interrogation of inequality, particularly as naturalized in the practices and artifacts of visual culture. I am talking about John Berger (1972) and his incomparable collection of essays, Ways of Seeing, which originated as a series of videos produced for the BBC and brought critical considerations of art into public view.

In the context of a blog dedicated to YAL, we could talk about Berger’s (1972) ingenious arrangement of the essays in the collection, the intersessional-pictorial chapters that punctuate and illuminate the Marxist-semiotic critiques. That would speak directly to the multiliteracies commanded by young people who expect to read across text-types and the responsive genre aesthetics that follow suit.  But, I think the true significance of Ways of Seeing for a new generation of readers lies in its deconstructive sensibility, the intent to question assumptions (Berger uses the word “mystifications” (p. 11)) that would otherwise distract from or obscure the reality of oppression.  This complements young people’s impulse to resist dominant ideas about order and hierarchies of power that privilege some and disenfranchise others.
​
Berger (1972) comes immediately to mind when reading Joy McCullough’s (2018) Blood Water Paint, a YA work of historical fiction on the life of Artemisia Gentileschi, a gifted painter of the 17th century.  Meaning, everywhere in the account is evident Berger’s indictment of an artistic tradition complicit in solidifying the secondary status of women as expressed by the phrase: “Men act and women appear” (Berger, 1972, p. 47).  With this analytic tool, Berger (1972) unpacks key European oil paintings including Susanna and the Elders—McCullough’s central allegory for illustrating how just being a woman can occasion violence—to show how classical artists positioned women as objects of the gaze to confirm the power and pleasure of a male spectator/possessor (p. 56).  Moreover, Berger (1972) argues that these optics translate to grotesque social effects when they transform subjects to objects and activate a relentless system of surveillance, dehumanization, and commodification.  

This seems central to McCullough’s (2018) point in Blood Water Paint. Namely, what McCullough (2018) does through her expressionistic prose and synaptic historical shifts or instantaneous transitions between accounts of the biblical Susanna and Judith and Artemisia, is steep us in the sense of what it feels like to be considered an object (i.e., a passive receiver of action deprived of agency), to be hyper-conscious of one’s degraded status, and to be exploited for labor, body, and blood (literally exacted in Artemisia Gentileschi’s rape and the corrupt, subsequent trial).  McCullough’s (2018) book has a shocking effect not only for its unflinching portrayal of physical and psychic violence, but in the realization that its structure is the argument, that Gentileschi’s fate is imbricated in a master narrative of multiform acts of violence against women, which transcend time and culture.
​
The lesson is harsh and necessary, and it begs the question: Who is the audience for this book?  I considered that seriously upon offering McCullough’s (2018) literary account of Gentileschi to the students in my college-level YAL course (many of whom are teacher candidates), for I generally propose new YA titles as templates for doing critical-interdisciplinary work at the secondary level.  I knew I could make a case for its viability as a whole-class reading with secondary students in the same way that I would teach Virginia Woolf (1929/2005) who staked out the identical ideological terrain, also through a character named “Judith” (see the account of “Shakespeare’s Sister,” section 3 from A Room of One’s Own).  Yet, I wondered about the level of background knowledge required for studying McCullough’s complex rumination on the difficulty of being an artist (a theme and chapter title in Permanent Red (Berger, 1985)), biblical history, visual analysis, trauma, and misogyny. 

And then I realized that McCullough (2018) provides the pedagogical map for teaching the text when she contrasts various artists’ renderings of Judith with Gentileschi’s image of the bold, Jewish warrior.  More specifically, through Artemisia’s eyes, McCullough considers technical differences across versions of Judith produced by male artists including Orazio Gentileschi (Artemisia’s father), Allori, and Caravaggio, and concludes that the composition of a work of art is ultimately contingent on the artist’s “truth” (a keyword in the text for one’s lived experience), which is a metonymic expression of a specific set of social relations (pp. 145-146).  Once the question of representation is made manifest (Who is doing the showing/telling and why does this matter?), a critical conversation can be engaged.  

McCullough’s (2018) book very poignantly and personally tracks the kinds of impediments—real social and material circumstances delineated by Woolf (1929/2005)—that would impede and/or obviate the possibility of an artist doing meaningful, creative work: marginalization, ridicule, harassment, incredulity, dispossession, brutality, and (in a more quotidian sense) a simple lack of time to be left alone to complete something artful and whole.
​
I wanted to discuss McCullough’s (2018) book because it is artistically wrought and offers an engaging vehicle for enacting the work of critical pedagogy, and because an important exhibition of Artemisia Gentileschi’s work in London at the National Gallery has been delayed due to the pandemic (Note: Follow the link to an array of materials made available online in anticipation of the event, which could also contextualize a reading of McCullough’s book).  Additionally, related to the legacy of Berger’s visionary criticism, McCullough’s literary portrait responds directly to Berger’s (1985) guiding, analytic question: “Does this work help or encourage [people] to know and claim their social rights?” (p. 15) in that Gentileschi successfully pursues her life and work beyond the limits of her society.

References
Berger, J.  (1972).  Ways of seeing.  British Broadcasting Corporation and Penguin Books.

Berger, J. (1985).  Permanent red.  Writers and Readers Publishing Cooperative.

McCullough, J.  (2018).  Blood water paint.  Penguin Books.

National Gallery, London. (2020). Artemisia.  The National Gallery. 
https://www.nationalgallery.org.uk/exhibitions/artemisia

Woolf, V. (2005).  A room of one’s own (M. Hussey, Ed.). Harcourt. (Original work published in 1929)
 
Biographical Statement: Stacy Graber is an Associate Professor of English at Youngstown State University.  Her areas of interest include critical theory, pedagogy, and popular culture.

Until next week.

We often either underestimate the work that students can do and/or we fail to acknowledge a great deal of the good work they do. Do we do enough to provide them with authentic audiences beyond turning work into the teacher? Do we encourage them to pursue their own curiosity? Do we promote work that leads to inquiry? Do we share examples with our students of the work that other young people are doing throughout the world? In this post, Becki Maldonado provides a few examples of how she tries to go about this work and uses examples of environmental activism.

Of course, the goal is not to have students be like Greta. The goal is for students to find their own groove and to shine by being themselves. Messages can only be impactful when the person sending it is being their authentic selves. No matter how much someone tries to fine tune their message if they are not being themselves and communicating their authentic passion, the receiver of the message will have a barrier appear and think to themselves, “Something is not right here.” When the sender of the message is authentic, the message is more likely to have an impact on the receiver. 
To help students find their own groove, we research and learn about other teens and young adults who have found their groove already. As a starting point, for my students who are interested in climate justice, I give them this list of  youth activists, how old they are, their topic of expertise, and a book that is related to their topic of expertise (Figure 1). Students do not have to do their research project based on any of these activists. They are free to choose other teen activists.

For the project students have to pick one teen activist in their area of interest. There are four sections of the project. 

1. Me as an Activist Spotlight - The students write down the specific topic they are interested in plus five important facts about themselves. (These can also be goals.)
2. Teen Activist Spotlight - The students read articles and the activist’s social media and highlight five important facts about the activist.
3. Collaboration - The students create a plan about how they would collaborate with the teen activist, why it is important that they collaborate, and how collaborating would help solve both important issues.
4. Book Highlight - A student has to pick a book which connects with the issues that are important to both them and the teen activist. Using the 3, 2, 1 technique, they write about three ways the books connect to their issue and the teen activist’s issue, two important facts everyone should know from the book, and one question they still have. (Modifications and accommodations can be made by using picture books.)

Because student’s should always have an audience beyond the teachers, we print them out and put them on poster board or card stock and put them in the hallway. Some public libraries will allow galleries of students’ work. Always try to prearrange public galleries in social hot spots.

Environmental Books for 4th-8th grade

• Cast Away: Poems for Our Time by Naomi Shihab Nye
• Green Nation Revolution: Use Your Future to Change the World by Valentina Gianella and Lucia Ester Marazzi
• We Are the Weather Makers: The History of Climate Change by Sally M Walker and Tim Flannery
• Eyes Wide Open: Going Behind the Environmental Headlines by Paul Fleischman
• You Can Change the World: The Kids’ Guide to a Better Planet by Lucy Bell

Non-Fiction Climate Justice Books for High School and College

• Engage, Connect, Protect: Empowering Diverse Youth as Environmental Leaders by Angelou Ezeilo
• Climate Change From the Streets by Michael Mendez
• Indigenous Environmental Justice edited by Karen Jarratt-Snider and Marianne O. Nielsen
• A Terrible Thing to Waste: Environmental Racism and Its Assault on the American Mind by Harriet A. Washington
• Writers on Earth: New Visions for Our Planet (Young Voices Across the Globe) edited by Elizabeth Kolbert and Write the World
• Going Blue: A Teen Guide to Saving Our Oceans, Lakes, Rivers, and Wetlands by Cathryn Berger Kaye M.A. and Philippe Cousteau
• Here: Poems for the Planet edited by Elizabeth J. Coleman
• No One is Too Small to Make A Difference by Greta Thunberg

Until next week.

Michelle Falter never ceases to amaze me. Every time you turn around you can catch her doing good work and helping others. Just recently, Michelle was awarded the North Carolina English Teachers’ Association’s first-ever Anti-Racist Teaching Award. In part, the recognition noted her work with colleagues.

This summer, Falter co-authored “Becoming Anti-Racist ELA Teachers: Ways to Move Forward” with College of Education Associate Professors Chandra Alston, Ph.D., and Crystal Chen Lee, Ed.D. The white paper outlines five steps and provides practical resources to help secondary English Language Arts (ELA) teachers work toward becoming anti-racist educators.

Dr. Bickmore's YA Wednesday was pleased to be one of the places to host this white paper. You can find information about it here.

In addition, one of Michelle's post in 2017 lead to one of my collaborative efforts as a book editor. She wrote about the Netflix's show, 13 Reasons Why. The response was amazing and we then collaborated on a project that resulted in two books about addressing grief and dying in the English Language Arts Classroom. Unfortunately, these two books remain relevant in our current situation. We hope you check them out.

Michelle's offering this week is perfect. I have been neglecting doing something like this for several months. I was excited that she produced this post. Once you get students reading and thinking about YA literature to they have the resources to find more quality YA offerings? If they don't, Michelle points to several resources that are full of information. Thanks Michelle.

Academic Journals
In the first category are academic journals such as The Alan Review or the International Journal of Young Adult Literature. Out of all the places to look for reviews of books, I put these journals at the top of my list for the fact that books discussed here (and the scholars who write about them)  have gone through either a rigorous editor review or a peer review process. We can know that the opinions expressed in these book reviews have gone through some sort of vetting process. The authors of these pieces are considered experts on the topics they write about. ​

The downside of these websites is that the reviews are fairly short and don’t provide in-depth information. Additionally, they are not really geared towards how to teach the texts or the potential for teaching the texts. Instead, the reviews focus on perceived engagement and literary merit. These reviews are widely deemed as reputable.Often, though, when I need a quick and reliable review, I will head to these resources. Other websites will often quote from these reviews as a way to entice readers to buy the books. ​

Until next week.

Emily Sauls Pendergrass is back as a guest contributor. Today, she has a timely reminder that as a collection of human beings we have tried to establish standards of behavior. We have proclaimed that we all deserve to be tried with dignity. That all of us have basic Human Rights. How are we doing? Do we do enough to watch out for one another? Do we follow leaders who work to establish laws and practices that ensure the human rights of all of us?

​This was a wonderful reminder. It had been awhile since I have paused and contemplate the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. How are we doing? How are you doing? Thanks Emily.

Books can help us remember our community, show us civil obligation, and lead us to advocacy. In December, people around the globe formally celebrate Human Rights and the adoption of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR) from the United Nations.  The UDHR is a revolutionary statement that “proclaims the inalienable rights which everyone is entitled to as a human being - regardless of race, colour, religion, sex, language, political or other opinion, national or social origin, property, birth or other status.” Standing up for human rights is a call for all of us to engage in, explore deeply, and enact change. How do we do this with the context of YA lit and reading with students?

Through connecting with what they are familiar with and exploring new issues, we sought to understand what Human Rights Violations are and what we can do about them. While reading, students track the human rights violations of 1 or more characters. They start to work on defining the complex issues at hand and record any questions that arise. As they near the end of the book, they choose 1-2 violations they want to learn more about. As they deeply explore their choices, they read to find out what life is like now in post-Taliban rule Afghanistan, they search for other places/countries that have similar experiences, they compare and contrast those experiences, trying to synthesize across the concern. 

Until next week.

This year's ALAN workshop was unique in that we all had to meet virtually. Nevertheless, it was a fantastic experience. Take a quick look at a few of the moments that some of the participants felt were worth remembering.

Steve Bickmore
University of Nevada, Las Vegas

I felt that the 2020 ALAN Workshop was fantastic success. It went off without a hitch. I am sure that Ricki felt some pressure and was aware of any tiny glitch as the workshop progressed. From my point of view it was wonderful. Once again, I think there were so many great moments. To just pick one, I have to select Eric Gansworth's keynote. This author is amazing and his ability to share stories from his own childhood on the reservation is amazing. If Eric is not an author you have read yet, then it is time to remedy that as soon as possible. Pick up Apple Skin to the Core or If I Ever Get Out of Here.

Until next time.

I first met Fawn when I was interviewing at UNLV. She was a new graduate student who had done some adjunct work for the department I would eventually be joining. She was an excellent teacher and an important asset to our undergraduate English Education program. Before too long we were treating her as a valued colleague. She did such a good job, that secretly, I think that many of us hoped she would stay around. Reason, however, prevailed and we pushed her to finish. 

I want to make it clear that I have sat in on several excellent doctoral defenses (not including mine) that were informative celebrations. Fawn's defense was a completely different experience.  Fawn's presentation not only covered the project of her research, it began to critique her own product. She had clearly spent the two weeks since she had turned the finished work over to the committee examining the limitations of her research. In most cases she had accurately anticipated our question--not concerns mind you--just ideas we wanted to discuss. The defense was an enlightening experience. I am not at all surprised that Fawn found and excellent job. I am also not surprised that teachers in her area would seek her to help with collaborative projects. 

This year, the word “unprecedented” has been thoroughly worn out. So much so that the Oxford English Dictionary described 2020 “as a year which cannot be neatly accommodated in a single word.” This. This, the year of a global pandemic, emergency remote instruction, #BLM, and a divisive presidential election. This, the year of 8 minutes, 46 seconds that came to symbolize a long, long history of systemic violence against Black and brown bodies. All of this was the backdrop of a shared book club reading with 6th, 7th, and 8th graders of Jewell Parker Rhodes’ Ghost Boys. Books like this one create the space for us to process moments like those of 2020 and dialogic interactions plant the seeds for change.

Ghost Boys is the story of Jerome, a young black boy with a toy gun who is shot and killed by a police officer who “feared for his life.” But that is both the beginning and the continuation of a story that is sadly all too familiar. Jerome is not able to move on from this world and is visited by Emmet Till and other ghost boys– Black boys who died too young because of racial violence. A heartbreaking distortion of Peter Pan, which is a motif used throughout the book of children robbed of the chance to grow up. Like the other ghost boys, Jerome must bear witness: “Everyone needs their story heard. Felt. We honor each other. Connect across time,” Emmet tells Jerome. And who is the only person that can see Jerome? Communicate with him? The officer’s daughter, Sarah. Why? Because as Rhodes tells us, “Jerome says, ‘Only the living can make the world better.’” ​

I'm a bad person. 
And I refused to believe that 
I'm happy. 
I realize this may be a shock, but
I had a good life is a lie
people of color are hated. 
In 30 years, I will tell my children that 
I have my priorities straight because 
race is more important than personality. 
And I tell you this, 
once upon a time, 
we were created equal, 
but this will not be true in my era. 
People of color are discriminated against. 
Experts tell me, people are treated the same. 
I do not conclude that everyone’s born the same, 
It will be evident that
In the future, everyone will be treated differently. 
No longer can it be said that we're all just human. 
It is foolish to presume that we are all the same. 
And all of this will continue
unless we reverse it.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
We are all the same. 
We are just humans. 
No longer can it be said that 
everyone will be treated differently. 
In the future, 
everyone's going to have the same advantages 
and not conclude that people are treated the same. 
And experts tell me, 
people of color are discriminated against. 
But this will not be true in my era. 
We were created equal once upon a time. 
And I tell you this, 
personality is more important than race. 
I have my priorities straight 
because in 30 years 
I will tell my children that people of color are heeded. 
It is why I had a good life. 
I realize this may not be a shock, but
I'm happy. 
And I refuse to believe that 
I'm a bad person.

Until next time.

It is coming! If you are connected to NCTE, ALAN, or the English Education communities you have probably heard a few rumors about the ALAN Workshop. The current President, Ricki Ginsberg, has done a wonderful job putting together a workshop during challenging times. She has coordinated with publishers, NCTE, authors, and the ALAN board to piece together a wonderful workshop. Clearly, it will be in an online format this year. Fight through the Zoom exhaustion and join the fun.

Like many of you, I have been extremely busy trying to figure out Zoom, Google Meets, WebEx and all of the ins and outs of virtual teaching. I have registered for NCTE and the ALAN workshop, but it is finally becoming real as the books start to arrive. Attendees who registered and paid for a shipment of books find that the books really do show up.  They have started to flood Facebook and Twitter with pictures of their books in an homage to past workshop. In the past, people arrive at the hall early Monday morning to pick up their book boxes and many open the boxes and set them on their tables.

Of course, this year we will all be attending from our offices, kitchens, living rooms, or carved out spaces we have been using as our offices. My box arrived on Monday and I dutifully open the box and took a picture.

I have been trying to capture all many of the images that have been shared on Facebook. I have placed them below in a slideshow. Do you see your display? If I missed yours let me know.

The program will be outstanding. Some of the featured speakers include Angie Thomas (Breakfast Speaker), Samira Ahmed (Keynote), and Eric Gansworth (keynote). If you are familiar with these authors you are well aware of what they have to offer. If not, get ready to add a host of books to your "to be read" list.

Browse the program. Is one of your favorite authors going to be presenting?  I hope so.  Schedule the time so you don't miss the presentation. 

One of the most important parts of the ALAN Workshop is the chance to hear from authors that you have never heard of before. At a workshop I found  Padma Venkatraman (Climbing the Stairs), Bonnie-Sue Hitchcock (The Smell of Other People's Houses), Chris Lynch (Inexcuseable), Jeff Zetner (The Serpent King), Adriana Mather (Haunting the Deep), Varian Johnson (The Parker Inheritance), Kristin Bartley Lenz (The Art of Holding on and Letting Go) and so many more. 

Do yourself a favor and listen to people who are entirely new to you. I promise, you will find new friends.

Until next week.