Personal Stories of Escape: Bringing History and Current events to Life: THE PAPER BOAT

 As Afghanistan scrolls across our screens and into our lives during these troubled days of exit and ending a two-decade war, we've been reminded that half the population of that troubled country is under twenty-five, with little-to-no personal experience with or memory of the ruthless Taliban control that existed from the late nineties until the battles began following 9/11/2001. Even so, their oppressive legacy makes the resulting panic and desperation to escape understandable, to say the least. (Link is to a short video clip from THE GUARDIAN).

Another wartime comparison that is being referenced across most media involves the final days of the Viet Nam War (one that was never actually declared a war) and the subsequent frantic escape by those who were well aware of potential consequences for anyone who was left behind. (Link is to a short documentary from WBUR/NPR). In that case, the vast proportion of Americans and global audiences are too young to have clear (if any) memories of those events as they actually occurred, even if they've gained s bit of information through subsequent movies, books, etc. Sadly, these are not lived experiences that might trigger intense empathy and urge actions to support Afghan refugees. 

A recent post featured three picture books created by individuals who lived those refugee experiences, books that allow readers to immerse themselves in a virtual experience and connect more fully than through most other media. As this current situation plays out in Afghanistan, I have no doubt that books of all kinds, including picture books. will emerge. Even in the accelerated publishing world, these will take time to reach us. Begin now to achieve that empathy with a look back at the titles I recommended HERE, and also at this remarkable picture book, created in wordless graphic-story format, with a single page author note at the end that is a must-read. 

Owl Kids, 2020

THE PAPER BOAT: A REFUGEE STORY is the work of THAO LAM. Thao resides in Toronto, Ontario, Canada, where she arrived with her family when she was only three. They escaped Viet Nam through a death-defying and lengthy process that is summarized in that concluding note. 

Her success as an author and artist has produced several picture books that are worth exploring, utilizing an art style that is appealing and powerful. In the case of her most recent work, THAO (Owlkids, 2021), she addresses the impact of having a name that elicits mispronunciation and other identity-denying patterns that undermine self-acceptance and community connection. I hope you will check it out HERE, especially if you are a teacher, coach, or other adult leader of children of any age. In it, she incorporates  childhood photo images into her characteristic collage-and-more illustrations. 

So, finally, I have reached the part of this post that discusses the featured title, THE PAPER BOAT: A REFUGEE STORY. Trust me, it is worth the wait. Other than the text on newspaper front pages that she illustrated in opening and final endpapers, this is a wordless story that tells readers all they thought that would want to know, and more. Those headlines, dates, and simplified photo images deserve as much careful attention and reflection as the body of the visual narrative panels and illustrations. They set the stage for readers, even those without the slightest sense of how the Viet Nam War unfolded and ended. When an ant appears on the title spread, a sheet of newspaper is rolled and used to swat it. There are symbolic and literal elements to that opening, even though the surface story is easily "read" as literal. In fact, I took that approach once I had my hands on the book. One mindful read-through produced a powerful and emotional journey of escape, a reading filled with high-stakes tension, characters I cared for, and complexity of circumstances that required sustained attention and interpretation.

After reading the graphic visual narrative, I read the author note and related content at the back, with a first response of diving right back into the full storytelling visual content. That led me to an entirely enriched experience, which made me wonder why the note had not been at the start. 

That thought led me back into the book yet again, this time to wonder at that question. This, to me, was a learning experience about the remarkable talent of Thao Lam, not only as an artist or storyteller. My appreciation of her creation in this work focused on the extent to which her intent and design produced a picture book for many ages: one that informs, sparks curiosity and empathy, and could also be studied in adult history and literature classes. As mentor text, her control of symbolism, sequence, and emotional connection can inspire and inform teachers, readers and writers across time. At the same time, this books serves as a passport to join Lam's personal journey, to learn by becoming a virtual traveler at her side, and to marvel at the discreet memories and experiences that remain significant in her life. 

That's a lot, right? 

For me, it also drew me into an intense consideration of current news though imagined individual lenses, wondering how each will fare, how those who survived would register the experiences, and how their stories might, eventually, be shared. They must be. And we, as well as readers to come, must read them thoughtfully and eagerly, seeking deeper awareness that  everyone in the human family, each and every one, is our closest relative. To never forget, we could be them.