Ok, so I know people don't really use the word 'sissy' anymore (there are many other choice terms that are now thrown around), but Tomie de Paola's 1979 book still has relevance today. In fact, you could almost image the story coming right out of a news report.
"In local news today, a young elementary school boy was bullied so consistently by classmates about his behavior that..." Well, you get the idea. No, nothing tragic happens to Oliver in this book. But he does experience what many boys and girls do when they try to step out of their strict gender roles-- feeling ostracized and disliked by members of his own gender...leaning on people of the opposite gender to support and understand him.
Oliver loves all sorts of things that boys are not supposed to love: reading, drawing pictures, playing with paper dolls, dressing up, dancing. I'd like to think that more than 30 years after the publication of this book, we would be in a world where it would be more acceptable for little boys to do these things. Unfortunately, I don't think it is. If Oliver were here in 2011, his dad and other boys would probably still be calling him a sissy.
But, as with most picture books, there is hope in the end. Oliver shines at what he does best and the others appreciate him...finally. A book about acceptance of differences and breaking down the walls of stereotypes. I had seen this book in the library so many times before, but never really took the time to open it up. It will now be on my read aloud list each year as I continue my focus on social justice education.
Tomie de Paola's signature, almost folk art, style shines through in a simply illustrated tale with a limited palette of muted browns, grays, and blues. His pencil sketches give certain images texture, while his acrylic backgrounds take the reader from lighthearted to disheartened moods. Also, the use of vignettes move the story along as we see Oliver in action. Oliver's dancing creates a great sense of movement, action, and drama. The final illustration shows us how far Oliver has come...no longer enclosed in a rigid frame, he is enveloped in a circle of spotlight. His picture bleeds into the white border of the page. Oliver no longer needs to be contained in a square. People are proud of him and accept him for who he is...someone who never let rules about 'being a boy' hold him back. A great book overall with a powerful message for us all.
Ramon loves to draw-- anything, anytime, anywhere. Unfortunately, one day his big brother makes fun of his drawing, causing Ramon to crumple up all of his future efforts. He is unaware, though, that as he is discounting his drawings, his sister is secretly picking them up and treasuring them in her room. She declares his style 'ish' art (i.e. tree-ish, vase-ish, house-ish) and reminds him that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. (Heck, most modern art is even less 'ish' than 'ish' and it is still considered fine art!) Ramon is reinspired and begins to take pride in his drawings again.
A sequel to Peter H. Reynolds' The Dot, ish (2004) is a great book for anyone who has ever felt like their art wasn't good enough. If you do any research on Reynolds, you will find that he is inspired by children as well as motivated to inspire them. He travels to different schools, encouraging young artists and reminding them to not lose their creative side, relaxing about feeling the need to be perfect. This book sends that message across in a simple, poignant manner.
Reynolds' wraparound cover shows us a boy who is free with his art and feels confident in his abilities, his brush carrying the picture from the back cover to the front. The endpages and title page ironically have more bold color in them than the rest of the book, perhaps illustrating the growth of this young artist's confidence. The final publishing page includes a dedication to Reynolds' art teacher who 'dared me to draw for myself and find my voice'. Reynolds pays it forward with this book, encouraging his readers to find their voices.
When I flipped through the pages of the book at first, Reynolds' style looked familiar to me. Upon further investigation, I found out that his art is all over my classroom and I never knew it! He has illustrated all of the Judy Moody collection, as well as the most recent versions of Judy Blume's Fudge books. Reynolds used watercolor, ink, and tea to create this book, with dark outlines surrounding each figure which is then shaded in with a pale, limited range of colors (mostly yellows, oranges, greens, and blues). There is a lot of white space bordering the cartoon-style (almost naive) vignettes and color does not dominate any page. It is mostly his unconventional lines that stand out, outlining the characters and objects in unique ways. The fact that they are squiggly and imperfect exemplify Reynolds' message that art does not have to be flawless-- its quirks give it character. The emotion and warmth come through even with the simplest of illustrations. Even Reynolds' text is hand-lettered, adding to the simplicity of the book. It's small size makes it feel like it is meant to be shared in an intimate way, telling that little person 'Come sit right here next to me and I'll tell you a story.' Good things come in small packages.
I tend to discount my artistic abilities in front of my students, which I now realize might plant a seed of doubt in them, causing them to question their art. I don't want to do that anymore and will make an effort to be brave in sharing my work (and showing pride in it, too). I want to share this sweet, simple, yet powerful book with my students to remind them that there is no 'right' or 'perfect' in art...it's more important that it means something to you (even 'ish' is great!). It will inspire all who read it to look at the world in a new way.
