Diversity

Do You Think the World is Ready?

By on July 20, 2016   /   Book Lists, Diversity, For Librarians, For Parents, For Teachers, For Writers  

I don’t shock easily, but two recent incidents had me reeling.

The first happened during a creative writing workshop I ran for kids in Grades 4-6. At the start of the workshop, several kids mentioned which of my books they’d read. Then one girl raised her hand and shyly announced that she wanted to read my books, but her mom wouldn’t allow her. “She says they have bad words,” the girl reported.

I tried to seem blase. “Has your mom read any of my books?” I asked her.

“No,” the girl admitted.  “But she’s seen the covers.”

I assured her that I was always careful not to use “bad words”–and that it wasn’t fair to judge a book by its cover. But how a parent viewed any of my covers and decided the text contained inappropriate language  was a mystery to me. And the sad thing was, this girl was an enthusiastic writer who clearly craved access to all sorts of books.

The other incident occurred at the start of an elementary school’s Read Aloud Day. Because my books fall into the  upper elementary/ middle school category, I was assigned a fourth grade class, as was the local middle school principal.  As the two of us chatted before the program, he asked what books I had on the horizon.

I told him about my upcoming middle grade novels:  TRUTH OR DARE (Aladdin, S&S/Sept. 20, 2016), which is about a mom-less girl’s experience of puberty, and STAR-CROSSED (Aladdin/S&S, March 2017), which is about a girl who has a crush on the girl playing Juliet in the middle school production of Shakespeare’s play.

The principal’s face turned pink. He laughed nervously. “Oh,” he said. “Do you think the world is ready?”

I explained that all my books were wholesome, completely appropriate for tweens. I hoped he’d express enthusiasm, maybe even extend an invitation to the middle school, or say he’d mention the books to the school librarian.  But he didn’t do either. Instead, he changed the subject.

I’ve been thinking about  both of these incidents  a lot lately, in light of Kate Messner’s recent dis-invitation from a school uncomfortable with her newest MG, THE SEVENTH WISH. That book, which I deeply admire, is about a girl whose older sister has a heroin addiction– a topic the school decided was inappropriate for its students .

What scares me is not so much outright book-banning, because that happens in the bright light of day, and often leads to heightened interest in the banned book, anyway.  What I find even more troubling is “quiet censorship,” the sort of thing that happens when an adult decides the world, or a school, or a classroom, or a particular kid “isn’t ready” to read about certain topics. And so he doesn’t extend the invitation, or order the book–not because the book isn’t good, or isn’t written at the right level, but because the subject makes him nervous. It’s a type of book-banning–but because it happens under the radar, it’s difficult to detect.

When Kate Messner was disinvited from a school, she had an overt act, the revoked invitation, to react to, and she did so eloquently and effectively, both on her blog and behind a podium at ALA 2016. But many authors who tackle challenging subjects just won’t get the initial invitation, or their book simply won’t get ordered by the library.  So how do they even know they’ve been “quietly censored”? And how can they–or their readers–protest? After all, schools and libraries are free to make their own choices, as they should be.  If they choose not to order a certain book, who’s to say the choice was motivated by the book’s challenging or controversial subject, and not by the author’s writing style?

I keep coming back to the realization that kids are older than we think they are, older than we were when we were their age.  Girls are menstruating at younger ages, getting eating disorders at younger ages (this is the subject of my upcoming eighth novel STUFF I KNOW ABOUT YOU (Aladdin/S&S Sept. 2017).  The internet has exposed all of our kids to a cruel, violent, judgmental world. If we don’t allow kids to read MG novels that reflect the world they live in, one of two things will happen. Either kids will turn off reading realistic fiction altogether (and with the internet constantly beckoning, that’s a real concern)– or they will crash the gate, choosing, and perhaps sneaking, YAs that are too explicit and dark for their years.  As any parent of a teen knows, once a kid starts reading YA fiction, he/she seldom wants to discuss the edgier content with an adult. Isn’t it better to allow access to books specifically geared toward a MG sensibility–the way  THE SEVENTH WISH is?  And shouldn’t we as adults want to stay in the conversation–even when (or especially when) the conversation makes us nervous?

We can’t be in favor of diversity in kidlit without welcoming books that include all sorts of previously ignored characters: kids of color, LGBT kids, kids in nontraditional families, kids coping with a family member’s addiction, kids coping with mental illness (like Dunkin in Donna Gephart’s  beautiful LILY AND DUNKIN).  There’s nothing inherently “wrong” or “inappropriate” about these characters–they’re just kids on the basketball team, kids on the school bus, kids in the play. And they deserve to be represented, read about, identified with, empathized with.

The world is ready.

Barbara Dee’s next book, TRUTH OR DARE, will be published on September 20, 2016.

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Disconnected

By on July 8, 2016   /   Diversity, Op-Ed  

So I just returned from a family trip to northern Minnesota, where we spent a week on a lovely lake with no wi-fi, no internet connection and spotty cell coverage. As I sat back down at my computer for the first time in days, I was all ready to write a haha-insightful post about the joy (or sheer horror, if you asked my teenaged son), of being cut off from most of the outside world in a log cabin with no television, a malfunctioning toilet, bloodthirsty mosquitos and the world’s lumpiest sofa/bed.

Then, I read the news.

A man shot during a traffic stop. A black man. A human being, who by all accounts was a good man, hardworking and kind, loved by the schoolchildren he worked with for more than a decade, dead on the side of the road.

My heart sank. Philando Castile was killed in a town I’d just passed through the day before with my own children in the back seat of my car. Suddenly, the toilet that wouldn’t stay flushed seemed trivial and stupid. I wasn’t in the mood to crack jokes anymore. I felt saddened. And sorry. And truth be told–helpless and guilty.

Because here’s the thing–as I blissfully drove through St. Paul, it never occurred to me that I could be pulled over and shot. Heck, I’ve been pulled over–twice when I was in my twenties–for having a tail light out, just like Castile’s alleged infraction. Both times, the police officer changed the light for me. I never felt threatened. I was never perceived as a threat.

That, I now understand, was a luxury I enjoyed as a young, white woman.

Now, let me just pause and say–being a police officer is not an easy job. It’s often dangerous and difficult, and I have great respect–and am thankful–for those who protect and serve, and do it well. I am married to a federal law enforcement professional, have worked with several police officers as a newspaper reporter, and count many as friends. I would trust any of them with my life. I truly believe that the vast majority of people who enter law enforcement fields do so because they want to uphold the law. [ETA: And as I got ready to close my computer down this evening, I saw the news coming out of Dallas about the officers shot at a rally and my heart has sunk even further.]

But, I’m also aware that we have a problem in this country. Somehow, we seem to have become more trigger-happy, more polarized and opinionated (two minutes scrolling the comments section on any news site is enough to confirm that). I guest it’s easier to spew hate and fear when hiding behind a keyboard. And it’s easier to pull the trigger when you don’t see the humanity of the person in front of you.

I started this post wishing I had answers, wishing people could be good and kind to each other. That we weren’t all so disconnected in so many ways. That maybe if we stepped away from our computers, the 24/7 news cycle, our preconceived notions– if we set down the guns–maybe we could actually connect and see each other’s humanity.

I guess that’s why this tweet from wonderful middle-grade author Kate Messner really resonated with me today:

I agree, Kate.

And I will do my best–as an author and a mother and a human being–to speak out against injustice. To listen–really listen–to what it’s like to walk a mile in someone else’s shoes. To raise my children to do the same.

And I will keep hoping, as well.

 

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Nine, Ten: A September 11 Story–Nora Raleigh Baskin Interview and Giveaway

By on June 28, 2016   /   Author Interviews, Diversity, Fiction, For Kids, For Librarians, For Parents, For Teachers, For Writers, Writing  

9781442485068-1

I’m thrilled to welcome author Nora Raleigh Baskin to From the Mixed-Up Files. Today is the release date of her newest novel, Nine, Ten: A September 11 Story, which has already received starred reviews from Publishers Weekly and Kirkus Reviews.

I recently had the pleasure of chatting with Nora about her work as a writer. Read on for the interview, as well as more about her, the novel, and how you could win an autographed copy!

 

When did you first get the idea to write about September 11, and how long did it take you to determine what you wanted to say about the event?

Well, I don’t know that I had anything specific to “say,” and certainly not to “teach” about the event, other than I wanted to re-create the moment it happened, or more precisely, the hours just before it happened. My goal for this book was to raise questions, rather than present answers. Of course, I’m human and I have my own perceptions and biases, but I try very, very hard not to use my characters that way.

My interest in writing about 9/11 was to write about “change.” I wanted to show the world we knew before, and the world after. There are many events in our collective American history so profound, they altered everything we knew, or thought we knew, to be true. I could have chosen any number of them; Pearl Harbor, the Kennedy assassination, the sinking of the Lusitania — moments when our innocence (or naiveté) was lost. I chose the one I remembered, the one I had actually experienced.

Did you plan from the beginning to have four narrators or is that something that evolved once you started writing?

Interesting question because yes, in fact, I had the structure before I had anything else. I was watching a movie called Bobby, about the day before Bobby Kennedy was shot and killed in the ballroom of the Ambassador Hotel. When that happened, in 1968, I was seven years old, too young to understand what ended that day, but I grew up in a culture that was forever altered.

The movie follows several unconnected characters (except that they all find themselves in that same Los Angeles hotel) and each story reveals something about the specific time period in which they all live; feminism, racism, the drug culture, and of course, the political landscape.

In Nine, Ten I worked very hard to do the same thing with each of my four characters, but in a way that requires work on the part of my readers. For example, Naheed clearly foreshadows the bigotry Muslim Americans faced after 9/11. Aimee is in the story to represent all the It-would-have-been-me-but (fill in the blank) stories that came out of that day. Sergio’s story touches on the first responders, because no one can talk about 9/11 without thinking about those dedicated men and women. But the very hardest to connect was Will’s section, against the context of Flight 93 and the passengers that rose up against the hijackers. I wanted to speak to the concept of bravery and heroism, which is not a cut and dry, black and white, either or, issue.

I want my readers to think, and come to their own conclusions. I expect my readers to tax their brains a little when they read a book of mine.

The movie, Bobby, never hits you over the head with its agenda (although I am balling my eyes out when its over), but allows the everyday stories of everyday people to reveal themselves as profound. It was powerful, and I was so terribly excited to try and attempt the same thing in a written work.

P.S. If I had known how hard it was going to be, I might not have tried!

Without giving the ending away, how soon after getting the idea for the novel did you know how your narrators would finally cross paths?

Ah, another interesting question. No, I never thought they would cross paths again, until … well, I got to the end. It was so overwhelming, my own need for hope and redemption, that the ending was almost forced on me. I knew, as I was writing it, that there was a sentimental factor, but it felt right. And everyone I showed it to agreed. So it stayed. The ending truly sprang from my heart.

Another P.S. As unlikely as it may seem that four people who never know each other cross paths more than once in their lives, it is an idea I am fascinated by, and I believe happens much more than we ever realize. Kurt Vonnegut even invented a word for it in Cat’s Cradle.

Karass: A group of people linked in a cosmically significant manner, even when superficial links are not evident.

On your website, you mention that your writing is a vehicle of sorts for your own self-discovery and healing. How did writing this novel facilitate that discovery and healing?

Well, I cried a lot while I was researching this story. I had no idea how close to the surface these memories were, and how unprocessed they still are. I imagine that will be true for many of us who are old enough to remember (of course, my young readers were not yet born.) Because of this, none of my main characters lose anyone during the course of the book. As my editor said, there is enough loss in the premise itself.

It’s funny, or maybe not so funny, but as I get older I find myself reaching past self-discovery and my own need to heal my personal story, and out to the world at large. My kids are grown, my life is now stable and safe, and lord knows I’ve mined my family history plenty, so now I sense a greater, larger family.

What I mean is that I finally feel whole enough, to start telling the stories of other—not so autobiographical—characters. The healing that happens now is in discovering how connected we humans are. We are truly more alike than we are different, and I see this as the path my writing journey is now taking me.

You’ve published consistently since your first book in 2001. Were there ever any times when the writing didn’t flow or the ideas didn’t come so readily? If so, what got you back on track?

Ha! No, the writing always comes. It’s the publishing that doesn’t always flow so easily. 🙁

Can you tell us two of your best writing tips?

If I have to give only two … I’d say: Write from your heart. Every story has already been told, but no one can tell your story.

And … Finish what you start. You never know if your story is good or not, until you’ve finished that sucky first draft and get to work on revising.

So finish. There is so much learning from just doing that!

IMG_0646 (1)Nora Raleigh Baskin is the author of thirteen novels for young readers and has won several awards including the 2010 ALA Schneider Family Book Award for Anything But Typical. She has taught creative writing to both children and adults for over fifteen years with organizations such as SCBWI, The Unicorn Writers Conference, Gotham Writers Workshop, and The Fairfield County Writers’ Workshop. You can connect with her on Facebook and Twitter.

Good news! Nora has generously offered an autographed copy of the novel to raffle off to one lucky winner who shares this post on Facebook or Twitter. Read about the novel and how to win it below.

nine tenAsk anyone: September 11, 2001, was serene and lovely, a perfect day—until a plane struck the World Trade Center.

But right now it is a few days earlier, and four kids in different parts of the country are going about their lives. Sergio, who lives in Brooklyn, is struggling to come to terms with the absentee father he hates and the grandmother he loves. Will’s father is gone, too, killed in a car accident that has left the family reeling. Naheed has never before felt uncomfortable about being Muslim, but at her new school she’s getting funny looks because of the head scarf she wears. Aimee is starting a new school in a new city and missing her mom, who has to fly to New York on business.

These four don’t know one another, but their lives are about to intersect in ways they never could have imagined.

Tell me in the comments section where you shared by Thursday, June 30 at midnight. I’ll announce the winner on Saturday, July 2. (Continental U.S. only, please.)

Dorian Cirrone has written several books for children and teens. Her middle-grade novel, The First Last Day (Simon and Schuster/Aladdin) released this month and is available wherever books are sold. You can find her on Facebook and on Twitter as @DorianCirrone. She gives writing tips and does occasional giveaways on her blog at: http://doriancirrone.com/welcome/blog/

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