Every Day’s a School Day

My husband shared this expression with me long ago, and we’ve had many occasions to say it to each other and our kids over the years.  It may or may not be greeted with an eyeroll.  Or with a look that says, “Oh, boy, here we go…teachable moment alert!”  Every day’s a school day!  I love it even when it’s slightly annoying because it really goes straight to the heart of what learning is—and where and when it can happen.  Everywhere.  All the time.  In a school, in a library or in the great outdoors.  With friends or family, during story time or alone.  It can be noisy and messy.  It can be quiet and pensive.  There might be suspense, or hilarity might ensue.  There may be facts and figures.  Or there may be an unexpected connection between people and animals or a new awareness that slowly but surely begins to develop within oneself.  Each story and experience will resonate in its own way, in its own time, for each of us.  But we prime the pump with books like the ones that follow. Each of them offers something fresh and surprising. As I strive to stay open and keep learning every day, I hope today is a school day for you, too.

Wildflower.   2022

Brown, Melanie.   Illus. by Sara Gillingham.

Put on your sunglasses to enjoy this ode to weeds, or as some of us call them, wildflowers. Bright-eyed Daisy has just bloomed, and all is right in her sunny world.  That is until Rose throws her some shade and disdainfully tells her she’s just a weed and doesn’t belong in the garden with the beautiful likes of her. Daisy droops. She can’t believe her petals.  Rose goes on to explain that because Daisy wasn’t planted on purpose, she has no purpose being there.  Sage, Sunflower, and Chamomile, puffed up with self-importance because they were planted and have usefulness, add to Daisy’s dismay.  Leave it to the gently fragrant Sweet Pea to offer a word of consolation when she appears, having blown in on the wind, too.  Blackberry Vine sneaking over the fence and Clover popping up willy nilly suggest that even weeds like them can be useful. Think of my delicious berries, suggests Blackberry Vine.  My roots help other plants grow, says Clover, proudly.  At last, the queen of weeds, er wildflowers, Dandelion, weighs in. There’s room for all of us growing things under the sun!  With that, Daisy’s stem straightens, her petals stretch out, and she takes her rightful place alongside the rest.

Common weeds have never been more adorable than in the illustrations Gillingham renders with a stylus, an iPad and a computer.  Her endpaper images make Thistle, Chickweed, and Blackberry look so sweet it hardly seems fair to judge them common—or as weeds.  A Gardener’s Glossary of Terms describes the similarities and differences between wildflowers, weeds, invasives, and native plants in simple terms.  In her Case for Weeds, Brown is even-handed about their pros and cons, but she draws the line at introducing invasives that can be harmful to the local ecology.

We Became Jaguars.   2021

Eggers, Dave.   Illus. by Woodrow White.

This is another winner from Eggers, co-founder of 826 National, a network of writing centers for young people that launched in San Francisco as 826 Valencia in 2002.  (Seattle’s own 826 Greenwood, begun in 2005, spun off from the flagship to become the Bureau of Fearless Ideas in 2014.  It continues to offer programming for young people there and in Yesler Terrace.)  From its fanciful title and cover illustration to the opening page where Grandmother’s long arm extends from a spotted sleeve to the ring the doorbell, we know this isn’t going to be just another night with Grandma.  There’s trepidation in her grandson’s eyes and more than a little hesitation when she comes in, gets on the floor, and growls, “Let’s be jaguars.”

Grandmother seems to know all the ways to be a jaguar.  The boy follows her directions to get leaner, faster, fiercer with his small body.  Then they head out into the night.  In a stunning move by illustrator and book designer, we turn the page to find half human, half jaguar figures slinking out the door. But wait! Open the pages outward and the transformation is complete.  Grandmother and grandson ARE jaguars, and they’ve entered the deep, dark woods behind the house.

The woods become savanna, then a hilltop from which they can see most of the world.  And still they go on, jaguaring, because that’s what jaguars do. The duo drinks from a silver lake that tastes like moonlight, runs across the ocean, and finally stops somewhere in the Himalayas, where the boy remembers he has school. They run back–fiercely, nimbly, and quickly—hopefully to arrive before class begins.  Just in case, Grandmother has given him a note to share with the teacher.  Promise to look very carefully at her note!

 White’s illustrations of gouache and acrylic are wonderfully quirky and, well, jaguar-y. They convey a touch of menace with a jewellike background that complements the jaguars’ journey.  This story isn’t Eggers’ and White’s alone, though.  In an endnote, we learn that they were aided by input from the Young Editors Project (YEP), an international program that invites young readers and writers to see and comment on manuscripts in-progress by participating authors.

We All Play.  kimetawanaw.   2021 

Flett, Julie.

I first became acquainted with Flett’s work while shelving children’s books in the Canmore (Alberta) Library.  She illustrated Buffy Sainte-Marie’s story-song-poem of praise for Indigenous Canadians called Still This Love Goes On. I wrote glowingly about it in my first Books Around the Table post, and I’ve been keen to see all that she’s done before and since.  We All Play – kimetawanaw is a solo effort and a beauty, especially for the very young.  Double page spreads are filled from side to side with pastel and pencil creatures great and small doing what comes naturally. They play!  Bison rumble and roll.  Seals bubble and bend.  Wolf pups yip and yawn. Children play, too!

Flett is a Cree-Metis artist who often includes words from Cree language in her stories to honor her family and the land of her ancestors. The Cree words also provide context for the animals she chooses and the children’s clothing and games she depicts.  They connect the actions to the place and in turn connect the place to all of us. There is a list of animals in English and Plains Cree (y-dialect) appended and a short explication of the system of sounds used in the book. Flett invites readers to play while they listen—play with the sounds and play like the animals as they enjoy the story.

Mudkin.   2011

Gammell, Stephen. 

Here’s an oldie but a goodie from the mudluscious imagination of Stepen Gammell.  It’s the perfect picture book for the wet and slippery days to come and an ode to the most potent of childhood mixtures:  mud and imagination.  

Once there was a girl with queenly ambitions and an imagination to match.  After a downpour one day, she commands her kingdom of stuffed animals to come outside and play with her.  What follows in wild and wordless wonder is the appearance of Mudkin, an extraordinary little blob who invites her to be his queen for the day.  He whips up a crown, a carriage, and a castle in a muddy frenzy and whisks her off to meet his muddy minions. Will you be our Queen forever? Mudkin asks this of her in his own muddled voice.  Forever is a long time, especially when dark clouds are on the horizon and drops are falling on the castle keep. It was great fun while it lasted. Time to go inside and take a bath. But wait…that’s my crown on the ground!