I am again asking for those who would like to join the U.L.S., the Underground Library Society, to join and write a guest post. I put this request out several times over the course of a year, because I hope to have more people join in the cause.
In an earlier First Year Class at Lehigh University in Bethlehem, PA, The U.L.S. — The Underground Library Society — was created. It is in the spirit of the Book People from Ray Bradbury’sFahrenheit 451. In that novel, all books have been banned, and a few people “become” books by memorizing them, in the hope that, one day, books will be permitted to exist again.
In that spirit, I am putting out the call once more for like-minded people to join The U.L.S. All that is needed is to choose a book you would memorize if the need ever arose…
Dinosaurs are not extinct. Way back in ‘95, a dinosaur was born. He was lovingly painted, stuffed with paper, and tied with string. Don’t you love the big, toothy smile?
That year was a happy year for this dinosaur, hanging by the string and being in the classroom. The children loved their dinosaurs. This one went home with Michelle. She kept her dinosaur in her bedroom for years. Many years. The family is now packing up and moving away, and this dinosaur was the last thing to come down. It was given to me! Now, the rebirth begins, as I will introduce him, or her, to a new generation of children who will get to make their very own dinosaur.
You see, dinosaurs are always present in school. They’re not extinct. Just ask the children who carefully fed them dinner and arranged a dinosaur parade.
Children’s play is very real. That’s where the mind blossoms and explodes with learning. Critical, divergent thinking can only take place when adults are not involved and children have to problem solve on their own or with their friends. Dinosaurs often set the stage for this. Play is rich and involved and often complex when dinosaurs are present.
Let me give you an example of critical, divergent thinking. When the astronauts landed on the moon, minutes and seconds beforehand things did not go well. They had to think fast and make decisions. Guess what they attributed much of this skill to? Independent play as children, building with rocks and sticks (not easy) and making it work. I wonder if they played with dinosaurs.
The best series of dinosaur books is by Jane Yolen. I highly recommend these “How Do Dinosaurs” books. “How Do Dinosaurs Say Goodnight” is my favorite.
I will always champion for dinosaurs. They help children play, which is #1. They inspire curiosity, which triggers a plethora of math, science, and geography. Everyone loves dinosaurs. Thank goodness they’re not extinct.
The new exhibit at the Eric Carle Museum of Picture Book Art is: Speechless: The Art of Wordless Picture Books
Wordless books? How can that be? How can you read a wordless book to a child? I’ll tell you just how to do that. But first, let me back up and tell you about the first wordless picture book I read to my students when I was a new teacher – over thirty five years ago.
“Rain” by Peter Spier
My copy is ‘well loved’ and worn.
The book opens with children playing outside in the sun, yet at a distance a storm is approaching. As soon as that caught the eye of a child, we all jumped in with both feet, wondering what will happen next. What will happen next? That’s the key, the ingredient that triggers questions, creative thinking, and most of all- language. The more we looked, the more we talked. It took forever to go through the entire book. We were late for lunch, but no one cared. One of the pages shows the children building a complex block structure. That afternoon we worked to recreate the structure (math.) The ripples in the water from the rain were all circular (science.) I think you get the picture- pun intended.
From that point forward my collection of picture books included wordless books. This is a very small selection:
The opening day of the exhibit was a treat for members, as David Wiesner spoke and gave a tour of the exhibit. Yes, the David Wiesner, author of “Flotsam” and many other award winning books. I was fortunate to meet David before the event. What a great guy!
We talked about how wordless books are the best for promoting language, and how they ignite and create words and conversation. We talked about many books, and I told him about the final book in “The Farmer And The Clown” trilogy. I was thrilled to share the news of a new book.
The exhibit is one of the best! The first wordless book was published in 1932… and the next one wasn’t published until 1962. Wow!
David Wiesner introduced “Rain”. Yes, I nearly jumped out of my skin. This was my first wordless book, and I was seeing the real illustrations.
It is quite moving to see the art of picture books, especially when it is a beloved book. When that book is wordless, the art is, well, everything. This is one of my favorites:
“The Farmer And The Clown” was part of the exhibit.
“Truck” by Donald Crews
A picture book timeline
“The Lion and the Mouse” by Jerry Pinkney
My favorite David Wiesner book is “Flotsam”, one of his many Caldecott winning books.
It starts with a boy on the beach looking at a crab.
Uh, oh! I will let you decide what is happening here.
Wait. Is that a camera?
Look at the picture. There’s more than one.
This hardly scratches the surface of all that’s within this book.
Words of wisdom from David Wiesner:
Wordless picture books are a visual problem solver. The pictures are the words. “What do you see?” Yes, a visual problem solver. This is also how to start reading a book. Look, ask questions, and let the child find the answers.
It’s up to you what you make of the book, because the the author isn’t telling you. There is no right or wrong because each reader sees something different. The same thing happens at an art museum, yet there is only one piece of art. With a wordless picture book, there is a journey of art.
Wordless books give the freedom to let out the imagination.
The adventure of reading can take any path the mind travels. Freedom!
The child sees the story in their own way, in their own time. When the child wants to ‘see’, ask them to tell you about it. Talk. Listen. Language and creativity will follow.
Let the child put in their own words. The reader-aloud is only the guide. “Something is happening.” “What do you see?”
Pictures are the clues to narratives. Hear, Hear!
While the exhibit primarily focuses on wordless picture books from other artists, the number of books and illustrations will take you on one of the best visual journeys the Eric Carle Museum has displayed. I highly recommend visiting! In the museum’s own words:
The Carle is the international champion for picture books. We collect, preserve, and present picture books and picture-book illustrations for audiences passionate about children’s literature.
It’s an odd thing to say that a eulogy was inspirational. Yet for Milly, how could it be anything less? And, it’s unusual to laugh out loud at the words the minister says about someone who is deceased. But again, when it comes to Milly…
It happened like this:
Milly’s funeral, a memorial service, was held in an old New England church – 250 years old to be exact – in pouring rain and humidity that felt like I was sitting in the rain. My husband and I arrived quite early, only to discover everyone else had the same idea. The church was packed. Sardines in a sauna. The minister was a young man who didn’t know Milly well. He began by telling the congregation of his first meeting with Milly.
“Where’s my quilt?” Milly asked me. I’ve had plenty of odd questions, but that one took the cake. Here I was, new to the church, and this woman comes right up to me and asks about her quilt. What quilt?
Everyone is laughing! And the minister continues.
You see, Milly had made a huge quilt for the 250th anniversary of the church. I had no idea, but Milly told me all about it. And, where was it? After months of searching, the quilt was found tucked away in a box during renovations. We found her quilt four days after she died. It now hangs again.
I look around and see the faces of many quilters and friends. Milly is at peace. Be sad if you must, but she would want you to celebrate her life. She is at peace.
Peace! Of course. No wonder the Peace Quilts we made together are wonderful. That was Milly. Yup!
A church that was full of quilters knew the story he told. I didn’t. After all, my time with Milly was only in the last ten years. I looked around and thought of all the experiences and quilting she, and they, must have had. I felt like a little girl at Thanksgiving listening to all the stories the grown-ups told. And so, I listened.
Milly’s son gave the eulogy. He pointed out two quilts displayed in front of the alter alongside all the flowers. One was the first quilt he had as a child. The other was a recent one.
Mom made it this year, and I asked her if I could have it. I’ve never asked her for a quilt. She was so happy. So now I have two, one from the beginning of my life, and one from the end of hers.
When Mom first became sick and was rushed to St. Joseph’s Hospital, I spent that night with her. She told me story after story, things I’d never known. She was happy. Afterwards, she had no recollection of that night nor the stories she had told.
In Part 9, Milly continued her visits to school. The children and Gloria were always thrilled when it was a ‘Milly day’. At last, after years of quilts that went away to places of honor, Milly made a quilt, “Our Towns” that hangs at school. Declining health continued, yet I summoned the courage to ask Milly to make another Peace Quilt. She was thrilled, and with her renewed energy and enthusiasm, we were off on another adventure.
Part 10 – The Final Curtain.
“Lets make the image with children and their family looking out a big window at their images of peace.” Milly’s idea was brilliant, and that’s exactly what we did. Honestly, that quilt with butterfly wings that moved, real chains for swings, raised and puffy hearts, and striking colors and images, was Milly’s best. It was her crowning glory.
And so, the question of where to hang the quilt lingered… until an old friend and past parent whose child was part of the first Peace Quilt said it should hang at the White House. “The world needs peace more today than ever” she said. Yes. And it needs to hang at our own White House, the State House. Of course it does! The White House may take years to approve and accept the quilt. I wasn’t sure if Milly had years. The Massachusetts State House was perfect. Milly thought so, too.
There were ladders to climb and hoops to go through just to make a contact, someone who would listen to my story, Milly’s story. And one day at school our secretary burst into my classroom to tell me the State House was on the phone and wanted to talk with me. An hour later I was emailing photos of the sketch and the quilt. It was love at first sight, and the wheels were moving. I couldn’t believe how many layers of people and agencies had to approve (and like) the quilt AND the idea of it hanging at the State House.
“Is there a spot for special artifacts?” I asked.
“Yes, but it’s out of the way. The quilt wouldn’t be visible to many people. Wait! There is a bare wall at the entrance of the building. I’ve been trying to find the right thing to hang there. Everyone who enters the State House would see this quilt. Everyone. What do you think?”
What do I think?! I think that would be awesome – and I choose that word in it’s original context. The world needs more peace, and what is better than peace through the eyes of young children – seen by all?
“I think that would be wonderful. Just perfect.”
In the meantime, we made a Peace Book. Children illustrated all their ideas that are depicted in the quilt and wrote the words. One of the best peace books, ever!
We read this book over and over. Children looked through it to find their favorite page and tell others about peace. The book cemented the quilt. A copy remains out front at school for families and children to read. And, it continues to be well loved.
“Jennie, everything is all set.” At last! “When would you like to deliver the quilt? We’d like to have a ceremony with children and families, and of course Milly. The Governor is planning to attend.”
What! The Governor of Massachusetts? Gulp!
“That is wonderful” I said, trying to keep a calm voice. “Thank you”.
We picked a date in June and notified families. Current families and past families were there at the big event, as this quilt was a few years in the making. The director and assistant director of school were there. Milly’s family was there. My husband and I drove Milly into Boston, and we were escorted into the rotunda, a beautiful room with a curved sweeping staircase and stunning architecture. History and beauty at its best.
Milly glowed. She may have been wheelchair bound, but her spirt rose up tall and proud.
The stage and seating was at the foot of the Grand Staircase. I was prepped by a staff member as to what would happen. The Governor and the Lieutenant Governor would make an entrance from the back, then I would give opening remarks and read the Peace Book, then the Governor would speak, and finally the quilt would be presented.
You can do this, Jennie.
When Governor Baker made his entrance we shook hands and chatted, and he scanned the room for Milly. When he saw her he stepped forward, then dropped to his knees and held her hands. They whispered and smiled like two long-lost friends. Everyone stood to watch; you could have heard a pin drop. Not a dry eye in the house.
This was Milly’s finest moment.
And the ceremony began. I had a microphone. That was fine until I had to hold the book while reading. The Governor hopped up, took the book out of my hands, and said, “Here. Let me hold the book while you read.” And he did. And I did.
I barely recall the words I said, yet I clearly remember the Governor’s speech and his words. “Children learn hate” he said. He talked about the importance of peace and children’s visions, much like the image of the quilt. The quilt was presented and displayed for everyone to see.
And then the Governor spontaneously asked all the children to sit with him on the steps of the Grand Staircase. What a great idea!
Milly took with her treasured memories of a lifetime, back to the nursing home, and displayed these photos for everyone to see. In typical Milly humor, she would say to all who asked her who was that man kneeling, “Oh, that’s just the Governor.” On all of my visits to see her the following year – she was now too sick and unable to come to school – there was always a new story of someone asking her about the quilt and the State House. We laughed. We always laughed. It’s what friends do.
And then her granddaughter called. The Call. Milly had a week or two to live. Hopefully. I went to see her right away, and as soon as she saw my face, she said three sentences to me, “Jennie, I’m 88 years old. I’ve lived a wonderful life. What else is there?” Yes, Milly!
I went back to school and made videos of the children singing Milly’s favorite songs. I went to the nursing home a few days later to show her, sat on a chair right beside her bed, and we played the videos over and over again on my iPad. Oh, how she loved seeing the children and hearing the songs. As we watched and listened, I rubbed her arm and we both smiled. A lot.
“Milly, remember all the adventures we’ve had together? I remember that car ride to Philadelphia. You were hilarious. We had the best time. Milly, what do you remember?”
And Milly proceeded to tell the story of the Command Coin being pressed into her hand at the Fisher House. That was her big memory over the years. We continued to reminisce. There were no tears. Milly wouldn’t have had it any other way.
The following day I called, and her granddaughter answered her phone. Milly would probably die that night. I wasn’t about to wait, I left immediately to see her. I needed, wanted to say goodbye. I was driving like a crazy person to get there. And the most remarkable thing happened. When I was about five minutes away, I was struck with an enormous wave of peace. It was the most wonderful feeling of goodness.
I was too late. Milly had died five minutes before I got there – the same time that the wave of peace struck me. She was telling me goodbye in her happy way. And so Milly, I say goodbye to you in my happy way:
Moments #2 were sunsets, grandchildren, and what happens in my classroom. My final ‘moments’ post, Moments #3, is looking up, looking down, and looking out.
Rainbow around the sun yesterday at noon
Rainbows under water in my pool
Thank you E.B. White for these words of wisdom.
I was on my porch and couldn’t help but notice that, well…
the world seemed incredibly beautiful.
It filled me with sunshine. I’m so glad I paid attention and looked.
Looking inside was followed by looking outside.
In the words of Steve the Crossing Guard, spoken at his Curbside Classroom: “Wherever you are, look up, down and around your own environment. Then, share your discoveries with others and get them excited, too.”
A Teacher's Reflections 