Enter: 11 Experiments That Failed by Jenny Offill. Make no mistake–this picture book is not going to be taken as a textbook about the scientific method.  It’s fun and silly, but it’s actually a great introduction to the hypothesis as the girl from 17 Things I’m Not Allowed to Do Anymore has all sorts of ideas–most of which kids are going to recognize as bad ideas–and tests them out with comical results.

Here’s hoping it’s just the beginning of our science adventures!

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For more about science for kids, see my Secular Thursday page.

Disclosure: Amazon links are affiliate links.

Recently, I’ve run across a couple of different articles about people with disabilities and our assumptions about them. These issues feel personal to me because I was born with a limb deficiency–technically a disability.  I am no stranger to assumptions based on what people think they see.

The first link was being tweeted around some by some parenting folks I follow.  A mom of a child with cerebral palsy writes “This is what a child with a disability looks like, right? Wrong.”  You see, her son doesn’t Look Disabled.   That seems like a good thing until you find yourself having to convince people that your child has a disability.  Over and over again.  I should be glad that I have the opposite problem.  When people see me, they think they see a disabled person, and they make the usual assumptions about what I can and can’t do.  I have the task of pleasantly surprising people.  I can’t count the number of times I’ve heard some version of this: “Oh! You can tie your own shoes! That’s wonderful!”  Their eyebrows mark the exclamation points after every sentence.  It gets old sometimes.  I mean, I’m a grown-ass woman.  You should not be surprised that I can tie my own shoes.  Did you know that I can tie my shoes even without my prosthetic arm?  Now I’ve surprised you!  :)  I understand the surprise.  I really do.  If I weren’t me, I’d probably be surprised too.

The second article was written from a perspective I lived myself: Pregnancy With a Disability.  The woman, a psychologist, writes of situations that were familiar to me (people asking if the disability is genetic) and some that I hadn’t encountered (being labelled as a high risk pregnancy without a good reason).  Particularly interesting to me was her brief mention of learning to breastfeed with one arm. In all the reading and preparing I’d done while pregnant, it had never occurred to me that being down one limb might affect nursing.  And really, my biggest challenge in learning to breastfeed with a limb deficiency was in getting the nurses in the hospital to believe that I could and to help me try.  Once I got past that obstacle, it was about as smooth sailing as learning to breastfeed ever is.

A zine about what people have said to me about my prosthetic arm.

These two articles get at why I talk, blog, and publish about being different.  I understand the assumptions.  I’m not asking that they not occur to people initially. I just don’t want people to be so hard to convince when I tell you I can do something.  I don’t want people to be quite so surprised.  I want to change what you think you see, so that next time you run in to someone who looks like me, you’ll be just a bit more open to what’s really there.

I recently read Janet Tashjian’s newest middle grade novel, My Life as a Stuntboy.  It’s a bit of a departure for me because I rarely read tween novels and when I do, I usually go for “girl books” over “boy books.”  It was a fast, fun read that I expect will have strong appeal to reluctant readers in elementary or middle school.  But that’s not what I want to talk about.  I want to talk about cyber-bullying.

Two things really interested me about the way cyber-bullying was handled in this book:

1. It was between two friends who were fighting.  It wasn’t that big mean kid who everyone hates being a jerk to other kids.  It was a regular kid who felt hurt by something his friend had done.  He retaliated by posting an embarrassing video of his friend on YouTube for everyone to see.  According to Stomp Out Bullying, “53% of kids admit having said something mean or hurtful to another person online. More than 1 in 3 have  done it more than   once.”  When we’re talking about bullying, we need to move beyond the idea that it’s everyone else.  It’s all of us.
2. The victim doesn’t tell his parents about the video because he doesn’t want them to feel bad.   Another statistic from Stomp Out Bullying: “58% have not told their parents or an adult about something mean or hurtful that happened to them online.”  That’s part of why this week exists.  We need to get this stuff out in the open.

In all honesty, this is an example of one of the ways that it can be hard for me to read children’s literature now that I’m a parent.  After reading this book, I looked at my little girl, and I saw someone who might keep secrets to spare my feelings.  Kidlit does not help my desire to NOT be the mom who obsesses over every little possibility. (Nor does my other main reading material: parenting books.) But it does help me see where she might be coming from in a few years.   Of course, I’ve blogged about that before.

My Life as a Stuntboy had a happy ending.  The video was removed, the boys made up, and life went back to normal.  The characters in the book lived through the experience, and our kids probably will too.  I’m not going to start obsessing on a problem before it’s a problem.  I’m going to continue to recommend books like My Life as a Stuntboy to kids and their parents in the hopes that they will talk about the story together. I am a firm believer in the idea that books can change the world if we let them change us.

Outside my window, snow is falling.  Perhaps we will have a real Minnesota winter this year yet.  Watching snow out the window when I have nowhere to go is one of my favorite winter activities.  My soundtrack to the snow is Minneapolis band Lucy Michelle and the Velvet Lappelles.   I’m looking forward to their upcoming record, HEAT, which “is comprised of all original material written predominantly by Lucy Michelle during the bone-chilling Minnesota winter of 2010. Many of the songs center around the feeling of being trapped and isolated while yearning to be somewhere else; physically or psychologically.”  More about the new record in this video:

Happy Awards Day, Happy Snow Falling Day, Happy Monday.  Enjoy.

“Ironically, new technology has reinforced the nostalgic cultural gaze: now that we have instant universal access to every old image and recorded sound, the future has arrived and it’s all about dreaming of the past.”

Perhaps he’s right.  He certainly makes an interesting case.  Looking at the area of pop culture I know best–children’s books, obviously–he certainly seems on the mark.  Look at last year’s Caldecott Award winner: A Sick Day for Amos McGee has a vintage look to it that make it seem like it could have been a book from my childhood rather than the newly published picture book that it is.  Not to mention, last year was clearly a historical fiction year for the Newbery.

If nostalgia is still at play in this year’s awards (announced tomorrow morning, for anyone not eagerly anticipating them like myself!), my predictions are Grandpa Green by Lane Smith for the Caldecott and Okay for Now by Gary Schmidt for the Newbery.

I wouldn’t complain if those were the books that took the awards this year, but I have to admit, there is a part of me that really wants this to be the year for humor.  Mostly, I just want I Want My Hat Back to win.  It’s kind of dark and cynical in a way that children’s just aren’t usually, and I love it.  I’d be surprised if it won, but I’m pulling for it.

In any case, I’m excited!  I’ll be up early tomorrow morning to hear the announcements live from the conference in Dallas.  Happy awards Monday, everyone!