CCICL Episode 5 with Newbery Award Winning author Matt de la Peña & NYT bestselling illustrator Loren Long

In the fifth episode of Critical Conversations in Children's Literature Dr. Lashon Daley continues the conversation of collaboration in the industry of Children's Literature with guests Matt de la Peña and Loren Long. They discuss their collaborative process while working on the 2018 New York Times bestselling picture book Love as well as a current project. 

Matt de la Peña is the author of middle-grade and young adult novels such as Mexican WhiteBoy, We Were Here and Superman: Dawnbreaker as well as a handful of children's picture books like Last Stop on Market Street for which he won the Newbery. 

Loren Long is the illustrator of former President Barack Obama's picture book Of Thee I Sing, Mr. Peabody's Apples by Madonna. Change Sings by Amanda Gorman and a host of other picture books including the Otis series.  

Watch the video below!

We hope you enjoy this episode and make sure to follow our Youtube channel for more! 

CCICL is funded by CAL IRA funds. 

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Interview with Sofia St John, Student

We’re taking a short break from our series on Dr. Mary Galbraith to present an interview with Sofia St. John, one of the graduate assistants at the NCSCL, who discusses her experience learning creative writing from Matt de la Peña. 

Matt de la Peña is a former MFA student and a visiting lecturer in the Department of English and Comparative Literature. He is "the #1 New York Times Bestselling, Newbery Medal-winning author of seven young adult novels (including Mexican WhiteBoy, We Were Here, and Superman: Dawnbreaker) and five picture books (including Love and Last Stop on Market Street)." 

- (excerpted from https://literature.sdsu.edu/people/bios/de-la-pena.html)

Matt de la Peña reading from his novel Mexican WhiteBoy

Which of Matt de la Peña’s courses are you taking?

English 696: Writing the Young Protagonist. 


How does Matt de la Peña’s expertise inform the way he teaches? Can you share something notable about his teaching style?

One really cool thing about Matt is that he’s a successful, published author, so he knows the ins and outs of publishing. One day he just sat down and explained a bit about what it’s like to publish, which is a topic we will go back to later. He has a ton of experience writing and publishing, so he will just have little tidbits of information he shares with us. He’s very real with us: this is the writing world, and this is how he navigates through it.

Also, because our class is mostly workshopping, he’s giving students the space to voice opinions, whether or not they are ones the entire class agrees on. What I really love is we don’t have to completely have a fully formed opinion, because the rest of the class, both the students and the teacher, will help build on it. We basically are given free rein to discuss anything in someone’s work. I had one workshop where it seemed some of the class loved part of my work, and some of the class really didn’t, and like most aspects of writing, there’s not really a right or wrong. He lets us come to terms with what each of us think is “good” writing, because there’s no real way to define it, no matter how many classes we take or pieces we write. 


What topics have been your favorite so far?

One of the most fascinating (and most difficult) topics was on narrative restraint, which is letting the story carry itself. I admire the writer who has achieved narrative restraint. Maybe because I am also an academic writer, I feel like I need to control the character’s every motion and word, but that’s really not fun for either the reader or the writer. In academic writing, we point out almost every detail we discover which the author has carefully plotted out. In creative writing, however, we are the ones planting those details for the reader or scholar to find, and for me, it’s so difficult to make writing subtle, but he’s really pushing us to let go of what others interpret from our writing and not try to force an interpretation on the reader, which I really am fascinated by. All those subtle little details we read in books are not as easy to write as they look. I really don’t think there’s much that is effortless in writing.


How does it feel to be an MA student taking an MFA course? What are you gaining as a scholar by taking this course?

Honestly it was really intimidating at first, and even now it’s still a little scary. I believe there is one other MA besides me, but the two of us are surrounded by these insanely talented, creative writers who may have been studying creative writing for two years in their MFA. However, I quickly felt at home in the class; we are all scholars who love writing and want to learn how to be better writers. In that class, we’re all writers.

Last week I had my first workshop, where everyone reads your work and talks about it for a while, and it’s honestly the most terrifying and humbling experience. I’m showing what I see as basically my child and it is being examined and discussed by 10+ people, most of who have been studying the art of creative writing for quite a while.

As a scholar, it reminds me how much love and time and effort are put into this work, and also it reminds me how vulnerable authors are to scholars. Last year I spent a couple months pretty intensely writing about and poring over a book I was really passionate about, and I found some interviews from the author about how a lot of the book is based on his real life. I’m a bit wary to use the study of biographical influence sometimes, but I saw this author’s grief in the book that he is putting out for anyone to read. I tend to forget there is a mind, a heart, behind every writing I encounter, whether it be a picture book or an academic, analytical text. On the other hand, when we’re the ones writing it’s really hard to not be emotional about some aspect of our piece.

I’m also reminded how vulnerable my own writing is. I’m experiencing those emotions of writing, and the difficulty of putting those emotions to the page, and after all that, I show it to a class full of people who for the most part I met one month ago. Academic writing can sometimes seem cold and calculated, but it’s not. Academic writing can be just as vulnerable as creative writing, and really, in learning about creative writing, I’m realizing how creative academic writing is.  


As a literature scholar, sometimes it is easy to forget that the author’s lived experiences influence the work that they produce. Having met and studied under an author, how does it impact the way you read his works?

I haven’t read many of his works yet, but I have read “Last Stop on Market Street” by Matt. Knowing Matt humanizes the author of course, and I am able to appreciate all the hard work that goes into his writing. We mostly only see books when they are sold: finished, perfected, every t crossed every i dotted; in this class we get little insights into all of the emotions behind writing a work. It makes the work so much more dimensional; I want to know every meaning behind the words. 


What works have you produced in this course so far? How do you feel about them, as someone who studies literature?

We have only done short works in class, and for my one workshop I submitted a chapter of my novel I finished last year. I’m somewhat happy with my chapter, but after my workshop I am seeing a lot of work that needs to be done. It’s been four days since my workshop, and I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about how it would be perceived by an audience beyond our class, and that’s terrifying to think of. I honestly have really mixed feelings about how my own creative writing is, and I think that might be something a lot of writers experience. Part of me thinks what I have written is good, but another part of me just thinks about how I could make it better.

I feel that my work is never done, there is always something to tinker with in writing, whether it be academic or creative. Honestly, if someone were to ask if reading my book would be enjoyable, I would have no clue how to answer. Overall though, I think getting this strong basis in creative writing, especially by studying young protagonists, I am reminded how dimensional books are, and I hope my writing reflects that. 


Thank you so much, Sofia! We loved hearing about your experience working with Matt de la Peña as an MA student. Matt de la Peña will be speaking alongside Chris Baron, author of All of Me, on Wednesday, October 16th at 7 p.m. in Love Library, Room 430. We hope to see you there!


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Jacob's Room to Choose-and our Book to Choose

According to Fran Wilde in the article, “Three children’s authors on the importance of tough topics in young people’s literature,” “Children’s literature has a long history of engaging with tough topics in small and large ways and wrapping them up in adventure” (washingtonpost.com).  Sarah and Ian Hoffman’s picture book, Jacob’s Room to Choose, is no exception. The story follows Jacob and Sophie, two gender non-conforming children, as they go about their day at school. Jacob is introduced as a young boy (according to the pronouns used in the story) who is stereotypically “girly” toting a blonde bob and a green dress, while his friend, Sophie, sports a bouffant Afro and wears khakis and a button-down shirt. When we first read Jacob’s Room to Choose, we thought it was perfect. It challenges gender binaries, so really, what more could we ask for?

Just a bit more. Maybe?

Although choosing to address the issue of gender non-conforming bathrooms in a children’s picture book is an amazing idea, the forced assumptions at the beginning of the book detracts from its overall purpose. The story begins with “Jacob and Sophie loved library time.” (n.p.) The names, however, do not match how the children are arranged in the beautifully rendered illustration by Chris Case. The reader is forced to assume that Jacob is on the left and Sophie is on the right because the names are ordered that way. However, the accompanying image shows Sophie lying on the left and Jacob lying on the right. This misleading pattern continues for a few more pages: “Jacob and Sophie raised their hands (Sophie is again on the reader’s left side and Jacob is on the right).” “Sophie walked through one door./ Jacob took a deep breath and walked through the other.” (n.p.) This time Jacob stands on the left facing the sign that indicates the restroom for boys and Sophie stands on the right side facing the opposite sign. Rather than allowing the reader to make the mistake of mis-identifying the children themselves, the text is arranged in such a way that forces this assumption on the reader. This seems like a missed opportunity for the reader, especially the adult reader, to challenge their own assumptions about gender norms.

One thing Sarah and Ian Hoffman do incredibly well is they refuse to give Jacob a pronoun until the sixth page of the book when Jacob walks into the boys’ restroom: “Two boys were at the sinks. They stared at Jacob standing in the doorway. Jacob knew what that look meant. He turned and ran out.” With the first time Jacob is called “he”, we are provided with the insight that this is not the first time that Jacob has felt uncomfortable going to the boys’ restroom.

This key moment in the restroom can be a very small glimpse into the challenges gender non-conforming children and adults alike may face every day. The author is forced to give Jacob a pronoun when Jacob is within the boys’ restroom, faced by two other boys. Just “that look” is a moment that pulls at us. Jacob knows what “that look” is, he has faced this situation before and appears to be fearful, as he runs out with “his heart pounding”. In this moment, any gender non-conforming person can probably relate to Jacob’s intense fear in this moment.

Later, Ms. Reeves’s activity and subsequent discussion leads Jacob and Sophie’s classmates to consider their own assumptions about where they fit and where the rules say they fit. Ms. Reeves draws a picture of a boy and girl on the board and then asks the question, “‘Are these pictures of what boys and girls really look like?’” the children’s responses vaguely introduces the possibility of non-binary thinking:

“Yes,” said Emily.

“No,” said Sophie.

“Sometimes,” said Jacob. (n.p.)

Emily, who rejects being placed in the boy’s group because she’s wearing pants, still does not understand fully the limitations of strict gender rules outlined in Ms. Reeves’s exercise. Sophie, who rejects performing stereotypical gender norms, gives a different answer. Jacob’s answer, however, offers a third option when he responds, “‘Sometimes,’” (n.p.).

Mike Cadden tells us that “Regardless of the way that a YA novel represents the consciousness of the young adult--by character narration or by external narration that focalizes through young characters--it can produce double-voicedness” (148). In much the same way, Sarah and Ian Hoffman control Jacob’s consciousness in his narrative to create this double-voicedness that both tells what happened and presents a moral. The moral--children like Jacob should be allowed to use whatever restroom they are comfortable using--comes through clearly. However, Jacob’s sadness about not being able to choose is faint and relegated to the background of the story. In the author’s note, Sarah and Ian Hoffman discuss their son, Sam and the purpose behind the picture book. In kindergarten, Sam had waist length hair and loved wearing a pink dress (n.p.). While this author’s note explains the purpose this book, points to a known issue in literature written by adults for children.

They go on to say, “Sam’s interests were a mix of traditional ‘girl’ things like ballet, make-believe, and art, mixed with traditional ‘boy’ things like knights, castles, and dinosaurs, Clinically, children like Sam are called gender-nonconforming; we liked to call him a pink boy--the male equivalent of a tomboy” (n.p.). As soon as we read the author’s note, we began to feel wary about the wording. This reduction of their child to a clinical definition and immediately casting Sam out as “not a traditional boy,” though most likely not intentionally, enforces a gender binary. Sam wears dresses, therefore; he is immediately categorized as an “other” instead of simply a child.

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Works Cited

Hoffman, Sarah, and Ian Hoffman. Jacob's Room to Choose. Magination Press, 2019.

Cadden, Mike. “The Irony of Narration in the Young Adult Novel.” Children's Literature Association Quarterly, Johns Hopkins University Press, 1 Jan. 2009, muse.jhu.edu/article/249865/pdf.

Wilde, Fran. “Three Children’s Authors on the Importance of Tough Topics in Young People’s Literature.” The Washington Post, 9 Apr. 2019, www.washingtonpost.com/lifestyle/2019/04/09/three-childrens-authors-importance-tough-topics-young-peoples-literature/?utm_term=.7bda654513fe.

Book Collection for Toys for Tots

Event: Book Drive for Toys for Tots; sponsored by The National Center for the Study of Children's Literature

When: Ongoing until Monday, December 18th @ 2 pm

Where: Book Collection Box located in SDSU English Dept. Student Lounge (AL 237)

What to Donate: Your favorite childhood book (not used) is encouraged, although we welcome all titles for children up to the age of 14 years old

His Soul is Rising: Visiting Scholar Michelle Martin's Lecture

Scholar Michelle Martin opened her lecture, “Lynching 101: Young Adult Primers on the Murder of Emmett Till, at SDSU’s Love Library with a sobering, bluesy ballad, “The Ballad of Emmett Till” from playwright Ifa Bayeza:

“Come on let me tell yuh the tale of Emmett Till / Though they put his body down / His soul is rising.”

Introduced by Dr. Joseph Thomas, who described her as “clear-eyed, elegant, and aesthetically nuanced,” Michelle Martin tackled the horrifying truth of the brutal 1955 murder in Mississippi—which helped spark the Civil Rights Movement—of 14-year-old Emmett Till. With 2016 marking of the 61^st anniversary of Till’s brutal murder and the American political climate as divided as it has ever been, Martin described ways to include our country’s horrifying past of slavery and objectification in children’s literature. A line is drawn in considering the way that children’s texts often rework sensitive topics, such as racism, to be less authentic as an attempt to protect children. And with this, an inevitable question arises: How, then, does one tell the truth?

The prevalence of violence in our society, from gut-churning brutality in in TV shows like “Game of Thrones” to grim news reports saturating radio shows and news stations, is considered a norm, while also having a numbing effect on our minds. Michelle Martin’s research is focused on how Y.A. texts are engaging young adults more than ever, especially historical fiction about Emmett Till’s lynching. One such book is Chris Crowe’s Mississippi Trial, 1955 and the historical nonfiction companion Getting Away with Murder: The True Story of the Emmett Till Case. These intricate texts of blackness, she notes, are a critical site of resistance and transformation and, thus, important mediations between young readers because they combat sensationalism and clear up inaccuracies surrounding the trial and Emmett Till himself. Bringing this awareness to picture books, on the other hand, is more difficult. Poet laureate Marilyn Nelson wrote A Wreath for Emmett Till as a narrative poem especially for young readers in the the Italian sonnet style, in an effort to try to find the right words without mitigating the reality of Emmett Till’s death. It serves as a remembrance of Till’s murder, his mother’s loss, and the memory of other countless victims that suffered through these atrocities. It’s worth noting that these sequences of sonnets are interlinked and called a “crown of sonnets”—a heroic “crown” for Emmett Till that harkens to the wreath in the book’s title.

In the end, telling and retelling these stories—of Emmett Till, of Eric Garner, of Trayvon Martin—decreases the power of the perpetrators. The contemporary erasure or retelling of Black history is an unsettling commonality due to white privilege and speaks to a need for more accurate narratives of our history. And may those narratives start in young children’s books and young adult novels, and may they propel future generations into action.

Dr. Martin’s visit definitely gave the NCSCL some really intelligent ideas to muse over until next year’s visiting scholar. We thank her for her time and inspiration!

The New Springtime With Visiting Scholar Michelle H. Martin And Say Goodbye To That Famous White Tailed Bunny

What better way to complete last year’s amazing children’s literature scholar, Dr. Michael Heyman's theme, with this Spring’s visiting Scholar Dr. Michelle H. Martin. It appears that rabbit hole is working its magic once again, and the library is the place to be between the end of winter and the first week of Spring—saying out with the old and in with the new. 

(Scroll down to find the details to this not so curious event!)

Last week, the SDSU Love Library held a special event in honor of a missing and recently found Alice mural. The unveiling of the mural took place on Tuesday in the plaza of the Love Library. There were the most festive treats before the audience was moved by the speeches of Dr. Gale Etschmaier, Ed.D. (Dean of the SDSU Library)—who gave the audience context of how the mural project came about and what connection the library had to it; Dr. Carole Scott, Ph.D (faculty emeritus and former Dean of Undergraduate Studies), who read from Lewis Carroll’s text in an energetic and beautiful tone; and Seth Mallios, Ph.D (Anthropology), who gave a moving speech about the project’s significance within SDSU’s own history. After the decorative treats were consumed, the NCSCL followed the library faculty, SDSU faculty, our generous donors, and other SDSU students to Hardy Tower where we found the hidden rabbit hole, and, my was it a sight to see.

And of course, if you were with us last year, you know the visiting scholar covered the topic of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and the brilliance that resides inside nonsense literature. This seamless transition to this year’s visiting scholar is one we could not have planned better ourselves. After a year filled with that little white rabbit that has stolen our hearts away, we are ready to move forward into a new topic that is quite present in our society today.

Dr. Martin’s research interest cover topics in children's and young adult literature, as well as African American children's picture books, art in picture books, and sexual development in children's literature. Her numerous publications include: “Let Freedom Ring: Land, liberty, literacy and lore in Mildred Taylor” appearing in Oxford Handbook of Children's Literature, “African American” appearing in Keywords for Children's Literature, “'He's so sweet': Bon-bon buddy, literary child of Arna Bontemps and Langston Hughes” appearing in Children's Literature Association Quarterly 35.3, “Pioneers of the Genre: Arna Bontemps, Langston Hughes, and the 'roots' of African American children's literature” appearing in Embracing, Evaluating and Examining African American Children's and Young Adult Literature, and her book out of Routledge Press titled Brown gold: Milestones of African-American children's picture books.

Dr. Martin will be giving an amazing and unforgettable lecture that is a must-see to bring in this new Spring season. With the way politics are taking place currently in our society and the amount of hope that we must continue to hold for our children and generations to come, we encourage all to come witness this inspiring scholar.

TALK INFORMATION:

LYNCHING 101: YOUNG ADULT PRIMERS ON THE MURDER OF EMMETT TILL

THE NCSCL 2016 VISITING SCHOLAR'S LECTURE

EVENT DETAILS:

WHO: MICHELLE H. MARTIN

UNIVERSITY OF SOUTH CAROLINA

DATE: WEDNESDAY, MARCH 23RD

TIME: 5:00-6:30 PM

PLACE: LOVE LIBRARY-LEON WILLIAMS ROOM (430 & 431)

Images from last week's Alice mural unveiling:

"Unplugging" Children from Learning

Dan Yaccarino’s Doug Unplugged is the story of a little boy robot who veers off track from his parents’ “plugged in” lifestyle in order to experience a new kind of learning based on experiences than facts.

The book begins with:

“This is Doug. He’s a robot.

Each morning his parents plug him in to fill him up with lots and lots of facts. They love their little robot and want him to be the smartest robot ever.”

In this story, Doug’s parents can be seen as a representation of the contemporary parents who emphasize the importance of education for the betterment of their child’s life. They show their affection for him by providing him with the opportunity to fill up with “lots and lots of facts.” They even tell him, “Happy downloading” as they go to work, leaving Doug at home to learn on his own by “plugging in.”

Yaccarino’s text reminds us of the state of the 21^st century family in this technologically driven culture, where television, computer games, and phone apps dominate the free time of the young child and adolescent. Assuming the children’s TV programing they are exposed to is educational, it still requires the child to be able to absorb the lessons being talked about in an abstract manner and apply it in real world experiences.

Doug’s absorption based learning is interrupted by a pigeon that lands on the windowsill of his apartment that day. Doug recognizes that the bird is a pigeon, but “he didn’t know they made such a funny cooing sound!” Doug is intrigued by this new information that isn’t told to him but rather experienced by him personally. Preferring this method of learning, he leaves home and goes out into the city to learn in a different manner.

In this adventure, Doug encounters a little boy that asks him to play. Unfamiliar with the concept, Doug is intrigued by the simple child games of “hide-and-seek” and “tag” that are both socializing aspects of childhood, but also a great form of exercise!

Once Doug’s newfound friend returns to his parents, Doug likewise returns home to his own parents, only to return in the second Doug book: Doug Unplugs on the Farm. 

Doug and his parents are on their way to visit “the grandbots” when Dad tells everyone to “plug in” so they can learn about the country on their drive. Doug learns “bushels of facts about farm things,” like “a baby pig is called a piglet” and “horses can pull plows.” But once again Doug’s downloading is interrupted when a flock of sheep runs across the road and causes their car to fall into a ditch, but “worse—the whole family came unplugged!”

While the parents try and fail to pull the car back up from the ditch, Doug wanders and explores the surrounding area, helping a local farm girl do her chores. Like his first experience with unplugging, Doug is able to learn not just facts but sensations such as smelly pigs and bossy roosters.

This experiential and sensory type of learning appeals to Doug and at the end he chooses to stay unplugged. I applaud Yaccarino’s text not just for the message to children to live an unmediated life rather than plugging in, but also for his use of a young robot for his protagonist as a critique of the modern child. The pressures from parents and school officials on children to memorize and spit back out information like a computer forces children into this life as a robot. The fact that children appeal to his robotic nature shows the correlation of our own cybernetic nature.

I leave you with Yaccarino’s message on the end cover of Doug Unplugs at the Farm: “Have you unplugged?”