Bookish Resolutions

Last year, much like this year, I didn’t make an resolutions. Not really. I thought about a few things. I mentioned them in passing. But at no point did I state to myself and others that I wanted to do X. instead I noncommittally rattled through the year with thoughts that never materialized action.

The thing is, when I put my mind to something, I make things happen. It isn’t always the success I envisioned but it is generally some kind of forward movement. And when it is something that is wholly in my control, well that is when I really kick things up a notch.

In 2014 I resolved to read at least two books a month. It was meant to be a reckoning between my “abroad” self and my “stateside” self. More and more I realize how differently I live when I’m in the comfortable familiarity of the United States versus the unknown (and sometimes uncomfortable) reality of another country.

Abroad me explores more, goes home to tea or dinner with strangers, takes local trips, befriends (and is befriended) by strangers. Abroad me also reads. A lot.

Part of my voracious literary appetite stems from me spending substantial amounts of my “abroad” time in more rural locales with limited electricity and the things that run on electricity. New Zealand was an exception to that rule, and I read far less there then I did in South Africa or Liberia.

Places with more electronic distractions, or places to go after dark, divert my attention. New Zealand offered city life and city life after dark options, Uganda offered the internet and bootleg movies on the cheap. I read less, easily distracted by flickering lights of all kinds.

In South Africa and Liberia I was insatiable. I read anything I could get my eyes on. Liberia served up three of the four Twilight books and Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff (one of my favorite random reads). South Africa inspired me to read Anna Karenina and Doctor Zhivago one after the other in a single week, leaving me to meld those stories into my head as one big depressing story about snow and sadness. Both places gave me lots of free time to dedicate to the written word.

Oakland is flashier than rural South Africa but I still have time on my hand. Rather than be constantly entertained by Netflix, for 2014 I resolved to read more, to bring at least a piece of my traveling self home.

More than the reading itself, settling on books was the most difficult piece. Once I learned that I could check books out of the library onto my Kindle my whole world changed. Of course, the downside to living in the hyper literate Bay Area is that everyone wants to check out library books on their kindle. Add to that the difficulty in settling on at least 24 books I wanted to read.

I spent a lot of time asking people what they were reading, what they loved. I checked “best of” lists and blogs. I read things that interested me and things that I finished almost entirely because I was dedicated to my goal.

Ultimately I was successful. I read 35 book in 2014, averaging almost three a month. Of course some were shorter than others and most of them weren’t literary masterpieces. Still, it was an amazing feeling in December when I looked back over the list and realized I’d done exactly what I’d set myself up to do.

It’s a good way through 2016 and my only resolution is to finish the book I’m working on. I’m hoping for the same kind of success 2014 reminded me was possible.

My 2014 Reading List- the “*” indicate books I loved and the months are indicated on the books I could remember:

1.         The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake (August)

2.         The Fault in Our Stars*

3.         The Giver

4.         Truth and beauty (March)*

5.         Snacks and seduction

6.         Never Let Me Go

7.         Run (August)

8.         The Absolute True Diary of a Part-time Indian (August)

9.         And the Mountains Echoed (July)

10.       The Westing House (July)

11.       As Nature Made Him (July)*

12.       Hundred Thousand Kingdoms (July)

13.       The Great typo Hunt (June)

14.       The 100-Year-Old Man Who Climbed Out of the Window and Disappeared (May)

15.       Americanah (April)*

16.       Girl in Translation (May)

17.       A Dirty Job (May)

18.       Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep (May)

19.       Mountains Beyond Mountains (March)

20.       Redefining Realness

21.       The Language of Flowers (February)

22.       The Idealist (February)*

23.       The Gathering Blue

24.       The Miseducation of Cameron Post

25.       The Interestings

26.       World War Z (September)*

27.       The Circle (October)

28.       Before I Fall (October)

29.       Lucky Us (October)

30.       Leftovers (November)

31.       Let’s Explore Diabetes with Owls (November)

32.       I See You Made an Effort (December)

33.       Boy (December)

34.       Dear Committee Members (December)

35.       The Age of Miracles (December)

Book Reflections

When president Obama was elected I wrote about this moment with my nieces in mind. Three of them. I was amazed that they would live only in a world where a black president was possible. A world, that until that election, I didn’t think I’d ever see. 

It felt like such a turning point. It felt so hopeful. Never mind the racist posts that greeted Obama after his election. Never mind the bulletproof glass he and Michelle stood behind just in case.

I lived in “just in case” for at least a year. Then I settled into the assumption that although the racism would continue, he was safe. What I didn’t count on was that the rest of us weren’t. 

Truthfully, I never thought wearing black skin was safe. I knew better. I understood what black people have always understood, that things happen to us when there are no prying eyes to observe, and if you survive, no one will believe your version of what happened. 

Such dark thoughts.

I’ll return to thoughts of my nieces now, with something more like the hope I found myself cloaked in in 2008. I want to spin them dizzy in a world where black presidents are possible and black skin a gift. Fiction seems the best respite. Fiction seems the most realistic place for that kind of optimistic landscape. Fiction can weave in the reality of a black man in the White House and make a kinky haired black girl the hero in the story.

Yesterday I began my search…again. It wasn’t the first time I went in search of books for my nieces. Thinking back to my beloved books growing up, I notice now that the books of my youth have one thing in common. Not a single main character looks like me. Not Anastasia Krumpnik, or Harriet the Spy, or Ramona Quimby. Not Charlotte from Charlotte’s Web, not anyone from the Lion the Witch and Wardrobe or from Bridge to Terabithia. As integrated as my parents made my toybox, the bookshelf proved more palely homogenous.

Books for children seem to have gotten more diverse since I’ve gotten old; there are folks of all kinds of backgrounds in books these days. But I am difficult, and diversity isn’t enough, I have a few other requirements for what I’d most like to present my nieces with:

1.       Person of color protagonist 

2.       No historical stories 

3.       Female protagonist 

4.       No love interest to live “happily ever after with."

 

What I’ve found is that two out of the four requirements is highly probable in a book, three out of four possible, and four out of four I am having difficulty in finding. I can’t claim to have exhausted the children’s book section of any bookstore or library but oh how frustrating my internet searches have been as I find books with great stories no doubt, but ones that don’t reflect my nieces or the values I want them to have. 

My 11 year-old-niece adores dystopian novels. Hunger Games, Divergent…I went in search of something in that genre for her. I found Tankborn. Tankborn met three of the four (1,2, and 4) but romance snuck its way in. 

The things is, my requirements aren’t arbitrary. I want protagonists of color because I don’t want my nieces to believe that the default or norm, is whiteness. I want them to understand that the world, and the people in it, is a varied place. I want them to see themselves and others reflected in that world not during black history month or for special messages, but just because it is a Tuesday and someone is walking to the store. 

I also don’t want the brownness of characters to relegate them to some historical context of suffering and overcoming. I don’t want stories that have characters that reflect my brown and fuzzy haired nieces to have to relate to the civil rights movement or slavery. I want it to be in the here and now or in the dystopian future where historical context doesn’t limit the types of stories or triumphs they can have.

I want them to see girls and women as the protagonists because the Bechdel test is a low bar and yet so many movies and books fail it. Having a female protagonist isn’t a guarantee that the threshold is met but it goes a long way in showing that girls don’t have to be helpless and boring…girls can be smart and funny and kickass or make mistakes and learn from them. All traits I hope my nieces possess.

Finally, point four is about NOT having a romantic interest. I’m not anti-love. One day I hope my nieces are cloaked in the love of a partner. But at the tender ages of 7,9, and 11 I don’t want them focused on that. I don’t want them to fall into the trap of believing that happily ever after is the result of someone “completing them” or some such nonsense. I want them to understand that people can be friends – deeply and meaningfully- and not have to be more than that. A person can be special and not be a boy/girlfriend. 

While Hunger Games doesn’t fixate on the romance angle (although the movies elevate it in importance to some degree) it is still a component of the books. Still a component of Katniss’ world. Divergent does the same. Fairy tales are based on the premise of one true love. It is all so cloying and transparent. Not yet teens, I want my nieces to explore a world where they and their friends are enough to tackle any new adventures.

Finding books that meet my threshold has proven difficult. I’ve gone back to the classics…maybe classics is a stretch…I’ve gone back to my childhood, back to my love of Judy Blume and Madeline L’engle who meet some of the rules and fall short in others. I’ve researched The Lost Girl and will check it out to see if it is any good (even as I already know it fails rule 4). More than anything I realize that rather than complain I need to do pull a J.K. Rowling and write what I want to see in the world…I hope inspiration hits me soon because my nieces aren’t getting any younger and their minds are being filled…and not according to my preferred rules.

A

Does anyone have a good idea for a children’s book?