Note: there are APA formatted citations below the titles and authors for reference to the texts. Also, as these were responses to literature, these were informal and, therefore, do not have titles beyond the novel they are discussing.
Milkweed
By Jerry Spinelli
Spinelli, Jerry.(2003). Milkweed. New York City, NY: Scholastic Inc.
When it comes to political problems or adult conflicts, children are generally thought of as innocent minds that either can’t understand or shouldn’t be exposed to the harsh realities such situations involve. War, and all of its complexities, is something that many adults feel is best described to kids in a fantastical way of good/bad or right/wrong, without any details or complications of war and its impact on people of any age. As the world evolves, though, so should the way children are taught to understand and learn from the past. Milkweed is one novel that does this, as it shows conflict arising out of intolerance and the effects of war and racism on a society and the individuals involved—both of which are described from the viewpoint of an impressionable young boy that knows nothing about stereotypes, differences, or politics—a perfect viewpoint for young adults to connect with.
In Children’s Literature: An Issues Approach, the author states that “for children, peer relationships and problems getting along with others are akin to the concerns that emerge on a global level”(pg 369). This issue is clearly the foundation of the reasons behind the events in Milkweed. The interesting twist in the novel is that the viewpoint is from a young boy with no established attitudes, or knowledge of their presence in general, toward others’ differences. A homeless orphan his entire life, he doesn’t even have a name—he is only given one (Misha) when he is finally taken care of by the first people willing to help him. Since the first person he connects with, Uri, is Jewish, who deduces that Misha may be a Gypsy, the reader can see that he has no knowledge of the plight being felt among people of this culture or heritage in Warsaw, Poland. On page 49, Uri tells him “when you’re nothing, you’re free to believe anything.”
I love the thoughtful decision that Spinelli made to use a child of an anonymous heritage as the main character. It allows the reader, therefore, to understand that the persecution unfolding in the story is about something that cannot be deciphered by looks alone, nor can it be seen through some sort of evil or negative way of life that makes them “bad guys.” Misha could have befriended a Christian and would never have witnessed the aspect of the Holocaust that he did. Yet he came under the guidance and care of a band of Jewish homeless kids, and later a Jewish well-to-do family. Not only does this reveal how respect and nurturing can come from many places, but it also allows the reader to connect with the persecuted—a concept that must have been strategic and important in Spinelli’s mind, especially since this racism can be relatable to children who are in the midst of confronting judgments or attitudes of others that conflict with their own.
Another important part of the novel is the depiction of Janina’s family, The Milgroms. Misha thought of them initially just like many other inhabitants of Warsaw—weathy people with a large house filled with food to steal. Their eventual relocation into the ghetto, while Misha observed so many other people of equal affluence and finances, is a prime example of how something so devastating and appalling can happen to the “everyman.” Anyone can relate to the Milgroms—from the respected doctor (father), to the caring mother, to the person who tries to believe that there has to be a rational way to be free from a situation by making an effort to conform (Uncle Shepsel). The contrast between who that are/where they had lived and what they had been forced into due to their familial beliefs and traditions is a powerful portrait for children to see in order to learn that, without tolerance and respect for differences, situations can (and have historically proven to) turn into battles, wars, trouble, and possible death. These ideas must be taught in such an identifiable way for children so that these attitudes can stop or change, or never exist before they get older. If a school were to be separated, for instance, by IQ levels, and the students with less-than-above intelligence were sent away, degraded, or chastised (even if they have an abundance of skills, attitudes, or common sense compared to some of the others), what would they do? How would they feel? This, as the article cited above and the novel both show in their own way, is something that can relate something as horrific as the Holocaust to young children everywhere.
One perspective that I wish had been portrayed in the novel is that of an everyday man, woman, or child in the other group of people—all non-Jews. I believe the point of equality among all of the inhabitants as it relates to their role in the society and their own self morals, values, and attitudes would certainly be stronger if they were represented as well. Since the only non-persecuted that we see are depicted as snobby fur-wearing citizens screaming at the homeless stealing food, evil Jackboots, or girlfriends of the Jackboots who consider an evening stroll in the ghetto more like a circus show filled with caged animals, the attitude is clearly very bias about the entire population of non-Jews in Warsaw.
“They were Jews. I knew them by the armbands they wore…this was a big help in telling who was a Jew…” (pg 69) Children are constantly struggling to find their own identities and to relate to others. Regardless of what changes in society, politics, and culture, judgments are made that can be either good or bad. I believe some of the biggest lessons Milkweed can teach are to have acceptance of others, to treat (and truly help) others the way you want in return, and, most of all, to spread this selfless humanity to others so that historical devastations such as the Holocaust doesn’t happen again. As we, as an increasingly culturally-aware society, know, it is a lot easier to teach good morals and behaviors from the beginning than to change bad ones. Children, therefore, shouldn’t be sheltered from such historical and present events such as war.
Wringer
By Jerry Spinelli
Spinelli, Jerry. (1997). Wringer. New York City, NY: HarperCollins Children’s Books.
The pressure of conforming to societal mores is unavoidable, especially for children, because they are already in a struggle to create their own personal identities while living up to the expectations created for them by their society and loved ones. In the past, gender roles were very easily defined—girls took mandatory Home-Ec classes, knowing that their role was to be a wife and mother, and, while they increasingly possessed various jobs or careers, femininity and motherhood were still constants in their expectations as women. Men have always been expected to be reliable, strong providers and protectors. Even in much of today’s society in America, sensitivity and nurturing are two characteristics that are expected in women rather than men. These coming-of-age issues of gender role expectations are the major theme in Wringer, as Palmer continuously struggles with his sensitive and humane feelings while trying to be the “All-American” boy that is expected of him by his community and friends.
As with all of Spinelli’s novels, the setting of the story is designed to place the main issue (in this case, gender roles) in a clearly defined format—girls are naïve and play with dolls, and boys are, in essence, “ruffians” who, at ten, are expected to unquestioningly and eagerly become “wringers” that kill wounded pigeons during the town’s ritualistic rite-of-passage festival event. The main character, Palmer, AKA Snots, approaches his tenth birthday conflicted and insecure about his overwhelming feelings of humanity and sensitivity toward others, particularly these pigeons. This is described to the reader in an abundance of beautiful imagery and expression. When Palmer describes his first encounter (in real, present time in the novel) with the crates of pigeons, he describes what he sees: “ten thousand orange eyes burned holes in my heart.” (pg 63) As the story develops, Palmer becomes increasingly desperate to impress others with his maturity and “typically boyish” attitudes. He runs around taunting the girl next door, plays roughly with the boys he befriends, accepts his first “Treatment” with courage on his ninth birthday, and gets in trouble at school. Unbeknownst to his male friends and family, however, his motivations in most of what his does are to protect his secret—his compassion and appreciation for others, and particularly his secret pet pigeon, Nipper. While trying to live up to his society’s male expectations, he also grows to be a nurturing and loving caregiver to his bird—wondering how Nipper is, worrying if he doesn’t show up, and terrified at the thought of others finding and killing his friend. The following scenario is a great portrayal of Palmer’s moral, caring character:
“Certain scenarios gave him the sweats. It is afternoon, and the guys are in the backyard just as… Nipper swoops in to land on the porch roof. Or the guys sneak into his room at night, as they did before, and one of them… opens the closet door.” (pg 96)
In the end, Palmer learns to embrace the kindhearted, nice boy who prefers non-brutality and openness—a cheesy moral, but an important one for children to learn. In doing so, he had to give up his guise of being the typical boy, and he lost the “respect” of the boys he had once longed (and succeeded) to be accepted by. Yet, despite the difficulties and torments he encounters with exposing his true self to a society and peer age group where “different” is often confused with “abnormal” instead of “unique,” the reader is still left with the belief that this kind of life decision is natural and highly respectable. Also, again in typical Spinelli-style, while the open road ahead is not shown to be easy, it is at least the best path to self-acceptance and happiness one can expect to have. “Palmer went to bed that night with a grin on his face. For the first time in his life, he was not the only sleeper in his room. He did not turn on the nightlight. (pg 87)
The House on Mango Street
By Sandra Cisneros
Cisneros, Sandra. (1984). The House on Mango Street. New York City, NY: Vintage Books.
“No, Alicia says. Like it or not you are Mango Street, and one day you’ll come back too.
Who’s going to do it? The mayor?
And the thought of the mayor coming to Mango street makes me laugh out loud.
Who’s going to do it? Not the mayor.”(p. 158)
Many people born in America have a cultural identity and expectations that seem pretty basic: American. And while this sounds quite nondescript and basic, it isn’t as easy to acclimate to or integrate into as we would like to think. Yes, some know that they have heritage ties to other countries, but the traditions, by and large, are not defined as much by these cultures. Those that don’t fit this description (let’s say, many of the ones who don’t check the “white/Anglo/Caucasian” box) are blessed by having an intercultural awareness beyond burgers and fireworks. Yet they are also burdened by a social struggle to fit into the (often judgmental) American culture (and desire for the “dream”) while keeping the traditions and pride they have of their heritage. The House on Mango Street is a collection of stories that describe the perils, concerns, and pressures of this cultural tug-of-war. While Esperanza possesses the envious ability to unquestioningly accept people of all walks of life, she grows to understand that the average American society is not as willing to be so culturally colorblind.
Throughout the novel, Esperanza’s innocent observations of the world around her show the reader two real truths about multiculturalism in America. The first is that judgments typical come from all people, regardless of age, gender, or race. The second is that the traditions of your heritage and expectations of your role in it can become a prison keeping you from your dreams if you let them. Her family moved to Mango Street to grab their dream of owning a house of their own. Yet Esperanza is constantly disappointed that this accomplishment (and the consequent ones, like buying nice clothing) isn’t what she expected: she wanted true dream, not the one she believes her parents simply “settled” with. In the year described in the novel, though, the reader sees a variety of ways that the ties of cultural traditions, compounded with the way people are judged because of their desire to either keep completely true to their heritage and familial roles or conform too quickly, completely, and superficially to the “American way.” It seems that Esperanza is baffled and disappointed at how so many people in her neighborhood “settled” with surviving the only way that they knew how instead of fighting for their independence and self-worth. Furthermore, she, too, wants badly to be someone people notice and respect, but she also wants to remember what she can about her heritage, and fulfill her role there as well. Unlike many others around her, though, she learns that the way to reach her “American dream” is by keeping true to her heritage yet sacrificing some of the traditions she has been taught to value so highly in order to grow independently into her own.
One admirable quality in Cisnero’s portrayal of this neighborhood is the nonchalant tone in which the events and people on Mango Street are described. Each vision of the people reveals so much more than what the little girl seems to realize. From Cathy, who seems to judge everyone based on their heritage or family traditions (mainly because this is the tradition of her family) and Sally with her abusive father, to Louie’s cousin, Sire, and Earl, who live scandalous lives that she describes so innocently to us. While Esperanza searches desperately to find companionship and acceptance, she can never seem to find it for long—she can’t even be a “normal” kid going to the cafeteria for lunch because she doesn’t fit the requirements.
While I was reading, I often disliked how broken and unrelated some of the stories were to me. I kept going back though the novel to remind myself about who each person was and how they affected Esperanza’s vision of the world. Yet by the end of the novel, the lessons Esperanza learns become easy to see. Many artistically revealed contrasts could be inferred between the life everyone seemed to want, and the way that each person, in various ways, was so focused on superficial desires to be satisfied and “noticed” that they lost sight in their original motivation to work toward being emotionally and intellectually satisfied and independent—instead of relying on men or their traditional roles. I realized that Cisneros shows the reader so many portraits in order to explain how many ways that people can end up being stuck in a cycle of settling for contentment, and this reveals where this cycle of prejudice, fear, and resentment gets perpetuated.
Two great pieces of advice came to Esperanza at the end of the novel that are important for all children to know. Her mom tells her, “shame is a bad thing, you know. It keeps you down.” (pg 91) This is a great moral to bring to students—not to be so focused on proving that you are noteworthy that you hide where you come from and what’s inside of you (this could be certainly referenced through the symbolism of the music box in Gil’s furniture store). The other lesson came from the story about the three sisters. “When you leave you must remember to come back for the others. A circle, understand? You will always be Esperanza. You will always be Mango Street. You can’t erase what you know. You can’t forget who you are.” (pg 105) Esperanza seems to put these lessons together in the end. Everyone, young and old, can learn so much through these words of wisdom. Accept who they are, appreciate how you got there, and achieve your goals by being independent, strong, and focused on your self-values and dreams instead of material acceptance.
Throughout this collection of stories, Cisneros shows us all that no one should ever just settle for an alternative to their dreams and true happiness. While it may be hard, very hard, it is possible to break through the societal pressures and constructs that many people face. As shown through Esperanza’s young, naïve perspective of her life and those around her, one overall truth prevails: all you need is a balance between keeping your mind focused on what you want and, in the end, remembering and respecting how you got there.
Walking to the Bus-Rider Blues
by Harriette Gillem Robinet
by Harriette Gillem Robinet
Robinet, Harriette Gillem. (2000). Walking to the Bus-Rider Blues. New York City, NY: Scholastic, Inc.
“Until justice rolls down like waters, and righteousness like a mighty stream”
The violation of civil rights of African Americans until the late twentieth century is a difficult thing for many young people nowadays to fully understand easily. The thought of anyone, no matter what race, religion, or gender, being able to treat another human being the way most white Americans treated black women, men, and children back then is something that seems almost impossible to rationalize in today’s society filled with tolerance and equality. However, if you have no other influences in your life that has taught you any different, this type of thing can happen. Even in today’s world, there are still lingering feelings of superiority toward other races in America. That is why novels such as this are important to read: to remind ourselves of what our past had been, and not too long ago really.
Unlike many other stories, where the author’s bias very clearly shows the attitudes and reactions of the extremities of racists in this era, this novel describes life in the south in a very matter-of-fact way. As the author points out in the acknowledgments page, “if we don’t know our history, we’re sometimes tricked into repeating the worst of it.” Though this sentiment seems obvious to me (as well as to most people), it is still something people should be reminded of. In reality, it wasn’t too many years earlier than when the events in the novel took place that America started learning about the horrors going on in Europe because of the Nazi regime; the crimes against non-Arians in Europe, though clearly much more tragic than those going on in 1950s America, were founded on the same racist attitudes and discrimination. Alfa, the 12-year old African American boy in the novel, related very realistic everyday scenarios that would open up the minds and hearts of children today.
Walking to the Bus-Rider Blues is a great examination of the civil rights movement for young children to read. Often, children hear about this era as a long-ago experience that happened to adults. This novel gently describes these events as they happen to young and old alike. Perhaps most importantly, it truly describes how someone as young as Alfa had to cope with very difficult events daily, and how so many kids had to act and react with maturity beyond their years. These, along with everything else that this novel has to teach its readers, are things that make this story a timeless representation of a history we can never allow ourselves to forget or repeat.
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