Joseph's Big Ride

Joseph's Big Ride

Picture book
Children are children, often with wishes and dreams different
from ours. This can be true even in dire and dangerous situations and
confusing and frightening transitions. Terry Farish's Joseph's Big
Ride, illustrated in bold, vivid colors by Ken Daley, is a very much
needed reminder of this for parents and a touch stone of similarity
for kids from diverse backgrounds.
As the story opens Joseph, who lives in a refugee camp with his
mother, yearns to be able to ride a bicycle. A big boy named Daau
owns one. Whenever he lets Joseph try it out his legs are too short.
Joseph helps Daau maintain his bike while he waits patiently.
"Tomorrow, hey."
Only before Joseph is tall enough to reach the pedals he and his
mother fly to America. Many things are different in his new world.
But one thing is the same. A neighbor owns a beautiful red bicycle--
one that might actually be small enough for him.
Now how can he get the owner, a girl in his new school, to let
him try it out?
On a personal note, it is the day before the UMaine dance marathon.
Saturday a big group will be dancing twelve hours (1 p.m. to 1 a.m.)
to raise money for Children's Miracle Network. I have over $100 in
sponsorship. It's my 4th year! This year we have a carnival theme.
I hope this means cotton candy and sno cones. Mother nature is
predicted to have an April Fools joke in store for Maine: another
snow storm.
A great big shout out goes out to all organizers, participants, and
sponsors. I hope we raise a lot of money and everyone has a good time.
jules hathaway


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Over in the Hollow

Over in the Hollow

Picture book
I think Over In The Meadow Where The Green Grass Grows is pretty
vintage. I have memories of it being on a record album by Burl Ives
we played in my house when I was a child. Rebecca Dickenson's Over In
The Hollow is a delightful adaptation, complimented beautifully by S.
Britt's illustrations.
It's a counting book for the numbers one to thirteen. A spider
mother has her "spidey one" spin. A baton wielding mama owl with
music on a stand instructs her owlets three how to hoot. Auntie witch
commands six broom mounted "little witchies" to zoom. Of course we
can't forget the twelve cats hissing for their mother.
Over in the Hollow is perfect for children mastering their
numbers and parents who like to be expressive when reading aloud.
On a personal note, at Wilson Center last week we had a curry feast
for supper and meditated. Or, in my case, where my hearing loss
negated audio input, copying Dylan so I looked like I was with the
program. We also dyed paper snowflakes. Sarah who runs Wilson Center
had that idea. She noticed that we were slammed with a bunch of
storms after our snowflake making party. So maybe coloring them in
pastel hues would encourage spring. Well worth a try, in my opinion.
A great big shout out goes out to my Wilson Center family.
jules hathaway


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Blood At The Root

Blood At The Root

YA/Adult nonfiction
"There were long periods when Forsyth's prohibition went
untested, and largely unnoticed, at least by white Georgians. For
African Americans, the county's reputation was so well established
that it was rare for anyone to make the mistake of straying over the
line. Once in awhile, a black from Atlanta or Chattanooga would take
the risk of speeding through, and simply pray he didn't run out of gas
or get a flat tire. But more often than not, black Georgians went out
of their way to avoid Forsythe, even if it meant hours of extra
driving, or switching assignments with a coworker, or simply refusing
to go into the cracker county they'd been warned about since they were
children."
If I'd read the above paragraph out of context, I might have
thought it was from a fiction book, maybe penned by Stephen King or a
Southern genre mate. The truth is even more creepy than King and all
his fellow horror writers come up with because it is real life.
Patrick Phillips' Blood At The Root: A Racial Cleansing In America
concerns a little known chapter of Georgia's history.
The narrative begins in 1912. Are you seeing a pattern from our
reading here? The Texas Rangers slaughtered Tejanos (Shame The
Stars) often just for being of Mexican origin. Nativists and
eugenicists attempted to limit citizenship to the right castes,
keeping less desirables from entering America or being born
(Im•Be•Ciles; Three Generations, No Imbeciles). I believe we can
hypothesize that the second decade of the twentieth century was not a
good time in the United States to be anything but wealthy WASP (White
Anglo Saxon Protestant).
On September 10, 1912 Forsythe County, Georgia was in a state of
racial tension. Days earlier a woman screamed, claiming to have been
"awakened by the presence of a negro man in her bed." When suspects
had been rounded up the militia had to be called in to get them (and a
black preacher who had been whipped nearly to death for alluding to
the victim as a "sorry white woman") out of the county and away from
the armed huge white mob that wanted to lynch them and burn their
bodies so they would be alive to stand trial. An incident in the
mountains had added fuel to the fire. Many white denizens believed
that their worst fears were coming to fruition. The blacks were
rising up to kill them (of course after violating their women) and
steal or destroy their property.
September 9 18-year-old Mae Crow did not arrive at her aunt's
house where she had agreed to meet her mother. Hours passed. Search
parties scoured the area. The next morning she was found brutally
beaten and unconscious. One suspect was coerced into confessing by
being threatened with a noose. Another was lynched by a blood thirsty
mob.
The chilling sights of a public whipping and a lynching and the
knowledge that increasing numbers of whites were armed and dangerous
had black people fleeing the rural county. Night riders, armed with
guns, kerosene, and dynamite targeted the homes and churches of blacks
to hasten their goal of a white only county. The terrorism
accelerated after Mae Crow's death from her injuries.
"Generation after generation, Forsyth County remained 'all
white,' even as the Great War, the Spanish influenza, World War II,
and the civil rights movements came and went, and as kudzu crept up
over the remnants of black Forsyth. The people of the county, many
descended from the lynchers and night riders, shook their heads as the
South changed around them. They read about the clashes in Montgomery,
and Savannah, and Selma, and felt proud of their county's old
fashioned ways, its unspoiled beauty, and a peacefulness that they saw
as a direct result of having 'run the niggers out.'...In truth, many
in Forsyth believed that 'racial purity' was their inheritance and
birthright. And like their fathers' fathers' fathers, they saw even a
single black face as a threat to their entire way of life."
Racism is the major theme of Blood At The Root. However,
classism is strongly intertwined. Not all whites wanted the night
riders to accomplish their goal. The disapprovers acted from vested
self interest, not a moral imperative. Some were aghast that their
wives and daughters, minus maids, had to demean themselves by cooking
and cleaning. Others, wanting to bring modern prosperity to their
county, did not want investors to be disuaded by images of mob
violence. In a telling episode, after a tour of wealthy whites had
been persuaded to put Forsythe on their itinerary, they had to flee
for the county line when a mob of irate citizens tried to assault
their black chauffeurs. It's not exactly what you want when you're
aiming for good publicity.
Also many of the night riders were descended from land owners.
Circumstances beyond their control had brought them down to share
lower rungs on the economic ladder and compete with blacks for work as
hired hands and sharecroppers. See any resemblance to many white men
today losing decent paying jobs or the hope of obtaining them to
outsourcing and automation?
I see Blood At The Root as a must read in today's world.
Emboldened by the current White House occupant, white supremacists are
putting out literature that sounds alarmingly like that of the not so
good old days and hate crimes are on the rise.
Remember: those who fail to learn from history are doomed to
repeat it.
On a personal note, my good friend and former editor has been helping
me greatly with my op ed pieces, reading over and commenting on ones I
run by him. My own editing skills are really improving, not only for
my nonfiction but for my poetry.
A great big shout out (and thanks) go out to Matthew Stone who does
investigative work for the BDN and knows how to make policy and
numbers sexy.
jules hathaway





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Toby

Toby

Picture book
Author-illustrator Hazel Mitchell lost her heart to a dog
rescued from a puppy mill. The temporary foster home she initially
offered turned into a forever family. She undoubtedly discovered that
the road from neglect to loving care is not always easy going for
either critter or humans. In her lovely picture book, Toby, fiction
based on real life, readers, listeners, and parents are privy to the
snags and the wonderful rewards of rescue adoption.
A boy and his dad, moving into a new home, adopt a dog from an
animal shelter. Much to the boy's consternation, Toby is initially
afraid and hard to get close to. The father's patience is tried by
Toby chewing things up. But then a special thing happens and you know
the trio is bonded for keeps.
Toby is a perfect read aloud. I can't imagine anyone, parent or
child, not falling in love with this canine cutie.
On a personal note, my marriage family's first cat, Murray, was given
to Eugene and me after three years of impermanence and possible
neglect. It took her awhile to realize she was part of a forever
family. We moved twice while she was with us. She came to us as an
outdoor/indoor cat. Every time she saw us pack she started bringing
in all kinds of small dead creatures and dropping them at our feet,
probably demonstrating her love and usefulness in hopes we'd keep her.
A great big shout out goes out to rescue animals and their human
companions.
jules hathaway


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Everybody Needs A Hideaway

Everybody Needs A Hideaway

Picture book
"Somewhere hidden in the woods of western Maine there is a very
special pine tree--a hideaway tree--in a secret place where a boy and
his dog like to be."
When you were a child did you have a hideaway--somewhere you
could be alone to read or create or think or just daydream? I know I
had a few: a comfy tree perfect for reading in, a spot beside the
jetty on my favorite beach, the decrepit abandoned house I'd been told
never to go into.
Dean Bennett's gentle story and soft illustrations (mostly
pastels with a few pencil sketches) provide a stirring testimony to
the specialness of such beloved spaces.
A boy climbs into his treehouse hideout. At first there are
birds to watch. Suddenly a huge bull moose is napping under his hide
out. He's supposed to go home soon but is afraid to come down.
Fortunately help is on the way in the form of a very loyal chum.
This is a very special book to share with your own beloved
little people. It can help them and you be more aware of the
creatures big and small with whom we share our world.
On a personal note, in the center of Maine is a special studio a mom
and her cat like to go. It's our dear little studio with our favorite
snow globes, a year round beautifully adorned Christmas tree and mini
tree, our world museum of natural treasures, and other favorite
things. No matter how much I love spending time with friends and
family sometimes I need its ambience to read, write, craft, and
daydream in.
A great big shout goes out to all who treasure their special spaces.
jules hathaway


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Shame The Stars

Shame The Stars

Mature YA/adult historical fiction
"My father shook his head and said, 'There are no clear lines
anymore, no boundaries, Joaquin. Evil has rooted itself into our
lands, dug itself deep into the souls of mejicanos on both sides of
the border. While most are out for blood, some just want food or the
money to buy it, and a well-maintained herd of cattle is both of those
things.'"
One evening Guadelupe Garcia McCall's older son showed her a
book, Revolution in Texas: How a Forgotten Rebellion and Its Bloody
Suppression Turned Mexicans into Americans. It had to do with a
bloody part of that state's history. Mexican Texans were losing farms
and ranches to whites. Attempts to protect themselves or even the
"crime" of being dark skinned was met with cruel vigilante justice
meted out by the Texas Rangers.
"...The insurgence and its punishment became a vicious cycle
that was too horrific to be spoken of, much less documented. Many of
the crimes committed against tejanos and Mexicans in South Texas went
unreported. Most have been forgotten."
McCall kept reading the book, studying the pictures. She felt
sorrow for the innocent victims, many young men like her sons, who
were killed for their skin color at a time Rangers could get away with
it. She was bothered by the fact that this tragic period in American
history is still being left out of school textbooks. She wrote Shame
the Stars to give the forgotten victims a voice in today's world.
Joaquin, a rancher's younger son (his older brother, Tomas, is a
priest) is about to be sent off to Michigan for his college
education. He suspects that his father wants to separate him from his
beloved Dulcena. (Two years earlier his father had kicked Dulcena's
parents off his property, angered by the dangerous content of his
newspaper.) He feels that it would be wrong to abandon her at such a
turbulent and dangerous time.
Now Joaquin no longer sees Dulcena at school. She is being
tutored at home. Her father wants to keep her safe. The Texas
Rangers and the low lives they deputize are killing suspects without a
court trial. Her father speaks up for the victims through his
newspaper. He gets daily death threats.
Joaquin and Dulcena communicate via secret notes delivered by
friends. (Both families are standing in the way of their
relationship.) When she invites him to a friend's masked ball
quincenera he envisages a few sneaked dances with his beloved.
What Joaquin does not expect is for Dulcena to instruct him to
meet him at midnight at their secret place. The rendevous is as
disastrous as he had feared it would be. On their way back to the
party they are accosted by two sheriff's deputies. One of them,
Slater, attempts to rape Dulcena.
When Jaoquin's father tries to report the incident to Captain
Munro, a Texas Ranger, nothing is done to punish the guilty parties.
In fact the next morning on an errand Jaoquin encounters Slater
talking trash about Dulcena.
You know as well as I do things won't end there. Joaquin is
determined to protect Dulcena against those to whom they are
acceptable collateral damage.
This book is for adult readers and mature YAs. Some scenes are
too graphic for sixth graders. The characters really come alive.
(Joaquin is so much like my own son while his mother is a tejano
version of the person I work toward being). Reading it is intense.
It took me two nights and both times I needed a beer to fall asleep.
On a personal note, are the Texas Rangers all that different from
today's police who go unpunished for killing unarmed blacks? Is the
prejuduce against and treatment of Muslims and immigrants today any
less reprehensible than the brutality displayed then toward tejanos?
A great big shout out goes out to all who are brave on the side of
victims of prejudice.
jules hathaway


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Douglas, You Need Glasses

Douglas, You Need Glasses

Picture book
There are many things youngsters do not want to hear. It's back
to school shopping time. No dessert until you polish off those
Brussels sprouts. Clean your room. I'm sure "you need glasses" has
to be near the top of the list. Ged Adamson got that news during his
childhood. His Douglas, You Need Glasses can help today's kids cope
with the situation.
Douglas is a cheerful dog who scampers enthusiastically through
his world, oblivious to his vision difficulties. Instead of chasing
squirrels he pursues falling leaves. He trudges through wet cement
and blunders into a no dogs allowed skate park. When a game of fetch
goes terribly wrong his person companion knows what she must do.
At the back of of the book there are two pages of pictures of
real kids wearing glasses and an invitation for youngsters to post
similar pictures on social media. How cool is that?
On a personal note, I did not wear glasses as a child. But my third
grade year I had to wear an eye patch in a futile attempt to correct a
lazy eye. Some of my less than fond memories include struggling to
copy cursive off the blackboard and having the teacher think I was
lazy, hearing strange adults exclaim "the poor little thing" in public
places, and almost getting hit by cars and trucks.
A great big shout out goes out to glasses wearers.
jules hathaway


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Night On Fire

Night On Fire

Juvenile/YA/adult
"What they saw were Negroes and white people together--
traveling, marching, getting beaten up and burned. It started in my
little town of Anniston, and it moved to Birmingham and Selma and
Washington, DC. I watched the flames catch and spread to Montgomery,
where they were fanned and blessed by Martin Luther King. The people
sang, the mob roared, and I glimpsed freedom."
Billie, protagonist of Ronald Kidd's Night On Fire, and her best
friend, Grant are in the local grocery store. A black boy about her
age gets kicked out. The store owner explains: "Personally, I don't
mind them coming. But they might bother some of my customers."
Black students are not allowed to compete in the local spelling
bee. A young woman, Jarmaine, who turns out to be the daughter of
Billie's family's maid, Lavender, speaks up to protest the unfainess.
The audience is angered by her refusal to keep quiet.
There are intimations of overt and covert racism in Billie's
world. But nothing that comes before can prepare for Mother's Day,
1961, the day the Freedom Riders bus arrives in her town and the
parking lot near the grocery store becomes a little bit of Hell on
earth.
Night on Fire is one of the most powerful coming of age novels I
have seen targeted to intermediate grade students. Billie has to face
revelations of racism in her family and community...and possibly in
herself.
"In the parking lot of Forsyth's Grocery I had seen something
awful. Was it here too, in my house, at our table? There were no
angry mobs, no fires or threats, no clubs or chains--just apple pie,
two cups of coffee, and a glass of milk. We weren't burning buses or
beating people up. We weren't doing anything. Maybe that was the
problem."
On a personal note, some people these days are reassuring themselves
that, in the face of all the atrocities we're seeing on the news, at
least they aren't personally shooting unarmed blacks, deporting
immigrants to almost certain death, trashing environmental
protections, or scrapping meals on wheels. Fortunately a lot of us
feel strongly that this can't be enough, that all it takes for evil to
win is for good people to be silent.
A great big shout out goes out to all who speak up for peace and
justice in these treacherous times.
jules hathaway


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Blue In A Red State

Blue In A Red State

Adult nonfiction
"There may be more liberals, but Lisa is still reminded on a
regular basis that she's in the minority in Waukesha. In 2012, as you
drove into Waukesha, you were greeted by a giant Romney/Ryan sign. On
the highway, churches posted conservative messages on their
billboards. For an atheist like Lisa, it was a frequent reminder that
she wasn't in Madison anymore...Fox News was almost always on the
televisions in local businesses."
News commentators have this nation divided into blue and red
states jigsaw puzzle neatly. The reality, of course, is a lot
messier. In Maine, for example, big city Portland is a lot more
liberal than some of the left behind formerly industrial towns
struggling to survive in a global economy.
It can be really comfortable living among people who share your
political orientation and related values. Maybe you have to deal with
conservative relatives and in-laws at a few yearly get togethers. But
the rest of the time you can feel free to speak your mind, put bumper
stickers on your car, and post what you really think on social media.
For some people that's not an option. Others find other factors
such as lower cost of living or a more rural life style to outweigh
political identities. Others embrace the challenge of being minorities
and getting to know and maybe influence colleagues and neighbors on
the other end of the spectrum. These are the people Justin Krebs has
portrayed in Blue In A Red State: The Survival Guide To Life In The
Real America.
"These liberals keep up the pressure for progress in the most
intimidating of settings. They voice unpopular but necessary views.
They live side by side with many Americans who don't strongly identify
with any political label and are the most potentially persuadable.
And they also put a friendly face on "liberalism"--making it harder
for conservatives to demonize them, just as liberals need not to
demonize those with politics at the other end of the spectrum."
Lisa (mentioned above) has two Facebook accounts: one for her
political views and the other for cat pictures. She doesn't put up
signs that might alienate neighbors or attach bumper stickers to her
car. She and husband Paul feel that they are "strangers in a strange
land."
Diane is a Democratic chair in Sarah Palin country who advises
candidates, "Things can get passionate on the campaign trail. But
after the election, you're still going to run into these people at the
grocery, postal box, the watering hole, your church. It's not worth
blowing up your life and your relationships." She is aware that in
sparsely populated areas with extreme weather it's not wise to burn
bridges with the neighbor whose help you might need in an emergency.
Retirees Rita and Dean love residing on a South Carolina
island. They have friends across the spectrum; they're just careful
who they talk politics with. They have little patience for anyone--
conservative or liberal--who inflicts their views on everyone else,
alienating neighbors.
They are just four of the people profiled in Blue In A Red
State. It's a very thought provoking book. Almost all of us have at
least a few colleagues, neighbors, or family members way across the
aisle. Some of us are even married to them. Anyone who can find even
a few useful ideas will find the book to be a wise investment.
On a personal note, I'm a total misfit in Veazie. I'm a lot more
outspoken and liberal than most people. Also Veazie is very class
snobby and I speak up for the have nots. I am the voice many people
do not want to hear. I'm lucky to be just a few miles away from Orono
with its more liberal and ethnically diverse populace and UMaine. Now
that I am no longer on school committee I get my mail, reside, vote,
and pay taxes in Veazie. My heart is in Orono.
A great big shout out goes out to all who find themselves strangers in
a strange land.



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Octopuses One To Ten

Octopuses One To Ten

Picture book
We rarely give much thought to those denizens of the deep:
octopuses. And most of us have no idea how interesting and diverse
they are. Ellen Jackson and Robin Page's Octopuses One To Ten helps
children learn their numbers while providing them and the big people
in their lives with fascinating fun facts.
Numbers one to nine give general information. Did you know an
octopus has three hearts? Can you guess what their four clever ways
of evading hungry predators are? Do you know the date World Octopus
Day falls on? How many brains does an octopus have? Hint: more than
one.
When you get to the number ten you get to meet ten distinct
types of Octopus ranging from the blanket octopus whose males are 100
times smaller than their females to the mimic octopus that can make
itself look and act like fifteen different sea creatures. There is
even an octopus named after a Disney character.
At the back of the book you find octopus crafts, some of which
are edible. I'm going to put Oreo cookies and gummy worms on the
shopping list to make myself a yummy snack.
On a personal note, we had ourselves another big old blizzard Tuesday
into Wednesday. Eugene worked a couple of night shifts. When he got
home Thursday he took me to Dennys for breakfast. At his company they
are moving snow to make room for any more we may get. This with
calendar spring just around the corner!
A great big shout out goes out to Eugene and all the others who plow
so we all can get around.
jules hathaway


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Bad Kitty vs Uncle Murray

Bad Kitty vs Uncle Murray

Juvenile graphic novel
True confession: I like Nick Bruel's Bad Kitty series. I'm not
above skimming those books in the middle of shelving. This time I
decided to take one home and review it.
Often Bad Kitty has to adjust to strange (and in his mind
objectionable) beings. There was the smelly, drooly canine
companion. And in Bad Kitty vs Uncle Murray her companion couple
takes off on a trip, leaving her in the custody of the most inept
petsitter imaginable.
It's mutual dislike at first sight.
It's going to be a very long week.
On a personal note, Maine goes from one snow storm to the next.
Skimobilers are delighted; designated plowers are a tad less
enthusiastic.
A great big shout out goes out to all who plow and restore electricity
during the storms like my beloved husband, Eugene.
jules hathaway


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More Enchantment From Helen Frost and Rick Lieder

More Enchantment From Helen Frost and Rick Lieder

Picture books
Recall we recently discovered Sweep Up The Sun? I was over the
moon when I savored this beautiful book--so much so that when I
returned it to the Orono Public Library I showed one of our
professional librarians. She showed me two other Helen Frost (poetry)
and Rick Lieder (photographs) collaborations.
Holy Hannah!
They surely did make for good reading.
Step Gently Out brings readers face to face with some of our
world's tiny, but beautiful and fascinating denizens.
A powdery, feathery chickweed geometer moth "comes to rest with
open wings";
An orb-weaver spider "spins a silken thread and steps across the
air";
The pages featuring an ebony jewelwing damselfly reminds us that
"In song and dance
and stillness,
they share the world
with you."
Have you ever experienced the seemingly magical appearance of
dozens of flashing lights hovering over a field or lawn at dusk?
Among a Thousand Fireflies takes readers to
"...a summer meadow
near the river,
as night's first stars
blink on,"
A female firefly, intent on mating, lands on a flower. But how, among
all the flashing males, will she find one of her own kind? We closely
follow the courtship ritual until
"Night is black
and bright
and warm.
It holds
and carries
their clear silent song."
Step Gently Out invites us all to
"be still
and watch
a single blade
of grass."
These days when so many people rush past the small enchantments of
nature, eyes fixed on small screens this is very timely advice. You
do not know what you are missing until you accept this invitation and
become aware of the complex and beautiful ecosystems that occuppy the
outside world. As one who stops to admire spiderwebs and wrote a poem
about an albino leaf hopper, may I suggest a little less screen time,
a little more nature time? These two books can surely inspire and give
direction.
The information page of Among a Thousand Fireflies informs us
that "Poets and artists and scientists all care about fireflies. We
can help protect them by learning about them and taking care of the
places where they live."
Amen to that!
On a personal note, this post celebrates a very big milestone for my
little blog. Step Gently Out and Among A Thousand Fireflies are the
999th and 1000th books I have reviewed here. (This is not, however,
my 1000th post since some (like this) have had more than one book.)
Why is this special to me? Back in the fall when I was applying to
grad school I remembered the belief that folding 1000 paper cranes
will make a wish come true. To be perfectly honest, I had neither the
time nor the patience. Also I felt making those birds with no idea
what to do with them might end up being highly wasteful. I wanted to
do a thousand somethings. Then I was into the early 900s on reviewing
and decided kicking my reading up a bit would be a lot more resourceful.
No matter how long it takes, no matter what it takes I will get into
graduate school.
A great big shout out goes out to my readers, the writers of the
wonderful books I greatly enjoyed reading and sharing, the gang at
Orono Public Library (the source of most of the books), and my future
grad school teachers and classmates!
And here's to the next thousand books! Some of them are being
created now even as you read this. I look forward to spotting and
tracking down their bright flashing lights.
jules hathaway


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Invisible Man, Got The Whole World Watching

Invisible Man, Got The Whole World Watching

Mature YA/Adult nonfiction
"The nigger is America's greatest asset and its greatest fear.
The nigger represents the bottom, from slavery to incarceration,
America's most reliable source of exploited labor. The nigger
generates profit that America feels no obligation to share. The
nigger is reminded of its position at the bottom by being shuttered
off in the worst neighborhoods with the least amount of resources,
while being told to be grateful for America's benevolence. And so
long as the nigger exists, America can say to its other exploited
populations, 'At least you aren't the nigger.'"
Did your life change any when you learned about George Zimmerman
shooting Trayvon Martin? Maybe you were saddened or angered,
motivated to write a letter to the editor or attend a protest. Surely
you saw how young black men are endangered by some of the very people
entrusted to serve and protect us all. For Mychal Denzel Smith this
pivotal moment provided a series of ephanies that culminated in
Invisible Man, Got The Whole World Watching: A Young Black Man's
Education. He asked himself how he learned how to be a black man in
America. The book is insightful, disquieting, and well worth reading.
Smith was born into a Navy family during Reagan's presidency.
His parents were and expected him to become the epitome of black
respectability. He was not to wear ghetto styles, listen to rap
music, or use anything but correct English. He was to, through being
twice as good as whites and acquiring an education, show the world he
was not "just another black man."
"But the right kind of black. The successful, respectable kind
of black. The kind of black that was 'twice as good,' that made
itself known and then faded. The kind of black that would allow
people to just see a man. The kind of black man my father was raising
me to be."
Shall we say things did not go according to paternal plan? He
discovered Malcolm X and hit an age where his parents could no longer
censor his music. When he started college he hoped to bond with
others eager to unite to bring down the racist system. "Instead I
found thousands of mini-Obamas and an administration happy to indulge
their delusions."
Smith candidly shares his experiences of being a young male
black in a less than hospitable environment. Unarmed peers were shot
by police. In the post Katrina chaos black families were described as
looting while whites were looking for food. Black rage was to be
hidden lest it give the wrong impression.
I think this is a book that needs to be universally read,
particularly by those of us who are white.
Meteorologically, Maine has just been slammed by yet another
nor'easter. We're back to being snowed under. The meteorologist who
delivered the blow by blow last night was like an 8-year-old on
Christmas Eve. My husband, who is out plowing as I write this, was a
tad less enthusiastic.
On a personal note, I've started tracking down sponsors for the
upcoming UMaine dance marathon to raise money for Children's Miracle
Network. It's my 4th year and, as always, I approach it with a
mixture of excitement and trepidition. Why the trepidation? Petit
mal eilepsy + flashing colored lights = not quite the winning
combination.
A great big shout put goes out to all planning to participate.
jules hathaway


Sent from my iPod

The Secret Tree

The Secret Tree

Juvenile fiction
"I said it out loud: 'No one loves me except my goldfish.' Back
in my bedroom, my own goldfish, Zuzu, circled the bowl on my dresser.
Every kid in the neighborhood had a goldfish. Mr. Jack, who lived
next door to Troy, owned a pet store, and he gave everyone a goldfish
on his or her birthday.
Anyone could have written that note. But who could be so
terribly lonely?"
There are very few people who don't harbor at least one secret.
Chances are that includes your nearest and dearest, maybe even you.
Now try to imagine being given the secrets of everyone in your
neighborhood including friends and family and having to match the
secrets to the people to solve serious problems. That's the plight of
Minty, protagonist of Natalie Standiford's The Secret Tree.
One summer evening Minty and her best friend, Paz, see a flash
in the woods that border their street. She chases a boy size
creature. When she realizes he's escaped she's near a tree that
vibrates "like a hive full of bees." A hole in the tree holds a note
that says "No one loves me except my goldfish."
It's only the first of many.
"I'm so stoopid. Im affraid something is rong with my brane.
But I dont want anywon to find out or theyll kep me back"
"I put a curse on my enemy. And it's working."
"I'm betraying my best friend in a terrible way."
"I wish I had the guts to run away."
The mysterious stranger turns out to be a boy about Minty's age,
covertly occuppying an abandoned model home, part of a run out of
money development near the witch house on the other side of the
woods. He tells her about a spirit in the tree in whom people confide
their secrets, hoping they'll go away. He enlists her as a
confederate in spying to find out who each secret belongs to when she
tells him about her best friend suffering from mysterious symptoms,
possibly due to a curse placed on her.
The Secret Tree is a delightful summer vaca read for
intermediate grade kids, especially those entering middle school in
September. Despite the lingering dingy heaps of snow and imminent
storm prospects, it will be here before most of us are ready.
On a personal note, OMG! You would not believe the Orono Thrift
Shop's transfiguration. They were shut awhile allegedly for
painting. They did that and a whole lot more. The heavy old wooden
tables are gone. They've hauled in new glass ones from the going out
of business Macys up to the Bangor Mall. The whole place looks larger
and sunnier, like a boutique that could hold its own even in
Portland. But they have the same sweet, friendly ladies running it
and amazingly low prices. Talk about a win-win! If you're ever in
Orono, Maine on a day they're open you owe it to yourself to check the
place out.
A great big shout out goes out to the wonderful Orono Thrift Shop Crew.
jules hathaway


Sent from my iPod

Ghost

Ghost

Juvenile fiction
"...My dad! My dad was actually shooting...at...US! His wife
and his boy! I didn't look to see where he hit, mainly because I was
scared it was gonna be me. Or Ma..."
Three years before his narrative begins Castle Crenshaw also
known as Ghost, protagonist of Jason Reynolds' Ghost, was roused out
of slumber by his frantic mother. As she pulled him down the hall he
saw his staggering drunk father holding a gun.
Drunken Dad is in jail now and Castle and his mother struggle to
get by. His mom works in a nursing home kitchen (most of their
suppers are their leftovers) and takes college classes on line,
determined to become a nurse. Castle gets in a lot of trouble. When
peers tease him about stuff like his clothes he reacts with anger.
His altercations have resulted in a lot of detentions and suspensions.
One day he sees a running club practicing and stops to watch.
He sees one runner who seems too full of himself and wants to show him
up. The reluctant coach gives him one shot. He runs against him and
starts to walk away.
The next minute the coach is coming up behind him, inviting him
to be on the team. At first he isn't interested. Basketball is his
game. But he signs on. As he gets to know his teammates and develop
a sense of real belonging, staying on becomes very important.
Staying on the team, however, is contingent on his not getting
into trouble. This has never been his strong point.
All kid and adult readers who enjoy a story about an underdog
struggling to succeed against strong odds will find Ghost to be a must
read.
Those of us who enjoy the book are really in luck. It's billed
as the first volume in a series about the team.
On a personal note, Orono United Methodist Church had a visit from the
bishop. I guess that doesn't happen all that often. People were
freaked out because they didn't know how to address him and were
afraid of making a mistake. Seriously. That was the big topic before
adult Sunday school class. Then when he was waiting to shake hands
after the service people were waiting for someone else to take the
risk. Good thing I was there. I broke the ice by telling him we had
a lunch fit for a bishop downstairs and inviting him to join us. You
can't go wrong with food.
A great big shout goes out to the bishop and all who worked hard to
get ready for his visit--especially all who worked on the yummy lunch.
jules hathaway



Sent from my iPod

The Best Worst Thing

The Best Worst Thing

Juvenile fiction
"Front door locked, kitchen door locked. Kitchen window closed,
basement door closed, living room windows closed, sliding glass door
locked. Nobody behind the bathroom door, nobody hiding behind the
shower curtain, bathroom window closed. Nobody behind our bedroom
door. Nobody in the closet. Nobody under our bunks or under Tana's
bed. Bedroom window closed.
Please don't let the murderer kill us, please don't let the
murderer kill us. Please let middle school get better, please let
middle school get better."
Maggie, protagonist of Kathleen Lane's The Best Worst Thing, has
a big problem with anxiety. The first sentence of her narrative is:
"It's the night we're going to be murdered so we're sleeping on the
living room floor." The we in question is her whole family--mom, dad,
three daughters. The murderer is the man who shot a cashier at the
Mini Mart--a cashier who had spoken to the girls just hours earlier.
The murderer is at large. Maggie is sure it's only a matter of time
before he comes after them.
Maggie is just starting middle school. They have break instead
of recess. The girls walk around instead of playing. Her best
friend, Kelsey, is gravitating to the popolar but not all that nice
crowd. A classmate/neighbor who has allegedly already shot a deer is
rumored to be getting a gun in a couple of weeks for his twelth
birthday.
And there are the adorable rabbits doomed to be butchered and
eaten if Maggie can't find a way to set them free.
Fortunately all may not be lost and help can come from the most
unlikely of places. Kids and adults, particularly those of us with
anxieties of our own, will find Maggie to be a spunky heroine, well
worth rooting for.
On a personal note, the mythical character Smokey the Bear gave me
anxious evenings when I was growing up. I took his "Only YOU can
prevent forest fires" a little too much to heart. I remember some
nights lying awake planning how, should the house catch on fire, I was
to rescue my sleeping parents and sister and all the animals, exotic
and otherwise, with whom we shared our home.
These days, because I am so robustly happy and confident in
their presence, my chums would never guess I have anxieties. What are
these days? I worry about money. I worry about maybe never getting
into grad school. I worry equally about getting a job and not getting
a job in that terrifying place known as the real world. The worries
are like cockroaches. They only come out scurrying out when I am
apart from the light of my froends' presences.
A great big shout out goes out to the family members and friends,
human and feline, who help me cope with and conquer them.
jules hathaway



Sent from my iPod

Every Single Second

Every Single Second

Juvenile fiction
"But really? Most of life didn't feel that way. Where and when
you were born. Who you got for parents. Whether you were pretty or
not, smart or not, black or white or brown. Whether you happened to be
at the wrong place at the wrong time and made one mistake and
afterward nothing was ever the same...What if God only tricked people
into thinking they had choices? He was God. He could do whatever he
wanted."
Nella, protagonist of Tricia Springstubb's Every Single Second,
is growing up in a very segregated area, symbolized as a steep hill
where there's a big gap between the well off at the top and the poor
at the bottom, blacks and whites. There's also a lot to deal with in
the lives of her family and friends.
Her father was waylaid from a college future by a very bad
decision he made as a teen.
Her cantankerous great grandmother has been silenced by a stroke
that may be partly Nella's fault.
Her once best friend and secret sister, Angela, may be being
abused by her father, a vet who suffers from PTSD. Angela's mother
has fled the scene.
Angela's beloved older brother and only protector, Anthony, is
behind bars. He shot a black man who was seeking help after an auto
accident, believing him to be trying to break into a neighbor's house.
Nella's parochial school has been shut down. Her new best
friend, Clem, has passed the entrance exam to a magnet school while
she is doomed to a local and not well regarded public one.
What's a girl to do?
Read the book and see.
On a personal note, right before break we had a panel of UMaine
student activist groups. There were eight of us on the panel. I
represented Real Food Challenge dressed as a bumblebee. I think it
went really well.
A great big shout out goes out to everyone who participated.
jules hathaway


Sent from my iPod

Refuge

Refuge

Picture book
"And I kept walking, carrying my precious load,
and the woman held her baby close to her heart,
and she and the man talked, about journeys,
and dreams and warnings,
and the love of a baby,
and the kindness of strangers."
Today we live in a world where one in 113 people is a refugee,
seeking shelter and safety far from home. In their Refuge Anne Booth
and Sam Usher remind us of a very famous refugee couple a couple of
thousand years ago...a virgin mother...no room in the inn, shepherds
sore afraid, a star of wonder, an angel proclaiming good news...
Sound familiar.
This humble account is probably the closest you can get to the
real Christmas story. It's a timely reminder that the savior many of
us worship started out in life in a family like those we see all
scared and bedraggled on the news.
If you can afford to buy the book, please do so. A dollar from
each book goes to help refugees. It would make a great gift for a
school, church, or public library.
On a personal note, we celebrated Mardi Gras at Wilson Center. After
a fine baked potato bar supper we played games. I came home with six
necklaces.
A great big shout out goes out to my Wilson Center family.
jules hathaway


Sent from my iPod

Sweep Up The Sun

Sweep Up The Sun

Picture book
Have you ever admired the grace and beauty of birds? Do you
love how even in the most citified places they swoop into our midst,
causing our souls to soar, taking our minds for a moment away from
earthly concerns. Then you need to read Sweep Up The Sun, a beautiful
pairing of Helen Frost's poetry and Rick Lieder's photographs even if
their are no kids on the premises.
A woodpecker and a starling "pause for a quick conversation";
A nuthatch finds itself "alone in the sky" while a group of
mallard ducks "flying with friends, your wings will carry you far";
A cardinal is seen "stitching earth to sky, with invisible
thread"...
With or without kids in your life take time for a bird walk.
It's fun to carefully observe, photograph, draw, or write about the
feathered creatures you encounter. Seriously. I've written some
pretty good pigeon poetry.
On a personal note, the early appearance of migratory birds has me
concerned. A cardinal in Northern Maine on Valentines Day? Seriously.
A great big shout out goes out to our feathered friends large and small.
jules hathaway


Sent from my iPod

My Stroke of Fortune

My Stroke of Fortune

Adult nonfiction
"Every brain has a story and this is mine. Ten years ago, I was
at Harvard Medical School performing research and teaching young
professionals about the human brain. But on December 10, 1996, I was
given a lesson of my own. That morning, I experienced a rare form of
stroke in the left hemisphere of my brain. A major hemorrhage, due to
an undiagnosed congenital malformation of the blood vessels in my
head, erupted unexpectedly. Within four brief hours through the eyes
of a curious brain anatomist (neuroanatomist), I watched my mind
completely deteriorate in its ability to process information. By the
end of that morning, I could not walk, talk, read, write, or recall
any of my life. Curled up into a little fetal ball, I felt my spirit
surrender to my death, and it certainly never dawned on me that I
would ever be capable of sharing my story with anyone.
The above lead paragraph from Jill Bolte Taylor's My Stroke of
Insight: A Brain Scientist's Personal Journey has one of the best
hooks I have ever seen. I can't imagine not being overwhelmingly
curious to see how this miracle took place. In itself, the narrative
is fascinating and inspiring. Taylor, however, also challenges many
assumptions our society has about perceiving and rehabilitating stroke
patients. I'd put her story up there with that of Helen Keller.
It was also a real stroke of luck for me that I read the book
exactly when I did. You'll find out why in my personal note.
In her pre stroke life, Taylor was a super achiever. One day
she woke up to a severe headache. As she attempted to get ready for
the day she was bombarded by confusing symptoms. Fortunately she was
able to get help before she totally lost the ability to do so.
Taylor found her body's attempts to interact with the world
profoundly painful. The people assigned to attend to her often really
didn't help. Redundant procedures drained her energy. Questions
focused on her ability to recall, rather than her strategies to
recover, information. Many professionals sapped her through
impatience and rough handling. Her roommate's television noise
provided too much stimulation.
Fortunately when she was able to return home from the hospital
Taylor was put in the care of her mother, G.G., a woman of great
wisdom and patience. She was able to work at her own pace, sleep when
she needed to, and be tended to by a very responsive and resourceful
person willing to think out of the box and try unconventional ideas.
By focussing on and being grateful for any triumphs, no matter how
seemingly small, rather than how far she had to go she was able to
remain positive and enthusiastic.
Taylor feels that her stroke gave her an enormous gift. Before
it her left brain had dominated her right, disguising its potential
blessings. Suddenly she was able to realize and enjoy and integrate
them:
"My right mind character is adventurous, celebrative of
abundance, and socially adept. It is sensitive to nonverbal
communication, empathic, and accurately decodes emotion...It is my
intuition and higher consciousness..."
My Stroke of Insight is a powerful and fascinating read,
particularly for anyone who has a loved one with brain damage...
...or the minority of us who are right dominant.
On a personal note, last year I had applied to the masters program of
my dreams. Among other things I am adapting my lifestyle to prepare
for a rigorous course of study: cutting out activities that are not
essential and creating automatic routines for anything from
remembering my library books to marching in the right place in choir.
It's the stuff that comes automatically to the left brain crowd that
we have to work at. I call it I Have A Plan. My seven question to do
or not to do rubric is an absolute gem. Due to a glitch that is
nobody's fault it looks like I'm aiming for 2018 instead of 2017. I
can really use more time for my program. Plus a graduate
assistantship that would make the most of my considerable talents
comes open in 2018.
Between now and then I am going to work dilligently and
celebrate each and every small bit of progress.
A great big shout out goes out to all who bring us insight into our
amazing brains.
jules hathaway


Sent from my iPod

Tribe

Tribe

Adult nonfiction
"'You'll have to be prepared to say that we are not a good
society--that we are an antihuman society,' anthropologist Sharon
Abramowitz warned when I tried this idea out on her. Abramowitz was
in Ivory Coast as a Peace Corps volunteer during the start of the
civil war in 2002 and experienced firsthand the extremely close bonds
created by hardship and danger. 'We are not good to each other. Our
tribalism is to an extremely narrow group of people: our children,
our spouse, maybe our parents. Our society is alienating, technical,
cold, and mystifying. Our fundamental desire, as human beings, is to
be close to others, and our society does not allow for that.'"
Ah, the blizzard of '98!!! I remember it as if it were
yesterday. My kids were 7, 4, and 11 months old. We woke up one
morning to find everything outside covered by or encased in ice.
School was cancelled for the week. We quickly lost power. We had no
heat. The electric stove wasn't working. (Thank God for Eugene's
camp stove!) Since we were still using a well rather than city water,
the toilet didn't either. You should have seen me going out with my
son in his pack on my back, chipping ice into pots, and melting it on
a camp stove just so we could flush. Eventually we doubled up with
Eugene's brother and his family who had a wood stove. Driving over we
saw all those military people in full emergency handling mode. The
kids and I filled up on junk food and slept on a matress on the floor,
continually hearing the gun shot like crack of frozen tree branches
snapping.
Those were some of the best days of my life!
Sebastian Junger, author of Tribe: On Homecoming and Belonging
would not be surprised by my fondness for that time in my life. He
contends that humans are hard wired to crave belonging, being a part
of a purposefully united community. Life in America is inimical to
this need. Our lone ranger competitive society has us more and more
isolated.
This all comes at a huge cost.
"Bluntly put, modern society seems to emphasize extrinsic values
over intrinsic ones, and as a result mental health issues refuse to
decline with growing wealth. The more assimilated a person is into
American society, the more likely they are to develop depression
during the course of their lifetime, regardless of what ethnicity they
are. Mexicans born in the United States are wealthier than Mexicans
born in Mexico but far more likely to suffer from depression...By
contrast, Amish society has an exceedingly low rate of depression
because, it is theorized, many Amish remain utterly unassimilated into
modern society--to the extent that they won't even drive cars."
In the early years in America's history whites and the tribes
from they stole land often were not on congenial terms. Kidnapping
took place on both sides. Indian children raised as whites escaped to
their own people at the first opportunity. White children, however,
who were raised by natives and recaptured by "their people" also
escaped at the first opportunity. In fact a number of whites ran away
to join up with the Indians. Junger contends that the material
benefits of the white world could not compete with the communal nature
of the native lifestyle.
He also contends that the incidence of post-traumatic stress
disorder in returning vets may have less to do with what they
experienced over there and more with what they return to .
Tribe is a must read for anyone who has wondered if America's
lone ranger, intensely competitive society is really what makes it
"great".
On a personal note, as my kids became more independent I sought ways
to segue to post child raising employment. For a year I studied the
listings of Americorps, seeing this as a bridge to meaningful work.
All their jobs required a valid drivers license. But the commercial
world scared me witless. Belonging and meaningful are my number one
priorities. Not exactly what you get cashiering at WalMart or
flipping burgers in fast food. I can't get those where I reside--
status symbol land AKA Veazie. Fortunately I discovered college
student services as a vocational goal. Helping my favorite
demographic be all they can be among others who share my values? Win
win!
A great big shout out goes out to all who recognize the importance of
community and belonging.
jules hathaway




Sent from my iPod

Stuck Rubber Baby

Stuck Rubber Baby

Mature YA/Adult Graphic Novel
Howard Cruse's Stuck Rubber Baby came out in 1995. I just got
my hands on it, thinking it would be a one night read. Boy, was I
wrong! The depth of this coming of age narrative shows the powerful
potential for combining words and pictures into something much larger
than the sum of the two. I was engaged for several evenings.
On the first page the narrator, Toland, (now older) says
"Looking back, I didn't see all that many dead bodies when I was a kid
growing up down south...". In the top corners two images are
juxtaposed to give the reader an idea when that growing up took
place. On the left President Kennedy and his wife stroll in front of
the White House. On the right police and people with segregationist
signs stand in front of a burning bus. Yep, a lot of the plot
revolves around the struggle for racial justice.
And there is yet another pivotal issue. Toland, though
seriously attracted to other guys, is convinced that with just a
little more effort he can be a socially acceptable heterosexual. At
one point he gets the girl through whom he sees himself getting
redeemed, Ginger, pregnant. She doesn't want motherhood (married or
unmarried) to thwart a musical career. Neither is sure what the right
thing to do is.
The political events and ideas are never strident or stage
stealing. A large cast of complex, individual characters keeps their
feelings and actions pivotal as they deal with the events life hurls
their way...just as we do now.
Toland's sister, Melanie, is a character who would have been
reduced to stereotype in lesser hands. She was married right out of
high school to a guy, Orley, with more conservative views than hers.
But she has a mind of her own. At one point when Toland calls to say
he and a buddy have been arrested she tells Orley to go back to sleep
and heads off to the police station to do whatever it takes to get the
guys out. In one very poignant set of pictures she reacts the news of
Ginger's pregnancy. We learn that after years of desperately trying
to conceive she and Orley are still striking out.
For a target audience I would highly recommend the college and
grad school set, adults, and only the most mature high school
students, not sixth graders. At one point Toland has been assaulted.
Regaining consciousness, stumbling around, he bumps into the feet of
his friend Sammy who has been lynched. I can't imagine 11-year-olds
being ready to deal with that or the ensuing police cover up.
On a personal note, after a stretch of bizarrely warm temps for Maine
in winter we are back to seasonable weather which, coming on the heels
of the tantalizing taste of spring, has people kvetching.
A great big shout out goes out to the UMaine students and faculty who
are now hopefully enjoying spring break.
jules hathaway



Sent from my iPod

The Great Leopard Rescue

The Great Leopard Rescue

Picture book
Recall back in spring 2016 we checked out Sandra Markle's The
Great Monkey Rescue? I just got my hands on her new book, The Great
Leopard Rescue: Saving the Amur Leopards. It is well worth reading.
Amur leopards live mostly in Russia. They are said to be the
rarest of the big cats. Their population has dropped rapidly from the
1950's when there were believed to be 2,400. Not surprisingly habitat
encroachment by humans has taken a big toll. Also people kill
leopards as trophies and hunt the large prey animals they need for
sustenance.
Fortunately as these beautiful, graceful cats came near to
extinction (down to 30 members) people began to notice. The Great
Leopard Rescue tells of all the obstacles people needed (and still
need) to overcome to rescue the species. The story is enthralling.
The pictures are magnificent, especially the adorable cubs. The two
magnificent hunt books make a great way for families to learn about
endangered species and the need to help them survive.
On a personal note, my latest opinion piece came out in the Bangor
Daily News. It was on the need to keep abortion a safe, legal medical
procedure rather than going back to the bad old days of back alley
butchers. It has been well received.
A great big shout out goes out to 1 in 3, an organization that seeks
to destigmatize abortion through the sharing of stories.
jules hathaway


Sent from my iPod

I Don't Like Snakes

I Don't Like Snakes

Picture book
The narrator of Nicola Davies' I Don't Like Snakes has a
problem. Where most families share their homes with dogs, cats, or
birds, her parents and sibling are big fans of her unfavorite
reptiles. They wear them, cuddle them, let them loose all over the
place.
One day she speaks her mind. Her perplexed family asks why.
They're able to address all her concerns until...
You have to read the book to see. It has some really cool
information. Did you know some snakes fly?
With all the arachaphobes in my friends and family I'd like to
see an I Hate Spiders.
On a personal note, back in the late 80's I had a friend who was doing
her doctoral dissertation on fear of snakes. Her research involved
charting children's reactions to snakes at various distances. Her
problem was she was terrified of them. She paid me well to do the
snake handling. Talk about easy money!!!
A great big shout out goes put to the snakes who devour a number of
rodents and other pests and are an important part of the web of life.
jules hathaway



Sent from my iPod

White Trash

White Trash

Adult nonfiction
"The underclass exists even when they don't rise to the level of
making trouble, fomenting rebellions, joining in riots, or fleeing the
ranks of the Confederacy and hiding out in swamps, where they create
an underground economy. Those who do not disappear into the
wilderness are present in the towns and cities and along paved and
unpaved roads in every state. Seeing the poor, whether it is in the
photographs of a Walker Evans or a Dorothea Lange, or in comical form
on 'reality TV,' we have to wonder how such people exist amid plenty.
As she cast her eyes upon southern trailer trash in the middle of
World War II, the Washington Post columnist Agnes Meyer asked, 'Is
this America?'"
When my husband and I moved into a trailer park right before the
birth of our first child I had no idea what we were getting ourselves
into. I just thought it was affordable housing. I assumed that after
the late pregnancy fatigue and armed with an adorable new baby I would
be welcomed into the community. The baby was adorable; the welcome
never happened despite my efforts to make friends. People said things
like, "Your children look so much alike you'd almost think they had
the same father". I've been called trailer park trash to my face.
What hurt the most, though, was how the neighborhood children were, if
not untouchables, unvisitables. I saw the pain and confusion in the
eyes of kids whose best chums from school were not allowed to go to
their sixth birthday party.
Anyone who claims that America is a classless society has never
lived on the proverbial wrong side of the tracks, has never existed in
a town where people think they know all there is to know about you
(all bad) based on one factor, say your address.
Needless to say, one day when I was enjoying the ambiance of one
of my favorite sanctuaries, Orono Public Library, and came across
Nancy Isenberg's White Trash: The 400-Year Untold History of Class in
America (from whence I gleaned the lead quote) I practically heard a
chorus of angels singing the Hallalujah Chorus. There it was in black
and white: 321 pages of scholarly research butressed by over 100 of
end notes. Vindication.
Isenberg starts off by getting readers to look at the classic
movie, To Kill A Mockingbird, in a different way. In her mind there
are not one, but two "disturbing messages." Racism and classism are
on full ugly display. Recall the Ewell family? She then goes on to
give us pictures of white trash images in the real and television
worlds.
"These white trash snapshots offer an incomplete picture of a
problem that is actually quite old and regularly goes unrecognized.
In their conversations about viral events such as those noted above,
Americans lack any deeper appreciation of class. Beyond white anger
and ignorance is a far more complicated history of class identity that
dates back to America's colonial period and British notions of
poverty. In many ways, our class system has hinged on the evolving
political rationales used to dismiss or demonize (or occasionally
redeem) those white rural outcasts seemingly incapable of becoming
part of the mainstream society."
Forget what you've been learning about our nation's beginnings
from those days when you created paper turkeys or played the part of a
Pilgrim in grade school Thanksgiving celebrations. America's alleged
start as classless society is pure myth. England saw the New World as
a convenient dumping ground for her less than desirables: one of four
options that also included death by disease or starvation, execution
for crime, and cannon fodder for foreign wars.
"...On the bottom of the heap were men and women of the poor and
criminal classes. Among those unheroic transplants were rogueish
highwaymen, mean vagrants, Irish rebels, known whores, and an
assortment of convicts shipped to the colonies for grand larceny or
other property crimes, as a reprieve of sorts, to escape the gallows.
Not much better were those who filled the ranks of indentured
servants, who ranged in class position from lowly street urchins to
former artisans burdened with overwhelming debts..."
Hardly sounds like those religious freedom seeking Pilgrims to me.
We think of the Civil War in terms of black and white--skin that
is. We forget that classism is very much a part of the narrative.
Northerners saw a slave economy as debilitating to poor whites as well
as blacks. While the rich were enabled to snatch up and use all the
best land, the poor had to struggle to scratch out a living on less
farmable soil. Southerners, in contrast, saw both blacks and whites
as congenitally inferior. But poor whites were more dangerous. Given
the chance to climb above their station and (heaven forbid!) vote,
they could foment class revolution that would threaten the system
seriously rigged in favor of the wealthy elite. I bet I don't have to
tell you which men were exempt from fighting in the Civil War and
which were forced to serve as cannon fodder.
We've been studying on another less than pretty chapter in
America's classism book. Recall our two books on Buck v. Bell?
Remember Oliver Wendell Holmes declaring that three generations of
imbeciles were enough? Yep, we're back to eugenics. It was believed
nature was not doing enough to ensure survival of the fittest; people
had to step in to make sure those of superior stock outbred lesser
beings, including the poor who were blamed by their poverty, to the
extent of forcibly sterilizing the latter.
That is just a smattering of the content served up in this
fascinating volume. If, like me, you are at least hesitant about
buying into the classless society myth, get on down to your public
library and check it out. Make sure they acquire it if they don't yet
have it.
On a personal note, the Counselling Center up to UMaine put on their
annual carnival early this year, billing it as a cabin fever
reliever. It was, as usual, amazing. There was lots of yummy food.
There were crafts opportunities. There were games and prizes. People
had so much fun! I was given the perfect role for someone with a big
mouth and no fear of conversing with strangers. I got to be the
carnival barker and send people in the right direction. I had a
wonderful time. And all that talking gave me a ravenous thirst for
snow cones.
A great big shout out goes out to the counselling center folks and all
their minions who put a lot of work every year into creating such a
space of fun and enchantment.
jules hathaway


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Friends With Boys

Friends With Boys

YA Graphic novel
Freshperson year in high school can be scary with no other
complications. Imagine if everything in your life is going through
upheaval at the same time. That's the situation Maggie, protagonist
of Faith Erin Hicks' Friends With Boys, is in.
Maggie is not just starting a new school. It's her first
official school. She learns at breakfast that the mother who took 17
years to homeschool her and her brothers has celebrated by leaving the
family. Her brothers leave her on her own to sink or swim. She's
always relied on them for friendship, never needing friends outside
her family.
Oh, yeah, and Maggie is being stalked--not by a flesh and blood
boy, but by a ghost from another century.
Anyone who has had a lot of changes piled on at the same time
will find Friends With Boys to be a must read.
On a personal note, activeminds, a UMaine group that works to
destigmatize mental illness, put on a very powerful presentation. It
was called Mental Health Monologues. People who have had to cope with
challenges such as anxiety, depression, and bipolar disorder shared
their intimate personal stories. It was in a huge auditorium and the
place was packed. People were so moved. I predict it will become an
annual production.
A great big shout out goes out to the amazing beautiful people who
took the huge risks of sharing their stories.
jules hathaway



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Extrardinary Ordinary People

Extrardinary Ordinary People

Adult Biography
"I can remember coming from my grandparents' one night. We'd
just gotten out of the car when we heard a loud blast down the
street. In Birmingham that spring nobody had to think twice: a bomb
had exploded in the neighborhood..."
I think most of us can imagine how scary it would be to be a
little kid so familiar with the sound of bombs you'd recognize it
right away. And how about raising a child in such an atmosphere of
fear and peril ? In the same paragraph the father says he is going to
the police. The mother asks him if he's crazy, adding that they
probably set the bomb.
HOLY COW!
The residential neighborhood/war zone was in Birmingham,
Alabama. The year was 1963. The narrator is none other than
Condeleezza Rice, the first black woman to serve as Secretary of
State. Her Extraordinary Ordinary People: A Memoir Of Family gives us
an intimate look at her growing and early professional years and the
people who were both her roots tying her to family and community and
the wind beneath her wings.
I am not a Republican. I ditched the Democrats when the DNC
played dirty to get Mrs. Clinton nominated instead of Bernie. But I
could not put the book down. Seeing the personal side of someone I'd
only read about in the newspapers gave me quite a few insights I
otherwise would have missed out on.
One case in particular was concerning her staunch defense of the
right to bear arms. During part of Rice's childhood her father and
the other men on her street had to sit vigils at night to protect
their homes and families from violent whites. "...Had my father and
our neighbors registered their weapons, Bull Connor surely would have
confiscated them or worse. The Constitution speaks of the right to a
well-regulated militia. The inspiration for this was the Founding
Fathers' fear of the government. They had insisted that citizens had
the right to protect themselves when the authorities would not and, if
necessary, resist the authorities themselves..."
She did not change my mind on the subject. But she made me
think. A book that can do that, in my mind, is well worth reading.
On a personal note, last week Real Food Challenge teamed up with
Nutrition Club and other food and agriculture related groups to table
together. We were in a room in the Union. The set up was dismayingly
similar to an event we had earlier in the semester when hardly anyone
came. I didn't want a rerun. I asked the groups if they wanted me to
go in the hall and send people their way. People were psyched. They
told me to emphasize the free food. We had good stuff. People
responded very well to my greet and guide. The joint was jumping and
people thanked me for letting them in on the fun. It just goes to
show sometimes a big mouth can be a very good thing.
A great big shout out goes out to all the groups who participated and
the people who took the time to check us out.
jules hathaway


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