Picturing History

It’s been my observation that children’s nonfiction has improved about 600% in the last 20–30 years. These three books help to prove my point, if not my math.

Brave Girl: Clara and the Shirtwaist Makers’ Strike of 1909 by Michelle Markel, illustrated by Melissa Sweet

How do you teach children about labor history? If they remember anything about Labor Day, it is that it’s a day off. Yet the day actually celebrates people like Clara Lemlich, a young Jewish factory worker in the early 1900s.

At first the book seems to be a typical tale about an immigrant family. But it isn’t. Here’s how Markel begins:

A steamship pulls into the harbor, carrying hundreds of immigrants—and a surprise for New York City. [page turn] The surprise is dirt poor, just five feet tall, and hardly speaks a word of English. Her name is Clara Lemlich. This girl’s got grit, and she’s going to prove it. Look out, New York!

Clara’s father can’t find work, but she does, as a worker in the garment industry. Markel does a good job showing us how hard the girls were expected to work. And we get things like this: “There are two filthy toilets, one sink, and three towels for three hundred girls to share.”

The illustrator also does a good job with this material. After scenes of Clara’s family arriving in New York, we come to a page looking down at the garment workers from the top: rows and rows of girls sitting at sewing machines sewing, looking more like a geometric pattern than people. Sweet works mostly in blues and yellows with touches of red. She softens her palette to subtly invoke the sepia look of old photographs. Sweet uses mixed media for her backgrounds on some pages: fabric with stitches and bias tape.

We follow Clara as she learns the rules of working in the garment industry: The girls lose half a day’s pay for being a few minutes late, can be fired for a pricking their fingers and getting blood on the fabric twice, and are locked into the factory from morning to night.

Clara wants to protest the terrible working conditions, especially after male union workers encourage her. She urges the other girls to strike, and finally they do. Clara is beaten, and she is arrested 17 times, but she keeps going.

The book just gets better from there. This is a story of power from the people who together make the wheels of society turn. It is all the more effective because it’s about a young immigrant girl who refuses to back down. Well told, well illustrated—Brave Girl is a story kids really should hear. In a day when unions are sometimes thought of as a problem, it’s good to be reminded that things like an 8-hour day and a five-day work week came about because of the efforts of ordinary people like Clara Lemlich.

Note: An author’s note gives additional information about the garment industry and labor strikes in other cities.

Brick by Brick by Charles R. Smith Jr., illustrated by Floyd Cooper

Did you know that some of the workers who built the first White House were slaves? This book is their story. The slaves were rented out by their masters for the project.

Black hands,

white hands,

free hands,

slave hands.

Slave hands dig,

saw,

and break stone,

laying the foundation

for the president’s house.

Rented as property,

slave hands labor

as diggers of stone,

sawyers,

and bricklayers.

Smith describes these events poetically, in simple, strong language like the sound of hammers striking stone. The lines rhyme occasionally for emphasis, but not throughout:

Slave hands saw

twelve hours a day,

but slave owners take

slave hands’ pay.

Floyd Cooper’s illustrations are done mostly in shades of brown, with a blue sky every so often that makes me think of hope. Sometimes the faces in children’s book illustration are simple or cute, but not in Brick by Brick. Cooper depicts these faces, mostly slaves but a few masters, with a kind of softened realism and with great feeling and character. I’m not sure how the illustrations were done—perhaps with watercolor washes and then colored pencil on textured paper. This is a very lovely book, and one filled with understated yet powerful emotions.

We read that in time, the slaves learned skills that qualified them to be paid one shilling a day. They saved the money towards buying their freedom:

Slave hands count shillings

with worn fingertips

and purchase freedom

earned brick by brick.

By the time you reach the last page, you know something important: The president’s home is beautiful, but it is not as beautiful as the promise of freedom.

Note: Brick by Brick includes an author’s note that explains why slaves were used to build the first White House. Also, the illustration on the left shows the construction project from a different perspective. It is not from the book.

Nelson Mandela, words and pictures by Kadir Nelson

Right now the talk is all about Nelson’s recently released I Have a Dream, a wonderful book about Martin Luther King, Jr.’s famous speech. But I’m holding an ARC of his next picture book in my hands: Nelson Mandela. The front cover is simply a portrait of Mandela, no title. You can find the title on the back cover.

Where I Have a Dream captures a moment in time, Nelson Mandela is very much a biography. Most pages have about a paragraph of text, though a few have more. The book would make a good read-aloud for about 3rd-5th graders.

We begin with a boy named Rolihlahla. Already he is being changed by the world around him:

Rolihlahla played barefooted on the grassy hills of Qunu. He fought boys with sticks and shot birds with slingshots. The smartest Madiba child of thirteen, he was the only one chosen for school. His new teacher would not say his Xhosa name. She called him Nelson instead.

The first spread is done almost entirely in silhouette, with the boys and the hill they are playing on shown in black. The sun has just barely risen over the hill behind them, and a small slice of green plain and blue mountain is seen off to the left. A few houses sit on the plain. It’s a stunning image, and something of a departure from Kadir’s expected human figures. The wide-angle painting makes a poignant introduction to the next spread, where we read that 9-year-old Nelson is being sent miles away to live with a powerful chief after his father’s death. The image is a close-up of two people in profile, with Nelson’s mother on the left and a young Nelson on the right. She holds his unhappy face, staring into his eyes.

In his new life, Nelson listens to stories told by the elders of old Africa. We read that he grew up and attended school in Johannesburg, “where Africans were poor and powerless.” Nelson became a lawyer and began to help his people.

The story continues, showing the experience of apartheid and Nelson’s activism and long imprisonment. “His children grew up. Relatives passed away. South Africa began to fall apart… Nelson snuck a message to the people: ‘I will return.’”

And he did return. At last Nelson was free. Apartheid ended, and Nelson Mandela became the first black president of South Africa.

Kadir Nelson’s storytelling is clear and powerful. His illustrations capture the souls of his subjects, especially Nelson Mandela. Many of the pages in the book are quite dark in tone, but the last two spreads are bright with color and sunshine, lifting like a song. A striking book that you can read and treasure.

An author’s note gives additional information about Mandela and apartheid in South Africa.

It’s been said that children in our day lack real heroes, reduced to looking up to pouting pop stars, millionaire athletes, and fictional superheroes. Give them these three books and others like them. Give them heroes.

Note: Thanks to HarperCollins for sending me review copies. Brick by Brick will be out in December. Nelson Mandela and Brave Girl will be out in January.

Black History Month Medley

Lots of bits and pieces today, all in honor of Black History Month. First, two new picture books from HarperCollins:

Freedom's a-Callin Me by Ntozake Shange, illustrated by Rod Brown

Shange is well known as a poet and author, perhaps most notably for For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide/When the Rainbow Is Enuf. She has written other children's books, We Troubled the Waters—illustrated by Rod Brown—and Coretta Scott and Ellington Was Not a Street, illustrated by Kadir Nelson.

This new book is a collection of poems about the African American slave experience, with the focus on failed and successful efforts to escape to freedom. There is a loose narrative arc, beginning with a poem about a young man who tries to escape. In the second we see he has been caught and is being whipped for it. "Never again?" Hardly. Again he tries, and he seems to get farther this time. The poems aren't all about the same young man, though. We get a poem about Sojourner Truth and a group of slaves who are escaping, one about a slave tracker, and another about a man who is caught while the rest of his group gets away. The swamp, an abolitionist, a secret hiding place, and more make their appearances in Shange's book. The poems are strong of voice and spirit. They are probably too strong in theme for the younger crowd, but their very potency makes them a valuable, moving read for children perhaps 8 or 9 and up. Here's a sample from "Time Tuh Go," in which a wife asks her husband not to go and he replies:

but listen to me
ah jus' can't take it no more
ah am not some animal to be worked from dawn to dusk
livin on the entrails of hogs & such
ah am a livin bein' & ah got to be free
or ah am goin to kill somebody real soon
somebody white who don't even see me
ah don't want to be a killer
ah jus' want to be a free man

When Grandmama Sings by Margaree King Mitchell, illustrated by James E. Ransome

Belle's Grandmama has an amazing voice, and when she gets a chance to tour the South with a swing jazz band, she takes Belle along. The story begins:

My Grandmama Ivory Belle Coles loved to sing. She sang in the church choir. She sang while she cooked and cleaned and worked in the garden. Whenever she wasn't singing, she was humming.

We lived in Pecan Flats, Mississippi. The summer I was eight, Grandmama would come by the house and listen to me read to my sister, Carrie. Grandmama couldn't read herself. But she always had a song to sing.

When Grandmama goes on tour and brings Belle, Belle experiences segregation and discrimination firsthand in the form of whites-only hotels and restaurants, a club manager who refuses to pay Grandmama and the band, and police who pull the group over and dump all of their things on the side of the road just because. Without getting everyone in trouble, Grandmama stands up for what's right as best she can. The book ends with a marvelous concert at the band's last stop, and even though the white people sit on the main floor and the black people sit in the balcony, everyone there loves the same music. When Grandmama Sings doesn't shy away from the hard realities of the era, but it shows how Grandmama perseveres and sets an example of hope for her granddaughter. Belle's voice and the simple narrative keep the book from being preachy, but the story carries a great message just the same.


Next, an homage to one of my favorite poets, Langston Hughes. Did you know it was his birthday a few weeks ago, on February 1? Here's a nice bit of biography from Wiki (see footnotes for original sources):

While in grammar school in Lincoln, Hughes was elected class poet. Hughes stated that in retrospect he thought it was because of the stereotype that African Americans have rhythm.[12] "I was a victim of a stereotype. There were only two of us Negro kids in the whole class and our English teacher was always stressing the importance of rhythm in poetry. Well, everyone knows, except us, that all Negroes have rhythm, so they elected me as class poet."[13] During high school in Cleveland, Ohio, he wrote for the school newspaper, edited the yearbook, and began to write his first short stories, poetry, and dramatic plays. His first piece of jazz poetry, "When Sue Wears Red", was written while he was in high school. It was during this time that he discovered his love of books.

Langston wrote one of his most famous poems at the age of 17 as a he rode a train over the Mississippi. Here is how "The Negro Speaks of Rivers" begins:

I've known rivers:
I've known rivers ancient as the world and older than the flow of human blood in human veins.

My soul has grown deep like the rivers.

Langston attended Columbia University for a year or so, but left because of prejudice and his focus on Harlem. He was part of the Harlem Renaissance and a key inventor of jazz poetry. (See photo of Ella Fitzgerald and Dizzy Gillespie, below left.) He also wrote short stories, plays, and numerous essays. Langston began basing his poetry more and more on the rhythms of the street. He explains:

Seventh Street in Washington was the long, old, dirty street where ordinary Negroes hang out. On Seventh Street they played the blues, ate watermelon, shot pool, told tall tales, and looked at the Dome of the Capitol and laughed out loud. I listened to their blues. And I went to their churches and heard the tambourines play and the little tinkling bells of the triangle adorn the gay shouting that sent sisters dancing down the aisle for joy. I tried to write poems like the songs they sang on South Street, ...songs that had the pulse beat of the people who keep going. Like the waves of a sea coming one after another, so is the undertow of black music with its rhythm that never betrays you, its strength like the beat of a human heart, its humor, and its living power. [quoted in the Introduction to Poetry for Young People: Langston Hughes, ed. David Roessel and Arnold Rampersad, Sterling 2006.]

You might call Langston Hughes the father of the "black is beautiful" movement. His own father was ashamed of his race, but Langston worked long and hard to express his love and honor for his people, as in the poem "My People":

The night is beautiful,
So the faces of my people.

The stars are beautiful,
So the eyes of my people.

Beautiful, also, is the sun.
Beautiful, also, are the souls of my people.

Langston was a wise and diligent dreamer, and some of his best poems are about dreams. One that is dear to my heart is titled simply "Dreams":

Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.

Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow.

Certain poems by Langston Hughes are often anthologized, of course. Here is one you may not have seen, "Homesick Blues":

De railroad bridge's
A sad song in de air.
De railroad bridge's
A sad song in de air.
Ever time de trains pass
I wants to go somewhere.

I went down to de station.
Ma heart was in ma mouth.
Went down to de station.
Heart was in ma mouth.
Lookin' for a box car
To roll me to de South.

Homesick blues, Lawd,
'S a terrible thing to have.
Homesick blues is
A terrible thing to have.
To keep from cryin'
I opens ma mouth an' laughs.

I highly recommend two books about Langston Hughes and his poems: the poet's own The Dream Keeper and Other Poems, illustrated by Brian Pinkney (Alfred A. Knopf, 2007) and Poetry for Young People: Langston Hughes, referenced above. You can read an account of the writing of "The Negro Speaks of Rivers" in a picture book, Langston's Train Ride, by Robert Burleigh, illustrated by Leonard Jenkins (Orchard, 2004). Or look for a lovely rendering of the poem itself, The Negro Speaks of Rivers, illustrated by E.B. Lewis (Hyperion, 2009).

Now, here's a nice link to some good books for kids about African American history and achievements. You'll notice that one is a book of poems for children by Langston Hughes, The Sweet and Sour Animal Book.


Finally, a shout-out to some of my favorite black illustrators, whether elder statesmen or up-and-comers:

Ashley Bryan—2012 winner of the Coretta Scott King/Virginia Hamilton Lifetime Achievement Award; among his many wonderful books are three Coretta Scott King winners: Beat the Story Drum, Pum-Pum (1981); Beautiful Blackbird (2004); and Let It Shine: Three Favorite Spirituals (2008). He has won numerous Coretta Scoot King honor awards, as well. One of my own favorites is Ashley Bryan's ABC of African American Poetry. Bryan won the 2009 Laura Ingalls Wilder Medal for his contributions to children's literature. The illustrator uses bold, bright colors with strong lines and shapes.

R. Gregory Christie—Christie won Coretta Scott King honor awards for his illustrations for The Palm of My Heart: Poetry by African American Children (1997), Only Passing Through: The Story of Sojourner Truth (2001), and Brothers in Hope: The Story of the Lost Boys of Sudan (2006). My own favorite book he illustrated is Yesterday I Had the Blues by Jeron Ashford Frame (2008). Christie's style varies by the project, but his baseline voice as an illustrator merges flat shapes and blocks of color with more realistic facial expressions and other details. It's a little different, but it works. (Here's a trailer for his latest, It Jes' Happened: When Bill Traylor Started to Draw by Don Tate, due out in April.)

Bryan Collier—This artist is the Caldecott Honor and Coretta Scott King illustration winner for Dave the Potter: Artist, Poet, Slave (2011); Coretta Scott King winner and Caldecott honor for Rosa (2006), and Coretta Scott King winner for Uptown (2001). He has won Coretta Scott King honors for other books, too, including one about Langston Hughes, Visiting Langston (2005). Collier's work has a rich, smooth realism, often with a dark palette.

Leo and Diane Dillon—He's black, she's white, and this husband-and-wife team have been winning illustration awards throughout a 40-year career, including back-to-back Caldecott wins in 1977 and 1978 for Ashanti to Zulu: African Traditions and Why Mosquitoes Buzz in People's Ears, respectively. They've done a slew of book jackets in addition to their picture books. The Dillons won the 1997 Grand Masters Award for their body of work from Spectrum for being Best In Contemporary Fantastic Art, a Virginia Hamilton award for their body of work in children's literature in 2002, and a World Fantasy Convention Lifetime Achievement Award in 2008. They've actually won more body-of-work awards, but you get the picture: people are rightfully impressed! One of my favorite books from the Dillons is To Everything There Is a Season (1997), in which they use art styles from various countries and historical periods to illustrate the famous verses from Ecclesiastes in the Bible. I'm partial to a story called Wind Child, too. But there are just so many to choose from! Though the Dillons do experiment, you can usually recognize their distinctive style, which has a sort of airbrushed look to it. Their latest is Never Forgotten by Patricia C. McKissack.

Kadir Nelson—A talented author/illustrator, Nelson won the Coretta Scott King Award this year for writing for Heart and Soul: The Story of America and African Americans, and he won an Honor for the book's illustrations. As an illustrator, he won Caldecott honor awards in 2008 for Henry's Freedom Box and in 2007 for Moses: When Harriet Tubman Led Her People to Freedom; the latter book garnered Nelson a Coretta Scott King win. He has won further King awards and honors in both writing and illustration, e.g., for We Are the Ship: The Story of Negro League Baseball. Nelson's Moses is a wonderfully tender and inspiring book about Harriet Tubman. The illustrator's work is realistic, though slightly stylized. He tends to work with warm tones.

Jerry Pinkney—This 2011 Caldecott winner for The Lion and the Mouse had previously won five Caldecott honor awards and five Coretta Scott King awards, among other honors. Pinkney won a Virginia Hamilton lifetime achievement award in 2000 for his long, highly regarded career as a watercolor genius.

Brian Pinkney—Brian is Jerry Pinkney's son, and he specializes in scratchboard art; he won a Caldecott honor and a Coretta Scott King honor in 1996 for The Faithful Friend, as well as a Coretta Scott King honor award in 1993 for Sukey and the Mermaid and in 1999 for Duke Ellington: The Piano Prince and His Orchestra. The latter won a Caldecott honor award, too. Brian won the Coretta Scott King Award for illustration in 2000 for In the Time of the Drums.

At my day job, I am currently working on curriculum materials for a South Carolina state history book for eighth graders, and I included instructional activities relating to slavery. E.g., I'm having the kids read Julius Lester's To Be a Slave. I've also included an activity featuring Hill and Collier's book, Dave the Potter. I'm heading into the twentieth century soon, so we'll see what that brings. I may not be able to cover the Harlem Renaissance in a South Carolina book, but that won't stop me from thinking about Langston Hughes' wonderful voice, let alone about the artwork and writing in today's children's books that celebrates African American history and present-day experience.

Some people may find Black History Month a little scripted, but I think of all those kids of many races who, if they know nothing else, now understand a few things about Harriet Tubman, Rosa Parks, and Martin Luther King. And maybe even about George Washington Carver, Marion Anderson, Thurgood Marshall, Malcolm X, Maya Angelou, General Colin Powell, Toni Morrison, President Barack Obama—and always, please, Langston Hughes.

Picture Books to Sing

Two of the books I managed to rescue from my parents when they moved and were clearing out their library are actually songs: The Fox Went Out on a Chilly Night, an old song illustrated by Peter Spier, and One Wide River to Cross, adapted by Barbara Emberley and illustrated by Ed Emberley. Coincidentally enough, they are both Caldecott Honor books—Spier's in 1962 and Emberley's in 1967. I don't think my mother bothered tracking the award winners particularly, but she always had good taste in children's books.

Ed Emberley has had a long and successful career in children's book illustration, though his name may not be as familiar to you as some others. I was surprised to realize that he had won that Caldecott Honor long ago for his wood-cut illustrations of the Noah story in song, since I know him best as the author/illustrator of Go Away Big, Green Monster! It turns out Emberley is the author of a number of books about drawing for children. What's more, he won the Caldecott Medal in 1968 for Drummer Hoff, which his wife Barbara adapted, as well.

We sang a lot in my family as I was growing up. I was the second of seven children. My mother and two of my sisters played the piano, so we would gather around the piano and sing music from Broadway musicals like Fiddler on the Roof and You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown. Another favorite was The Fireside Book of Folksongs—we especially loved a rowdy tune called "Drill, Ye Terriers, Drill" and spirituals like "Nobody Knows the Trouble I've Seen" and "Oh Won't You Sit Down?" We sang on car trips, too, throwing in camp songs and songs we had learned in church. To this day, I like vocal music better than instrumental music. A few years ago, I went out of my way to track down a copy of The Fireside Book of Folksongs. It was only then that I noticed the collection's illustrators were Caldecott winners Alice and Martin Provenson.

Naturally, when I began teaching elementary school, my students and I sang together—what we lacked in grace, we made up for with enthusiasm. I soon learned that the big name in CDs for kindergarten and first grade is Greg and Steve, but I was still hooked on folksongs. A friend of mine worked in the office of the Smithsonian that preserves folk music, and she gave me a CD of children's songs called Smithsonian Folkways Children's Music Collection, basically her department's "Greatest Hits" from the archives. Woody Guthrie, Ella Jenkins, Pete Seeger, Lead Belly, and Langston Hughes are the best known of the featured artists. Okay, so Langston Hughes doesn't sing, but he does read a couple of his poems. (The Smithsonian has quite a music catalog; look it up!)

The year I taught third grade, my students' favorite CD was Red Grammer's Sing Along Songs, especially "Erie Canal" (we acted out the bridge lowering), "Day-O," and "Wimoweh." In fact, the next year they used to stop by after school and ask to play that CD and sing to it again. They leaped about the room while they were at it.

This spring I ordered a bunch of books and supplemental materials for the Resource Room of my current school. Our school works with students who are homebound for medical reasons, and a number of them are severely handicapped. Because the children can't do much, their teachers put on quite a show, using music and read-alouds more than most teachers do. I ordered a number of board books for this group that came with CDs or could be sung aloud by the teacher. What I discovered is that the authors and illustrators who dominate that particular slice of children's literature right now are Mary Ann Hoberman, who collaborated with Nadine Bernard Westcott on books such as The Eensy-Weensy Spider and Mary Had a Little Lamb; Westcott on her own, perhaps most happily on Peanut Butter and Jelly: A Play Rhyme; performer Raffi, with books like Down by the Bay, also illustrated by Nadine Bernard Westcott, and The Wheels on the Bus; as well as Izi Trapani, whose numerous titles include I'm a Little Teapot and Row, Row, Row Your Boat.

Yet there is something of a distinction between these books and the picture books for slightly older students that feature singable texts. The picture books may be based on less well-known songs, or at least songs less often sung by the pre-school set. One such book in my collection is another Woodie Guthrie number, Bling Blang. You can get the music on another Smithsonian Folkways collection, Guthrie's Songs to Grow on for Mother and Child. Bling Blang is illustrated by Vladimir Radunsky, who created a black child and a white child to star in the book; he went on to include actual art from children, who, as you know, love to draw houses. Bling Blang is about building a great house for a beloved child. The marvelous onomatopoeic chorus goes: "Bling blang, hammer with my hammer/Zing-o zang-o, cutting with my saw." Apparently Woodie Guthrie and his kids used to build odd projects in their backyard.

Bling Blang stands alone, but some songs have repeatedly been made into children's books. I'm guessing that if you counted them up, "The Wheels on the Bus," "The Eensy-Weensy Spider," and "There Was an Old Lady Who Swallowed a Fly" would win for most frequent publication, but the latter undoubtedly takes first prize if you include the many variations. A quick look on Amazon has the old lady swallowing a shell, a pie, a trout, a bat, a bell, the sea, a chick, and Fly Guy (an easy reader character). Plus we find regional fare like There Was a Coyote Who Swallowed a Flea and There Was an Old Texan Who Swallowed a Fly, not to mention a hungry educator, I Know an Old Teacher.

Yet none of these can dent my loyalty to the Simms Taback version, which won a Caldecott Honor in 1998. The illustrations are nuts, the die-cut holes are genius, and then you get the bonus of the secondary characters making odd little rhyming comments around the page edges at key points. My first graders requested that one on a regular basis; in fact, since they were learning English as a Second Language, I started out by singing and then having them fill in the missing words of the cumulative story. I know some parents find the plot a little upsetting, especially the kicker of an ending, but kids have the humor and good sense to know that it's all a big joke. (For a different read-aloud on the topic of cumulative swallowing, you can't beat My Little Sister Ate One Hare by Bill Grossman and Kevin Hawkes, which doubles as a counting book.)

There have been just a few versions of another sing-along book I recommend, Fiddle-I-Fee by Will Hillenbrand; the best-known is probably Paul Galdone's Cat Goes Fiddle-I-Fee, and Diane Stanley illustrated one, as well. I personally like Hillenbrand's narrative approach and cheerily unsentimental artwork, along with his rendering of the animal sounds, which are the best part about this song and guaranteed child-pleasers.

A more openly sentimental picture book version of a song is Morning Has Broken by Eleanor Farjeon, illustrated by Tim Ladwig. You've probably heard the song performed by Cat Stevens, but perhaps you didn't know that the words were a poem by a wonderful children's book writer. (In the days before fairy tale retellings became popular, Farjeon wrote The Little Glass Slipper and The Silver Curlew, novelizations of "Cinderella" and "Rumpelstiltskin" that are more readable and funny than most of the retellings in the current crop.) Ladwig's illustrations are gentle and a little too sweet for my taste, but the words are wonderful, especially if you are on the religious side. Like many of the books listed here, this book provides the "sheet music" for the song.

One picture book I highly recommend has a rap-style chant rather than a melody, and that's Shake Dem Halloween Bones by W. Nikola-Lisa and Mike Reed. The author and illustrator create a collection of fairy tale characters coming together to dance on Halloween Night, and it's another title that my students used to want to hear—and chant with me—over and over. The very strong beat will carry you along!

Which brings me to the two recently published picture book songs that started me thinking about all this: All God's Critters by Bill Staines and Kadir Nelson and Tweedle Dee Dee by Charlotte Voakes. I'll confess I didn't find Tweedle Dee Dee particularly compelling. Voakes's illustration style, which I thought was perfect for Elsie Piddock Skips in Her Sleep (another Eleanor Farjeon offering!), is extra loose here, and the song lacks a strong storyline. The illustrator hits her stride with the birds' nest, though, and the rest of the book is more appealing.

Some songs give artists more to play with, and that's certainly the case with All God's Critters, with its message of inclusion and contribution. Even though the "story" is simply a performance by a series of animals, Kadir Nelson gets to spotlight each animal, imbuing them with colorful personalities. If you've seen his work in books about African American history and culture (e.g, Henry's Freedom Box by Ellen Levine and We Are the Ship by Nelson himself), you may be surprised by his rambunctious departure here. It just goes to show that a talented illustrator has range! In this case, he also has fun. The double-spread grand finale is especially over-the-top as our animal cast hams it up, turning the volume full blast.

Now, I was unfamiliar with both of these melodies, so I played them on my recorder to get a feel for them. "Tweedle Dee Dee" is nice, but not very memorable. "All God's Critters" is a little more catchy, but still nothing like "Eerie Canal" or "The Fox Went Out on a Chilly Night."

The question raised by all of the books in this post is whether they are still as effective if they are simply read rather than sung. I'm guessing the rhythm and a reader's use of expression will make most of them solid read-alouds even if they aren't used as sing-alouds, but I can't emphasize enough how much kids LIKE singing and being sung to.

So, while I sort of understand teachers who can't carry a tune and just treat these texts as poems, I am appalled by teachers who play a CD and have their students sing without singing themselves. Of course, a lot of teachers are perfectly happy to belt out songs with their students as long as there aren't any other adults in the room, and the same thing is true for many parents at bedtime. So what do you do if you can't read music? Then it helps to have a CD in order to learn the tune, but I suggest you resist the urge to listen silently to words and melodies that are just begging to be sung! My family may sound musically talented to you, but none of us were outstanding vocalists. More than anything, we sang for the sheer joy of it. That experience was a gift from my parents that I still treasure. There's a reason I keep those ratty old copies of The Fox Went Out on a Chilly Night and One Wide River to Cross. Just the sight of them gets me singing my way around the house.