Saturday, February 29, 2020

Out Of The Box

Out Of The Box

Juvenile nonfiction
It looked like the babysitting gig from Hades. Two sets of
parents were enjoying homecoming, reliving the best years of their
lives. Their two sets of kids were bored, tired, sunburned, and not
at all pleased at the prospect of being left with a stranger so their
moms and dads could go out for adults only drinks and dinner. But I
had a secret weapon--an empty washing machine box. By the time the
adults returned the kids were putting the final touches on a home for
their stuffed animals.
Even in today's world, where electronics and other fancy play
things abound, good old fashioned empty boxes can still bring out the
creativity in kids. If mine were still young I'd invest in a copy of
Emma Westing's Out Of The Box. It contains 25 engineering projects
based on common household cardboard:
*Toilet paper tubes turn into colorful owls;
*A ring toss game and a feed the monsters board would be perfect for a
back yard carnival;
*A cardboard theater with a cast of cardboard characters can tempt
kids to bring favorite stories to life...
My favorite is the dome den big enough to hold a small child.
It can become a space base, a tortoise, a woodland hide out, or an
igloo. Battery powered fairy lights can add enchantment.
Materials are affordable. Step by step instructions seem quite
manageable. Kids are urged to add their own creative touches. If you
have a child or grand in your life or a youth group to plan activities
for you'll find Out Of The Box to be a prudent purchase.
On a purrrsonal note, with the exceptions of my bad conference news
and a nasty little slush storm on Thursday my week was really good.
With longer days and moderating temperatures spring seems to be on the
way.
Eugene is at camp. So it's me and Tobago at home. She is such a
sweet girl. She knows how to talk (meow) on the phone. She also
knows how to get into lots of stuff. And she gets very sneaky when
she plays off with something I want to be paws off. Lucky for her she
is adorable--especially when she flops down next to me and lets me pet
her belly.
A great big shout out goes out to my baby girl Tobago with fond
memories of precious Joey.
jules hathaway


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Conversations In Black

Conversations In Black

Adult Social Justice IT
"...This book is intended to be a discussion starter, and I hope
you will form your own groups to extend the conversation about the
ideas expressed here. Have these conversations in your home, dorm
room, club meeting, barbershop, hair salon, church, workplace, and
anywhere else you gather. Each chapter ends with questions to help
you jump-start these discussions, and the goal is to prompt action..."
Career journalist Ed Gordon had conducted many award winning
televised interviews with national celebrities and leaders. However,
he found the most fascinating conversations to occur after the filming
stopped. What if the public had access to them? What if, through
virtual conversations, Black people had access to the thoughts of
Black influencers on a number of crucial topics? That is the exciting
premise his Conversations In Black so beautifully fulfills.
There are chapters on topics such as the Obama and Trump
presidencies and their implications for Blacks, voting, economics,
education, and media images of Blacks. Each chapter brings together
the thoughts of a wide range of Black influencers from a myriad of
fields and life experiences. Each is bookended by a list of
participants in the discussion and a list of questions through which
local discussion groups can relate the content to what is going on in
their own neighborhoods.
In the last chapter Gordon reminds Black readers that this time
we are all living in is a critical one. Racism on steroids is working
in both dramatic and systematic ways to turn black the clock on the
gains Blacks have fought so hard and sacrifced so much to attain. The
unacceptable must not be accepted.
"At the end of the day, we hold the power of change in our own
hands. I hope this book has inspired you to start your own
conversations and to look for ways that you can help create new
narratives of change. Black power and independence are in the air,
and finally grasping them may only be a conversation away. It's time
to start talking."
This is not a book to skim and set aside. The depth in which
issues are covered and the range of opinions give plenty of food for
thought and make reading it a marathon rather than a sprint. For
Blacks it could make a wonderful bridge from cognition and passion to
the action that is the end goal. For waking up Whites (like this
reviewer) it's a great opportunity to shut up and hopefully gain some
insights we would not otherwise be privy to, insights that can help us
better understand and relate to the Black people in our professional
and personal lives. While, as Gordon reminds us, it's a time for
Blacks to start talking, it's also a time for Whites to start
listening. If we do that enough maybe, just maybe, we can be part of
the solution instead of most of the problem.
On a purrrsonal note, my hate hate relationship with computers may
have taken a turn for the better. Wednesday I went to a multicultural
center lunch and learn. A woman was talking about digitalized
resources regarding Black history. She talked about periods in time I
learned about by reading books. I was all, I can learn more about
them and maybe even discover more books to read using my computer and
the list she gave me. Cool! It was the first time I have ever used
computer and cool in the same thought. I may be moving from hate hate
to hate tolerate or maybe even hate like a little.
A great big shout out to the people who go to all the challenging work
of locating and digitalizing really old records such as Civil War
enlistment records for people who want to trace their ancestry.
jules hathaway


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Friday, February 28, 2020

The Baking Cookbook for Teens

The Baking Cookbook for Teens

YA/adult cookbook
"Welcome, new bakers! I had a serious sweet tooth as a kid,
which is why I started baking at a pretty young age. As soon as I was
old enough to use the electric mixer and stove on my own, you can bet
the first thing I did was start whipping up sweet treats any time my
mom would let me. I found that baking satisfied something in me that
went beyond appetite--it became a creative outlet, a way for me to
show my love for family and friends, a way to honor and celebrate
people I cared about on special occasions, and quite honestly, a way
to impress people. Also, it was lots of fun."
I sure can relate to those words from Robin Donovan's
introduction to her The Baking Cookbook for Teens. When I was a kid
using cooking appliances was a privilege that had to be earned. I was
thrilled when I was deemed responsible enough to bake solo. I decided
to bake something no one in my family had ever seen. I scanned my
friends' mothers' women's magazines until, right before Valentines
Day, I learned how to make a heart shaped cake. I did it with such
secrecy! Decades later I can still remember the excitement my
creation generated.
I has a mother who introduced me to baking. Lots of today's
teens and young adults, growing up in a time of mixes and store bought
treats, didn't have that luxury. The Baking Cookbook for Teens is a
great addition to home libraries or first apartment gift. The
pictures will hook the reader into at least scanning the recipes:
*candy bar cookies;
*red velvet cheesecake bars;
*a lemon pudding cake that separates into two layers while baking;
*giant soft pretzels,
*thin crust pizza...
With over 75 recipes, there's something for everyone. The first two
chapters, which I would strongly urge new bakers to not skip over,
provide a wealth of background information.
When Donovan hit her teens, she wanted to expand her repetoire.
Only there were no teen specific cookbooks. She had to scan adult
cookbooks for recipes that weren't totally out of her league skills or
ingedients wise just like I scanned women's magazines. As an adult
she wrote the book she'd wished she had back in the day.
We can be very glad that she did.
On a purrrsonal note, I learned about Kentucky falling through just
hours before class when it was my week to lead a starter activity I
had designed. The topic of the week was classism. I chose two
articles I felt people in my social justice class would find engaging:
one on the admissions cheating scandal and the other on rising food
insecurity on college and university campuses. I had questions that
tied the articles in with the textbook readings. My grade would be
based on my ability to engage my classmates. They were very animated
and engaged. My professor said I did an excellent job. So I didn't
let the bad news make me screw up.
Well things aren't as bad as they looked. There will be a
conference in Maine (as in driving distance) by that same group fall
semester I'll probably be able to present my poster at. And in April
I'll probably get practice showing it at a symposium on campus.
But it would have been so great to network and get ideas in
Kentucky. Where I won't be going anywhere and most of my friends will
be away and I might actually be caught up with homework, what in the
world will I do with nine days? I've warned my advisor I might
spending them in a geek orgy--reading, reviewing, playing with
Tobago, and maybe making a thrift shop run. For some reason she does
not seem alarmed.
jules hathaway


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Thursday, February 27, 2020

Don't Date Rosa Santos

Don't Date Rosa Santos

YA fiction
Soup simmered, wind chimes sang softly, and candles lit the way
back to my room. I was home, and talking about Cuba had no place
here. Mimi was never returning. My mother was always leaving, and I
was a flightless bird left at her harbor, searching for answers that
were buried at the bottom of a sea that I could not know."
Rosa, protagonist of Nina Moreno's Don't Date Rosa Santos, is in
a world of confusion. She had chosen a college with a one semester
study abroad program in Cuba. But just as she had been working on how
to tell the expatriate grandmother she lives with, a woman who doesn't
want to discuss her native island, the program is cancelled. Now she
has no idea which of the colleges she's been accepted to she wants to
attend or whether she still wants to major in Latin studies.
Deadlines are approaching fast.
Rosa's family presents challenges. Her father died before she
was born. Her artist mother travels most of the time, dropping in
randomly and leaving just as unpredictably. She and her mother don't
get along, making a challenging millieu for Rosa to navigate.
And then there's the family curse. Rosa's grandfather drowned
smuggling his pregnant wife to America. Her father's boat went down
in a storm when her mother was pregnant. In Rosa's small community it
is believed that a boy with a boat who falls for a Santos woman is
doomed...
...which could be bad news because Rosa is falling for Alex.
Alex has a boat...
...and you'll have to read the book to see how that plays out.
On a purrrsonal note, did you ever have something you set your heart
on and worked to make happen become impossible? That happened to me
on Tuesday. Recall I was set to do a poster presentation on a unique
arrangement UMaine dining has with Black Bear Exchange at an
international conference in Kentucky? I was looking forward to flying
to Kentucky with friends, staying in a hotel, meeting other people in
higher education who share my passion, learning ideas to take back to
UMaine, bringing credit to my beloved school, and maybe inspiring
other schools to follow our example. Well it turns out that there is
a policy forbidding student plane travel. So Kentucky fell through.
I think I learned at the worst possible time, namely hours before...
...you can learn what in my next purrrsonal note.
A great big shout out goes out to my friends who are totally
understanding how frustrated I am.
jules hathaway


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Monday, February 24, 2020

Educated

Educated

Adult memoire
I was in North Carolina visiting my family. The lights in the
store I was in suddenly went out. I immediately started looking for
Harriet. When she (then he was a she) saw me she said, "I thought at
least you'd be taken." Harriet had attributed the blackout to the
arrival of the Rapture rather than shortcomings on the part of
Carolina Power & Light. She had been left behind because she'd
slipped from the proper redeemed mindset by looking through packages
of women's cotton panties to find one in her size. Through Harriet
I'd gained insight into the waiting on the end times frame of mind.
It was not a family thing. Mom, a regularly attending
Episcopalian until having a severely brain damaged daughter and
working took all her time and energy, was on the highway to Hell
because, among other things, her garments revealed her arms and legs.
I was a member of the redeemed despite my much skimpier attire because
most of the time I lived about a thousand miles away. Harriet could
see me as she wanted to without being contradicted by everyday reality.
In the years I volunteered at the Bangor Public Library I saw
the families visiting in search of safe enough home schooling
materials. Often the whole family dressed like they had stepped out
of Little House On The Prairie. The wife and children always seemed
pale and subdued. The husband/father was, in their eyes, lord and
master. I wondered what those poor kids had to deal with.
Tara Westover's memoir, Educated, gave me a glimpse into that
way of life. She was born, the youngest of seven children, in an
isolated part of rural Idaho. She missed out on many things most of
us take for granted because of her father's beliefs concerning
government conspiricies. She and her siblings didn't attend public
school. Even the most severe injuries and illnesses were treated with
home remedies rather than visits to hospital, doctor, or dentist. Her
mother, with no formal training whatsoever became an unlicensed midwife.
Of course to that family the end times were as much a reality as
degree attainment is to me. Not sure when it will happen, but it will
happen. Summers were spent canning and storing. Bunkers would hold
food and gas so they'd be eating and driving when the wicked were
starving. Guns for self defense were buried in the ground.
In theory Westover and her siblings were homeschooled. But
earning money to get off the grid and prepare for the end times took
precedence over all else. The sons worked in the father's junkyard and
the daughters helped their mother prepare herbal remedies. The three
older boys had been in public school until they were pulled out. In
one of them, Tyler, the schooling took. Even after he was pulled out
of the classroom he taught himself from textbooks whenever he could
find a few minutes. One day he left his family home for college.
Not surprisingly, Tyler was the one who reached out to Westover
to encourage her to follow in his footsteps. Somehow she was able to
study enough to ace the ACT and get accepted into Brigham Young
University, a strange and confusing new world, one that contradicted
everything she'd been taught at home and taught her many things that
the other students took for granted but she had never imagined. Her
path through it and beyond makes for a really fascinating narrative.
On a purrrsonal note, today was the second day of Higher Education
Hello. That's when people who have been accepted to my program spend
time here seeing what we're like and interviewing for GAs. Students
who are already here are encouraged to hang out with them and help
them to feel welcome. That's what I did today. It was so much fun.
And there are some students I really want to see join us.
A great big shout out goes out to our visitors with best wishes for
each to find his/her/their best possible program!
jules hathaway



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Sunday, February 23, 2020

What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Blacker

What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Blacker

Adult memoir
"...Only someone so comfortably ensconced in privilege that they
need to find ways to fabricate closeness to death to feel alive would
leave their bed and blankets and house and clothes and city and tens
of thousands of years of civilization devoted to finding more
efficient ways to protect us from the elements in the dead of winter
to belly flop into a billion gallons of toxic ice..."
In the introduction to his What Doesn't Kill You Makes You
Blacker: A Memoir In Essays Damon Young explains why the annual New
Years Day Polar Bear Plunge into the Monongahela is "some white-people
shit". As a black (I am using lower case because the author did), he
has never had to try anything like extreme sports because being black
in everyday situations (i.e., spotting a police car in the rear view
mirror) provides more than enough terror. There's a lot of anger on
the pages:
"How else are you supposed to react when first learning about
redlining; when first learning about lynching; when first having
gerrymandering and gentrification explained to you; when first
studying the myriad and colossal racial disparities in everything from
income to education..."
But there is also a celebration of the beauty that can exist in the
face of adversity and a lot of humor. The 16 essays that follow
include:
*Living While Black Killed My Mother: His mother died of lung cancer
after five years of suffering from symptoms that weren't taken
seriously enough. If she had been listened to better, had had better
tests, and had had the quality of medical care upper-middle-class
white women receive would the disease have been caught in time to
really make a difference? If she hadn't lived with extreme stress in
a community specifically targeted by cigarette manufacturers would she
have developed a decades long smoking addiction?;
*No Homo explores the complex intersectionality involving maleness,
blackness, and sexual orientation;
and *Three Niggas explains why, no matter how "down" a white may
believe himself to be, his unearned use of the word nigga is an act of
cultural violence.
The chapter that got to me the most was the one he wrote about
his beloved daughter, Zoe. He and his wife will do their best to
teach her about her racial heritage and equip her for a world that
will often be less than welcoming and affirming.
"She is still in danger. She is still thought to be a threat.
She will still have people see her and assume she's older and stronger
and tougher than she actually is...She will still have her
intelligence doubted, as if it's not possible to be that black and
also be that sharp. She will still have to watch racism and sexism
join forces and attempt to pathologize her..."
Everyone who rocks white privilege like I do and is work enough
to realize than racism is systems deep and pervasive enough to be
invisible to many really should read What Doesn't Kill You Makes You
Blacker.
On a purrrsonal note, it's exactly two months since Tobago chose me at
the Humane Society in Waterville and became Tobago Anna (after my
manager who brought us together and is her godmother) Hathaway. As I
write this, she's sun soaking contentedly on Adam's old bed. Her new
vet has declared her the picture of feline health. She seems very
happy, contented, and trusting. She engages eagerly with Eugene and
me and brings a lot of joy and playfulness into our home. She shows
very little interest in objects specifically marketed as cat toys.
She can amuse herself with just about anything else. She can bat a
plastic Gatorade bottle top up and down the length of the house. My
smaller stuffed animals show up in many strange places. She can talk
on my smart phone. When I clean she helps me by picking small objects
up and moving them to new places. The only challenge is nights. Due
to her nocturnal urges to play, I haven't had a good nights sleep
since I brought her home. But I went through that with three
infants. And I'm sure I'll be able to figure something out. After
all she brings so much joy to our family.
Great big shout outs go out to Tobago, Anna, the fine folks at
Waterville Humane Society, and the Veazie Vet crew for their
willingness to take on a new Hathaway critter.
jules hathaway





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Saturday, February 22, 2020

the Last True Poets of the Sea

the Last True Poets of the Sea

"The Larkin family isn't just lucky--they persevere. At least
that's what Violet and her younger brother, Sam, were always told.
When the Lyric sank off of the coast of Maine, their great-great-great
grandmother didn't drown like the rest of the passengers. No, Fidelia
swam to shore, fell in love, and founded Lyric, Maine, the town Violet
returned to every summer."
Now and then, after I do a book review, when I look at the
jacket blurb I wonder if the person who wrote it and I had read the
same book. Of course we had. We had just read it from very different
perspectives. Julia Drake's the Last True Poets of the Sea aroused
that feeling very strongly in me.
The other reviewer focussed on the shipwreck Violet and Sam had
dreamed of finding and Violet's renewed interest in locating it.
Basically the whole town history is built around Fidelia's survival
and marriage. The unofficial town motto reads, "Their love was our
beginning." That strand of the story in itself is enough to make a
great read.
The strand that resonated the most with me, though, was the
reason Violet was at Lyric and Sam wasn't. Just like Violet, I was
the normal sibling of a very fragile child. Sam is very smart but
unable to perceive and deal with reality like most people do. His
crises, large and small, are normally the focus of his parents...until
Violet gets suspended from school for smoking weed. Then when they
are distracted trying to turn her life around Sam tries to commit
suicide. So that summer Sam is in a youth psychiatric facility and
Violet is in the custody of her uncle.
There's a lot to occuppy Violet. There's the search for papers
and other artifacts that can narrow down the shipwreck search area.
There's a job at an aquarium with a cute and intriguing coworker.
There is the community she's becoming a part of. But there's also the
untangling of the complex and sometimes contradictory feelings she has
about Sam and the discovery of who she can be when she isn't in his
shadow.
For this reason, although with the shipwreck tale the Last True
Poets of the Sea will appeal to a wide range of YA readers, I consider
it a must read for teens like Violet and me back in the day.
On a purrrsonal note, it's been a good week with two really good
things happening. One was that Georgia, Maddie, and I did our
PowerPoint in class and it went really well. The other was that a
Multicultural Center lunch and learn I saw the UMaine president. I
told her how I'm going to be doing a poster presentation on the
partnership dining has with Black Bear Exchange to provide food to
students in need, one that is so far unique, at an international
conference. She was impressed. It will be good publicity.
A great big shout out goes out to Georgia and Maddie. It was great
working with you.
jules hathaway


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Friday, February 21, 2020

No More Excuses

No More Excuses

YA nonfiction
"Within a few hours, the girl was stumbling drunk and barely
able to talk. The party was getting out of hand. The girl became a
target of a group of students who taunted her for being drunk. A
Steubenville High baseball player urged other boys to urinate on her.
The gathered crowd thought that was hilarious..."
I'm sure you won't be at all surprised to learn that that
incident taken from Amber J. Keyser's No More Excuses: Dismantling
Rape Culture ended up in far from consensual sex and that the
indignities the teen was subjected to were filmed and posted on social
media. You probably also won't be surprised to learn that she was
accused of trying to ruin the reputations of her assailants and that
her family got a lot of hate when she reported the crime.
What's wrong with this picture?
Well for one thing it's so frequent in today's America. You
recall Brock Turner, the golden boy student athlete who somehow saw
unconsciousness as proof of consent? He served only three months for
sexual assault. The judge said a harsher penalty "would have had a
severe impact on him." His father said he shouldn't have had to pay
too high a price for "twenty minutes of action." Where was thought of
the severe impact his "twenty minutes of action" had on his victim?
What message was sent out to student athletes and other high school
and college A listers? In what culture can a crime of violence be
described as twenty minutes of action, sort of like a trip to the gym.
According to Keyser, we grow up and live in a rape culture. The
myriad forms of sexual harassment that range from subway and school
hallway groping to out and out rape are considered normal, so normal
that twenty percent of American women (including this reviewer) are
rape victims, so normal that threat assessments are an integral part
of women's routines.
"But it takes a lot of time and emotional energy to be on the
alert all the time. It influences the way women and other
marginalized peoples spend their time and where they choose to go and
how they plan their daily activities. When harassment and the threat
of sexual assault are everywhere, it limits women in ways that
straight, white men aren't limited. And most men don't even realize
it."
In No More Excuses Keyser explains what this all boils down to
for females at the vulnerable stage where they're figuring out what
sexuality means personally in a world where male peers are often
taught that "no means yes and yes means anal" and breakups can result
in the social media publication of nude pictures. Some of the topics
include:
*the harm in myths like boys will be boys and should just be ignored
or if he harasses you it just means he likes you;
*the ways popular culture objectifies female bodies and causes shame
and anxiety in girls and women;
*the double standards and objectification inherent in most school
dress codes;
and *the intersectionality of slut shaming through which classism and
racism make some females more vulnerable than others.
There's a lot to be for our daughters to be angry about in the
book. But there is good news also that, through movements like
#MeToo, rape culture can be dismantled. There are many suggestions on
actions all of us can take.
This fine book should be in every public and middle and high
school library. And it should be encouraged reading for students of
all genders.
On a purrrsonal note, I am more than ready for spring to arrive. This
isn't about snow. I love snow. I find it beautiful and magical. I
really enjoy sledding and snow sculpture and constructing forts and
snow ball fights. I appreciate how white gold helps a lot of families
including mine earn added income when heating fuel costs really bump
up the cost of living. What I'm more than tired of are two prosaic
realities of bus commuting.
1) The arctic blasts of frigid temps. In Penobscot County we're
having too many sub zero windchill days when the air hurts going into
your lungs and double gloved fingers morph into icicles.
2) Ice underfoot. Navigating the roads in the trailer park requires
the caution of rock climbing. Even the kids are tired of falling.
Believe me, I'm in the majority opinion on that topic.
A great big shout out goes out to those of my readers who are also
slogging through what hopefully are the last weeks of winter. Hang in
there! Warmer days are on the way!
jules hathaway



Sent from my iPod

Thursday, February 20, 2020

Slay

Slay

YA fiction
"By day, I'm an honors student at Jefferson Academy. At night,
I turn into the Nubian goddess most people know as Emerald."
Kiera, protagonist of Brittney Morris' Slay, spends much of her
nights corunning and fixing glitches on the multiplayer video game,
Slay, that she has developed. It's deeper than the name would imply,
based on Black history and culture. It's the only space she has where
she can be her authentic self. And she's proud to have created a
space where tens of thousands of people can be their authentic selves.
This is a pride Kiera keeps to herself in her off line life,
concocting ruses to keep friends and family from discovering her
virtual world. When her boyfriend, Malcolm, wants to come over to her
house one night she pleads homework in his least favorite subject.
"...He'd ask me why I've poured so much effort into a video game
when I could be focusing on college prep and getting a good job, so I
don't join what he is constantly reminding me of: the mass of Black
people who waste their time on video games, junk food, drugs,
unemployment, baby daddy drama, and child support. According to him,
video games are distractions promoted by society to slowly erode the
focus and ambition of Black men..."
At school Kiera, her sister, Steph, and Malcolm are the sole
representatives of their race and considered to be THE authorities on
all things Black, like if Whites are allowed to get dreads. Although
at times she's tempted to let Steph in on the world she's created,
unsure how her family will react, she doesn't. She doesn't want to do
anything that might possibly cause the destruction of her beloved game.
Then a boy a little younger than Kiera is killed over slay.
Some people are calling the game racist. There is talk of a lawsuit.
Will Kiera lose what she has worked so hard to create--a space where
she and so many others can feel comfortable and confident?
You'll really want to read the book to see.
On a purrrsonal note, I had an epiphany regarding computers. In the 3
1/3 semesters I've been in graduate school a number of assignments
have involved computer skills I don't have. Then it's always OMG it's
due so SOON! So far I've gotten by with a lot of my friends. Crisis
mode is getting old fast, especially where I've decided I want to go
beyond my masters. I've decided I am going to find out what skills I
need and create projects that will create something in my field while
making these skills my own. Wish me luck.
A great big shout out goes out to all my friends who help me survive
my computer crises.
jules hathaway






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Monday, February 17, 2020

Getting Kids Outside

Getting Kids Outside

Juvenile nonfiction
For years people have been writing treatises on the physical,
psychological, and social benefits kids gain when they spend
relatively unstructured time outside. But many of us can't find ways
to slow down our busy family schedules to allow for this. Some of us
see too many dangers in letting them outside. And we all know what
happens when we nag our kids to put down those electronic devices and
get some fresh air. The electronics become even more irresistible.
"Aww, just one more game. I'm on level 27."
Kids will go outside if it's their idea and if they know about
enchanting and exciting prospects. Two relatively inexpensive books,
just out last year, give kids inspiration and agency while reminding
them they will need adult help or supervision for a few of the tasks.
Ruby McConnell's A Girls Guide to the Wild focuses on developing
camping skills. It starts small with day hikes and goes on to longer
adventures. All necessary details like packing, choosing appropriate
clothes, setting up shelter, and pooping and peeing in the woods are
included. The recipes are anything but same old, lame old. A number
of science based skills, including how to protect nature, are touched
upon.
Ben and Penny Hewitt's The Young Adventurers Guide To (Almost)
Everything is a more general guide divided into four sections.
Secrets of the Woods includes skills like weather forcasting, finding
wild snacks (including insects), surviving a night in the woods,
navigating by the stars, and making a fire from sticks. The Best
Camping Trip Ever clues wannabe campers in on crucial stuff like
protecting food from varmints, rendering first aid, finding a good
place to pitch a tent, building a cooking fire, and, of course,
pooping and peeing outside. The last two sections cover crafts
projects ranging from constructing a log raft to creating a one of a
kind journal.
If you have a child I suggest that you purchase either (or both)
of these books and leave it where he/she/they will pick it up out of
curiosity.
On a purrrsonal note, I had an absolutely purrrfect day. I got all
the computer work I needed to do at Fogler Library without the
computer blowing up or the tech help person quitting his work study
gig. And there were still daylight hours for a GOODWILL RUN!!! At
the place where people switch buses I was looking at the pigeons and
feeling guilty for not having bread or something on me. I saw this
pigeon with incredible markings that looked like it had a giant
dragonfly on its back. By the time I got my smartphone with its
camera out of my backpack it had vanished into the flock. So I was
walking on ice and snow to find it. It kept walking. The snow glare
made it impossible to see what was in my viewfinder. But then it
stopped and almost posed and I got my purrrfect pigeon picture. (Hey,
that was outdoor pigeon stalking.) At Goodwill I found two cat shirts
(including a Grumpy cat shirt that is like the Holy Grail of cat
shirts), a cat nightshirt, and gingerbread man slippers. At Hannaford
I scored a bunch of half price valentines candy. I saw my friend Lisa
who gave me a heads up on a Christmas cat sweater at the BBE. The bus
was right at Hannaford when I stepped out the door. I didn't have to
cook because I had leftovers to microwave. Eugene gave me two candy
bars. And I had sweet Tobago to come home to.
Don't you love purrrfect days like that?
A great big shout out goes out to the tech savvy students who work at
Fogler helping the less than savvy (like yours truly) accomplish our
computer involving homework and Tobago who was so happy when I got home.
jules hathaway


Sent from my iPod

Saturday, February 15, 2020

Path To The Stars

Path To The Stars

Juvenile biography
"I've come a long way since those nights standing out side in
our yard under a blanket of brilliant stars. When I was in elementary
school most girls I knew wanted to grow up to raise a family and keep
house. Few of them planned on going to college and finding a job that
they loved. If they pictured themselves earning a living, it was
never as a mechanic or an engineer or a scientist, jobs they--and
everyone else we knew--considered to be men's work."
Sylvia Acevedo, author of Path To The Stars, was one of the few
to conquer that unchartered territory. It was not an easy journey.
She grew up in a traditional Hispanic American family.
"In our culture, sons were valued over daughters. My father
loved me, but he had different expectations for Mario and me. Papa
expected me to get good grades, but it was never with the same
interest that he took in my brother. Papa never asked me what I
wanted to be when I grew up the way Mami did. I knew he expected me
to get married, have children, and keep house, just like Mami. He
even said so sometimes."
Basically Sylvia was in charge of forging her own path. But she
didn't have to go it alone. When a classmate invited her to join a
local Brownie troop she found the structure and order, the sense of
belonging she had been yearning for. As she flew up through Girl
Scouts and Cadets she gained the skills she would need to achieve
goals such as saving college tuition.
These days schools and colleges are trying to figure out how to
get more girls and women into STEM fields, particularly those from
traditionally underserved minorities. But the fire has to be kindled
well before high school graduation. Putting Path To The Stars and
other inspiring books in elementary school libraries and encouraging
girls to read and discuss them could be a step in the right direction.
On a purrrsonal note, a little over a week ago I had a real epiphany.
Basically I figured out my path to the stars. I was making chicken
parm subs at work when it just came to me. I plan to go to school
part time and work in dining until I get my masters, doing really well
grade wise and doing projects that will make me stand out. I will
parlay my degree into a job in some branch of student affairs at
UMaine. Then I plan to use the tuition benefits to start working on
my Ph.D. in the same department. Dr. Jules Hathaway has a nice ring
to it. I've told my daughters so far and they haven't told me I'm
crazy.
A great big shout out goes out to my academic advisor who seems to
like the prospect of working with me for a long time.
jules hathaway


Sent from my iPod

A Heart In A Body In The World

A Heart In A Body In The World

YA fiction
"Why is she going? Well, sometimes you just snap. Snapping is
easy when you're already brittle from the worst possible thing
happening. It is easy when you're broken and guilty and scared. You
snap like that. Like the snap has been waiting around for the right
moment."
Snapping is probably the perfect word to describe what happens
to Annabelle, protagonist of Deb Caletti's A Heart In A Body In The
World. One moment she's in the parking lot of Dick's Drive-In.
Suddenly she's ditching her car, running down the road, her uneaten
food purchase in her hands. She runs through rain and a dangerous
part of the city. Her phone starts buzzing. She's a responsible
person. When she doesn't show up people worry. But when she calls
home the words she hits her anxious mother with aren't exactly
reassuring. She's decided not to come home. In fact she's planning
to run from Seattle to Washington D.C.
Any mother would freak out at a teenage daughter's decision to
run thousands of miles across unknown territory solo. I would have
done anything in my power to prevent Amber or Katie from doing that.
But Annabelle's mother has more reason to panic than most of us. Nine
months earlier there had been a very traumatic incident involving one
of involving one of Annabelle's classmates resulting in
PTSD.
Plus high school graduation is coming up. Not to mention how is
she going to bankroll this journey?
Only Annabelle's holding a few aces. She's going to turn legal
eighteen in five days. And she has a support team she hadn't counted
on. Her younger brother will work on logistics and deal with their
mother. Her best friends will handle on line publicity and fund
raising. And her grandfather is willing to trail behind her in his
camper, providing food, beverages, and a safe place to sleep at night.
Annabelle's run starts out with just her family and besties
involved. But as people learn about it they rally to her support.
You're invited to join her. You'll learn not only about the incident
that changed her life, but about how she may be able to not only
survive, but help others who have endured similar experiences.
A protagonist one can really care about on a daunting journey to
vanquish demons and take back her life...
...that's a for sure literary winner.
On a purrrsonal note, I had a wonderful Valentines Day. It started
the day before when I gave out cards in case I didn't make it on
campus Friday. When he got home from work Eugene gave me a beautiful
bouquet of roses. Friday's arctic blast pursuaded me to stay home to
do homework and bake Eugene's favorite molasses cake and chocolate
chip cookies. About a minute after I pulled the last batch of cookies
out of the oven and laid out the cake and cookies with a card Eugene
got home and asked if I wanted to go to Ruby Tuesdays for dinner. Did
I ever! We had a really nice meal. And on the way we'd stopped at
Brewer Goodwill where he paid for everything I picked out--a bunch of
clothes and a journal and jeweled pen set. When I got home I changed
into my new pink fuzzy onesie pajamas with hearts and romantic
penguins and came back into the kitchen to find a card and a box of
chocolates. Eugene is very much a romantic at heart. I am very
lucky--not just on Valentines Day but all year round.
Today when I set out for the bus stop the weather ap on my smart phone
said it was 2 below zero with an 11 below zero windchill. By the time
the bus arrived my fingers in gloves were stiff and I was about to
bust into a chorus of Swing Low Sweet Chariot. Now I'm at UMaine
feeling seriously bad ass because I took on arctic chill to make it to
work on time.
A great big shout out goes out to my one and only Eugene with hopes
that we'll have a lot more years together. With the right person 30
isn't anywhere near enough.
jules hathaway


Sent from my iPod

Friday, February 14, 2020

Redwood and Ponytail

Redwood and Ponytail

YA fiction
If you've been following this blog for any length of time you
know that romance is the genre dead last on my to read list. Any kind
of romance. But now and then there is the book that is so non
formulaic, so special that I end up reading it cover to cover and
loving it. K. A. Holt's Redwood and Ponytail, told in free verse, is
one of the beautiful exceptions. I was sad when I came to the last
page, wanting to know where life would take the main characters next.
And today's Valentines Day which makes it the purrrfect day to post
this review.
Ponytail (Kate) is the popular, perky cheerleader, every hair in
place, bow at a perfect angle.
"I love it!
At least I think I do.
I always have loved it,
so surely this year will be the same.
School itself is neither here nor there
but all the kids and clubs and stuff?
That's the fun part.
Right?"
Her mom was cheer captain in the day and is helping Kate follow in her
sneaker steps. Maybe tickets to a popular concert for the whole squad
will help seal the deal.
Redwood (Tam) is a tall athlete who does not dress for cheer
success.
"Yeah, I could hit a basket or two.
Yeah, I could play some ball.
But I'm not his son.
I'm not a man.
And just because
I'm wearing a snapback
and Chucks,
that doesn't mean I'm a dude."
School for her is not all about the clubs and the kids. Her social
life is pretty much built around one boy who has been her bestie since
kinder. Her mom is a hippy who has no intention of making her over
into superficial perfection.
So you'd think they would not enter the same social orbit, never
mind fall in mutual love. But one day Kate sits with Tam at lunch
instead of her usual cheer crowd. And another day Tam is going to the
football game to watch Kate cheer. Yet another day Kate watches Tam's
volleyball game. They're meeting each other's moms. They're having
feelings they don't understand.
"...The more I see her,
the more we talk,
the bigger the wave gets,
the more I feel...
swept up."
Then one day it happens. As Kate and Tam walk together to
class, their pinkies, swinging in parallel arcs, bump and then
intertwine. They're walking through school holding hands.
But what does this mean? Where do they go from that point? And
how do they deal with people who won't approve...
...like a certain mom who won't let anything stand in the way of
her daughter claiming the number one cheer spot.
On a purrrsonal note, I have ambivolant feelings about today. I love
the idea of a day of expressing love and appreciation for everyone who
matters. I hate how it's so commercialized like unless someone spends
too much buying you jewelery and candy and flowers you're nada. I
hate how it's all about romance so a lot of people who aren't in
relationships feel lonely. I say let's take it back. I make it a day
to celebrate every being who helps make my life super worth living,
yes, my husband, but also my incredible kids, my work and school
friends, the academic advisor who remains enthusiastic and supportive
through my unconventional academic career, the manager who took me to
Waterville to help me find the cat who was all I wanted for Christmas,
and the dear cat who is right now snoozing contentedly in her loft.
Not to mention precious Joey cat who was my best little friend for 16
years until cancer stole him from me.
A great big shout out goes out to you, my readers, whose loyalty I
greatly appreciate. This my valentines card to you. May your
Valentines Day be all you hoped for. And may you deny the grinches of
big bidbess the chance to make it all about bling.
jules hathaway



Sent from my iPod

Fighting for the Forest

Fighting for the Forest

Juvenile nonfiction
If you know much about the Great Depression, you realize that
the year 1933 was a very grim one for a lot of people. A few years
earlier the Stock Market had crashed. Businesses, factories, and
banks were going under. People were losing jobs, savings, and homes.
Folks had to live in cars or shacks thrown together out of whatever
they could get their hands on. Malnutrition and hunger were rampant.
"Imagine going whole days with nothing to eat or putting ketchup
on a piece of bread and calling it dinner. Children felt real pain in
their stomachs because of the hunger. They went to bed hungry and
woke to go to school without breakfast..."
President Hoover who was in office the first three years of the
Depression believed (like so many people in government today) that
government had no business messing around in people's economic lives.
That was the domain of "voluntary organizations and community
service." This attitude didn't win him a lot of public support. The
shanty towns of the desperately poor were called Hoovervilles. And he
lost the election of 1932 to Franklin Delano Roosevelt.
Roosevelt felt that government was the only entity big enough to
save the country and its citizens. Under the umbrella term of New
Deal he introduced what some people called an alphabet soup of relief
programs. The one that was perhaps dearest to his heart was the CCC
(Civilian Conservation Corps).
Unemployment was very high among teens and young adults. Much
farmland was being lost to erosion. Forests were being overused.
National parks were being neglected. Roosevelt believed that putting
young men to work in fresh air and healthy surroundings (with enough
wholesome food) he could save both human and natural resources. P.
O'Connell Pearson's Fighting for the Forest is a great way to
introduce younger readers to this fascinating chapter in American
history.
On a purrrsonal note, Wednesday I donated blood. Then I volunteered
at canteen the rest of the day making sure people were eating and
drinking and not fainting and enjoying my captive audience for Tobago
pictures and stories. They did seem to enjoy the pictures (a bunch
showed me pictures of their cats) and stories. We got these really
cool shirts for donating. They actually have a cat on them. We got
72 donations and no fainters which made it an excellent day.
A great big shout out goes out to all people involved in the blood
drive and sweet little Tobago who is napping contentedly. Also dear
Joey cat whose memory I treasure. This is my first Valentines Day
without him and I so miss his way of making every day Valentines Day.
jules hathaway



Sent from my iPod

Thursday, February 13, 2020

Wild And Crooked

Wild And Crooked

YA fiction
"Even the road to my conception was totally crooked and wide and
maybe that's why my parents were so eager to pop me into the
world...They were troubled teenagers themselves, and the last thing
they needed was a squalling poop machine, Tell my parents 'stop' and
they slam on the gas."
Kalyn-Rose and her mother have just returned to her mom's
hometown. Her grandmother needs in home care. That's what her mom
does for work. She's not eager to start a new high school. In fact
her arrival there requires a nudge from the truant officer."
"Most people who meet me? I know how they're going to describe
me later. Commentary on my personality or clothes will never be
anyone's go tos. The minute I'm out of earshot, I'm 'Gus, that kid
obsessed with Alexander McQueen.' Nope. I'm eternally 'Gus, the
disabled kid.'
Or sometimes I'm 'Gus, the kid whose dad got murdered.'
Gus has lived in Samsboro, Kentucky all his life. He dresses to
blend in, to not evoke pity. Most of the people in his small town
know him. But every time a school year starts there are new people
with their curiosity, their intrusive questions, and their
condescending offers of help. "...I may walk a bit like a crab, but
I'm actually only crabby when strangers point it out."
Gus' very socially inept best friend, Phil, gets an instant
crush on Kalyn-Rose. He asks Gus to be his romance wingman, to talk
her into a homecoming date. Only when they get to talking, after a
week of anxious stalking on Gus' part, they begin to build their own
friendship, one that becomes increasingly important to both of them...
...one that may be doomed from the start as in star crossed.
Think Romeo and Juliet. Gus is the only son of a home town hero
athlete from a good family who was tragically killed, leaving behind a
beautiful pregnant widow. Kalyn-Rose's dad, doing serious time in
prison, was the boy from the wrong side of the tracks who killed him.
In small towns people are very good at carrying grudges,
especially in regard to the pivotal event in local history. Kalyn-
Rose's mom has gone to great lengths to disguise her identity. But
that might not be enough...
...especially when the Innocence Fighters Association is
reopening the murder case, confident that DNA evidence will exonerate
her dad...
...which is stirring up quite a hornet's nest. The townspeople
have achieved closure. They aren't at all pleased at the prospect of
a man they considered guilty as Hell having his conviction overturned,
possibly to once again walk among them.
Happy reading!
On a purrrsonal note, I had a really awesome Monday. I went to
campus. I found out that we had bagels and coffee at the commuter
lounge since it had been snowed out Friday. Then there was a campus
activities program called Fresh Check. It was an engaging way of
raising the issue of suicide prevention. We learned to recognize the
signs in friends and loved ones. Also there were a bunch of tables
with activities. Each of the participants had a passport which we got
stamped at each table in order to earn a stuff a friend reindeer.
(Mine is white with silver antlers, nose, and hooves. I named her
Tobago after my kitty). I talked to a lot of people after and they
really appreciated the program.
I only was sad about one table. People were paired up. We each wrote
down what we saw attractive about the other. I looked at my person
carefully and wrote about her sparkly eyes and friendly smile and
lovely skin tone. She wrote that I am wise. Like what the Hell? But
I knew what the Hell. She just saw the silver in my hair and let her
stereotype kick in. First of all older = wiser is bullshit. If it
was true we wouldn't have a septegenarian president having Twitter
tantrums. Second it pins people to one role like a butterfly in a
collection. I am wise but also silly, affectionate, playful,
passionate, and often quite dramatic. Good thing I know I'm
attractive. So I looked in a mirror and told myself what I wish she'd
bother to notice.
A great big shout out goes out to the people who made these events
possible. They were the cat's pajamas!
jules hathaway



Sent from my iPod

Tuesday, February 11, 2020

Rise! continued

Rise! continued

I just realized that I posted my review of Rise! before I added my
purrrsonal note and shout out. As in maybe I should listen to the
little voice in my head when it says something common sense like,
maybe you should do this in the morning when your brain is clearer.
You ever have that happen to you?
On a purrrsonal note, I have something super to share. It's the
exciting event I promised to tell you about earlier this month. I'll
be going to an international conference on hunger in March. I'd sent
in a proposal to do a poster on how UMaine dining services provides
good food to Black Bear Exchange which is the student food pantry/
clothing exchange. January 31 I got an email starting with
congratulations. I screamed out loud right in the super quiet Raymond
Fogler library!!! It's like a dream come true. And it will make
UMaine and dining look so good!!!
A great big shout out goes out to my sweet little Tobago kitty. I've
been showing her latest pictures and people just love her.
jules hathaway




Sent from my iPod

Monday, February 10, 2020

Rise!

Rise!

Juvenile herstory
"My grandmother believed that courage started with the
simplicity of realizing that there are no monsters under the bed. Or,
if you do have human monsters to overcome, courage was an inner virtue
that could be developed early. As she moved past the pains of her own
childhood and managed that pain, she came to believe: 'My mission in
life is not merely to survive, but to thrive; and to do so with some
passion, some compassion, some humor, and some style."...
In a world that tried to thwart that mission. Maya Angelou (née
Marguerite Annie Johnson) was born into the Jim Crow world in 1928.
And race wasn't the only hardship she faced early on. There was
trauma in her early years including rape by her mother's then
boyfriend when she was six. The above quote by her grandson, Colin
Johnson, is taken from the forward to Bethany Hegedus' Rise: From
Caged Bird To Poet Of The People.
It takes a masterful story teller to tailor Angelou's story to
elementary school students without Disneyfying it. Hegedus does this
masterfully. Tonya Engel's illustrations that combine realism with
the portrayal of emotion are the perfect accompaniment to the text.
*Maya and her brother, Bailey, spent significant amounts of time with
their grandmother, Annie, in the small rural town of Stamps,
Arkansas. It was a place of peacefulness for them.
"...safety lies in the sameness
of the faces who greet
and are greeted.
after laboring in the fields,
handing over their hard earned coins
each day."
A picture combines the faces of the two children with a map containing
pictures of familiar and beloved places.
*The man who molested Maya spent only one night in jail and then was
found dead. Sure that she had caused his death, she became mute for
nearly six years.
A picture in scary nighttime colors shows Maya curled up on a bed with
a menacing shadow on one wall.
*At the age of eighty-six,
this phenomenal woman
who spent a lifetime breaking free,
finally rests her wings.
As her heart
beats its last beat..."
An empty cage with open door is in the corner. Two hands release a
beautful bird that soars into the sky...
...and when you turn the page you see a girl reading her books.
"...her words
her words
still rise.
They will always
rise
rise
rise."
Rise! is a perfect way to introduce younger readers to one of
America's most significant writers. It's also a wonderful read for
her many adult fans.
On a purrrsonal note,



Sent from my iPod

They Called Us Enemy

They Called Us Enemy

Juvenile graphic novel
Many people know of George Takai for his role in the series Star
Trek. Others may have heard of his social justice work. But probably
not many know of a pivotal period of his childhood, one he shares with
younger readers in his They Called Us Enemy.
When George was four Japan bombed Pearl Harbor. The United
States declared war against Japan. Prejudice against people of
Japanese ancestry, even those who had been born in the United States
flared up. Executive Order 9066 authorized their removal from
military areas. They lost their homes and businesses and all other
possessions beyond what they could carry. George and his parents and
siblings were among the legions transported to relocation camps.
In the graphic novel's powerful blend of words and pictures,
They Called Us Enemy shows readers the relocation experience through
the eyes of a child. It combines the experience of having all but
family stolen with the innocence and joys of childhood. It can help
kids understand what Japanese youngsters experienced back in the day...
...and immigrant children and families are enduring in the 21st
century.
On a purrrsonal note, Friday was one messy, sleety, snowy day. UMaine
was cancelled. Eugene told me I would be crazy to bus anywhere in
that. But after he got done with sleeping off his all night plowing
he gave me a ride. At Hannaford I was able to buy baking stuff and
iron rich cereal. We went to Goodwill for the first time since it's
renovations. It looks great--a lot more organized and classy. I got
a bunny shirt for a friend, cat toys for Tobago, and a journal with a
cloth cover and sequin unicorn for me. The only bummer of the day was
I'd planned to bring my laptop on campus to work on the PowerPoint I'm
doing with two classmates. I lost a day I couldn't afford to lose.
A great big shout out goes out to Eugene and the other blizzard
battlers and my blizzard buddy cats past (Joey) and present (Tobago)
jules hathaway


Sent from my iPod

Friday, February 7, 2020

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Native Son

Native Son

Adult fiction
"That next book was Native Son. As Wright later recalled, when
he started to write the story of Bigger Thomas, the basic story flowed
almost without an effort. In a real sense, he had been studying
Bigger Thomas all of his life. Wright's essential Bigger Thomas was
not so much a particular character caught in a specific episode of
criminal activity as a crime waiting to happen; all the elements to
create Biggers' mentality were historically in place in America,
stocked by the criminal racial system that was America..."
If you want to understand racial injustice in America, you need
to study history. Richard Wright's Native Son (set, by the way, in
Chicago, not a rural Southern backwater) gives a lot of insight into
racial relations in a time (the 1930s) when Jim Crow and Black Laws
were the law of the land and every space from neighborhoods to schools
and public accomodations was separate and very far from equal.
Bigger Thomas, Wright's protagonist, is to be his family's route
to avoid starvation. Taking a job driving for a wealthy family, the
Daltons, means that his mother, sister, and brother won't be taken off
relief and his siblings will be able to stay in school. His first
night he is told to drive the Dalton daughter, Mary, to a lecture at
the University. Mary, however, has another destination in mind.
After they pick up Mary's communist boyfriend, Jan, they go to a
restaurant.
At the restaurant Mary and Jan insist that Bigger do the
unthinkable--eat with them. Recall that even drinking from a "White"
water fountain could get a Black in big trouble. And relationships
between Black men and White women were strictly regulated. To keep
his job he has to obey Daltons which requires him to put himself in a
very dangerous position.
Throughout the evening Mary becomes very drunk. Back at her
home she is too intoxicated to climb the stairs to her room. Carrying
her there he is almost caught. When that danger is past he realizes
that he has accidentally suffocated her. A Black man killing a White
woman--if he's found guilty he'll pay the ultimate penalty.
On a personal note, I was disturbed by the similarities between the
time portrayed in the book and now. The most obvious is the fervor
with which the police officers tear the Black community apart in the
search for Mary's killer, disrupting the lives and livlihoods of many
innocent people. That's still going on. There was, for example, a
White guy who shot his pregnant wife and gave himself a superficial
wound, claiming a Black man had done the shooting. Black
neighborhoods in and around Boston were torn apart with many innocent
men taken down to the station. And how about all the White cops who
shoot unarmed Black people?
Another similarity is inequality in housing. In a very dramatic
beginning to the story Bigger fights a huge rat that has entered his
family's dilapidated one room apartment. The man who hires Bigger is
the slumlord to whom his family pays rent. The properties he rents to
Blacks are not only much worse, but more expensive than those he rents
to Whites. These days the blighted areas most impacted by
environmental pollutants (lead paint, toxin dumping) are inhabited by
blacks. And there's plenty more to get angry about.
A great big shout out goes out to the writers who expose the
systematic roots of racism and its evils.
jules hathaway





Sent from my iPod

Thursday, February 6, 2020

You May Now Kill The Bride

You May Now Kill The Bride

YA fiction
"Holding Rebecca like a baby, Peter lowered his face to hers and
kissed her lips. And as they kissed, he walked to the edge of the
mesa. He held the kiss for another few seconds. Then he raised her
in his arms and tossed her over the side of the cliff."
That's not what you expect a groom who has just exchanged vows
to do to his beloved during the wedding...
...unless both are characters in an R. L. Stine novel. Stine
and I go way back. His Goosebumps books were favorites of my
daughters, especially the choose your own ending ones. I spent so
many lovely rainy days and spooky evenings reading them out loud.
Until one day I was reading Stephen King out loud, assuming, in view
of Amber and Katie's increased sophistication in horror fare, I was
parting company with Stine. Only I was so wrong. Recently I
discovered that the man has moved on up to YA series. You May Now
Kill The Bride, part of the Return to Fear Street series, will be a
hit with his target demographics and well beyond.
The year is 1923. The wealthy Fear family has its dark secrets,
secrets centered in a musty, dark attic room equipped with black
candles and ancient spell books passed down through generations along
with a potent curse based on a bloody feud with another family.
Ruth-Ann has grown up in the shadow of her beautiful, vivacious
sister, Rebecca, the obvious family favorite. Finally she has a
boyfriend, Peter, who, unlike the rest of the world, doesn't make the
feel lesser than...
...until the night he doesn't show up for a date and she
discovers him slow dancing with Rebecca in a club.
"Peter was mine. I worked so hard to get him. I had to use so
much magic, cast so many frightening spells to make him mine.
Now Rebecca waltzes off with him. She thinks she's entitled to
everything."
The next day Rebecca and Peter announce their engagement at the
Fear family supper. Rather than side with jilted Ruth-Ann, her father
tells her to control herself. When Ruth-Ann declares that she will
make sure that the wedding never takes place a scornful Rebecca asks
her if she's going to cast a spell.
You'd better believe it!
The decades pass. Now another Fear wedding is about to take
place on the same mesa. A wedding where a younger sister resents the
bride. A younger sister who knows magic and isn't afraid to practice
it.
Is history about to repeat itself?
You need to read the book to see.
And I need to find more of Stine's YA offerings. Us grad
students just gotta have fun, you know.
On a purrrsonal note, I've been having an excellent week so far,
mostly school and work and homework and loving my Tobago kitty. It's
been snowing all day today. There's supposed to be more tomorrow. A
big topic of conversation in Wells Dining Commons was whether Friday
classes will be cancelled. I have to go to Bangor--2 buses each way--
no matter how the weather turns out. I have to get the ingredients
for Eugene's Valentines Day molasses cake and chocolate chip cookies.
I also have to get cereal high in iron because I ran out today and I'm
scheduled to donate blood next week. While I'm in that area I might
as well check out Goodwill for the first time since renovations--see
if there are any cat shirts, leggings, pajamas... that need to be
liberated. I'll tell you if I accomplish all my missions and find any
good stuff.
Right now Eugene is sleeping, resting up to go plow. Tobago is
napping in her loft. And the white stuff keeps coming down.
A great big shout out goes out to all who will be plowing to enable us
to drive and walk in safety, sweet little Tobago, and Joey who was a
wonderful blizzard companion in the 16 years he was with me.
jules hathaway


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Saturday, February 1, 2020

Black Cat

Black Cat

Picture book
Imagine my surprise when, shelf reading in the juvenile wing of
the the Orono Public Library, I saw a black cat with gold eyes,
looking just like my Tobago, staring at me from the cover of
Christopher Myers' Black Cat! Talk about serindipity! Myers is the
very talented son of his deservedly famous writer father, Walter Dean
Myers. And at UMaine we've just raised the flag to commence the
celebration of Black History Month.
"black cat, black cat,
cousin to the concrete,
creeping down our city streets
where will you live? where will we meet?"
Through lyric poetry and vivid collage art, readers get to
follow a city cat through Harlem and Brooklyn streets: listening to
music filtering through project windows, hunting rodents in subways,
tightrope walking on chain link fences...the epitome of beauty, grace,
resilience, totally at ease on its turf. And in the end the author
decides that its home is anywhere it chooses to roam.
What Myers doesn't mention is the danger that lurks at every
turn for even the most street savvy cats. Feral cats live much
shorter, more brutalized lives than felines with homes. And there are
so many of them.
Black Cat can enable families to examine this important issue.
How do the homeless cats in your locale get by? What dangers do they
face? What, if anything, is being done to help them?
Families can do a lot to help homeless cats: raising money for
shelters, volunteering at them, fostering young or skittish cats so
they can become more adoptable...
...and if the situation is right, adopting their own family
furever friend.
On a purrrsonal note, Tobago keeps adapting beautifully to her new
home. She's been with Eugene and me a little over a month. She seems
to be a very happy little girl.
A great big shout out goes out to the people who work so hard to match
cats with families and homes.
jules hathaway


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Hair Love

Hair Love

Picture book
When my daughters were little I did most of the traditional
mothering tasks. Hair care, however, was one of the things I was
totally inept at. When Amber and Katie's long hair snarled it was
their construction worker dad who carefully combed the tangles out.
So I was delighted to Matthew A. Cherry's Hair Love.
"My name is Zuri, and I have hair that has a mind of its own.
It kinks, coils, and curls each way."
Zuri's father has lots of ways of styling her hair that help her
feel beautiful. Beaded braids transform her into a princess. With
puffs she's a superhero.
One very special day Zuri wants a perfect do. Dad's first
attempts leave something to be desired. But he isn't giving up. And
that makes the book a fine celebration of the love of a father for his
beloved daughter.
Besides the human members, the family includes Rocky, a grey cat
with a very expressive face and body language whom parents and
children will enjoying finding on the different pages. Rocky kneading
Zuri early in the morning with a thought bubble encircling a can of
cat food will surely provoke knowing laughter.
Hair Love is a sweet and gentle book for families to share.
On a purrrsonal note, Friday I had two great surprises. The first was
pancakes made any way you like in the commuter lounge. I had mine
with blueberries and butterscotch chips and topped them with real
maple syrup and whipped cream. They were devine. They were better
than Dennys. What a way to start a day!
The other--you're going to have to wait on that one. But, let me tell
you, it is MAJOR! When I read the email I screamed out loud right in
the periodicals room of UMaine's Fogler Library...
A great big shout out goes out to our commuter lounge pancake making
crew. You add so much to our days with your culinary wizardry!
jules hathaway


Sent from my iPod

The House On Mango Street

The House On Mango Street
YA/adult fiction
"At school they say my name funny as if the syllables were made
of tin and hurt the roof of your mouth. But in Spanish my name is
made out of a softer something, like silver, not quite as thick as my
sister's name--Magdalena--which is uglier than mine. Magdalena who at
least can come home and be Nenny. But I am always Esperenza."
This paragraph from Sandra Cisneros' The House On Mango Street,
a classic from 1984, really resonated with me and hooked me on the
book. For humans names are so much more than identifiers. So many
nuances from genderedness and ethnicity to flowing or clunky sounds
(not to mention the potential for peer cruelty and teasing some carry)
evoke emotions around them. Lots of adults seem to have forgotten
this. Reading that sentence, I knew that Cisneros would put into
words aspects of life that children feel deeply and adults often
conveniently forget.
The House On Mango Street captures the frustration and awareness
of powerlessness that many children feel. Not surprisingly, Esperenza
wants a new name. She also wants a house. Much of her life involved
frequent moves from apartment to apartment. Her parents kept
promising a real house. But the one they have finally managed to
acquire is too small and rundown.
"I knew then I had to have a house. A real house. One I would
point to. But this isn't it. For the time being, Mama says.
Temporary, says Papa. But I know how these things go."
The book is composed of succinct vignettes that convey the
innocence and precariousness, the joys and sorrows, of a childhood in
a low income ethnic neighborhood in a time when kids still played
outside, free of constant adult supervision. Three friends chip in to
buy a used bike to share. A new car being driven around the
neighborhood, giving gleeful children rides, become the object of a
police chase. Donated high heel shoes make girls feel beautiful until
they attract the wrong kind of attention. Preteens jumping rope
debate the meaning of woman hips.
You don't want to miss out on this evocative coming of age
story, as meaningful today as it was when it hit the bookstores
decades ago.
On a purrrsonal note, Wednesday I was doing a little studying in the
multicultural lounge. People were setting up for an activity--making
vision boards. I wasn't going to make one. I had to get to work on
time. But they had really cool pictures and quotes. So I made an
awesome one which I will put in the studio for inspiration. It was
such a refreshing opportunity to have an unexpected chance to be
creative. And I got to work on time. When I got home I called Adam
to wish him a happy birthday. My baby is 23. :-)
A great big shout out goes out to Jeff and his crew who keep the
multicultural center a great place to learn about diversity,
celebrate, study, and just chill.
jules hathaway


Sent from my iPod