Greetings from Missouri, where I'm doing two days of school visits in North Kansas City schools. I'm at Ravenwood Elementary right now. The second graders here just finished reading my picture book Ziggy's Blue Ribbon Day. In that book, athletically challenged Ziggy is dreading track-and-field day. For each event the children are awarded ribbons, with blue ribbons as best, then red, then gold, and then silver - which Ziggy says isn't really silver, but a "dull, dismal gray." Ziggy knows that his day will bring nothing but a slew of silvers. But when Ziggy uses his drawing talent to decorate his ribbon-holding envelope (if it's going to have gray and gloomy contents on the inside, it might as well be bright and cheering on the outside), his classmates start trading him their blue ribbons in exchange for his decorating their envelopes as well. So Ziggy ends up having an unexpected haul of blue ribbons, after all.
The media specialist at Ravenwood had the second graders each fill out "blue ribbons" of their own, listing their own special talent. I'm looking at them as I type this:
Baseball
Cheer Leading
Lego Building
Art
Running
Gymnastics
Video Games
Basketball
Fixing TVs
Kick Ball
Legos!
Dancing to Rap Music
Help People
The second grade spelling on some of these was quite wonderful, too: "vityo games," "backitboll").
Of course, I'm curious about the child whose talent is fixing TVs. I'd like to see the child who dances to rap music. My heart is warmed by the child whose talent is helping people.
And my heart is also warmed by educators who encourage all children to recognize and celebrate their talents, whatever they may be.
Monday, March 26, 2012
Saturday, March 24, 2012
Spring Break
I used to look forward to spring break as a chance to catch up on all the work I had left undone during the hectic pace of the semester. But now I look forward to spring break as a chance to catch up on the life I left behind in Colorado when I departed to go teach in Indiana. So few precious days back in Colorado! So much of my sweet life to connect with again.
On my spring break to-do list:
1) Go to church TWICE - this coming Sunday and next Sunday, which is Palm Sunday - Hosanna!
2) Hike as often as I can with Rowan on the beautiful South Shanahan trails in our neighborhood
3) Meet with a writing mentee to give her comments on her middle-grade novel manuscript, which I read on the plane as I was flying home - lots to talk about!
4) Meet with a doctoral student about the first couple of chapters of his dissertation on a philosophical argument for an open borders immigration policy - lots to talk about!
5) Dentist for cleaning and checkup
6) Dying Easter eggs with Gregory and mending a torn pocket on his CU sweatshirt
7) Lunch or dinner with Maureen, Diane, Elizabeth, others!
8) A special session meeting of my writing group to accommodate the timing of my return
9) Finish writing my paper for the conference in China
10) Regain the love of Snickers by as much cuddling as she will permit
That is my to-do list for the week. I can't wait to start crossing off each blissful item on it.
On my spring break to-do list:
1) Go to church TWICE - this coming Sunday and next Sunday, which is Palm Sunday - Hosanna!
2) Hike as often as I can with Rowan on the beautiful South Shanahan trails in our neighborhood
3) Meet with a writing mentee to give her comments on her middle-grade novel manuscript, which I read on the plane as I was flying home - lots to talk about!
4) Meet with a doctoral student about the first couple of chapters of his dissertation on a philosophical argument for an open borders immigration policy - lots to talk about!
5) Dentist for cleaning and checkup
6) Dying Easter eggs with Gregory and mending a torn pocket on his CU sweatshirt
7) Lunch or dinner with Maureen, Diane, Elizabeth, others!
8) A special session meeting of my writing group to accommodate the timing of my return
9) Finish writing my paper for the conference in China
10) Regain the love of Snickers by as much cuddling as she will permit
That is my to-do list for the week. I can't wait to start crossing off each blissful item on it.
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Me and Marco Polo
I have been working hard on organizing my trip to China that is coming up in June: I'm one of ten American children's literature scholars invited to take part in an inaugural symposium focused on the theme of "The Image of the Child in Chinese and American Children's Literature." Ten Chinese scholars will also be presenting. All the papers will be translated English-Chinese or Chinese-English. The symposium will be held at Ocean University in Qingdao, China.
I've been busy trying to buy my plane ticket, a project which turned out to be surprisingly difficult. I'm flying Indianapolis-Chicago-Beijing-Qingdao. I tried to book the whole thing through United, but couldn't seem to do it. Each time I called United, I would get a recording that announced, "Your wait time to speak to a representative is approximately . . . . twenty minutes." I would wait for twenty minutes, then speak to someone in some distant part of the world who couldn't understand what I was saying, then I'd ask to speak to a supervisor, then I'd find out that there was a problem arranging the Beijing-Qingdao segment of the trip on Air China, so I had to wait twenty-four hours and try again. . . or I had to be on a wait list. . . or I had to call Air China myself.
When I finally did call Air China myself, with much trepidation, what a pleasant surprise! My approximate wait time to speak to a representative was no wait time at all. "Brad" spoke better English than the United Airlines folks. I did have to email him a photocopy of my passport, my credit card front and back, and fill out a form to send in. But once I did, the ticket was booked right away.
Then I had to start looking for my hotel in Beijing, as I'm going to stay there for a couple of days before heading up to the conference. Once we get to Qingdao, everything will be taken care of for us there. Luckily, one of the other scholars already had her hotel reservation, so I just copied her, after a few failed tries on their website - actually, successful tries, but each time I hadn't realized that I succeeded, so I kept trying again, and so ended up with a slew of reservations I then had to cancel. And it was scary to sign up to pay 1917 RMB for the three nights. I had to go find out what kind of currency an RMB is, and what it is worth in dollars. It turns out that the whole three-night stay in what looks to be a very fancy hotel will be just $340.
I still have to get the visa, which also doesn't look easy. I'm going to use a special visa agency based in Chicago. Oh, and then, I still have to write the paper that I'm presenting, which is due on April 1 to allow time for the translation. Mine is on the gendered representation of the child in mid-century American chapter books, particularly Henry Huggins and Ramona by Beverly Cleary.
So it's been a big job. But I keep telling myself not to complain. It's going to be a wonderful trip of a lifetime when I get there. And, hey, Marco Polo had a lot of preparations for his trip to China, too. He didn't even get to sit in a comfortable office chair booking his travel on his computer, or by telephone. Put in perspective, approximate wait times of 20 minutes aren't too terrible. Not for me and Marco Polo.
I've been busy trying to buy my plane ticket, a project which turned out to be surprisingly difficult. I'm flying Indianapolis-Chicago-Beijing-Qingdao. I tried to book the whole thing through United, but couldn't seem to do it. Each time I called United, I would get a recording that announced, "Your wait time to speak to a representative is approximately . . . . twenty minutes." I would wait for twenty minutes, then speak to someone in some distant part of the world who couldn't understand what I was saying, then I'd ask to speak to a supervisor, then I'd find out that there was a problem arranging the Beijing-Qingdao segment of the trip on Air China, so I had to wait twenty-four hours and try again. . . or I had to be on a wait list. . . or I had to call Air China myself.
When I finally did call Air China myself, with much trepidation, what a pleasant surprise! My approximate wait time to speak to a representative was no wait time at all. "Brad" spoke better English than the United Airlines folks. I did have to email him a photocopy of my passport, my credit card front and back, and fill out a form to send in. But once I did, the ticket was booked right away.
Then I had to start looking for my hotel in Beijing, as I'm going to stay there for a couple of days before heading up to the conference. Once we get to Qingdao, everything will be taken care of for us there. Luckily, one of the other scholars already had her hotel reservation, so I just copied her, after a few failed tries on their website - actually, successful tries, but each time I hadn't realized that I succeeded, so I kept trying again, and so ended up with a slew of reservations I then had to cancel. And it was scary to sign up to pay 1917 RMB for the three nights. I had to go find out what kind of currency an RMB is, and what it is worth in dollars. It turns out that the whole three-night stay in what looks to be a very fancy hotel will be just $340.
I still have to get the visa, which also doesn't look easy. I'm going to use a special visa agency based in Chicago. Oh, and then, I still have to write the paper that I'm presenting, which is due on April 1 to allow time for the translation. Mine is on the gendered representation of the child in mid-century American chapter books, particularly Henry Huggins and Ramona by Beverly Cleary.
So it's been a big job. But I keep telling myself not to complain. It's going to be a wonderful trip of a lifetime when I get there. And, hey, Marco Polo had a lot of preparations for his trip to China, too. He didn't even get to sit in a comfortable office chair booking his travel on his computer, or by telephone. Put in perspective, approximate wait times of 20 minutes aren't too terrible. Not for me and Marco Polo.
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Close Call
The Children's Literature Festival here in Warrensburg is exhilarating, but grueling as well. It is draining to have to be a larger-than-life exuberant personality in front of four large groups of children four times a day, saying the same thing over and over again as if inventing it on the spot through sudden inspiration. It's emotionally intense to see so many dear friends and share a year's worth of accumulated stories with each one.
So this is why I keep leaving things everywhere.
I went to turn off my cell phone this morning before my first session and realized that I had left it in the motel room, in its charger, after having packed up everything to check out. That wasn't too hard to deal with. One of the festival's wonderful helpers drove back to the motel to get it.
Scarier was what almost happened to Charlie. Charlie is the tiny duck friend of one of the Warrensburg authors; actually, Charlie began life as a padded, furry, elongated-duck-shaped bookmark sold by Barnes & Noble, but he became Pat's beloved friend and a Warrensburg mascot. One year Pat forgot to bring Charlie to the festival. Luckily, we have illustrators here as well as authors, so talented R. W. Alley drew Pat a new Charlie, which she managed to stuff with some cotton, so we had faux Charlie to keep us company.
Well, this year I was feeling a bit melancholy the first night here for no good reason, so Pat loaned me Charlie. He spent the night and next day with me. When I went to return Charlie to Pat last night, she suggested that Charlie would enjoy coming to our author party in the motel's meeeting room, and indeed, Charlie did seem to welcome the festivities. I was tired, so slipped away early to bed.
This morning I saw Pat over at the festival. "Where's Charlie?" she asked.
"I thought YOU had him!" I almost shrieked.
She, too, had left the party early. She too had left Charlie behind.
Frantically, I called the motel. What if - what if - could it be that Charlie had been - no, surely, he wouldn't have been THROWN AWAY?
All right, time for the happy ending: the motel staff hurried up to the meeting room ("It's urgent!" I told them). Charlie has been found. He is safe at the motel registration desk, ready to be reunited with Pat later today.
I plan to get a VERY good sleep tonight, when I'm back home in Indiana. No more forgetting cell phones! No more forgetting little duck friends!
So this is why I keep leaving things everywhere.
I went to turn off my cell phone this morning before my first session and realized that I had left it in the motel room, in its charger, after having packed up everything to check out. That wasn't too hard to deal with. One of the festival's wonderful helpers drove back to the motel to get it.
Scarier was what almost happened to Charlie. Charlie is the tiny duck friend of one of the Warrensburg authors; actually, Charlie began life as a padded, furry, elongated-duck-shaped bookmark sold by Barnes & Noble, but he became Pat's beloved friend and a Warrensburg mascot. One year Pat forgot to bring Charlie to the festival. Luckily, we have illustrators here as well as authors, so talented R. W. Alley drew Pat a new Charlie, which she managed to stuff with some cotton, so we had faux Charlie to keep us company.
Well, this year I was feeling a bit melancholy the first night here for no good reason, so Pat loaned me Charlie. He spent the night and next day with me. When I went to return Charlie to Pat last night, she suggested that Charlie would enjoy coming to our author party in the motel's meeeting room, and indeed, Charlie did seem to welcome the festivities. I was tired, so slipped away early to bed.
This morning I saw Pat over at the festival. "Where's Charlie?" she asked.
"I thought YOU had him!" I almost shrieked.
She, too, had left the party early. She too had left Charlie behind.
Frantically, I called the motel. What if - what if - could it be that Charlie had been - no, surely, he wouldn't have been THROWN AWAY?
All right, time for the happy ending: the motel staff hurried up to the meeting room ("It's urgent!" I told them). Charlie has been found. He is safe at the motel registration desk, ready to be reunited with Pat later today.
I plan to get a VERY good sleep tonight, when I'm back home in Indiana. No more forgetting cell phones! No more forgetting little duck friends!
Monday, March 19, 2012
Once a Year in Warrensburg
I'm here in Warrensburg, Missouri, for the 44th Children's Literature Festival sponsored by the University of Central Missouri. This is my fifteenth or sixteenth time attending. This year thirty-four authors are in attendance, about half of them local to Missouri and surrounding areas, about half flown in from around the country; four thousand schoolkids are signed up to come to the university campus today and tomorrow, accompanied by a thousand supervising adults.
It is all so wonderfully familar to me:
Dinner at Hero's restaurant as we arrive on Saturday
Sunday morning walk by a few of us to see the cows
Sunday luncheon, and then reception and book signing
Sunday evening reception at White Rose Pavilion
Four talks to kids on Monday
Monday afternoon outing to the old-timey downtown shoestore to buy shoes
Monday evening dinner in the library
Four talks to kids on Tuesday
Tearful farewells
Fly home
I love when things stay the same, but this year some things are different. A few of the best-loved authors who have been coming the longest are not here this year, for reasons of health - their own ill health, or the health of their families. In the past year, two cherished festival authors have passed away. People all sound a bit more discouraged this year about the state of the publishing world and the state of the larger economy. It's harder for even veteran authors to get contracts. Books go out of print at faster and faster rates. Slashed school budgets mean less money to fund author visits; high stakes testing means less time for curricular "extras" like having a visiting author come to town.
But the spring here in Warrensburg has never been prettier: magnolia, cherry, crabapple, red bud all in bloom. The cows were truly excellent! I'm SO ready for a new pair of shoes! I love these authors and this festival so much. The publishing world may be scary right now, but Warrensburg isn't. It's a sweet, dear, familiar, beautiful, affirming place to be.
It is all so wonderfully familar to me:
Dinner at Hero's restaurant as we arrive on Saturday
Sunday morning walk by a few of us to see the cows
Sunday luncheon, and then reception and book signing
Sunday evening reception at White Rose Pavilion
Four talks to kids on Monday
Monday afternoon outing to the old-timey downtown shoestore to buy shoes
Monday evening dinner in the library
Four talks to kids on Tuesday
Tearful farewells
Fly home
I love when things stay the same, but this year some things are different. A few of the best-loved authors who have been coming the longest are not here this year, for reasons of health - their own ill health, or the health of their families. In the past year, two cherished festival authors have passed away. People all sound a bit more discouraged this year about the state of the publishing world and the state of the larger economy. It's harder for even veteran authors to get contracts. Books go out of print at faster and faster rates. Slashed school budgets mean less money to fund author visits; high stakes testing means less time for curricular "extras" like having a visiting author come to town.
But the spring here in Warrensburg has never been prettier: magnolia, cherry, crabapple, red bud all in bloom. The cows were truly excellent! I'm SO ready for a new pair of shoes! I love these authors and this festival so much. The publishing world may be scary right now, but Warrensburg isn't. It's a sweet, dear, familiar, beautiful, affirming place to be.
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Proud Day
If I had made a list at age twenty of things I never thought I'd do in my life, one of them would have been: watch my firstborn son graduate from U.S. Army Basic Combat Training. In fact, that was so out of the realm of my possibility that it wouldn't even have made it onto my list of impossibles. As philosopher Bernard Williams has written, before you can even think of something as "unthinkable" you first have to think it. So it really isn't unthinkable. Truly unthinkable things are the things you don't even think of.I never thought I'd get married.
I never thought I'd have children.
I never thought I'd have boys.
I never thought one of them would join the Army.
And so I was surprised to find myself on Thursday at Fort Jackson, South Carolina, watching Christopher graduate from U.S. Army Basic Combat Training, surrounded in the stands by many families with a long tradition of military service. Foxtrot Company marched out onto Hilton Parade Grounds. My son was was there with them.
Christopher, I'm so proud of you for deciding that this is what you want to do with your life right now, and taking steps all on your own to do it. You didn't even tell me you were thinking about this until it was well under way, thinking I might oppose your choice, but I didn't. I was as proud of you on Thursday as I've ever been. I'm also relieved that you're not signed up right now for active duty, but I know that the reserves can be called up at any time, and often are. And if that happens, well, then, we'll just have to pray.
Thursday was an altogether amazing day for me: watching the graduation, touring the base with my tall handsome soldier, and then driving into downtown Columbia to wander around the Riverbend Zoo and Botanic Gardens, and the state Capitol dome, and the University of South Carolina campus. I can't tell you how many people stopped Christopher, who was wearing his camouflage uniform, to thank him for serving his country. I just stood there and beamed.
I'm still beaming now as I type this.
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Greetings from Ottawa, Kansas
This is the eleventh year of the Franklin County Children's Literature Festival. I was one of the authors at the first-ever festival, and now I'm back at the festival again. Last night was the opening banquet to thank the amazing number of local donors who help to fund the event, including, I must say, Walmart (to the tune of a generous $5000). It was also a tribute to the festival's founder, Gerry Getty, a teacher with a big dream who had so much faith in her dream that "you couldn't say no to Gerry." She lived to see the festival blossom and take root, but died a few years ago. The festival every year is dedicated to her.
Co-organizer Vickie Hall, who gave the tribute to Gerry last night, reminded the audience of "the power of one." One person. One idea. One example of exceptional persistence.
Today I'll speak to four groups made up of students from all over Franklin County - a thousand students attending the festival, in all. Each author speaks to four groups of children, grades three through five. Each child gets to hear four different authors: different genres, different approaches, different stories. This successful structure was inspired by the format of the mother-of-all-children's-literature-festivals that I'll be attending next week in Warrensburg, Missouri. Now it's blooming big time here in Franklin County, Kansas.
Thanks for making this happen, Gerry Getty.
Co-organizer Vickie Hall, who gave the tribute to Gerry last night, reminded the audience of "the power of one." One person. One idea. One example of exceptional persistence.
Today I'll speak to four groups made up of students from all over Franklin County - a thousand students attending the festival, in all. Each author speaks to four groups of children, grades three through five. Each child gets to hear four different authors: different genres, different approaches, different stories. This successful structure was inspired by the format of the mother-of-all-children's-literature-festivals that I'll be attending next week in Warrensburg, Missouri. Now it's blooming big time here in Franklin County, Kansas.
Thanks for making this happen, Gerry Getty.
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