Silent Days, Silent Dreams
Picture book
Allan Say's Silent Days, Silent Dreams is one of those picture
books that will be of more interest to an older demographic than to
the story time set. In fact, it will resonate most with adults,
especially artists and teachers of children with disabilities. It's
the story of an enormously gifted boy who was unfortunately born
decades before the concept of free and appropriate public education
for children with disabilities.
James was deaf, mute, autistic, and probably dyslexic. Somehow
he taught himself to draw on scraps of paper his parents gave him.
School was a nightmare for him. On the farm he got in everybody's
way. A boarding school for the deaf decided he was ineducable.
But he persisted with his drawings--working with matchsticks and
soot mixed with water.
Despite all odds, his work was discovered before he died.
I think this fine book can tell us that even people with severe
disabilities can have hidden strengths.
On a personal note, this week I have serious work hours. I'm thinking
if August keeps up like this I may be able to afford not only tuition
and textbooks, but a trip to Portland to celebrate my birthday with
Katie, Jacob, and Archie cat. I've been so good this summer money
wise! One $46 round trip ticket isn't exactly splurging.
Most of my hours are at Wells. So, unlike most years, I don't mind
missing the Bangor State Fair. Who needs a fair when you can work for
Anna McDormand?
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Monday, July 30, 2018
Before She Was Harriet
Before She Was Harriet
Juvenile herstory
Normally, whether thinking of famous people or distant
relatives, we picture them as their oldest selves and find it hard to
imagine younger incarnations. I knew my mother's aunts as proper,
feeble ladies until I saw the house where they grew up. That is why
the unusual format of Lisa Cline Ransome's Before She Was Harriet
works so well.
Younger readers/listeners first meet Tubman at the end of her
life. A series of befores shows her as a suffragist, a Union spy, an
underground railroad conductor...all the way back to a little girl
named Araminta.
The poetry narrative sings. I especially like:
"a wisp of a woman
with the courage
of a lion."
Illustrations beautifully complement the text.
I consider this fine book to be a must acquire for school and
public libraries.
On a personal note, Eugene and I had a fine 29th anniversary Sunday.
We went riding, stopping at yard sales and Goodwill. He got me a cat
shirt. We ate lunch at Mickey D's. Fun times! The night before
someone in the neighborhood had a beautiful fireworks display. Talk
about great timing!
A great big shout out goes out to Eugene with whom I want to spend
many more years.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Juvenile herstory
Normally, whether thinking of famous people or distant
relatives, we picture them as their oldest selves and find it hard to
imagine younger incarnations. I knew my mother's aunts as proper,
feeble ladies until I saw the house where they grew up. That is why
the unusual format of Lisa Cline Ransome's Before She Was Harriet
works so well.
Younger readers/listeners first meet Tubman at the end of her
life. A series of befores shows her as a suffragist, a Union spy, an
underground railroad conductor...all the way back to a little girl
named Araminta.
The poetry narrative sings. I especially like:
"a wisp of a woman
with the courage
of a lion."
Illustrations beautifully complement the text.
I consider this fine book to be a must acquire for school and
public libraries.
On a personal note, Eugene and I had a fine 29th anniversary Sunday.
We went riding, stopping at yard sales and Goodwill. He got me a cat
shirt. We ate lunch at Mickey D's. Fun times! The night before
someone in the neighborhood had a beautiful fireworks display. Talk
about great timing!
A great big shout out goes out to Eugene with whom I want to spend
many more years.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Saturday, July 28, 2018
When Everything Changed
When Everything Changed
Adult Herstory
"On a steamy morning in the summer of 1960, Lois Rabinowitz, a
28-year-old secretary for an oil-company executive, unwittingly became
the feature story of the day in New York City when she went down to
traffic court to pay her boss's speeding ticket. Wearing neatly
pressed slacks and a blouse, Lois hitched a ride to the courthouse
with her husband of two weeks, Irving. In traffic court Magistrate
Edward D. Caiazzo was presiding.
When Lois approached the bench, the magistrate exploded in
outrage. "Do you appreciate you're in a courtroom in slacks?" he
demanded and sent her home to put on more appropriate clothes..."
Fortunately Irving (whose attire was not described) was able to
handle the transaction for Lois. The judge warned him to "stomp down
a little or it will be too late." From his reaction you'd think Lois
was strutting a g string. My very conservative, sedate widowed
housewife septegenarian mother-in-law wears slacks and blouses
everywhere she goes. Gail Collins, author of When Everything Changed
(the above quote leads off the introduction) comments that men wearing
sweatshirts and overalls weren't considered to be disrespecting the
judicial system through improper attire.
When Everything Changed is an excellent book for feminists and
allies. In a lively blend of scholarship and narrative, it provides a
difinitive herstory of five decades. Readers will explore facets such
as:
*the shift from the post war glorification of the wife/mother in
suburbia to women's participation in the workforce, including in
professions formerly reserved for men;
*legislative struggles to create more equality;
*changing sexual behavior and how contraceptives (including the pill)
and legalized abortion facilitated this;
*changes in child care and education;
and so much more.
I was taken aback by much of what I read and I lived through
those years. I believe When Everything Changed is an even more
crucial read for my daughters' generation. It can leave them with
renewed respect for the progress that has been made and inspiration to
keep participating in the struggle that's far from over.
On a personal note, this past week there was a tragedy at UMaine. A
freshperson athlete who had worked very hard to get where he was
collapsed and died during a practice. I feel very badly for the boy
who had so much to look forward and to his parents. Can you imagine
sending your child off for what should have been a wonderful life
chapter only to get that phone call? If you are a parent show your
child(ren) in some way how much you love him/her/them and be grateful
that you can.
My thoughts and prayers go out to that poor family.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Adult Herstory
"On a steamy morning in the summer of 1960, Lois Rabinowitz, a
28-year-old secretary for an oil-company executive, unwittingly became
the feature story of the day in New York City when she went down to
traffic court to pay her boss's speeding ticket. Wearing neatly
pressed slacks and a blouse, Lois hitched a ride to the courthouse
with her husband of two weeks, Irving. In traffic court Magistrate
Edward D. Caiazzo was presiding.
When Lois approached the bench, the magistrate exploded in
outrage. "Do you appreciate you're in a courtroom in slacks?" he
demanded and sent her home to put on more appropriate clothes..."
Fortunately Irving (whose attire was not described) was able to
handle the transaction for Lois. The judge warned him to "stomp down
a little or it will be too late." From his reaction you'd think Lois
was strutting a g string. My very conservative, sedate widowed
housewife septegenarian mother-in-law wears slacks and blouses
everywhere she goes. Gail Collins, author of When Everything Changed
(the above quote leads off the introduction) comments that men wearing
sweatshirts and overalls weren't considered to be disrespecting the
judicial system through improper attire.
When Everything Changed is an excellent book for feminists and
allies. In a lively blend of scholarship and narrative, it provides a
difinitive herstory of five decades. Readers will explore facets such
as:
*the shift from the post war glorification of the wife/mother in
suburbia to women's participation in the workforce, including in
professions formerly reserved for men;
*legislative struggles to create more equality;
*changing sexual behavior and how contraceptives (including the pill)
and legalized abortion facilitated this;
*changes in child care and education;
and so much more.
I was taken aback by much of what I read and I lived through
those years. I believe When Everything Changed is an even more
crucial read for my daughters' generation. It can leave them with
renewed respect for the progress that has been made and inspiration to
keep participating in the struggle that's far from over.
On a personal note, this past week there was a tragedy at UMaine. A
freshperson athlete who had worked very hard to get where he was
collapsed and died during a practice. I feel very badly for the boy
who had so much to look forward and to his parents. Can you imagine
sending your child off for what should have been a wonderful life
chapter only to get that phone call? If you are a parent show your
child(ren) in some way how much you love him/her/them and be grateful
that you can.
My thoughts and prayers go out to that poor family.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Thursday, July 26, 2018
Red & Lulu
Red & Lulu
Picture Book
In spiration can come in very small sizes. Matt Tavares
resolved to write about a pair of cardinals who frequently visited his
yard. One year his agent found a winged stowaway in her family's
Christmas tree. Red & Lulu is a joyous story that will warm the
hearts of parent and child alike.
Red and Lulu live happily in an evergreen tree. It keeps them
cool in the summer but sheltered from chill winds in cooler seasons.
They especially love the decorations and carolling of Christmas.
One sad day Red comes home from a food hunting foray to find the
tree with Lulu in it chopped down and lashed to a truck...
...which then drives away. Red chirps that he'll follow. Only
it's a long journey for such a little bird. After awhile the truck is
out of sight...
...only you know the book isn't going to end on such a sad
note. You'll never guess where they'll meet up!
On a personal note, my favorite cardinal memory is of an early morning
in February, a Valentines Day to be exact. We were in the calm
following a really wild snow storm. Eugene had worked 32 hours
plowing. He'd just used his company backhoe to plow out our
driveway. I went out to shovel the steps so he could get in the
house. Just as I was about to go in myself and start fixing him a
much deserved hot breakfast I looked up into the branches of a tree
that started to grow the year my Katie was born. There, brilliant
against the grey sky, was a cardinal. She (genders are colored
differently) seemed to be the perfect day for a Valentines Day that
would be romantic after all.
A great big shout out goes out to all who study and work to protect
out feathered friends in the tradition of the great Rachel Carson.
Special kudos to the dedicated bird counters who help scientists get
important information on issues like changes in population and
migration.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Picture Book
In spiration can come in very small sizes. Matt Tavares
resolved to write about a pair of cardinals who frequently visited his
yard. One year his agent found a winged stowaway in her family's
Christmas tree. Red & Lulu is a joyous story that will warm the
hearts of parent and child alike.
Red and Lulu live happily in an evergreen tree. It keeps them
cool in the summer but sheltered from chill winds in cooler seasons.
They especially love the decorations and carolling of Christmas.
One sad day Red comes home from a food hunting foray to find the
tree with Lulu in it chopped down and lashed to a truck...
...which then drives away. Red chirps that he'll follow. Only
it's a long journey for such a little bird. After awhile the truck is
out of sight...
...only you know the book isn't going to end on such a sad
note. You'll never guess where they'll meet up!
On a personal note, my favorite cardinal memory is of an early morning
in February, a Valentines Day to be exact. We were in the calm
following a really wild snow storm. Eugene had worked 32 hours
plowing. He'd just used his company backhoe to plow out our
driveway. I went out to shovel the steps so he could get in the
house. Just as I was about to go in myself and start fixing him a
much deserved hot breakfast I looked up into the branches of a tree
that started to grow the year my Katie was born. There, brilliant
against the grey sky, was a cardinal. She (genders are colored
differently) seemed to be the perfect day for a Valentines Day that
would be romantic after all.
A great big shout out goes out to all who study and work to protect
out feathered friends in the tradition of the great Rachel Carson.
Special kudos to the dedicated bird counters who help scientists get
important information on issues like changes in population and
migration.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Small Walt
Small Walt
Picture book
Fans of The Little Engine That Could and children who are on the
short side will really love Elizabeth Verdick's Small Walt.
It's a cold, stormy night. The city plows stand waiting for
drivers. Walt, the runt of the litter, is chosen first. But:
"My name is Walt.
I plow and salt.
They say I'm small.
I'll show them all."
And he certainly does.
The lively upbeat narrative and machine sounds make Small Walt
an ideal any time read aloud. But come winter this charming book may
inspire kids to get outside and help parents shovel snow, turning
boring chore into quality time.
On a personal note, I can identify with Walt's desire to show them
all. Because of my size people have a habit of underestimating my
strength and stamina.
A great big shout out goes out to my fellow shorties.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Picture book
Fans of The Little Engine That Could and children who are on the
short side will really love Elizabeth Verdick's Small Walt.
It's a cold, stormy night. The city plows stand waiting for
drivers. Walt, the runt of the litter, is chosen first. But:
"My name is Walt.
I plow and salt.
They say I'm small.
I'll show them all."
And he certainly does.
The lively upbeat narrative and machine sounds make Small Walt
an ideal any time read aloud. But come winter this charming book may
inspire kids to get outside and help parents shovel snow, turning
boring chore into quality time.
On a personal note, I can identify with Walt's desire to show them
all. Because of my size people have a habit of underestimating my
strength and stamina.
A great big shout out goes out to my fellow shorties.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
That Is My Dream
That Is My Dream
Picture book
Some of today's picture books do nothing less than take one's
breath away. That Is My Dream with text by Langston Hughes and
illustrations by Daniel Miyares is a perfect example.
Hughes was one of the most important writers of the Harlem
Renaissance. In 1926 his first book, The Weary Blues, was published.
It included a poem titled Dream Variation. Decades later, as a teen
growing up in South Carolina, Miyares encountered and was hugely
impressed by Hughes' poetry. "...His work showed me a version of the
American experience I had never seen before, and I was profoundly
moved. For the first time, I understood the raw power of poetry--its
ability to peel back a facade and reveal deep truths that may be hard
for us to see."
A little boy goes through a day in a segregated community. He
and his mom and sister have really different experiences than a white
family. You can see from the pictures that the children are curious
about each other.
The next part of the book shows what the boy wishes for: a
world in which the children come together "freely and joyously."
On a personal note, step by step I'm getting closer to my dream. It
still hasn't really sunk in that I will start classes--even though
it's in just weeks.
A great big shout out goes out to the other students and professors
who soon will be part of my world.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Picture book
Some of today's picture books do nothing less than take one's
breath away. That Is My Dream with text by Langston Hughes and
illustrations by Daniel Miyares is a perfect example.
Hughes was one of the most important writers of the Harlem
Renaissance. In 1926 his first book, The Weary Blues, was published.
It included a poem titled Dream Variation. Decades later, as a teen
growing up in South Carolina, Miyares encountered and was hugely
impressed by Hughes' poetry. "...His work showed me a version of the
American experience I had never seen before, and I was profoundly
moved. For the first time, I understood the raw power of poetry--its
ability to peel back a facade and reveal deep truths that may be hard
for us to see."
A little boy goes through a day in a segregated community. He
and his mom and sister have really different experiences than a white
family. You can see from the pictures that the children are curious
about each other.
The next part of the book shows what the boy wishes for: a
world in which the children come together "freely and joyously."
On a personal note, step by step I'm getting closer to my dream. It
still hasn't really sunk in that I will start classes--even though
it's in just weeks.
A great big shout out goes out to the other students and professors
who soon will be part of my world.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Tuesday, July 24, 2018
1920
1920
Adult nonfiction
"It was the first full year after the Treaty of Versailles had
officially ended the Great War, and Americans were not as relieved as
they had hoped to be. They were joyful, of course, but at other times
saddened; optimist, but no less confused, enthusiastic, yet unable to
escape a certain sense of dread. It is neither easy nor usual to hold
such conflicting emotions at the same time; then again, the year was
neither easy nor usual."
It took him about a year, but President Trump finally said
something I can agree with: he's taking America back...
...what I would add is, to the 1920's. If you've read my blog
for any length of time, you know I don't consider that America's
finest decade. We had the grossly widening gap between rich and poor
and the irresponsible financial shenanigans that plunged the nation
into the Great Depression. J. Edgar Hoover and his chums were fueling
paranoia about anarchists and socialists. The resurrected KKK had
gone mainstream adding country fairs to their cross burning activities
and winning over fundamentalist ministers and congregations. There
was a great fear that America's past greatness was being swept away in
a tide of mediocracy. Solutions for making America great again
focussed on drastically restricting immigration of all but Anglo and
Nordic types (as opposed to folks from "shit hole" nations) and
forcibly sterilizing "reprehensibles." (Your faithful reviewer BTW
would have been sterilized for having epilepsy.)
You see where I'm going with this? Those iconic flappers we
imagine when we think of the 1930's were only the tip of the
proverbial iceberg.
Eric Burns' 1920: The Year That Made The Decade Roar is a must
read for those who find the 20's as fascinating and prophetic as I
do. In his introduction Burns tells us "...But although the year that
is the subject of this book was a preview of a decade, it turned out
to be more than that: it would be a preview of the entire century and
even the beginning of the century to follow, the one in which we live
today..." His work lives up perfectly to the promise of that
sentence. He addresses the many complexities of the year in
straightforward very readable narrative.
Readers will get insights into facets such as how:
*the new mass media dumbed down its audiences while increasing
fearfulness with its if it bleeds it leads focus;
*a Wall Street explosion and its interpretation by Hoover and
colleagues fueled paranoia concerning socialists and anarchists;
*the Eighteenth and Nineteenth Amendments to the Constitution went in
very different directions;
*the people who created the large, prosperous corporations that
constituted the nation's wealth destroyed their workers;
and *so much more.
On a personal note, my friend and mentor, Lisa Morin, reminded me in
about 6 weeks I'll be starting my masters program. Somehow it does
not seem real. It may not until school actually starts. I'm glad I'm
having the chance to get good at my job so I won't have to learn it
the same time I'm getting used to masters level work.
A great big shout out goes out to students about to embark on exciting
and scary new education phases.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Adult nonfiction
"It was the first full year after the Treaty of Versailles had
officially ended the Great War, and Americans were not as relieved as
they had hoped to be. They were joyful, of course, but at other times
saddened; optimist, but no less confused, enthusiastic, yet unable to
escape a certain sense of dread. It is neither easy nor usual to hold
such conflicting emotions at the same time; then again, the year was
neither easy nor usual."
It took him about a year, but President Trump finally said
something I can agree with: he's taking America back...
...what I would add is, to the 1920's. If you've read my blog
for any length of time, you know I don't consider that America's
finest decade. We had the grossly widening gap between rich and poor
and the irresponsible financial shenanigans that plunged the nation
into the Great Depression. J. Edgar Hoover and his chums were fueling
paranoia about anarchists and socialists. The resurrected KKK had
gone mainstream adding country fairs to their cross burning activities
and winning over fundamentalist ministers and congregations. There
was a great fear that America's past greatness was being swept away in
a tide of mediocracy. Solutions for making America great again
focussed on drastically restricting immigration of all but Anglo and
Nordic types (as opposed to folks from "shit hole" nations) and
forcibly sterilizing "reprehensibles." (Your faithful reviewer BTW
would have been sterilized for having epilepsy.)
You see where I'm going with this? Those iconic flappers we
imagine when we think of the 1930's were only the tip of the
proverbial iceberg.
Eric Burns' 1920: The Year That Made The Decade Roar is a must
read for those who find the 20's as fascinating and prophetic as I
do. In his introduction Burns tells us "...But although the year that
is the subject of this book was a preview of a decade, it turned out
to be more than that: it would be a preview of the entire century and
even the beginning of the century to follow, the one in which we live
today..." His work lives up perfectly to the promise of that
sentence. He addresses the many complexities of the year in
straightforward very readable narrative.
Readers will get insights into facets such as how:
*the new mass media dumbed down its audiences while increasing
fearfulness with its if it bleeds it leads focus;
*a Wall Street explosion and its interpretation by Hoover and
colleagues fueled paranoia concerning socialists and anarchists;
*the Eighteenth and Nineteenth Amendments to the Constitution went in
very different directions;
*the people who created the large, prosperous corporations that
constituted the nation's wealth destroyed their workers;
and *so much more.
On a personal note, my friend and mentor, Lisa Morin, reminded me in
about 6 weeks I'll be starting my masters program. Somehow it does
not seem real. It may not until school actually starts. I'm glad I'm
having the chance to get good at my job so I won't have to learn it
the same time I'm getting used to masters level work.
A great big shout out goes out to students about to embark on exciting
and scary new education phases.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Sunday, July 22, 2018
Back story: I realize this might make the personal note in my last post more understandable. My undergrad college was so small we had one cafeteria. I had a dining services student job my first year. The school heavily promoted men's sports while hardly mentioning women's. Early on I noticed a locked booth in the cafeteria. A supervisor told me it was a PA system for the cafeteria which no one used. The next supper I didn't work I asked for the key and got it no questions asked. I made an enthusiastic promotion of the women's teams next events. I didn't get in trouble. People (including admin) wanted me to keep it up. My economics prof had me do stand ups at the beginning of class. My nickname was Big E and women's teams would chant "Win one for the Big E" I kid you not. One field hockey player scored 4 goals on my birthday. Spring of my first year I went in the cafeteria and saw posters telling people to vote for me for class president. I was sure I was in trouble because I hadn't collected signatures. The softball team had. I won the election. I ended up being the only candidate. One rival dropped out and campaigned for me because she thought I'd do a better job. Again I kid you not. When we learned the news she came over to take me to the Snack Shack to celebrate and find out how she could help me. Sorry if that's lengthy for a back story.
Back story: I realize this might make the personal note in my last
post more understandable. My undergrad college was so small we had
one cafeteria. I had a dining services student job my first year.
The school heavily promoted men's sports while hardly mentioning
women's. Early on I noticed a locked booth in the cafeteria. A
supervisor told me it was a PA system for the cafeteria which no one
used. The next supper I didn't work I asked for the key and got it no
questions asked. I made an enthusiastic promotion of the women's
teams next events. I didn't get in trouble. People (including admin)
wanted me to keep it up. My economics prof had me do stand ups at the
beginning of class. My nickname was Big E and women's teams would
chant "Win one for the Big E" I kid you not. One field hockey player
scored 4 goals on my birthday. Spring of my first year I went in the
cafeteria and saw posters telling people to vote for me for class
president. I was sure I was in trouble because I hadn't collected
signatures. The softball team had. I won the election. I ended up
being the only candidate. One rival dropped out and campaigned for me
because she thought I'd do a better job. Again I kid you not. When
we learned the news she came over to take me to the Snack Shack to
celebrate and find out how she could help me. Sorry if that's lengthy
for a back story.
Sent from my iPod
post more understandable. My undergrad college was so small we had
one cafeteria. I had a dining services student job my first year.
The school heavily promoted men's sports while hardly mentioning
women's. Early on I noticed a locked booth in the cafeteria. A
supervisor told me it was a PA system for the cafeteria which no one
used. The next supper I didn't work I asked for the key and got it no
questions asked. I made an enthusiastic promotion of the women's
teams next events. I didn't get in trouble. People (including admin)
wanted me to keep it up. My economics prof had me do stand ups at the
beginning of class. My nickname was Big E and women's teams would
chant "Win one for the Big E" I kid you not. One field hockey player
scored 4 goals on my birthday. Spring of my first year I went in the
cafeteria and saw posters telling people to vote for me for class
president. I was sure I was in trouble because I hadn't collected
signatures. The softball team had. I won the election. I ended up
being the only candidate. One rival dropped out and campaigned for me
because she thought I'd do a better job. Again I kid you not. When
we learned the news she came over to take me to the Snack Shack to
celebrate and find out how she could help me. Sorry if that's lengthy
for a back story.
Sent from my iPod
Waiting For Pumpsie
Waiting For Pumpsie
Picture book
Here's something I didn't know. I bet it will surprise you.
The Red Sox did not sign their first black player until twelve years
after Jackie Robinson broke the color barrier for the Brooklyn
Dodgers. If you didn't know this you might want to read Barry
Wittenstein's Waiting For Pumpsie.
The year is 1959. Bernard, Wittenstein's protagonist, is
growing in a Red Sox fan family. He wonders why their favorite team
has no black players. His parents tell him change is coming.
But when?
The Red Sox are in a real slump. People are beginning to
realize a winning team may be more important than an all white team.
Waiting For Pumpsie is a slice of black history guaranteed to
appeal to sports loving kids and families.
On a personal note, I felt really proud Friday. I got compliments
from two of my supervisors, Matthew and Gordon. I do not automatically
respect them because of where they are in the hierarchy. (There are
people a lot higher up in America I have nothing but contempt for).
It's because of the way they get work done while respecting people's
personhood and dignity that wins me over. Matthew and I talked about
the importance, where we have so many people at impressionable ages
(little sports campers through college students) eating with us, of
modelling positive ways of interaction in a world that too often
models anything but. I mentioned that in the dining room one of my
goals is to model kindness for our diners. He said I do a good job of
it. :-). Later I thanked Gordon for not micromanaging me. I can't
deal with micromanaging. He told me I do a good job; I don't need
micromanaging. :). Compliments differ in their value. Some people
just toss them out without really meaning them. Some people use them
as a way to get what they want--like the male athletes in my undergrad
college telling me I was looking good or sexy to get me to promote
their teams the way I did the women's. (They were cured of that bad
habit after I flew a ringleader's BVDs on the school flagpole with a
sign saying whose they were. I only resorted to that when my words
did not work.) My gold standard is those earned from people of
integrity.
A great big shout out goes to Matthew and Gordon.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Picture book
Here's something I didn't know. I bet it will surprise you.
The Red Sox did not sign their first black player until twelve years
after Jackie Robinson broke the color barrier for the Brooklyn
Dodgers. If you didn't know this you might want to read Barry
Wittenstein's Waiting For Pumpsie.
The year is 1959. Bernard, Wittenstein's protagonist, is
growing in a Red Sox fan family. He wonders why their favorite team
has no black players. His parents tell him change is coming.
But when?
The Red Sox are in a real slump. People are beginning to
realize a winning team may be more important than an all white team.
Waiting For Pumpsie is a slice of black history guaranteed to
appeal to sports loving kids and families.
On a personal note, I felt really proud Friday. I got compliments
from two of my supervisors, Matthew and Gordon. I do not automatically
respect them because of where they are in the hierarchy. (There are
people a lot higher up in America I have nothing but contempt for).
It's because of the way they get work done while respecting people's
personhood and dignity that wins me over. Matthew and I talked about
the importance, where we have so many people at impressionable ages
(little sports campers through college students) eating with us, of
modelling positive ways of interaction in a world that too often
models anything but. I mentioned that in the dining room one of my
goals is to model kindness for our diners. He said I do a good job of
it. :-). Later I thanked Gordon for not micromanaging me. I can't
deal with micromanaging. He told me I do a good job; I don't need
micromanaging. :). Compliments differ in their value. Some people
just toss them out without really meaning them. Some people use them
as a way to get what they want--like the male athletes in my undergrad
college telling me I was looking good or sexy to get me to promote
their teams the way I did the women's. (They were cured of that bad
habit after I flew a ringleader's BVDs on the school flagpole with a
sign saying whose they were. I only resorted to that when my words
did not work.) My gold standard is those earned from people of
integrity.
A great big shout out goes to Matthew and Gordon.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Rain School
Rain School
Picture book
In America we take so much in our schools for granted. We
forget that things like school lunches, textbooks, indoor plumbing,
and even running water and electricity are unavailable to so many
students and teachers around the world. James Rumford's Rain School
is a real eye opener.
In Chad, a country in Africa, it's the first day of school.
Thomas is excited to be joining the big brothers and sisters. He is
in for a surprise. The first task awaiting the students and teacher
is making mud bricks and building themselves a school. Because of the
rainy season this must be done each and every year.
I think Rain School is a good addition to school and public
libraries. It can start kids and parents thinking about what exactly
is a school.
On a personal note, I hit a very special point this week. I passed
the half way point toward this semester's tuition. It's in the credit
union. Of course I've put every cent of my paychecks in. There's
also money from collecting bottles and cans and cashing them in. And
I'm in the process of depositing $224 in quarters. I'd been saving
quarters in a lovely UMaine Black Bear bank that I got in the thrift
shop for a dollar for two years just to see how much it would hold.
I've got a little less than a month to get the rest together on time.
To paraphrase Bob the Builder: Can I make it? YES, I CAN!!!
A great big shout out goes out to Anna McDormand who hired me. If she
hadn't there's no way I'd be in such good fiscal shape. I'm doing my
best to make sure she never has a reason to regret that decision.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Picture book
In America we take so much in our schools for granted. We
forget that things like school lunches, textbooks, indoor plumbing,
and even running water and electricity are unavailable to so many
students and teachers around the world. James Rumford's Rain School
is a real eye opener.
In Chad, a country in Africa, it's the first day of school.
Thomas is excited to be joining the big brothers and sisters. He is
in for a surprise. The first task awaiting the students and teacher
is making mud bricks and building themselves a school. Because of the
rainy season this must be done each and every year.
I think Rain School is a good addition to school and public
libraries. It can start kids and parents thinking about what exactly
is a school.
On a personal note, I hit a very special point this week. I passed
the half way point toward this semester's tuition. It's in the credit
union. Of course I've put every cent of my paychecks in. There's
also money from collecting bottles and cans and cashing them in. And
I'm in the process of depositing $224 in quarters. I'd been saving
quarters in a lovely UMaine Black Bear bank that I got in the thrift
shop for a dollar for two years just to see how much it would hold.
I've got a little less than a month to get the rest together on time.
To paraphrase Bob the Builder: Can I make it? YES, I CAN!!!
A great big shout out goes out to Anna McDormand who hired me. If she
hadn't there's no way I'd be in such good fiscal shape. I'm doing my
best to make sure she never has a reason to regret that decision.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
The One Day House
The One Day House
Picture book
Julia Durango's The One Day House is a vibrant, inspiring
celebration of community.
Wilson can think of so many things he wants to do for his
neighbor, Gigi: fix her windows, build her a fence, repair her stairs
or chimney... It's too much for one kid. But he's pulled a phone
number tab from a poster that says, "Fix a neighbor's home together."
And one day it all comes together.
Early on in America, communities came together to help members.
Barn raisings, quilting bees, and cornhuskings were also social events
that built solidarity. With today's increased isolation, we seem to
need a super catastrophe (hurricane, ice storm etc) to pull us oh so
temporarily out of our insular shells. Why not help each other with
the more regular challenges of life and build friendships and
celebrate life in the process.
I recommend that families read this book and think about or
physically walk around their neighborhoods. What are some needs they
can help meet? How can they help grow community one project at a time?
Back in my teen years, following a snow storm, my father's
girlfriend's son and I decided to shovel snow for free. There were
several handicapped people and a hugely pregnant woman in my father's
neighborhood. People were so happy to receive this help! They kept
inviting us in for cocoa and cookies.
When I was a stay at home mother I helped moms who worked
outside their homes with free child care for sick kids or kids who
would be home alone on, say, a snow day. I had a lawyer friend who
would be up in Augusta when her son would get sick at school. My
picking him up when she couldn't bought her piece of mind.
On a personal note, my latest opinion piece came out in the Bangor
Daily News Friday. Again I got the center piece with the cartoon. I
feel so proud to have a strong voice and the opportunity to have it
heard.
A great big shout out goes out to my readers and my editor.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Picture book
Julia Durango's The One Day House is a vibrant, inspiring
celebration of community.
Wilson can think of so many things he wants to do for his
neighbor, Gigi: fix her windows, build her a fence, repair her stairs
or chimney... It's too much for one kid. But he's pulled a phone
number tab from a poster that says, "Fix a neighbor's home together."
And one day it all comes together.
Early on in America, communities came together to help members.
Barn raisings, quilting bees, and cornhuskings were also social events
that built solidarity. With today's increased isolation, we seem to
need a super catastrophe (hurricane, ice storm etc) to pull us oh so
temporarily out of our insular shells. Why not help each other with
the more regular challenges of life and build friendships and
celebrate life in the process.
I recommend that families read this book and think about or
physically walk around their neighborhoods. What are some needs they
can help meet? How can they help grow community one project at a time?
Back in my teen years, following a snow storm, my father's
girlfriend's son and I decided to shovel snow for free. There were
several handicapped people and a hugely pregnant woman in my father's
neighborhood. People were so happy to receive this help! They kept
inviting us in for cocoa and cookies.
When I was a stay at home mother I helped moms who worked
outside their homes with free child care for sick kids or kids who
would be home alone on, say, a snow day. I had a lawyer friend who
would be up in Augusta when her son would get sick at school. My
picking him up when she couldn't bought her piece of mind.
On a personal note, my latest opinion piece came out in the Bangor
Daily News Friday. Again I got the center piece with the cartoon. I
feel so proud to have a strong voice and the opportunity to have it
heard.
A great big shout out goes out to my readers and my editor.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Friday, July 20, 2018
Wonder Women
Wonder Women
Adult nonfiction
"It wasn't supposed to be so hard. Like many women of my so-
called postfeminist generation, I was raised to believe that women
were finally poised to be equal with men. That women, after centuries
of oppression, exploitation, and other unnamed bad things, could now
behave more or less like men. We could have sex whenever we wanted,
children whenever we chose, and career options that stretched to
infinity. The first woman astronaut? Of course. The first woman
president? Why not? This had been the era, after all, when Barbie
ditched the closeted Ken for careers in medicine and firefighting...
But somewhere, somehow, the reality shifted, and instead of lacy
strings I was struggling with a nursing bra that defied all notions of
femininity and a blouse that refused to close fully over it. I had a
five-week-old baby at home, a three-year-old who hadn't realized quite
what had befallen him, and a plane to catch to Michigan. What
happened to Barbie's breast pump? And why wasn't it working for me?"
In the prologue of her Wonder Women: Sex, Power, & The Quest
For Perfection, Debora L. Spar describes an epiphany she had in 1992.
Sleep deprived, on a layover between planes, pumping breast milk in a
public bathroom stall, she realized that she had it all. Only the
balancing act she lived was a lot more difficult than she'd ever
imagined. Luckily for us, she went on to distill years of experience
and research into Wonder Women.
Growing Up, Spar never considered herself a feminist. In her
mind, they were shrill, man-hating, hairy legged, and perpetually
angry--all of which she wasn't. Instead she was enchanted by the main
character of a Charlie perfume ad: "...She had long, bouncy hair, a
form fitting blue suit, and a pair of stiletto heels. From one hand
dangled a briefcase; from the other, a small, equally beautiful child,
who gazed adoringly at her mom as they skipped along..."
She could have it all just as the Charlie ad implied.
Somewhere along the way having it all became having too much for
Spar and a lot of women. Her analysis of why (hint: it involves the
quest for perfection in all facets of life) and what we can do to
achieve a more sane, human life style make Wonder Women a must read
for feminists and allies.
On a personal note, I never did aspire to have it all at the same
time. I stayed home with my children. I worked out of the home,
first running a typing service and then doing free lance writing. It
was a challenge finding a way to get back on track when they left
home. But I start grad school in September. I got my first semester
bill a couple of days ago. It's due August 15. It won't be easy to
pay on time. But if I work all the shifts I can get and am lucky
finding bottles and cans to cash in I can do it. One of my favorite
sayings right now is "The hustle is real." I'd say "The hustle is real
and worth it."
Joey did fine with his summer shave. He is a lot more comfortable
without all the fur. When I picked him up I was told he was flirting
with all the women working at Veazie Vet. He is some cute with his
little lion trim.
I'm looking forward to seeing my piece in the paper today. :-).
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Adult nonfiction
"It wasn't supposed to be so hard. Like many women of my so-
called postfeminist generation, I was raised to believe that women
were finally poised to be equal with men. That women, after centuries
of oppression, exploitation, and other unnamed bad things, could now
behave more or less like men. We could have sex whenever we wanted,
children whenever we chose, and career options that stretched to
infinity. The first woman astronaut? Of course. The first woman
president? Why not? This had been the era, after all, when Barbie
ditched the closeted Ken for careers in medicine and firefighting...
But somewhere, somehow, the reality shifted, and instead of lacy
strings I was struggling with a nursing bra that defied all notions of
femininity and a blouse that refused to close fully over it. I had a
five-week-old baby at home, a three-year-old who hadn't realized quite
what had befallen him, and a plane to catch to Michigan. What
happened to Barbie's breast pump? And why wasn't it working for me?"
In the prologue of her Wonder Women: Sex, Power, & The Quest
For Perfection, Debora L. Spar describes an epiphany she had in 1992.
Sleep deprived, on a layover between planes, pumping breast milk in a
public bathroom stall, she realized that she had it all. Only the
balancing act she lived was a lot more difficult than she'd ever
imagined. Luckily for us, she went on to distill years of experience
and research into Wonder Women.
Growing Up, Spar never considered herself a feminist. In her
mind, they were shrill, man-hating, hairy legged, and perpetually
angry--all of which she wasn't. Instead she was enchanted by the main
character of a Charlie perfume ad: "...She had long, bouncy hair, a
form fitting blue suit, and a pair of stiletto heels. From one hand
dangled a briefcase; from the other, a small, equally beautiful child,
who gazed adoringly at her mom as they skipped along..."
She could have it all just as the Charlie ad implied.
Somewhere along the way having it all became having too much for
Spar and a lot of women. Her analysis of why (hint: it involves the
quest for perfection in all facets of life) and what we can do to
achieve a more sane, human life style make Wonder Women a must read
for feminists and allies.
On a personal note, I never did aspire to have it all at the same
time. I stayed home with my children. I worked out of the home,
first running a typing service and then doing free lance writing. It
was a challenge finding a way to get back on track when they left
home. But I start grad school in September. I got my first semester
bill a couple of days ago. It's due August 15. It won't be easy to
pay on time. But if I work all the shifts I can get and am lucky
finding bottles and cans to cash in I can do it. One of my favorite
sayings right now is "The hustle is real." I'd say "The hustle is real
and worth it."
Joey did fine with his summer shave. He is a lot more comfortable
without all the fur. When I picked him up I was told he was flirting
with all the women working at Veazie Vet. He is some cute with his
little lion trim.
I'm looking forward to seeing my piece in the paper today. :-).
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Wednesday, July 18, 2018
Hockey Then To Now
Hockey Then To Now
Juvenile nonfiction
"Hockey, like baseball, evolved from games originally played on
grass in the British Isles. When the sport crossed the Atlantic, it
quickly took hold in Canada, particularly in Montreal, where people
began playing field hockey on ice with a flat piece of wood in lieu of
a ball in the 1870's.
Since that time, techniques, equipment, rules, and even fashions
have evolved as the game extended its reach across the globe. Still,
much of that 19th century game is recognizable today."
My husband loves to watch the University of Maine Black Bears
take to the ice. Especially in cold weather states, ice hockey can be
a fun sport to play or watch. If it's your cup of tea, perhaps you'd
like to learn more about its colorful history. Sports Illustrated's
Hockey Then to Now is your ticket.
Informstion is concise and comprehensive. You get the scoop on
rules, equipment, styles, and arenas. There are biographies of famous
players and coaches. Needless to say the photographs are plentiful
and dynamic.
On a personal note, today should be interesting. On my way to work
I'm taking Joey to the vets for his annual shave, his little lion
cut. They leave the fur on his head, legs, and tail. It's health,
not vanity. His fur is really long and thick. He will feel so much
better. I saved up enough so I won't have to touch the credit card.
It took me about two months. Since I can't drive, I'll walk him over,
jump on the bus to UMaine, work my shift, bus back, pick him up, and
walk home. I must make both buses. Wish me luck!
A great big shout out goes out to Joey and all our beloved animal
companions who need help coping with the heat.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Juvenile nonfiction
"Hockey, like baseball, evolved from games originally played on
grass in the British Isles. When the sport crossed the Atlantic, it
quickly took hold in Canada, particularly in Montreal, where people
began playing field hockey on ice with a flat piece of wood in lieu of
a ball in the 1870's.
Since that time, techniques, equipment, rules, and even fashions
have evolved as the game extended its reach across the globe. Still,
much of that 19th century game is recognizable today."
My husband loves to watch the University of Maine Black Bears
take to the ice. Especially in cold weather states, ice hockey can be
a fun sport to play or watch. If it's your cup of tea, perhaps you'd
like to learn more about its colorful history. Sports Illustrated's
Hockey Then to Now is your ticket.
Informstion is concise and comprehensive. You get the scoop on
rules, equipment, styles, and arenas. There are biographies of famous
players and coaches. Needless to say the photographs are plentiful
and dynamic.
On a personal note, today should be interesting. On my way to work
I'm taking Joey to the vets for his annual shave, his little lion
cut. They leave the fur on his head, legs, and tail. It's health,
not vanity. His fur is really long and thick. He will feel so much
better. I saved up enough so I won't have to touch the credit card.
It took me about two months. Since I can't drive, I'll walk him over,
jump on the bus to UMaine, work my shift, bus back, pick him up, and
walk home. I must make both buses. Wish me luck!
A great big shout out goes out to Joey and all our beloved animal
companions who need help coping with the heat.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
American Gothic
American Gothic
Juvenile biography
Even if you don't know many other painting images by heart, if
someone mentions American Gothic you probably know what (s)he's
talking about. In your mind's eye you see a plainly dressed, somber
expressioned couple, standing in front of a building, a pitchfork
between them. I'm equally confident that you don't know the story
behind it. Susan Wood's American Gothic: The Life of Grant Wood can
remedy this deficit.
Grant Wood discovered artistic abilities early on, drawing with
charcoal sticks on cardboard or brown paper because his family
couldn't afford art supplies. As an adult artist he went to Europe to
discover his style. Impressionism, cubism, and abstract art, then the
rage, left him cold. Back in America he discovered an unusual
farmhouse with Gothic cathedral window.
Could the inspiration that eluded him during his pilgrimage be
on his own home turf?
Read the book and see.
On a personal note, I was really excited at work yesterday. I found
the answer to a mystery I'd been working on for weeks. A supervisor
would sometimes find crumbs on a table I'd wiped down or I'd find them
on one another student worker wiped down. I kept track of which
tables this happened at. Yesterday I realized it was the wood grain
ones, not the plain ones. The pattern can hide crumbs that can be
seen from another angle. So to make sure a table is clean look at it
from two angles. I learned my deductive skills from the best--Nancy
Drew, girl detective. In my preteen years I devoured that book
series. Mom, who much preferred the classics, thought it was a total
waste of my reading time. But over the years the insights I gleaned
from Nancy and her chums have served me well in many real life
situations. Just call me Jules Hathaway, two spirit detective.
A great big shout out goes out to my work family. I am glad I didn't
get a grad assistantship because I would have missed out on the
dining services student worker experience.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Juvenile biography
Even if you don't know many other painting images by heart, if
someone mentions American Gothic you probably know what (s)he's
talking about. In your mind's eye you see a plainly dressed, somber
expressioned couple, standing in front of a building, a pitchfork
between them. I'm equally confident that you don't know the story
behind it. Susan Wood's American Gothic: The Life of Grant Wood can
remedy this deficit.
Grant Wood discovered artistic abilities early on, drawing with
charcoal sticks on cardboard or brown paper because his family
couldn't afford art supplies. As an adult artist he went to Europe to
discover his style. Impressionism, cubism, and abstract art, then the
rage, left him cold. Back in America he discovered an unusual
farmhouse with Gothic cathedral window.
Could the inspiration that eluded him during his pilgrimage be
on his own home turf?
Read the book and see.
On a personal note, I was really excited at work yesterday. I found
the answer to a mystery I'd been working on for weeks. A supervisor
would sometimes find crumbs on a table I'd wiped down or I'd find them
on one another student worker wiped down. I kept track of which
tables this happened at. Yesterday I realized it was the wood grain
ones, not the plain ones. The pattern can hide crumbs that can be
seen from another angle. So to make sure a table is clean look at it
from two angles. I learned my deductive skills from the best--Nancy
Drew, girl detective. In my preteen years I devoured that book
series. Mom, who much preferred the classics, thought it was a total
waste of my reading time. But over the years the insights I gleaned
from Nancy and her chums have served me well in many real life
situations. Just call me Jules Hathaway, two spirit detective.
A great big shout out goes out to my work family. I am glad I didn't
get a grad assistantship because I would have missed out on the
dining services student worker experience.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Monday, July 16, 2018
Damaged
Damaged
Adult fiction
"'I'll put them in front of little Poindexter on the stand.
I'll have him authenticate them. I'll ask him if he drew them. He
won't lie, not about this. From what I hear, he's very proud of his
drawings. He wants to be a comic book artist someday.' Machiavelli
chuckled. 'Except that he can't read. Oops!"
Mary felt her fists clench. She knew that Machiavelli was low,
but she hadn't thought he was low enough to make fun of a disabled
child. He was no better than the bullies in the schoolyard. Then it
occurred to her thar maybe schoolyard bullies grew up to be lawyers."
There are some things a lawyer does not need as she gets ready
for her own wedding complete with potential pitfalls. A new,
complicated, potentially dangerous case is probably near the top of
the list. But that's what Mary DiNunzio finds herself dealing with in
Lisa Scottoline's Damaged.
Edward O'Brian hires Mary on behalf of the 10-year-old orphaned
grandson he cares for. Patrick is a special needs fifth grader who
can't yet read. He isn't getting the remedial services he needs.
He's so anxious he throws up in school. His peers torment him,
calling him names like Vomit Boy and Duke of Puke.
Only kids aren't the only ones bullying Patrick. A teacher's
aide, Robertson, acted abusively, punching him in the face and
threatening to beat him up if he told anyone. When Edward was finally
able to get at the truth, he notified a school official who promised
to investigate.
Edward contacts Mary when he's served with a lawsuit. Robertson
is suing him and the school district, claiming that Patrick tried to
stab him with scissors, "attempting to do him grevious bodily harm."
He claims to be traumatized enough not to be able to return to work.
He's hired a lawyer, Machiavelli, a great admirer of the evil genius
whose name he bears.
Of course that's only the tip of the iceberg plot wise. Before
the end of the book Edward has died under suspicious circumstances,
Patrick has pulled a gun on a human services worker, and Mary's
upcoming marriage is on real jeopardy.
On a personal note, as I add my personal note I'm in my studio with a
delightful breeze caressing me. It will get muggier later. I have
finally saved up enough to pay for Joey cat's summer shave. It's
medical necessity, not vanity on my part. His fur is so long and
thick and, in the summer when he won't tolerate grooming, so matted.
He will be so much more comfortable after he gets his little lion
(everything shaved but head, legs, and tail) cut.
A great big shout out goes out to Mother Nature for the very tolerable
weather and sleepable nights we've been having lately up to Penobscot
County.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Adult fiction
"'I'll put them in front of little Poindexter on the stand.
I'll have him authenticate them. I'll ask him if he drew them. He
won't lie, not about this. From what I hear, he's very proud of his
drawings. He wants to be a comic book artist someday.' Machiavelli
chuckled. 'Except that he can't read. Oops!"
Mary felt her fists clench. She knew that Machiavelli was low,
but she hadn't thought he was low enough to make fun of a disabled
child. He was no better than the bullies in the schoolyard. Then it
occurred to her thar maybe schoolyard bullies grew up to be lawyers."
There are some things a lawyer does not need as she gets ready
for her own wedding complete with potential pitfalls. A new,
complicated, potentially dangerous case is probably near the top of
the list. But that's what Mary DiNunzio finds herself dealing with in
Lisa Scottoline's Damaged.
Edward O'Brian hires Mary on behalf of the 10-year-old orphaned
grandson he cares for. Patrick is a special needs fifth grader who
can't yet read. He isn't getting the remedial services he needs.
He's so anxious he throws up in school. His peers torment him,
calling him names like Vomit Boy and Duke of Puke.
Only kids aren't the only ones bullying Patrick. A teacher's
aide, Robertson, acted abusively, punching him in the face and
threatening to beat him up if he told anyone. When Edward was finally
able to get at the truth, he notified a school official who promised
to investigate.
Edward contacts Mary when he's served with a lawsuit. Robertson
is suing him and the school district, claiming that Patrick tried to
stab him with scissors, "attempting to do him grevious bodily harm."
He claims to be traumatized enough not to be able to return to work.
He's hired a lawyer, Machiavelli, a great admirer of the evil genius
whose name he bears.
Of course that's only the tip of the iceberg plot wise. Before
the end of the book Edward has died under suspicious circumstances,
Patrick has pulled a gun on a human services worker, and Mary's
upcoming marriage is on real jeopardy.
On a personal note, as I add my personal note I'm in my studio with a
delightful breeze caressing me. It will get muggier later. I have
finally saved up enough to pay for Joey cat's summer shave. It's
medical necessity, not vanity on my part. His fur is so long and
thick and, in the summer when he won't tolerate grooming, so matted.
He will be so much more comfortable after he gets his little lion
(everything shaved but head, legs, and tail) cut.
A great big shout out goes out to Mother Nature for the very tolerable
weather and sleepable nights we've been having lately up to Penobscot
County.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
The Stars Beneath Our Feet
The Stars Beneath Our Feet
YA fiction
"What I couldn't get out of my skull was the thought of their
rough, grimy hands all over my clean sneaks. What I couldn't get out
of my heart was the joy-grabbing stone I felt there. Partly because
of the two thugs following me now, but more because I knew Jermaine
wouldn't be here to protect my neck this time.
He would never, ever be coming home."
Lolly (Wallace), narrator of David Barclay Moore's The Stars
Beneath Our Feet, has lost his only brother, Jermaine, to gang
violence. He's decided nothing will ever make him feel Christmassy
again. He vaccilates between sadness and anger. He knows something
the people in his life don't: right before his brother was killed
he'd done something that made Jermaine angry.
Complicating matters, Lolly and his best friend, Vega, have hit
the age where they've become attractive to the local gangs as
potential members. Vega's cousin, Frito, is making it hard for the
boys to not join up. Vega thinks a gang would protect them from
Two bullies who hurt them whenever they can.
Lolly is conflicted.
There is one bright spot in Lolly's life. Yvonne, his mother's
girlfriend, has given him two garbage bags full of Legos.
"I was so stunned I couldn't say nothing. I knelt down and
poured my hands through the mountain of plastic pieces on our floor.
This mountain was even bigger than the one I had made last night when
I yanked apart all my Lego kits."
Building a creation that outgrows his room and then his family
living room becomes the only time Lolly feels at peace. Could it
point the way toward a gangless future?
Legos bring back fond memories. My kids loved them. I couldn't
afford the fancy kits they sold up to the Bangor Mall. But I scoured
thrift shops. Amber and Katie did really well in the Lego League
competitions. I was so proud watching their team compete.
On a personal note, I had a wonderful weekend. Saturday I was at the
community garden weeding and watering. I found over $4 worth of
bottles and cans in one dumpster. :) Sunday I went to church.
A great big shout out goes out to my community garden and church
families.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
YA fiction
"What I couldn't get out of my skull was the thought of their
rough, grimy hands all over my clean sneaks. What I couldn't get out
of my heart was the joy-grabbing stone I felt there. Partly because
of the two thugs following me now, but more because I knew Jermaine
wouldn't be here to protect my neck this time.
He would never, ever be coming home."
Lolly (Wallace), narrator of David Barclay Moore's The Stars
Beneath Our Feet, has lost his only brother, Jermaine, to gang
violence. He's decided nothing will ever make him feel Christmassy
again. He vaccilates between sadness and anger. He knows something
the people in his life don't: right before his brother was killed
he'd done something that made Jermaine angry.
Complicating matters, Lolly and his best friend, Vega, have hit
the age where they've become attractive to the local gangs as
potential members. Vega's cousin, Frito, is making it hard for the
boys to not join up. Vega thinks a gang would protect them from
Two bullies who hurt them whenever they can.
Lolly is conflicted.
There is one bright spot in Lolly's life. Yvonne, his mother's
girlfriend, has given him two garbage bags full of Legos.
"I was so stunned I couldn't say nothing. I knelt down and
poured my hands through the mountain of plastic pieces on our floor.
This mountain was even bigger than the one I had made last night when
I yanked apart all my Lego kits."
Building a creation that outgrows his room and then his family
living room becomes the only time Lolly feels at peace. Could it
point the way toward a gangless future?
Legos bring back fond memories. My kids loved them. I couldn't
afford the fancy kits they sold up to the Bangor Mall. But I scoured
thrift shops. Amber and Katie did really well in the Lego League
competitions. I was so proud watching their team compete.
On a personal note, I had a wonderful weekend. Saturday I was at the
community garden weeding and watering. I found over $4 worth of
bottles and cans in one dumpster. :) Sunday I went to church.
A great big shout out goes out to my community garden and church
families.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Saturday, July 14, 2018
Small Great Things
Small Great Things
Adult fiction
"And then just like that I am bursting through the surface of
consciousness, and the jackhammer of knocking detonates as the police
break the door off its hinges and swarm into my living room, their
guns drawn. 'What are you doing?' I cry out. 'What are you doing?'
'Ruth Jefferson?' one of them yells, and I can't find my voice,
I can't speak at all, so I just jerk my chin: Yes. Immediately he
pulls my arm behind my back and pushes me facedown onto the floor, his
knee in the small of my back as he zips a plastic tie around my
wrists. The others are overturning furniture, dumping drawers onto
the floor, sweeping books off the shelves. 'A grand jury has charged
you with murder and involuntary manslaughter,' the police says.
'You're under arrest.'"
Ruth had been the underdog who made it against all odds, the
daughter of a maid who made it into the professional world. She's
been a well respected labor and delivery nurse at a Connecticut
hospital when she has the misfortune of being assigned to a white
supremacist couple and their newly delivered baby.
Turk Bauer is the son-in-law of a legend in white supremacist
circles. Although made to conduct operations by computer, he's much
happier busting heads. He and wife Brittany are convinced that the
superior white race is being overrun by degenerate races. They've
just given birth to their own little "race warrior." Much to their
horror, the next morning a black nurse tends to their infant.
Flashing a Confederate flag tattoo, Turk bullies charge nurse
Marie into putting a note on baby Davis' file: NO AFRICAN AMERICAN
PERSONNEL TO CARE FOR THIS PATIENT. Ruth tends to other patients.
Davis is circumcized with another nurse, Corinne, attending. When
Corinne is suddenly pulled away to help with an emergency c section,
Ruth is the only one who can help Davis.
Suddenly Ruth notices that Davis has stopped breathing and is
turning blue. About to spring into well practiced action, she is
momentarily paralyzed when she remembers the note.
"Is stimulating the baby the same as resuscitating him? Is
touching the baby technically caring for him?
Could I lose my job over this?"
When Davis dies Turk charges Ruth with homicide. He's convinced
she caused his baby's death in retaliation for the note. He wants the
bitch who killed his baby to die.
Told through the alternating voices of all the major players,
Small Great Things is an excellent suspense story and much more. It
gives candid looks at white privilege and how far we have to go to
achieve the dream of Martin Luther King Jr.
In today's world it's one of the most relevant books you can
choose. In her author's note, Jodi Picault makes a poignant
observation.
"Of all my novels, this book will stand out for me because of
the sea change it inspired in the way I think about myself, and
because it made me aware of the distance I have yet to go when it
comes to racial awareness. In America, we like to think the reason we
have had success is that we worked hard or we were smart. Admitting
that racism has played a part in our success means admitting that the
American dream isn't quite so accessible to all..."
Picault tells those of us who are unfairly advantaged by skin
tone to not deny this. We can educate ourselves and each other. We
can stand up to bigots and listen to suppressed voices.
"There is a fire raging, and we have two choices: we can turn
our backs, or we can try to fight it. Yes, talking about racism is
hard to do, and yes, we stumble over the words--but we who are white
need to have this discussion among ourselves. Because then, even more
of us will overhear, and--I hope--the conversation will spread"
Amen!
On a personal note, yesterday at work I saw a poster about the
importance of giving customers a positive experience. I was psyched
because I do that really well in dining room. I knew instinctively
from the start that my job was more than wiping tables. It's amazing
what one can do in seemingly small interactions with warm smiles, kind
words, and a sense of humor. I love that job!!! How many people get
paid to do what they love doing?
A great big shout out goes out to writers who use their books to
combat white privilege.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Adult fiction
"And then just like that I am bursting through the surface of
consciousness, and the jackhammer of knocking detonates as the police
break the door off its hinges and swarm into my living room, their
guns drawn. 'What are you doing?' I cry out. 'What are you doing?'
'Ruth Jefferson?' one of them yells, and I can't find my voice,
I can't speak at all, so I just jerk my chin: Yes. Immediately he
pulls my arm behind my back and pushes me facedown onto the floor, his
knee in the small of my back as he zips a plastic tie around my
wrists. The others are overturning furniture, dumping drawers onto
the floor, sweeping books off the shelves. 'A grand jury has charged
you with murder and involuntary manslaughter,' the police says.
'You're under arrest.'"
Ruth had been the underdog who made it against all odds, the
daughter of a maid who made it into the professional world. She's
been a well respected labor and delivery nurse at a Connecticut
hospital when she has the misfortune of being assigned to a white
supremacist couple and their newly delivered baby.
Turk Bauer is the son-in-law of a legend in white supremacist
circles. Although made to conduct operations by computer, he's much
happier busting heads. He and wife Brittany are convinced that the
superior white race is being overrun by degenerate races. They've
just given birth to their own little "race warrior." Much to their
horror, the next morning a black nurse tends to their infant.
Flashing a Confederate flag tattoo, Turk bullies charge nurse
Marie into putting a note on baby Davis' file: NO AFRICAN AMERICAN
PERSONNEL TO CARE FOR THIS PATIENT. Ruth tends to other patients.
Davis is circumcized with another nurse, Corinne, attending. When
Corinne is suddenly pulled away to help with an emergency c section,
Ruth is the only one who can help Davis.
Suddenly Ruth notices that Davis has stopped breathing and is
turning blue. About to spring into well practiced action, she is
momentarily paralyzed when she remembers the note.
"Is stimulating the baby the same as resuscitating him? Is
touching the baby technically caring for him?
Could I lose my job over this?"
When Davis dies Turk charges Ruth with homicide. He's convinced
she caused his baby's death in retaliation for the note. He wants the
bitch who killed his baby to die.
Told through the alternating voices of all the major players,
Small Great Things is an excellent suspense story and much more. It
gives candid looks at white privilege and how far we have to go to
achieve the dream of Martin Luther King Jr.
In today's world it's one of the most relevant books you can
choose. In her author's note, Jodi Picault makes a poignant
observation.
"Of all my novels, this book will stand out for me because of
the sea change it inspired in the way I think about myself, and
because it made me aware of the distance I have yet to go when it
comes to racial awareness. In America, we like to think the reason we
have had success is that we worked hard or we were smart. Admitting
that racism has played a part in our success means admitting that the
American dream isn't quite so accessible to all..."
Picault tells those of us who are unfairly advantaged by skin
tone to not deny this. We can educate ourselves and each other. We
can stand up to bigots and listen to suppressed voices.
"There is a fire raging, and we have two choices: we can turn
our backs, or we can try to fight it. Yes, talking about racism is
hard to do, and yes, we stumble over the words--but we who are white
need to have this discussion among ourselves. Because then, even more
of us will overhear, and--I hope--the conversation will spread"
Amen!
On a personal note, yesterday at work I saw a poster about the
importance of giving customers a positive experience. I was psyched
because I do that really well in dining room. I knew instinctively
from the start that my job was more than wiping tables. It's amazing
what one can do in seemingly small interactions with warm smiles, kind
words, and a sense of humor. I love that job!!! How many people get
paid to do what they love doing?
A great big shout out goes out to writers who use their books to
combat white privilege.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Thursday, July 12, 2018
Hello Flo
Hello Flo
YA/adult
If you're a girl or woman, do you remember first hearing about
menstruation? I sure do! I was eleven. One evening at summer camp
(think rustic cabins, crickets and wind song, fireflies coming out,
giggling girls) for some strange reason the counselors seemed to need
a break from me and my peers. If we'd just be quiet and self
sufficient they'd let us listen to an illicit radio.
News flashes punctuated popular music. In one we learned that
the Pope had died from hemhorraging which we knew meant heavy
bleeding. The next day one of my cabin mates woke up bleeding.
Convinced that she was going to die like the Pope, we campers were in
hysterics. (I'm guessing that's one day the counselor remembers to
this day.)
From my younger years I recall literature about periods being
pretty much limited to tracts put out by manufacturers of pads and
tampons, more focussed on selling product than explaining much of
anything. Pickings were still pretty slim when my daughters
approached puberty.
Although we still live in a menstrual taboo society where blue
water is used to show the absorption power of period products, today's
parents and daughters are in luck. Naama Bloom's Hello Flo is the
book I wish had been published before I began learning about my
changing body or helping my daughters understand theirs. Bloom tells
readers,
"As founder of HelloFlo.com I've been in the unique position to
hear from thousands of girls and women about how they relate to their
own bodies, and I've come to realize that the way we talk about
physical changes is, well lacking. I'm writing this book because you
deserve honesty and real information. You deserve to know what's
going on--both in your body and in the world around you."
Chapters about the different changes that take place are
organized in the order in which they usually happen. Language is
reader friendly. The voice is that of an older friend or relative
willing to give girls the real scoop. There's a good balance between
practical (how to insert a tampon) and more abstract (how hormones
dictate periods) information. There are even fun facts about past
practices.
Throughout the book there is a reassuring emphasis on the wide
range of normal when it comes to everything from age of first period
to breast size. There are many questions and anecdotes written by real
girls. Content is all congruent with the mission Bloom states in her
introduction:
"As corny as it sounds, it's my dream that every girl enter
puberty with enough knowledge of what's going on in her body and mind
to keep her confident throughout. I've spoken to countless doctors,
parents, and girls while writing this book, and I've tried to put
everything that's useful in these pages. I'm not a doctor, I'm not
even an expert. What I am is a woman who once was a confused girl who
made it her mission to remove some of the confusion for the girls that
came after me."
The world needs a lot more women like Naama Bloom.
On a personal note, today at work I was wiping down tables at lunch.
We had adorable camp kids in the crowd. Two boys (about 6-year-olds)
showed me there was a dead beetle under a chair. When I picked it up
and said I'd throw it away they were visibly relieved. When they were
about to leave one of the boys thanked me. Working dining room gives
me so many ways to touch people's lives while keeping the space
clean. That's one of the reasons I love the job so much.
A great big shout out goes out to the people I encounter on the job:
the supervisors, my coworkers, and the people for whom we create a
quality dining experience.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
YA/adult
If you're a girl or woman, do you remember first hearing about
menstruation? I sure do! I was eleven. One evening at summer camp
(think rustic cabins, crickets and wind song, fireflies coming out,
giggling girls) for some strange reason the counselors seemed to need
a break from me and my peers. If we'd just be quiet and self
sufficient they'd let us listen to an illicit radio.
News flashes punctuated popular music. In one we learned that
the Pope had died from hemhorraging which we knew meant heavy
bleeding. The next day one of my cabin mates woke up bleeding.
Convinced that she was going to die like the Pope, we campers were in
hysterics. (I'm guessing that's one day the counselor remembers to
this day.)
From my younger years I recall literature about periods being
pretty much limited to tracts put out by manufacturers of pads and
tampons, more focussed on selling product than explaining much of
anything. Pickings were still pretty slim when my daughters
approached puberty.
Although we still live in a menstrual taboo society where blue
water is used to show the absorption power of period products, today's
parents and daughters are in luck. Naama Bloom's Hello Flo is the
book I wish had been published before I began learning about my
changing body or helping my daughters understand theirs. Bloom tells
readers,
"As founder of HelloFlo.com I've been in the unique position to
hear from thousands of girls and women about how they relate to their
own bodies, and I've come to realize that the way we talk about
physical changes is, well lacking. I'm writing this book because you
deserve honesty and real information. You deserve to know what's
going on--both in your body and in the world around you."
Chapters about the different changes that take place are
organized in the order in which they usually happen. Language is
reader friendly. The voice is that of an older friend or relative
willing to give girls the real scoop. There's a good balance between
practical (how to insert a tampon) and more abstract (how hormones
dictate periods) information. There are even fun facts about past
practices.
Throughout the book there is a reassuring emphasis on the wide
range of normal when it comes to everything from age of first period
to breast size. There are many questions and anecdotes written by real
girls. Content is all congruent with the mission Bloom states in her
introduction:
"As corny as it sounds, it's my dream that every girl enter
puberty with enough knowledge of what's going on in her body and mind
to keep her confident throughout. I've spoken to countless doctors,
parents, and girls while writing this book, and I've tried to put
everything that's useful in these pages. I'm not a doctor, I'm not
even an expert. What I am is a woman who once was a confused girl who
made it her mission to remove some of the confusion for the girls that
came after me."
The world needs a lot more women like Naama Bloom.
On a personal note, today at work I was wiping down tables at lunch.
We had adorable camp kids in the crowd. Two boys (about 6-year-olds)
showed me there was a dead beetle under a chair. When I picked it up
and said I'd throw it away they were visibly relieved. When they were
about to leave one of the boys thanked me. Working dining room gives
me so many ways to touch people's lives while keeping the space
clean. That's one of the reasons I love the job so much.
A great big shout out goes out to the people I encounter on the job:
the supervisors, my coworkers, and the people for whom we create a
quality dining experience.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Wednesday, July 11, 2018
In Your Face
In Your Face
YA/adult nonfiction
"Every day in a thousand ways, we're reminded of how much easier
the world seems to be for people blessed with the right hair, face,
and body parts. You can't help but wonder whether your own life would
be just that much better if the reflection looking back at you from
the mirror every day were a bit more like Brad Pitt or Jennifer Lopez,
and a bit less like your Uncle Howard or Aunt Lou."
If you find similar thoughts running through your head (most of
us do at least now and then) Shari Graydon's In Your Face: The Culture
Of Beauty And You would be a good book to put on your to read list.
If you have a preteen or early teenage child it would be a good volume
to make available. It does for the pressure to achieve usually
unattainable beauty standards what her Made You Look (Recall we looked
at it last February) did for all those sneaky tricks advertisers use
to get us to covet and buy products, many of which we have no real
need for.
"In Your Face sets out to discover:
*why we're so fascinated by beauty;
*what we've done over the centuries and across cultures to stand out,
fit in, and measure up;
*who gets to decide what's hot and what's not; and
*what forces and sources shape our views."
A very big favor Graydon does us all is reminding us that,
rather than being an absolute, beauty standards change over time and
differ by culture. The ideal figure for women is a good example. It's
ranged from recent anorexic chic to the voluptuous curves immortalized
by artists hundreds of years ago.
I have my own relevant cross cultural observation. In the
United States any kind of weight deemed excess is considered bad and
ugly. Many people practice extreme diets and/or exercise regimens and
feel guilty if they slip up or don't get the results they desire.
There are also people who try to hide curves under bulky garments or
stay in the background by wearing dull drab colors and trying to
shrink into themselves. Many women from Africa, in contrast, flaunt
the same curves by wearing brightly colored, tightly fitting garments
and walking confidently and grandly.
Another good point Graydon makes is that a lot of beauty
practices past and present were/are harmful. Foot binding produced
women too crippled to walk normally. Corsets compromised internal
organs. Largely unattainable slimness standards promote sometimes
fatal eating disorders. And how about botched plastic surgery?
Fortunately those of us who weren't born with the hotness
attributes of the decade aren't totally screwed. Graydon reminds
readers that most people are too busy worrying about their own flaws
to notice ours. She also discusses how a charismatic personality can
make events a plainer person look beautiful in the eyes of his/her/
their beholders.
I know that's the secret of my appeal.
On a personal note, I should have posted this yesterday. However,
after I worked breakfast and lunch cafeteria shifts and donated blood
on a muggy day I was not up for much of anything, especially knowing
I'd be on the early bus this morning. Blood donating went well. I
had nice high iron thanks to all the good cafeteria food. My blood
pressure was 96/62 and my pulse was 51.
I've been having really good luck. I found two gold dollars. I also
found a garbage bag of clean bottles and cans all ready to cash in in
a dumpster.
A great big shout goes out to everyone who participated in the blood
drive.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
YA/adult nonfiction
"Every day in a thousand ways, we're reminded of how much easier
the world seems to be for people blessed with the right hair, face,
and body parts. You can't help but wonder whether your own life would
be just that much better if the reflection looking back at you from
the mirror every day were a bit more like Brad Pitt or Jennifer Lopez,
and a bit less like your Uncle Howard or Aunt Lou."
If you find similar thoughts running through your head (most of
us do at least now and then) Shari Graydon's In Your Face: The Culture
Of Beauty And You would be a good book to put on your to read list.
If you have a preteen or early teenage child it would be a good volume
to make available. It does for the pressure to achieve usually
unattainable beauty standards what her Made You Look (Recall we looked
at it last February) did for all those sneaky tricks advertisers use
to get us to covet and buy products, many of which we have no real
need for.
"In Your Face sets out to discover:
*why we're so fascinated by beauty;
*what we've done over the centuries and across cultures to stand out,
fit in, and measure up;
*who gets to decide what's hot and what's not; and
*what forces and sources shape our views."
A very big favor Graydon does us all is reminding us that,
rather than being an absolute, beauty standards change over time and
differ by culture. The ideal figure for women is a good example. It's
ranged from recent anorexic chic to the voluptuous curves immortalized
by artists hundreds of years ago.
I have my own relevant cross cultural observation. In the
United States any kind of weight deemed excess is considered bad and
ugly. Many people practice extreme diets and/or exercise regimens and
feel guilty if they slip up or don't get the results they desire.
There are also people who try to hide curves under bulky garments or
stay in the background by wearing dull drab colors and trying to
shrink into themselves. Many women from Africa, in contrast, flaunt
the same curves by wearing brightly colored, tightly fitting garments
and walking confidently and grandly.
Another good point Graydon makes is that a lot of beauty
practices past and present were/are harmful. Foot binding produced
women too crippled to walk normally. Corsets compromised internal
organs. Largely unattainable slimness standards promote sometimes
fatal eating disorders. And how about botched plastic surgery?
Fortunately those of us who weren't born with the hotness
attributes of the decade aren't totally screwed. Graydon reminds
readers that most people are too busy worrying about their own flaws
to notice ours. She also discusses how a charismatic personality can
make events a plainer person look beautiful in the eyes of his/her/
their beholders.
I know that's the secret of my appeal.
On a personal note, I should have posted this yesterday. However,
after I worked breakfast and lunch cafeteria shifts and donated blood
on a muggy day I was not up for much of anything, especially knowing
I'd be on the early bus this morning. Blood donating went well. I
had nice high iron thanks to all the good cafeteria food. My blood
pressure was 96/62 and my pulse was 51.
I've been having really good luck. I found two gold dollars. I also
found a garbage bag of clean bottles and cans all ready to cash in in
a dumpster.
A great big shout goes out to everyone who participated in the blood
drive.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Sunday, July 8, 2018
All The Way To America
All The Way To America
Juvenile biography
When we think of objects passed down through generations, we
tend to imagine fancy items like jewelery and paintings. In Dan
Yaccarino's biographical All The Way To America, we learn how a much
more humble object can help bind generations together.
Growing up in a farming family in Italy, Dan's great grandfather
did what he could to help. Times were tough. As a young man he
immigrated to the United States, taking with him a little shovel his
father gave him. In America he found work in a bakery where he used
the shovel to measure ingredients. He passed it on to his son who
opened a market...
...Dan is the current shovel holder. He uses it to garden with
his children.
This sweet, touching story may provide the perfect opportunity
for a parent or grand to tell children about special family treasures.
On a personal note, Friday Eugene and I enjoyed an adult snow day, or,
more accurately, rain day. His work got rained out. It happens now
and then in construction. And I actually had a free day. We got a
bunch of errands done. He totally spoiled me. At the grocery store
he got cherries, banana split ice cream, and caramel M&Ms. And at
Goodwill he bought me 2 cards of jingle balls for Joey cat and not
one, but TWO CAT SHIRTS, even though he thinks (probably correctly)
that I'm obsessed with cat shirts). I can't wait to wear them. Only
today I'm wearing a dress to church. We're trying something new.
Instead of having someone sing, I'm going to read one of my poems,
L'Chaim, during the service. I've read poetry in other venues, but in
a church service is a new one for me.
A great big shout out goes out to the hubby with whom I will celebrate
our 29th anniversary on the 29th. You can help us celebrate. That
day do something nice for or say something kind to another person.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Juvenile biography
When we think of objects passed down through generations, we
tend to imagine fancy items like jewelery and paintings. In Dan
Yaccarino's biographical All The Way To America, we learn how a much
more humble object can help bind generations together.
Growing up in a farming family in Italy, Dan's great grandfather
did what he could to help. Times were tough. As a young man he
immigrated to the United States, taking with him a little shovel his
father gave him. In America he found work in a bakery where he used
the shovel to measure ingredients. He passed it on to his son who
opened a market...
...Dan is the current shovel holder. He uses it to garden with
his children.
This sweet, touching story may provide the perfect opportunity
for a parent or grand to tell children about special family treasures.
On a personal note, Friday Eugene and I enjoyed an adult snow day, or,
more accurately, rain day. His work got rained out. It happens now
and then in construction. And I actually had a free day. We got a
bunch of errands done. He totally spoiled me. At the grocery store
he got cherries, banana split ice cream, and caramel M&Ms. And at
Goodwill he bought me 2 cards of jingle balls for Joey cat and not
one, but TWO CAT SHIRTS, even though he thinks (probably correctly)
that I'm obsessed with cat shirts). I can't wait to wear them. Only
today I'm wearing a dress to church. We're trying something new.
Instead of having someone sing, I'm going to read one of my poems,
L'Chaim, during the service. I've read poetry in other venues, but in
a church service is a new one for me.
A great big shout out goes out to the hubby with whom I will celebrate
our 29th anniversary on the 29th. You can help us celebrate. That
day do something nice for or say something kind to another person.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
The World Is Not A Rectangle
The World Is Not A Rectangle
Juvenile Herstory
I've just discovered an awesome new shero. You can read about
her in Jeanette Winters' The World Is Not A Rectangle.
Growing up in Iraq, Zaha Hadid found beauty and inspiration in
nature and ancient ruins. She designed her own clothes and excelled
in math. She became an architect and opened her office. Her designs
for buildings were much more graceful and fluid than ordinary
structures.
There was one problem. Builders didn't want to tackle her
designs.
Zaha did not give up. One by one her designs were brought to
life. She won numerous prizes and honors including the most
prestigious architecture award in the world.
Winter wrote, "When I first saw photos of Zaha Hadid's
architectural designs in 2010, the buildings seemed to fly. My spirit
also took flight--to a place in my imagination that only landscape had
taken me before. I had to find out more about her."
My spirit took flight when I read the book. Maybe yours will too.
On a personal note, I've been adjusting my schedule for when I start
grad school. Realistically I won't have time for much else than
school, work, and house and cat care. I've quit Peace & Justice
Center Steering Committee. I've arranged to library volunteer only on
vacations. Ironically being in school will mean much less reading and
writing time. For months now I have been stockpiling reviews so I'll
have content to post when I don't have time to create it. Beginning
in September I am going to post once a week instead of every other
day. But now and then I'll post two or more short reviews like I'll
do today. My intent is to keep my blog up while getting my education
underway.
A great big shout out goes out to you, my readers, who make this
endeavor so rewarding.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Juvenile Herstory
I've just discovered an awesome new shero. You can read about
her in Jeanette Winters' The World Is Not A Rectangle.
Growing up in Iraq, Zaha Hadid found beauty and inspiration in
nature and ancient ruins. She designed her own clothes and excelled
in math. She became an architect and opened her office. Her designs
for buildings were much more graceful and fluid than ordinary
structures.
There was one problem. Builders didn't want to tackle her
designs.
Zaha did not give up. One by one her designs were brought to
life. She won numerous prizes and honors including the most
prestigious architecture award in the world.
Winter wrote, "When I first saw photos of Zaha Hadid's
architectural designs in 2010, the buildings seemed to fly. My spirit
also took flight--to a place in my imagination that only landscape had
taken me before. I had to find out more about her."
My spirit took flight when I read the book. Maybe yours will too.
On a personal note, I've been adjusting my schedule for when I start
grad school. Realistically I won't have time for much else than
school, work, and house and cat care. I've quit Peace & Justice
Center Steering Committee. I've arranged to library volunteer only on
vacations. Ironically being in school will mean much less reading and
writing time. For months now I have been stockpiling reviews so I'll
have content to post when I don't have time to create it. Beginning
in September I am going to post once a week instead of every other
day. But now and then I'll post two or more short reviews like I'll
do today. My intent is to keep my blog up while getting my education
underway.
A great big shout out goes out to you, my readers, who make this
endeavor so rewarding.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Friday, July 6, 2018
Silent Music
Silent Music
Picture book
"One frightening night in the year 2003, as bombs and missiles
fell on my city, and death and destruction once again filled the
streets, I, like Yakut, wrote.
I wrote all night and the many nights of bombing that followed.
I filled my room with pages of calligraphy. I filled my mind with
peace."
Imagine living in the above described situation. It would be
horrific enough for an adult. It's reality for Ali, narrator of James
Rumford's Silent Music, a soccer loving boy growing up in Baghdad.
Luckily he is able to create himself an island of calm in the midst of
chaos by practicing an art form that's a really important part of
Islamic culture.
In Silent Music you'll learn not only about Ali, but about his
real life hero, Yakut, one of the greatest calligraphers who practiced
his art form in war torn Baghdad 800 years earlier. This fine book is
a must acquire for primary school and public libraries.
On a personal note, I had a really good 4th of July. Eugene and I
went to the barbeque at the in-laws. Amber, Brian, Adam, and Asia
went also. It was great to see them. The food was really good too.
In the evening we went to the fireworks in Brewer. We got there two
hours early to get a good spot. There was hot jazz playing and a
lovely breeze coming off the river. Of course I had a good book to
read. Before the official fireworks there were some smaller pretty
ones people set off and scads of sparklers and Mother Nature's lovely
sunset. The fireworks were spectacular!!!
I wish the in-laws would call me Jules instead of my middle name.
Every time they say it it's like fingernails on a chalk board. I've
explained that politely using I statements. They aren't stupid. At
UMaine we use people's preferred names and pronouns. It isn't all
that hard and it shows respect for the people around you.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Picture book
"One frightening night in the year 2003, as bombs and missiles
fell on my city, and death and destruction once again filled the
streets, I, like Yakut, wrote.
I wrote all night and the many nights of bombing that followed.
I filled my room with pages of calligraphy. I filled my mind with
peace."
Imagine living in the above described situation. It would be
horrific enough for an adult. It's reality for Ali, narrator of James
Rumford's Silent Music, a soccer loving boy growing up in Baghdad.
Luckily he is able to create himself an island of calm in the midst of
chaos by practicing an art form that's a really important part of
Islamic culture.
In Silent Music you'll learn not only about Ali, but about his
real life hero, Yakut, one of the greatest calligraphers who practiced
his art form in war torn Baghdad 800 years earlier. This fine book is
a must acquire for primary school and public libraries.
On a personal note, I had a really good 4th of July. Eugene and I
went to the barbeque at the in-laws. Amber, Brian, Adam, and Asia
went also. It was great to see them. The food was really good too.
In the evening we went to the fireworks in Brewer. We got there two
hours early to get a good spot. There was hot jazz playing and a
lovely breeze coming off the river. Of course I had a good book to
read. Before the official fireworks there were some smaller pretty
ones people set off and scads of sparklers and Mother Nature's lovely
sunset. The fireworks were spectacular!!!
I wish the in-laws would call me Jules instead of my middle name.
Every time they say it it's like fingernails on a chalk board. I've
explained that politely using I statements. They aren't stupid. At
UMaine we use people's preferred names and pronouns. It isn't all
that hard and it shows respect for the people around you.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Wednesday, July 4, 2018
So Far From The Sea
So Far From The Sea
Picture book
Eve Bunting's So Far From The Sea was published in 1998, the
year after my son was born. It seriously needs to come back into
print. It is the most powerful book parents can use to introduce
young children to Executive Order 9066, the 1942 edict that mandated
all Japanese people in the United States to be locked up in
concentration camps.
A family--the 7-year-old narrator, parents, and brother--is
making a pilgrimage to Manzanar to lay silk flowers on the children's
grandfather's grave. It's probably the last time the family will go
there. They're about to move from California to Massachusetts.
Full color two page spreads showing the family alternate with
ones done in black, white, and grey that show the past. You see the
barbed wire and the sentries, children trying to learn in a room with
no desks and not even enough seats, the tiny quarters whole families
had to share... In a particularly poignant picture you see the
father, then a boy of eight, wearing his Cub Scout uniform with which
he'd tried to show the soldiers he was a true American.
If you're a parent try to locate this book at your library or
through Inter Library Loan. It will make a very tough topic every
generation needs to learn about easier to explain and discuss.
I felt that this review was the perfect one to post on the 4th
of July. Even as we've atoned for the Japanese internment and are
discovering the evils of the forcible removal of indiginous children
to boarding schools we're repeating the same evils in the treatment of
immigrants from Mexico and Central America. If America was judged on
our ability to learn from history on a rubric of one (does not meet
expectations) to four (exceeds expectations) we'd be pulling ones. In
my mind this is not a positive exceptionality.
On a personal note, as much as I enjoy the summer trinity of parade,
fireworks, and barbeque, today my heart is overwhelmed with sadness.
I feel that the America we celebrate is, if not gone, seriously in
need of life support. The interests of the majority of us are about
as represented by "our" gubmint as, well, the colonists' interests
were by the British back in the day.
A great big shout goes out to all who speak unpopular truths in this
nation of, by, and for WalMart and Wall Street.
However, Happy 4th of July to all my readers who celebrate it.
Wherever you are, may your day be special!
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Picture book
Eve Bunting's So Far From The Sea was published in 1998, the
year after my son was born. It seriously needs to come back into
print. It is the most powerful book parents can use to introduce
young children to Executive Order 9066, the 1942 edict that mandated
all Japanese people in the United States to be locked up in
concentration camps.
A family--the 7-year-old narrator, parents, and brother--is
making a pilgrimage to Manzanar to lay silk flowers on the children's
grandfather's grave. It's probably the last time the family will go
there. They're about to move from California to Massachusetts.
Full color two page spreads showing the family alternate with
ones done in black, white, and grey that show the past. You see the
barbed wire and the sentries, children trying to learn in a room with
no desks and not even enough seats, the tiny quarters whole families
had to share... In a particularly poignant picture you see the
father, then a boy of eight, wearing his Cub Scout uniform with which
he'd tried to show the soldiers he was a true American.
If you're a parent try to locate this book at your library or
through Inter Library Loan. It will make a very tough topic every
generation needs to learn about easier to explain and discuss.
I felt that this review was the perfect one to post on the 4th
of July. Even as we've atoned for the Japanese internment and are
discovering the evils of the forcible removal of indiginous children
to boarding schools we're repeating the same evils in the treatment of
immigrants from Mexico and Central America. If America was judged on
our ability to learn from history on a rubric of one (does not meet
expectations) to four (exceeds expectations) we'd be pulling ones. In
my mind this is not a positive exceptionality.
On a personal note, as much as I enjoy the summer trinity of parade,
fireworks, and barbeque, today my heart is overwhelmed with sadness.
I feel that the America we celebrate is, if not gone, seriously in
need of life support. The interests of the majority of us are about
as represented by "our" gubmint as, well, the colonists' interests
were by the British back in the day.
A great big shout goes out to all who speak unpopular truths in this
nation of, by, and for WalMart and Wall Street.
However, Happy 4th of July to all my readers who celebrate it.
Wherever you are, may your day be special!
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Monday, July 2, 2018
Little Excavator
Little Excavator
Picture book
The pint size protagonist of Anna Dewdney's Little Excavator has
sky high ambitions. On the job site he tries valiently to help the
dozer knock down walls, the dump truck haul trash, the backhoe dig...
Somehow it never turns out well until...
...at the end of the day there's a task all the other machines
are too big for. Little Excavator nails it neatly.
Dewdney researched her subject in an unusual way. She used one
to work on her garden's walls. She's a big proponant of reading
aloud. It shows. The rythym of the text and all those machine noises
make Little Excavator a book kids will want to hear again and again...
On a personal note, Saturday my kids and their significant others got
together to give Eugene a belated Fathers Day supper featuring burgers
and strawberry shortcake. It was wonderful to have the family all
together. Those are the moments I live for.
A great big shout out goes out to my family (both human and feline)
whom I adore.
A note to readers. With the 4th of July on the horizon I want to urge
you to travel safely, have a designated driver if alcohol is on the
menu, and leave the fireworks to the pyrotechnicians unless you really
know what you're doing.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Picture book
The pint size protagonist of Anna Dewdney's Little Excavator has
sky high ambitions. On the job site he tries valiently to help the
dozer knock down walls, the dump truck haul trash, the backhoe dig...
Somehow it never turns out well until...
...at the end of the day there's a task all the other machines
are too big for. Little Excavator nails it neatly.
Dewdney researched her subject in an unusual way. She used one
to work on her garden's walls. She's a big proponant of reading
aloud. It shows. The rythym of the text and all those machine noises
make Little Excavator a book kids will want to hear again and again...
On a personal note, Saturday my kids and their significant others got
together to give Eugene a belated Fathers Day supper featuring burgers
and strawberry shortcake. It was wonderful to have the family all
together. Those are the moments I live for.
A great big shout out goes out to my family (both human and feline)
whom I adore.
A note to readers. With the 4th of July on the horizon I want to urge
you to travel safely, have a designated driver if alcohol is on the
menu, and leave the fireworks to the pyrotechnicians unless you really
know what you're doing.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
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