THE BLUE HOUSE I LOVED; Coming Soon!

University of Minnesota Press, 2026

 In less than a month a new picture book will release and it is worth pre-ordering, in my opinion. (Thank you to University of Minnesota press for an advance copy to read with no promise of a review). THE BLUE HOUSE I LOVE is written by Kao Kalia Yang and illustrated by Jen Shin. The narrative text adopts a look-back, first person voice, capturing the child point-of-view within a reflective account of a time of struggle and poverty that was nevertheless rich with family love, security, and joy.

The cover suggests the approach in voice and in illustration that hints at a misty/memory quality blended with architectural accuracy and detail. Readers will sense that from the title page in which crisp-line border that suggests features the drawing tools used to achieve the precision of blueprints.

Both narrative elements (naming the corner street location in St. Paul, and the build-date and history of this blue house) and illustration technique combine emotional resonance and family resilience with structural elements as if the building had been sliced to provide a view though the fourth wall. This Blue House was the source from which the Hmong family found refuge and stability, the footing on which to launch independence and progress. Within those exposed walls were the aspects of life that offered comfort from minimal means, including a splash of color in the rug. 

Without revealing a spoiler, things change. Even so, memories remain. Within those memories the narrator finds herself reliving and always remembering life in the BLUE HOUSE she loved. 

This is not only a lovely reminiscence of a childhood that certainly involved struggle but was wrapped in a sense of home and family and security. I connected with that entirely, even though my family's immigration story was several generations before I was born, and our struggles did not involve the social pressures faced by those adapting to new languages and cultures. Even so, my first memories of a childhood home involve specific architectural elements shared with the BLUE HOUSE (the single bathroom shared by many, the back porch where life unfolded), and the time spent with extended family, playing on the concrete basement floors, and more. 

For anyone who teaches or encourages writing from personal experiences and small moments, this is ideal mentor text to read and discuss. It's also a rich and robust view of a Hmong family living specific to its culture but also typical of many families, immigrant or not. There are far too few picture books (or novels) that center universal experiences from points of view beyond Black or White. (And too few from Black perspectives, too. Click here to see data.) When a picture book of this quality and rarity does appear on the scene, encourage friends, librarians, teachers, and readers to discover and enjoy it! 

The One With the Scraggly Beard- Worthy of Our Attention

 

ORCA Book Publishers, 2020

THE ONE WITH THE SCRAGGLY BEARD is written by Elizabeth Withey and illustrated by Lynn Scurfield.

It's recent, but not brand new, and the issue that it explores is centuries old. This is a lovely and lyrical book with everything to offer on its own, but reading the back matter elevates it to one that is unforgettable. 

A young boy notices (don't all children notice what adults often overlook?) a man with a scraggly beard who lives under the turquoise bridge. "Notice" naturally leads to questions, and the mother in this story answers them realistically and gently. The boy sees himself in that man- forgetting to brush his teeth or comb his hair, wearing cool things, loving hamburgers, being afraid of the dark. His questions lead to the most challenging one: 

Will I live under a bridge when I grow up?

Does anyone list what they want to be when they group as "Unhoused"? Certainly not. Again, that author note in back reveals how the author came to such a tender awareness of the human being under the soiled clothing or unconventional life patterns. 

This is not in the least preachy or didactic or intrusive. The end pages of pastel swirling turquoise indicate the tone to come. Ambiguity. Calmness. Openness to reality without judgment. The mother's ongoing engagement (with her son's questions and with the scraggly-bearded man) and the matter-of-fact but heartwarming illustrations offer up a very personal perspective on folks without homes as real individuals- someone's relative, friend, teacher, humans, who love others and are loved by them.

When I first read this book a few years ago, there was an item in the news about a younger man who recognized, once he looked, that the older man sleeping in his car  on the street he passed each morning was a former (beloved) teacher. The "feel good" news story that resulted is a wonderful anecdote. This book provides a more universal, even more personal insight into those who are unhoused. Not all issues resolve the way others intend, on either side of the meeting.

No-one grows up wanting or planning to live such a life, and yet it happens. Each unhoused person matters. To those in their lives, and to all of us. People find themselves in such circumstances for many reasons, some of which include mental illness but MOST of which involve financial struggles. Pope Francis will be prayed for and honored today at his funeral. When he was first selected as Pope, a family mansion in the Vatican, had been donated the Church many years before. It was scheduled to be developed as a luxury hotel, providing a source of great income to the Church. Pope Francis declared that those plans should end, that it was an ideal location to serve the homeless and hungry right in their midst. His plan proceeded and now:

"It can accommodate up to 50 men and women, housed in 16 rooms with two or three beds each. There are 13 new bathrooms, each equipped with a shower. Hot meals are served twice a day. The shelter also provides medical assistance and psychological counseling for alcoholism. Guests are not given a deadline to leave." (Excerpted from NPR program linked here- it is only 3 minutes long)

Poverty and isolation are not issues limited to any one country or language or national condition. It is a human state that could, under the right circumstances, affect any one of us. Until we can all see ourselves under that bridge or pushing that cart or otherwise struggling for dignity, it will remain a problem. With open hearts and open eyes we might all see these folks as young children do, and as Pope Francis did.