Medical Pioneering: Tiny Stitches

My grandma lived with us while I was growing up for stretches of several months at a time. I treasure the time I had with her and the many things she taught us. Among those were how to play canasta and euchre, along with the colorful expressions one uses while playing those card games. None were bawdy, just hilarious, much like the altered lyrics to old songs she sang. She regaled us with countless stories of her and my father's various escapades involving her myriad siblings, cousins, aunts, uncles, and neighbors, all living in a tight-knit German community in the midwest. 
I wish I had written those stories at the time, preserving the details of names and places and punchlines. Much stays with me, but so much is lost. 

One thing about which she spoke only briefly and occasionally was unforgettable. 

I had an aunt I would never know. My father was the oldest of not three siblings, but four. He had a baby sister, Rosemary, who lived only a few hours.  She was a "blue baby", and that expression was followed by saying she was born with a bad heart. I still recall my earliest, confused images of what "blue baby" meant, progressing over the years to an adult understanding of congenital heart defects and cyanosis. 

Lee and Low, 2016

While serving on the nonfiction panel for Cybils awards I read TINY STITCHES: The Life of Medical Pioneer Vivien Thomas. Medical progress since the 1920s is impressive on countless fronts, and many individuals deserve credit. In this picture book the author, Gwendolyn Hudson Hooks, reveals the overlooked life of Vivien Thomas. His childhood dream of becoming a doctor was a daring one for an African American at that time in history. He was derailed from his quest after only a year of college by the financial crash of the Depression. 
Thomas found work in a Johns Hopkins medical laboratory, eventually becoming a surgical assistant to a noted heart surgeon. He transferred his desire to become a doctor to dedicating himself to developing procedures and adapting  techniques and tools specific to serving the youngest patients. His devices and processes were capable of performing corrective heart surgery for the tiniest hearts of all, those of blue babies. Surgeries previously thought to be impossible.
With direct and descriptive narrative, Hooks reflects the purposeful and steady approach Thomas took toward this goal and others throughout his professional life. Because he lacked a medical degree he wasn't allowed to perform the surgeries himself. He stood at the elbow of others, guiding them in the live-saving techniques that came too late to save my Aunt Rosemary. His race reinforced many limitations, but eventually he was recognized for his life-saving innovations. 
Colin Bootman's illustrations complement the text perfectly, conveying the intensity and dedication Thomas demonstrated throughout his career. They also portray a realistic view of medical settings, including laboratories and operating theaters. The angles and perspectives within various page spreads show Thomas in relation to others. Those perspectives and expressions tell a story in themselves about both the credit and the dismissive attitudes he dealt with throughout his career.
The good news is that he was eventually awarded an honorary medical degree, joined the faculty of Johns Hopkins Medical College, and is credited with his role in the development of materials, techniques, and care that saves lives on a daily basis around the world. Today the vast majority of infants born with heart defects can be treated successfully and go on to live full and healthy lives.
Read more about Thomas in this archived article, here.
The extensive titles nominated for Cybils non-fiction means that many outstanding books missed the cut as finalists. I'm spotlighting this book because it is among those remarkably well-done books that deserve every bit of attention we can give them. In my opinion it should be included in every library "maker-space" and STEM classroom. And, as I've said so often, it should not be relegated to a box of "Black history" books that are hauled out once a year and then stored away until the next year. The best books are timely and timeless, as this one is. That's true of so many books by Lee and Low Publishers.
Don't miss this one.

Another Not-So-Easy List

In the last post I lamented the challenge of naming favorite anythings, but especially favorite picture book titles. My mental qualifiers regarding the intent, audience, and situations in which books are read or shared make it nearly impossible for me to zero in on a single title or even short list of favorites. That why I declined participating in the Picture Book 10 for 10 blog challenge, instead relying on others more decisive than I am to share their choices. 
I did feature two examples of favorites titles for specific purposes.

This post takes on another challenge, one that was issued by blogger Colby Sharp on the Nerdy Book Club Blog last August. He put out a call for classroom teachers to consider a book they planned to read aloud within the first two weeks of school, the one they felt the most excited about sharing with their students. If you think that's another challenge I declined, you're right.

In workshops for teachers I share the advice of Pat Cunningham that an elementary teacher for any grade level should, ideally, have at least five read-alouds each and every day. YIKES! FIVE?
Yep. 

1. An excellent picture book (Demonstrates that little books have big ideas, validity, for readers of all ages.)
2. A poetry selection (Provides wide experiences with language, forms, authors, sources, and topics of poetry in only a few minutes a day.)
3. A chapter of a longer selection (Provides shared experiences with text of high quality, builds a common frame of reference, and allows modeling discussions and sustaining meaning over time.)
4. Two or more non-fiction passages related to content area topics (Introduces quality authors and titles for research and exploration of current studies.)

With that in mind, the first two weeks in my classroom often involve 40-50 or more titles, all of the highest quality, and each of which I'm excited to share.

HARPER (Harper Collins Imprint), 2013

And yet, despite my reluctance to name favorites among them, I feel compelled to feature a marvelous back-to-school title here that might be especially suited to your child or classroom situation. Mike Boldt wrote and illustrated 123 VERSUS ABC. On the title page "1" and "A" introduce themselves and their conflicting intents for this book- to create a book about numbers/a book about letters.

Using lively expressive features and stick figure body language along with speech bubbles and loads of personality, each  claims the turf of this book with reason, volume, and increasing assertiveness. 

When the rest of the cast gradually appears the arguments continue:

1-Alligator

2-Bears

3-Cars... and so on.

As the numbers and creatures and their various activities continue, near hysteria develops before "1" and "A" agree that it is a book about both, letters AND numbers. 

Until, on the  last page turn, a blob of red appears asking for the book about colors.

This recent release is a fine example of the POWER of picture books- 

Compact, Complete, Compelling.

It is appealing, invites close scrutiny, resolves a problem, begs for retelling, and entertains.

It also reveals subtexts in the visuals, and offers various approaches to conflict resolution- an important topic in the early weeks of school.

Greenwillow Books, 2012

This would be a perfect pairing with  Z IS FOR MOOSE, the 2012 alphabet picture book written by Kelly Bingham and illustrated by Paul O. Zelinsky. In a previous post I examined that title closely and interviewed Paul and Kelly about its creation.

In both cases older students can explore similarities and distinctions between the two titles: the tongue-in-cheek nod to ubiquitous alphabet (and number) books with iconic visual symbols, characters in conflict, the "all about me" attitudes displayed, and the story arcs created in each. 

One step further would include comparisons of art styles and design, facial expressions, and ways that action and movement are portrayed. (See what I meant about little books having big ideas for older readers, too, even alphabet books?)

Here's hoping that as plans are made for the start of another school year both of these titles will find their way into classrooms of every age, generating thoughtful discussion, mindful comparison, and, above all else, a love of books.

As always, your comments about favorites (back-to-school titles, alphabet and number books, or any other topic) are welcome.