BEING HOME: Finding Rhythms of Our Hearts

Traci Sorell and Michaela Goade have created a rich journey-to-the-heart tale with lyrical text and illustrations that are both joyous and intense. 

With resonant but minimal text, the rhythm of lives in an urban setting cannot feel like home. The people, noises, even the air itself feel invasive, constricting. Nature connections are absent. A move is planned. With heartfelt good-byes to beloved elements (tree, swing) the family drives away to restore the natural rhythms to their lives and home. 

Characters are ones in which readers from many cultures might see themselves. Specifically, though, this provides a vibrant look at a contemporary Native family and community. When so many young people today (and most of us old folk) conjure an image of leather and feathers when "Indian" or "Native" is mentioned, this is a superb book to showcase the reality of modern Native lives and relationships. Honoring traditional ways  and connections is valued in most cultures, and is shown to be at the heart of this familiy's life. 

The young narrator is also clearly an artist at heart and seeks inspiration in daily life as well as centuries-old patterns.

As I am unpacking from my second move in a little over a year, I find that  picture books on the topic of  MOVING are of special interest. This one is unique in the sense that it is not the moving that matters, but the destination. Make your library or bookstore your destination and check this one out soon. Then spark some conversations about which elements in life define "home for those in your own life.

and connections 

Today's the Day! MOVING ON!

 I've been working in advance to allow me to continue sharing reviews and reflections about picture books during the past and coming month. That's because of the many hours I've spent so far on MOVING from my long time home back to my home town. I'll be closer to family, reconnect with some long-ago friends, and make new ones, I hope.

Since today is "traveling day", I thought I'd share a version of a poem I wrote many years ago for my parents when they sold the house I/we siblings grew up in. It seems to resonate with many who've experienced ambivalence about stepping away from many years of memories and facing a future of new experiences. I hope you enjoy it. Comments on your own experiences, past and current, are always welcome, including suggestions for picture book recommendations on this topic for any/many ages.

Houses, Homes, and Changing Lives

I discontinued adding "Covid updates" or anchors to the content of my posts several months ago, mistakenly believing that readily available vaccines would lead the way out of this pandemic. Instead, we are facing rising positive Covid test numbers and hospitalizations for Covid Delta variants in unvaccinated folks that are again overwhelming our physical and human resources. The clock is ticking on the various economic support programs, including an end to the eviction moratorium looming in coming weeks. With so many uncertainties (and scary) circumstances surrounding kids, the prospect of moving is one more variable beyond their control. Or is it?

The current housing market indicates many kids/families will find themselves moving from the home they know to something else. In some cases that might be a "movin' on up" experience, but for many others it could be due to an eviction or job change/loss, or even involve time spent within temporary housing for unhomed folks, or foster settings. (If you missed it, please read my recent review of A KID IS A KID IS A KID, HERE.) Another review from last season strongly recommends THE BLUE HOUSE, by Phoebe Wahl. 

Candlewick, 2021

I mention these perspectives before sharing two picture books about families and homes that won my heart on first reading and then amped up that reaction on repeated readings. The first of these is THE HOUSE OF GRASS AND SKY, written by Mary Lyn Ray and illustrated buy E. B. Goodale. Narration adopts the perspective of "the house", while maintaining a knowing third person voice to explore the lived experiences of this house on a hill in the country. From its earliest fresh lumber smells to observing growing families,  the house learns words like "good-bye" and then "hello", until it sits empty for a surprisingly long time. The grass and sky and tire swing and blooms reliably remained. Seasons passed, but potential new family residents (with diverse identities and preferences) would come, discuss, then leave.

Rabbits waited to be chased, dandelions prepared to be wished on, and starry nights comforted the house through its bare windows. Until... one of those families returns. Restoring the home with caring attention and coats of paint indicate that, once again, the house, the hill, the sky will be the stage on which lives are lived and memories are made. I love that each prospective new owner-family is not the assumed "white" families often depicted in rural and renovation scenarios.

This perspective is both tender and persuasive, never suggesting that the house has its own "life", but rather that every house has a purpose in OUR lives. That purpose is to become a home.

BLUE DOT PRESS, 2021

Next up, author Margaret Wild and illustrator Ann James adopt an entirely different approach and perspective to the home-leaving, home-finding, home-making process. GOODBYE, OLD HOUSE shifts to the perspective of a canny and caring little character who is already owning their transition. The leaving process is revealed by lifting them off the impressionist-styled scenes to the forefront with a black-line-on-white, loosely drawn identity. This intentional child collects significant experiences for one last time: fishing, woodland runs, pony petting, and good-byes to each room and home-location. 

In each case, they convey a sense of peace about the departure; not joyful, but also not melancholy. 

Then, with the same deliberate, in-the-moment awareness of good-byes, they experience many "This is the first time..." "Hello" scenes in a new house-to-become-home. 

This is a story of a child who is able to make an empowered transition from a prior home to a new one, regardless of the reason for the move. It suggests that the geographic locations, physical properties, or particular details of the buildings themselves, HOUSES becoming HOMES depends on the embrace of their residents. The ability to do that, for children especially, is in direct proportion to preparation and attitude conveyed by their adult caregivers/family. 

This is a book that should be shared with/recommended to any adults who anticipate moving, for any reason. It is also a wonderful book for story time and story-sharing in libraries and classrooms. The child who inhabits this story is ambiguously gendered and aged, conveys familiar emotions that invite connection, and models an open and adventurous attitude while holding close the memories and experiences of their past. The art style itself allows young audiences to imagine themselves being overlaid on this experience of moving, viewing themselves as the constant and stabilizing factor in life changes. 

While there are no direct references to back-to-school, these two titles make a great lead-in to conversations about being "new", about saying "good-bye", and about seeking ways to connect those two things in meaningful activities and memories. 

Memories and Transitions: THE BLUE HOUSE

 Covid19 Anchor in Time:

The world is nearly a year into the unspecified date on which "patient one" unknowingly contracted the earliest case of Covid 19. Soon after, the spread began, the questions eventually arose, and specialists in contagious diseases began the long and puzzling journey that brings us to our "current" global count of nearly forty million positive diagnoses and more than a million deaths due to Covid. The ever-changing reports can be checked HERE. 

I mention this because, despite these tragic numbers, and even some gradually developing treatment and vaccine news, people continue to be evicted, to seek new dwellings, to put homes up for sale and buy new ones, to pack belongings and move possessions into the spaces previously occupied by others, by people who considered it their home. Especially in these uncertain times, how long does it take to make that new dwelling feel like YOUR home? And what, precisely, helps you turn the page to that new reality?

Homes are so much more than the structures in which we live. The final stanza of a poem I wrote when my parents moved from their longtime home makes this point:

"A house is just an empty stage

where families live and love and age.

The script is stored, each detailed page,

in the memories of the cast."  

(Sandy Brehl)

Alfred A. Knopf

THE BLUE HOUSE, written and illustrated by Phoebe Wahl, explores this question with incredibly tender insight and details. The front and back covers effectively lift this very specific blue house and this very special father-son pair (Leo and his dad) into a liminal white space that could represent any place, any time. The art there and throughout the book utilizes Wahl's characteristic and intentionally primitive style, infused with earthy colors and a very relatable charm. 

The polar opposite of this universality is revealed at the opening endpapers, which absorbed my attention for an extended time. The "blue house" is recognizable from the cover, but it lives on a very specific street corner of a very specific neighborhood, one in which every square foot is dense with quirky characteristics and personality, in which each seems to have countless stories to tell. There is a warmth and welcoming spirit to this opening, one that continues with every turn of the page.

The story is simple, and infused with emotions ranging from joy to pain to peace, and everything in between. With  hand-lettered, limited text and page after page of intriguingly detailed images, readers learn that the blue house is both dilapidated and a personal palace. Indoors and out, it is the stage on which Leo and his dad celebrate their love and the luxury of lives well-lived, deeply experienced in each moment. When harsh reality forces them to move, they experience "all the feels" together, emptying that old blue house of their lives. No spoiler here, except to praise expert storytelling that offers a departure scene that effectively foreshadows the eventual resolution scene. 

Ultimately, we all move on. That is true of physical circumstances, in our emotional lives, and in our relationships. Transitions take time. This simple story is a warmhearted reminder that we will survive change. We can and will, in fact, grow from transitions. What matters most is how we face change. The final endpapers offer a look at that opening neighborhood with some changes underway. There is enough continuity of familiar and comforting anchors to promise that change, over time, can lead us forward in life to something better, while retaining the best of what has gone before. 

As with the best picture books, this one entertains and appeals on its face. The underlying and powerful themes offer meat for discussion, but that isn't necessary. Even the youngest children will be adding it to their "read it again" stack, absorbing the themes with each repetition. The boy in the story is clearly an oder child but what entices and appeals is the core of the  story- the lively and loving and accepting daily life of this family.

This is one of the growing number of CYBILS AWARDS nominees in the fiction picture book category. Links to reviews of  more of the 100+ titles (so far), by me and the other panelists, can be found HERE. This is NOT going to be an easy decision, folks!