Spotlight
Showing posts with label Editor's Column. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Editor's Column. Show all posts

Heading Down the Homestretch






It's a joy to be featured in the latest issue of Interviewing the Caribbean, a wonderful journal published by The University of the West Indies Press. The two latest issues (Winter 2019 and Spring 2020) of the journal are dedicated to the theme 'Caribbean Childhood: Traumas and Triumphs.' Editors Opal Palmer Adisa and Juleus Ghunta have done an incredible job curating a rich gathering of voices bearing witness to a sacred part of our lives that⁠—as Floella Benjamin always says⁠—lasts forever: our childhoods.



A collective stock-taking of Caribbean childhoods like this is timely and overdue. In many places in the Caribbean, we don't talk about our childhoods nearly enough, yet we carry our childhoods within us always. At a moment in history when an unprecedented threat to humankind has plunged a lot of us into the interior life, repressed childhood traumas may be resurfacing for many. I'm not a psychologist (my bachelor's degree in psychology wasn't enough to convince me I could handle the pieties of the field) but as I share in my featured essay in Interviewing the Caribbean, "The Nature of Belonging: Making a Home for Children’s Literature in the Caribbean’s Literary Landscape," I know from personal experience that there's tremendous healing adults can access just from reading children's books. If you aren't the type of adult who reads children's books, now is a good time to change that.

In my essay I open up about the psychological homelessness (a term coined by social scientists to describe feelings of not belonging in one's home country) I experienced as a child/teen growing up in Trinidad and during my early years as a young immigrant in America. I reflect on how I discovered a healing sense of identity and belonging in (what at the time seemed like) unlikely places—nature and children's books. I also write about returning to Trinidad with a newfound understanding of what 'home' means and using this insight, through work with children's books, to help young people establish a sense of home in the world. The issue also includes an open "Letter to a Child Leaving Trinidad" that I wrote giving them the kind of advice I wish I'd been given when I was younger and about to take that big step.

Some of my most difficult life experiences are what motivate me to advocate for Caribbean children and youth and their need to see themselves reflected in all kinds of stories, whether it's books or movies or even songs. I think it's important though, that young people in the Caribbean know that they can't wait for 'those people/adults out there' to acknowledge them to start feeling seen; feeling seen and heard is something they can cultivate for and within themselves by telling their own stories and helping others do the same.

This is my last post on the Anansesem website for the foreseeable future. Later this month, on Anansesem's tenth anniversary (May 24), I'll be stepping down as editor-in-chief (as previously announced), but the privilege of helping Caribbean children and youth find their way home will always be a prime concern for me. When we think of our priorities as adults, nothing is more important than making sure the young people who look to us for guidance grow up with an expanded sense of possibility when it comes to their identities, dreams and thinking. No child should have to grow up feeling unseen, stifled, unworthy or like they don't belong. As adults we have to do the work to heal these traumas in ourselves so we can help the current generation of Caribbean children and youth do and feel better.



About the Author

Summer Edward is Anansesem's founder and editor-in-chief emeritus. Her writing and art have been published in various literary magazines and anthologies. Her first children's book will be published by HarperCollins UK in 2020. Her home on the web is www.summeredward.com.




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Celebrating 10: Great Ladies of Caribbean Children's Literature






Children's literature is a field that’s held my fascination for over a decade now (to tell the whole truth, I’ve been fascinated by children’s books since I was, well, a child reading them). I've loved delving into its history, and within arm’s reach of my desk I always keep a couple of texts I consider staples on craft and foundations: the classic Children and Books by Zena Sutherland; Gates of Excellence: On Reading and Writing Books for Children by Katherine Patterson (gifted to me years ago by a neighborhood friend I co-led a teen girls book club with); Joy Cowley’s Writing from the Heart: How to Write for Children (I had her sign it when I attended one of her Highlights Foundation workshops); The Potential of Picture Books: From Visual Literacy to Aesthetic Understanding by Barbara Kiefer (purchased for a course back in grad school and then couldn't bear to part with it); Charlotte Huck's Children's Literature: A Brief Guide by Barbara Kiefer and Cynthia Tyson (in which my “ten tips for selecting multicultural literature” appears); Bridges to Understanding: Envisioning the World through Children's Books by Linda M. Pavonetti (one of several books gifted to me by Rowman & Littlefield in return for peer-reviewing a proposal for a multicultural children’s literature textbook; it's a useful annotated bibliography sponsored by the USSBY); and Multicultural Children's Literature by Donna E. Norton. They're well-thumbed books that have traveled with me across oceans, surviving house moves and country moves, and they’re all written by women.

When it comes to the history of the field, the 'Great Lady of Children's Literature' tradition in the USA has been firmly established. The American women whose seminal work created and shaped the field as we know it are legends in the children's literature world and their contributions have been richly memorialized (see "New England Book Women: Their Increasing Influence" by way of example). Reading and learning about what they accomplished, and their strong quirky personalities, has inspired and instructed me over the years.

There's Anne Carroll Moore who, in the early 1900s, helped make libraries all over the world a welcoming place for children at a time when boys under 14 years old and girls of any age were forbidden to enter them, and whose set of standards for children's literature, "The Four Respects," still guides us. There’s Ursula K. Nordstrom, who did groundbreaking work during her run as editor-in-chief of juvenile books at Harper and Row from 1940 to 1973. Louise Seaman Bechtel was the first person to head a juvenile department at a major American publisher. Margaret K. McElderry was the first children's book editor to be given her own imprint (I'm putting it out in the universe that I want my own imprint one day, because hey, why not?). Caroline Hewins was an influential children's librarian responsible for instituting children's rooms at libraries. Bertha Mahoney was the founder of Horn Book Magazine, one of the field's most distinguished journals (in whose pages I've been honored to have my own writing on Caribbean children’s literature appear). There’s also Elinor Whitney Field, co-founder of Horn Book Magazine; Alice Jordan, who headed children's work at the Boston Public Library from 1902 to 1940; and Clara Whitehill, who opened Brooklyn's first children's public library in 1914, and was one of the first people to design children's rooms at libraries and train children's librarians.

These remarkable women were all white and American. Over a decade ago, during my graduate studies at the University of Pennsylvania, while taking a course on multicultural children’s literature taught by a wonderful professor named Dr. Susan Browne (the only black professor I had at UPenn), I also learned about American women of color whose contributions to children's literature were just as prolific and revolutionary. There’s Augusta Braxton Baker whose library work, advocacy and bibliographic studies from the 1930’s onward catalyzed the ongoing humanization of the image of black people in children's literature. There’s Dr. Henrietta Mays Smith, who was an early proponent of noisy, interactive children's libraries and advocated tirelessly for quality and diversity in children’s literature. Pura Belpré was the first Latinx librarian at the New York Public Library; she pioneered bilingual children's library programs and is the namesake of the prestigious Pura Belpré Award. Dr. Rudine Simms Bishops, still very much alive, has become known as the 'mother of multicultural children's literature' and her groundbreaking research and much-cited 'mirrors, windows, sliding glass doors' metaphor has virtually come to define the field. Virginia Hamilton, an African American woman, broke racial barriers by winning every major national and international prize for children's writing. My advisor at UPenn, the late great children’s literature scholar Lawrence Sipe, spoke as highly of these American women of color as he did about their white counterparts whose biographies are more widely known.

In every country, women have been at the forefront of every children's literature-related field, from children's publishing to children's librarianship to children's book-selling, and yet when they’re women of color, their work has too often been under-recognized to the point of being diminished and dismissed.

I find the stories of how all these legendary women made a life and an entire field out of their love and respect for children's books, and their devotion to the children who read them, deeply engrossing. As pioneering children's librarians, esteemed children's book reviewers, brilliant researchers, influential writers and tone-setting children's editors, these women found useful work for their hands and supported themselves financially during an era in history when women were expected to devote their lives entirely to domestic pursuits. They understood that work with children and books was both a profession and higher calling, and they gained respect for children’s literature at a time when many people and institutions didn’t take it seriously. The women listed above are inspirational, aspirational figures, to say the least.

The 'Great Lady of Children's Literature' tradition isn't just an American phenomenon though. In every country, women have been at the forefront of every children's literature-related field, from children's publishing to children's librarianship to children's book-selling, and yet when they’re women of color, their work has too often been under-recognized to the point of being diminished and dismissed. That's certainly been the case in the Caribbean. Well, at Anansesem, we’ve always tried to do our part to fix that.

As Anansesem celebrates our 10th anniversary, it's fitting then that we celebrate the trailblazers whose labors, writings, editorial work and foundational research created the still fledgling, but increasingly growing, field of Caribbean children's and young adult literature. Most of these Caribbean women of color you won't hear nearly enough about at Caribbean literary festivals and little has been written about most of them; yet, without their remarkable wayfinding, none of us working to elevate Caribbean literature for the young to the status it deserves would be where we are today, and anyone seeking to understand the trajectory and role of children's literature within Caribbean societies would have little material to work with. The names and contributions of these Caribbean women (all of whom are now in their swanky 60s or older!) deserve a place in the international 'Great Lady of Children's Literature' pantheon. As “minders of make-believe” (to borrow Leonard S. Marcus's term) they’ve set the stage for the cultural and commercial burgeoning of a distinctive Caribbean literature for the young.

That's why we're celebrating 10 of them during Women's History Month and as part of Anansesem's ongoing 10th anniversary celebrations. They are Dr. Cherrell Shelley-Robinson (Jamaica), Diane Browne (Jamaica), Franck Paul (Haiti), Hazel Campbell (Jamaica), Jessica Huntley (Guyana/the UK), Jocelyne Trouillot-Lévy (Haiti), Julie Morton (Trinidad and Tobago), Lucía Amelia Cabral (Cuba), Margarita Luciano López (Dominican Republic) and Tere Marichal-Lugo (Puerto Rico). Each week, we’ll post essays by (or about, in the case of those deceased) these Great Ladies of Caribbean Children's Literature looking back at their remarkable pioneering careers. We're beyond honored to be able to share their stories. Stay tuned!




About the Author

Summer Edward is the Editor-in-Chief here at Anansesem. Her writing and art have been published in various literary magazines and anthologies. Her home on the web is www.summeredward.com.




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17 Own Voices Picture Books About Caribbean Immigration






Back in 2018, Caribbean immigrant communities in the UK made international news headlines due to the Windrush Scandal, and this month they're in the news again for similar reasons. The debate, of course, is whether the Jamaicans, who have criminal records, deserve to be deported or not. What I'm fascinated by though, is the way the deportee-convicts are being interviewed, documentary-style, and being afforded so much air time by British journalists. So many of the British rags say that they're "following the stories" of the convicted offenders. Do Caribbean immigrants only deserve to have their stories "followed" by the media when there's controversy and deportation crackdowns involved? Why not follow the stories of immigrant communities all year round? Why not also follow the stories of those immigrants who aren't thieves and drug dealers?

It's so important to start teaching children, from a young age, to see immigrants as human, and the best way to do that is to share the stories of immigrants, as told by themselves...and not just the stories of injustice. Children's books can help readers of all ages to walk in the shoes of people from immigrant communities who, for the most part, are decent, honest, hard-working folk who just want to make a better life for themselves and their families. If your academic institution or library has a subscription to EBSCOhost Novelist, you can access this annotated bibliography I wrote for them in 2019 titled 'Caribbean Immigrants Tell Their Story: 17 Own Voices Picture Books': https://tinyurl.com/u7b28xk.




About the Author

Summer Edward is the Editor-in-Chief here at Anansesem. Her writing and art have been published in various literary magazines and anthologies. Her home on the web is www.summeredward.com.




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Anansesem's Caribbean Children's/YA Online Bookstore Launched







I'm pleased to share a project I’ve been working on for the past couple of months: Anansesem has just launched our new-and-improved Anansesem Online Bookstore, which can be found here. Amazon.com now has a monopoly on online book shopping worldwide and so we’ve chosen to partner with them through their Amazon Affiliate Program.

The Anansesem Online Bookstore is a carefully curated niche bookstore that marries the convenience and accessibility of Amazon.com with Anansesem’s trusted expertise in the Caribbean children's and young adult (YA) books marketplace. As editor-in-chief, I'm so accustomed to delegating, but the Anansesem Online Bookstore is my personal project and I think it's my favorite thing I've done in nine years of running the magazine.

The Anansesem Online Bookstore carries only ‘own voices’ books. These are high quality traditionally published children's and YA books, as well as self-published books of cultural interest. The bookstore carries books printed in Kreyòl, Spanish, French and English, many of which are bilingual books.

Read my recent guest post on The Brown Bookshelf website to learn more about the bookstore's offerings and the behind-the-scenes work that went into building it. And while you're on their website, check out their 28 Days Later Campaign which profiles the best new and unnoticed African-American children's and YA authors.


Click to browse the
Anansesem Online Bookstore



About the Author

Summer Edward is the Editor-in-Chief here at Anansesem. Her writing and art have been published in various literary magazines and anthologies. Her home on the web is www.summeredward.com.




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Introducing the Anansesem Starred Review (Giving Caribbean Books For Young People The Reviews They Deserve)




The following is the foreword to the May 2018 issue by Summer Edward, Anansesem's editor-in-chief.



Why Do Book Reviews Matter?

Putting together our May 2018 Special Issue devoted to book reviews made me think a lot about the function and state of the book review. Technologically-driven changes in reader habits, the end of book review sections in newspapers, and the frantic pace/massive scale of modern-day book production have caused many to declare the book review (and literary criticism more broadly) dead, but clearly, from both commercial and reader standpoints, there's still value to the work that book reviewers do.

On the most basic level, reviews help people discover and choose books. Booksellers and librarians rely on reviews to decide which books to stock their shelves with. Teachers read reviews to figure out which books to teach in the classroom. Parents and caregivers read reviews to decide if they'll buy a particular book for their child. Book reviews set the tone for how a book and its author are received by the reading public and industry gatekeepers alike. Reviews are publicized even before a book is published and they affect how many orders of the book are placed. A review can make or break a book.


What is a Starred Review?

Pre-publication, as a matter of course, authors and publishers send advanced review copies of books not only to reviewing websites like Allreaders.com and BookPage.com, but also to the everyday readers (known as "book bloggers") who review books on their blogs. Or they pay trusted and reputable reviewing services to review their books and wait with bated breath to see whether these reviewing services approve of, and thus recommend, the book or not.

Sometimes, for a very small percentage of books, recommendation comes in the form of a starred review—often simply called 'a Star'—considered one of the high watermarks of literary praise. A Star is a marker of the most exceptional books as determined by experienced industry professionals with extensive knowledge of publishing trends and deep critical appreciation of writing and (in the case of children's books) illustration. As a selling point, publishers are known to emblazon starred review blurbs on the covers of books. Understandably, starred books are typically the ones that get the best visual merchandising in bookstores and accrue the most prestige within literary culture. A starred review can even translate into more sales, particularly if a book has received multiple starred reviews.


The Problem with Book Reviewing Culture

  • Currently, the most influential (by industry standards) reviews of children's and young adult (CYA) books in the English-speaking world are done by a cadre of respected, authoritative children's/YA book review outlets in "First World" nations: CM: Canadian Review of Materials and Quill & Quire in Canada; Horn Book Magazine, School Library Journal, Booklist, Publisher's Weekly and The Bulletin of the Center for Children's Books in the USA; Reading Time in Australia; and Inis Magazine in Ireland. These outlets don't just review books written by authors in the countries where they are based; they also review books by authors from other English-speaking countries. Since their founding, the above-listed review outlets have reviewed a significant number of Caribbean CYA books.

  • Over the past few years, we've read and studied the reviews of Caribbean CYA books published by the above-listed review outlets and, in consultation with Anansesem's advisers and confirmed by the many Caribbean authors/readers of CYA books we've spoken to, we've determined conclusively that the aforementioned review outlets don't do an adequate job of reviewing Caribbean CYA books. Often, their reviews of Caribbean CYA books contain assessments, assumptions and oversights that are problematic to discerning Caribbean readers, and we've also detected frequent instances of cross-cultural insensitivity in the form of wording issues. These review outlets have too frequently endorsed, praised, and starred books depicting Caribbean communities, and written by non-Caribbean authors, that Caribbean people ourselves find highly problematic from a socio-cultural or linguistic standpoint. We understand that historically, these reviews of Caribbean CYA books have been written by cultural outsiders, and so understandably, the reviews are often marred by limitations of knowledge, insight and cultural sensitivity regarding the nuances, urgencies, idiosyncracies and significations of Caribbean lived experience.

  • The very nature of literary criticism is that a critic has the right to write whatever they want about a book, however the huge power imbalance in CYA book reviewing means that historically privileged groups have long been able to dominate, and thus control, critical responses to literature by or depicting marginalized groups. The fact is that the cadre of respected review outlets listed above, from a position of "First World" dominance, exert far-reaching influence on global literary culture and the reading public. Because of their stature, their reviews of Caribbean CYA books, however problematic, are likely to be seen as credible and authoritative, even indisputable. One of the many ways cultural and racial bias manifests in CYA literature is the normalization of, and deference to critical work done, and literary gold standards set, by historically privileged groups.

  • We, along with many others, have noted the serious problems associated with this power imbalance in book reviewing. The inability (or unwillingness) of reviewers from historically privileged groups to detect, call out, and effectively comment on culturally offensive, racist, xenophobic, colonialist stereotypes and narratives (in books) that negatively affect historically disadvantaged groups has been long discussed all over the Internet and in various other fora. Literature is a powerful force in society, and critics/reviewers must be called to task for the role they play in popularizing and normalizing books that misrepresent, or deny the humanity of, marginalized peoples.


Why We're Introducing the Anansesem Starred Review

  • Nathan Heller argues in The New Yorker that book reviewing must remain a personal enterprise, that book reviewers should have the "critical autonomy" to make sense of a literary work however they want to...even if it means ignoring the dimensions of the work that are problematic for, or harmful to, historically marginalized communities. As Caribbean readers and critics, we understand this critical autonomy to belong as fully to us as to anyone else. So, we have the right to give a "bad review" of reviews and reviewers that do a disservice to our humanity, or that further marginalize us. We have the added assurance of knowing that the Caribbean literary critic is a far superior reader of Caribbean experience than the "First World" critic in a far-off metropolis, who operates from behind the smokescreen of personal autonomy.

    Anansesem's editors, along with the many Caribbean authors and academics who have advised us over the years, believe local (i.e., stemming from within Caribbean communities) control of literary criticism matters exceedingly for the advancement of Caribbean CYA literature. Clearly, book reviews that do an adequate job of contextualizing the lives and cultures of marginalized groups, and engaging with the unique historical-cultural-political concerns of these same groups, are essential in order for the reading public to appreciate and understand the stories, voices and points of view of historically marginalized communities, as inscribed in books. Culturally-grounded reviews will help move Caribbean CYA literature forward by giving readers better, more nuanced, culturally authoritative information to help them discover, choose and think critically about CYA books that depict Caribbean places and people. Critical standards set by a respected Caribbean professional authority are also essential in order to put Caribbean CYA literature on its own pedestal. Caribbean CYA authors and illustrators should be able to rely on our own systems of literary merit for one of the most recognizable markers of literary distinction— the starred review.


Who Determines Whether a Book Earns the Anansesem Star?

  • We guarantee that every book reviewed in Anansesem will be read and assessed by qualified Caribbean book reviewers (i.e., CYA book industry/literature professionals) and editors whose identity, knowledge and concerns are shaped by and grounded in Caribbean experience. Our culturally qualified editors and reviewers will work closely together to decide if a book will receive a Star, but the final decision will rest with our editors. Books of all genres will be eligible for the Anansesem Star.


Our first ever set of starred reviews has been announced in our May 2018 issue here. Below are official images of the Anansesem Star that publishers and authors can download and use on their websites (Note: the different colors do not represent different levels of merit; we've simply provided different designs to choose from.) We are excited about this next stage in Anansesem's evolution and welcome feedback as always.










About the Author

Summer Edward is the Editor-in-Chief here at Anansesem. Her writing and art have been published in various literary magazines and anthologies. Her home on the web is www.summeredward.com.




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[Book List] Caribbean Carnival in Books for Children




Illustration by Frané Lessac from DRUMMER BOY OF JOHN JOHN by Mark Greenwood

It's carnival season! Carnival, along with steel pan music, the traditional music of carnival, is one of the things our region is famous for. Although different islands have different carnival origin stories, carnival is a festival with both African and European origins.
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[Book List] Back to School After an Environmental Disaster: Teaching Hurricane Irma

Illustration by Tim Clarey from HURRICANE by Verna Allette Wilkins
Earlier this week, we woke up to the news of the huge damages suffered by many Caribbean islands due to Hurricane Irma. Early this morning, I reached out to Carmen (one of our Associate Editors) to see how she'd fared over in Puerto Rico and thankfully she and her family are safe and haven't suffered any major losses. Particularly heart-wrenching are the first images of the devastation in Barbuda where it's reported that 90% of the homes are damaged and 50% of the population is now homeless. In the wake of Irma, the island was unreachable for a few hours— inconceivable in this day and age.
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Abundant, Not Redundant: Caribbean Kid Lit Wish List



Illustration by Sabra Field from WHERE DO THEY GO? by Julia Alvarez


I'm not one to focus on lack. Part of it is temperamental, part of it is having been raised on a solid Judeo-Christian diet of contentment. It's just makes me happier (and more productive) to focus on abundance.

As Editor-in-Chief of a Caribbean children's lit. ezine, one does a lot of reading, both the children's books themselves and what's been written about the books. I've been able to observe trends, to notice the themes and narratives that are redundant abundant in Caribbean kid lit, and also what's missing. I'm always getting requests from parents and teachers looking for Caribbean children's books on specific themes and subjects, and while I try my best, often there just aren't enough (or any) books to recommend within a specific topic area.

Recently I was doodling in a notepad and found myself making a wish list of themes we really need to see more of in Caribbean children's lit. I share the list below; it could certainly be useful for publishers (and writers too perhaps) who want to publish children's books featuring Caribbean people and settings.

In traditional publishing, Caribbean children's books are often marketed as "multicultural literature" which tends to limit the scope of topics to the "Four F's"- folklore, foods, festivals and fashion. It would be great if publishers could focus on a new set of "Fs" when they're choosing which Caribbean children's stories to publish: fun, family, faith, friendship, funny. Centering these themes would help normalize Caribbean children and people, and the books would absolutely be just as Caribbean.

I'm not saying that we completely throw out "Four F's" books (we need a wider range of "Festival" books for example; it's still hard to find a children's book about Caribbean people celebrating Divali or Holi) or books that make a point of celebrating diversity in favor of what Betsy Bird called "casual diversity". That would be problematic too. I'm definitely not saying that Caribbean children's books should somehow be culture-free (if that were even possible; if a writer's culture didn't automatically show up in their writing I'd question whether or not they were truly inhabiting their work). Quite the opposite. What I'm saying is that it's time to expand the range of culturally authentic literature that's available so that Caribbean children can see themselves, and their interests and concerns, humanely reflected in a range of narratives.

In Caribbean children's literature, we don't see nearly enough of, and could definitely do with more...

1) Books with fostering and adoption themes
2) Biographies of important Caribbean figures (Picturebook and longer formats)
3) Books with male characters (Dads/uncles/grandfathers anyone?)
4) Books set in urban and suburban areas (Because ya know, we have cities and towns in the Caribbean too.)
5) Historical fiction (The ancient Caribbean anyone?)
6) Speculative fiction (Fantasy, sci-fi etc.)
7) Bedtime books
8) Alphabet and counting books
9) Board books (There are only a handful.)
10) Humor (This is children's lit. after all!)
11) Books about first-experiences (First day of school, first doctor's visit etc.)
12) Poetry
13) Books about emotions
14) Anthropomorphic characters (Caribbean-endemic animals specifically)
15) Science and social studies books/Nonfiction in general
16) Books that explore disability and illness (There are hardly any.)
17) Books about nature (Beyond tired "Caribbean sun, sea and sand" tropes)
18) Subject-interest books (Books about music, hobbies, art, sports, buildings, etc.)
19) Graphic novels
20) Interactive books
21) Books with religious themes
22) Books with social justice themes
23) Books about communities and neighborhoods
24) Books about bullying (A rampant problem in many Caribbean schools)
25) Books with LGBTQ characters
26) Books about bereavement
27) Books exploring mental health issues
28) Books about gender and gender equality
29) Mixed race representation
30) Books about divorce and family conflict
31) Books about environmental issues and taking care of the environment
32) Books about children or people who are "different"
33) Concept books
34) Books about children using their imagination
35) Books about Caribbean children doing wonderful, inspiring things and saving the day
36) Books about playtime and games
37) Protagonists and characters who aren't Afro-Caribbean (There are Indo-, Chinese, White, Syrian etc. Caribbean people too.)
38) Protagonists and characters who are middle-class and upper-class

Should anything else be added to this list? Leave a comment below.


About the Author

Summer Edward is the Editor-in-Chief here at Anansesem. Her writing and art have been published in various literary magazines and anthologies. Her home on the web is www.summeredward.com.




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Emancipating Caribbean Literature for Children



Illustration by Mark Greenwood from DRUMMER BOY OF JOHN JOHN by Frané Lessac


The following is a resurrection of a blog post published by our Editor-in-Chief a few years ago on her now defunct blog.


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August 1st is Emancipation Day in my homeland of Trinidad and Tobago. The annual observance is celebrated on the anniversary of the passing of the Emancipation Bill that ended chattel slavery in what was then the British Empire. On August 1st, 1985, Trinidad and Tobago became the first country in the world to declare a national holiday to commemorate the abolition of slavery.

One hundred and seventy-nine years have passed since the Emancipation Bill came into effect on August 1st, 1838. By comparison, 37 years have passed since the great Robert Nesta Marley, echoing the sentiments of the Jamaican Pan-Africanist orator, Marcus Garvey, penned the famous line of his 'Redemption Song':
Emancipate yourself from mental slavery,
none but ourselves can free our minds.
As I think about what Emancipation Day means to the people of the Caribbean, I cannot help but also think of what the observance means to me as a person and as a writer. As for any writer, the two things are intricately connected; I wouldn't be myself if I couldn't write.

And what kind of person-writer do I strive to be? I'm intent on being a writer who can write about my people, for my people. I seek to write from a secure identity, knowing that my voice is just as important, just as valid as other voices in the world. I want to be free to write with a clear head, with a clear conscience, knowing that I am not telling lies, or pandering to the white women who dominate publishing, but writing about what I know. I want to be free to judge my work by a standard of value and authenticity determined by myself and Caribbean people, by those who understand and are sympathetic to my reality, not by a foreign publishing world deaf and blind to my lived experiences and concerns.

I want to write knowing that as a Caribbean person, I am free to "talk my talk" on paper, in poetry, in song, in craft, in readings, in gatherings of writers. I want to be free from the voices that tell me I will never be a successful, widely-read children's author because Caribbean children's books simply don't sell. I want to be free from that insidious conditioning that tells me that children's books by foreign authors are automatically of a higher literary quality and should secure my consumption and respect, while children's books written by Caribbean people gather dust on the bottom shelves of bookstores and history.

Free us from these big, bad myths.

When I reflect on why Caribbean children's literature means so much to me, I think about the huge responsibility laid on the shoulders of the Caribbean children's/YA writer/publisher. Ours is the burden of unsilencing voices, putting names to anonymity, reconditioning mindsets that are formed from the cradle. Ours is the burden of emancipating Caribbean literature for young people from literary models passed down to us from colonial headmasters and embracing instead models of our own making. We are tasked with using stories to help Caribbean children question dominant ideologies, love themselves and know their worth.

The more one thinks about the possibility of Caribbean children's literature being something that can be "enslaved" the more it makes sense, since the literature of any people is a product of that people's lived experiences in a particular social, economic, political, and historical context. From the de-legitimatizing of our nation languages to the necessity of relying on foreign publishing houses to publish our books, to the ingrained attitudes that keep Caribbean people from bringing certain conversations (like the region's rampant adultism for example) to the forefront of Caribbean society, Caribbean children's writers have historically faced barriers on every side, barriers that have made it that much harder for us to use our voices and experiment as freely as we would like to.

Yet we have persisted. We have pushed through. Somehow, we have carried on.

Today, as I celebrate Emancipation Day, my status as a dual Trinbagonian-American citizen reminds me that I am part of a generation of Caribbean writers who have found it easier to blossom outside of the region I call home. In many ways, going back and forth between Trinidad and the USA has afforded me a certain kind of freedom, has emancipated me from certain concerns. But I am also reminded of my responsibility to give back, to use whatever visibility and access I gain as someone with American ties to raise awareness of the difficulties that Caribbean young people and Caribbean children's writers face. And also, to raise awareness of all that Caribbean people celebrate and are proud of. I am thankful for the lessons and points of view that come with being able to stand on the outside looking in.

And as I think about emancipating myself from my own (and my parents') history of colonial schooling, my own history of not being able to find myself and my experiences reflected in the books I read as a child, Jamaican poet, Olive Senior's indelible poem, Colonial Girl's School comes to mind:


Colonial Girl's School

Borrowed images
willed our skins pale
muffled our laughter
lowered our voices
let out our hems
dekinked our hair
denied our sex in gym tunics and bloomers
harnessed our voices to madrigals
and genteel airs
yoked our minds to declensions in Latin
and the language of Shakespeare

Told us nothing about our selves
There was nothing at all

How those pale northern eyes and
aristocratic whispers once erased us
how our loudness, our laughter
debased us.

There was nothing left of ourselves
Nothing about us at all

Studying: History Ancient and Modern
Kings and Queens of England
Steppes of Russia
Wheat fields of Canada

There was nothing of our landscape there
Nothing about us at all

Marcus Garvey turned twice in grave.
Thirty-eight was a beacon. A flame.
They were talking of a desegregration
In Little Rock, Arkansas, Lumumba
and the Congo. To us mumbo-jumbo.
We had read Vachel Lindsay's
vision of the jungle.

Finding nothing about us there
There was nothing about us at all

Months, years, a childhood memorising
Latin declensions
(For our language ­'bad talking' detentions)
Finding nothing about us there
Nothing about us at all

So, friend of my childhood years
One day we'll talk about
How the mirror broke
Who kissed us awake
Who let Anansi from his bag

For isn't it strange how
northern eyes
in the brighter world before us now

Pale?



About the Author

Summer Edward is the Editor-in-Chief here at Anansesem. Her writing and art have been published in various literary magazines and anthologies. Her home on the web is www.summeredward.com.




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[Word from the Editor] What’s Important to Us? -The Value of Books, Libraries and Kid Lit in Caribbean Societies


Word from the Editor
Summer Edward



Today is World Values Day, an opportunity for us to think about our most deeply held values and to act on them. Earlier this year, the Caribbean Research Empowerment Network- CREN (a project of The University of the West Indies Family Development Centre) interviewed us for their Advocacy Works! Spotlight and asked us to articulate our mission. That interview gave me a chance to think about the values underlying Anansesem, both our online forum and our literacy advocacy work.

The World Values Day website states:
Values are what make us who we are. They are the compass guiding everything we do – our choices and our actions. When we forget that compass, we take the wrong turn. It’s the same for our families, for our communities, for the world. Our values show us the way. If we are aware of our values and put them into action each and every day, we can change our lives and change the world we live in.


It’s made me think...so what's our compass here at Anansesem? How do we support the growth of a values-driven children’s literature community that responds to what Jamaican-American poet and activist June Jordan called the “urgencies” of today’s Caribbean societies? It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a long time and that I continue to think about.

We’ve all heard the bankrupt talk about the erosion of values in Caribbean societies. The idea that Caribbean people don’t care about things like reading and literary issues gets a lot of limelight, but my personal experience has shown me otherwise. The many teachers, parents, booksellers and librarians I’ve talked to over the years care deeply about the types of books children are reading. They are very concerned about the fact that Caribbean children too often don’t see themselves reflected in the very important stories of childhood.

Readers of our ezine care about things like young people’s access to quality literature, children’s literacy development and making culturally-responsive education the norm for future generations.

To characterize our societies as non-literate and static is to veil and dismiss the efforts of the many who have worked in the trenches to make cultural/literary enrichment available to young people, and to ensure that Caribbean children see healthy images of their cultures reflected in the mirror of books and other media. Not only that; when we “talk down” our literacies and our literary development, we tend to delegitimize the very real hunger that Caribbean children and youth have for books and set up harmful self-fulfilling prophecies that block young people from reaping the full benefits of a literate life.

If our values are the compass that guide us, then our compass has four main "directions". Here are the four foundational values underlying our magazine.



1. Books and Reading

Here at Anansesem, we insist on the personal, social and cultural value of reading for Caribbean young people and their families. The benefits of reading for children are well-documented. Reading opens minds and doors. Reading teaches children the importance and power of language, enhances concentration and discipline, builds vocabulary, stimulates cognitive development and boosts academic achievement. As children's book editor Janet Schulman once said, books "help give children a leg up on the ladder of life."

We affirm the educational and communal value of the read-aloud experience in individual and group sessions, something that is backed by extensive research. Read-alouds promote literacy growth, build enthusiasm for reading, help children become lifelong readers, strengthen child-caregiver relationships, teach children how to have accountable conversations about books, and help create reading communities where children can learn from each other and have positive bonding experiences.

When we read picturebooks in particular, we enhance children’s visual literacy and teach them about the power of the image to render the visible world.

We believe in the consoling power of books and of the reading process itself; books have the power to reach vulnerable youth and help them cope with mental, physical, emotional, or social challenges.

We insist on the right of children and adolescents to be bookworms and to read whatever they like (within healthy limits). Let children and young people read.



2. Libraries

We insist on the value of libraries as free and safe spaces that help children and youth prepare for school and for life. We insist on the necessity of thriving libraries in Caribbean schools and communities— libraries that evolve, innovate and meet patrons where they are through outreach.

For young people, libraries are creative spaces and the cornerstone of free access to information. Libraries are purveyors of knowledge in democractic societies. They provide critical community assets through stories and resource preservation. Importantly, we assert the value of libraries as cultural heritage institutions- sites for the production, dissemination and acquisition of cultural capital.

We insist on the right of children and adolescents to be avid and respected library patrons.



3. Children's Literature

It's probably obvious that we insist on the importance of children’s literature, but what exactly is it about children's literature that makes us passionate about it?

Children’s literature is important because it bestows upon children the currency of lifelong happiness— a childhood filled with joy, laughter and imagination. As Trinidad-born children’s author Floella Benjamin often says, “childhood lasts a lifetime.”

Children’s literature is important because it provides young people with opportunities to respond to literature in ways that build cognitive functions such as the ability to think critically, form their own opinions, express themselves through language, and summarize information.

Children’s literature is important because it helps young people (as well as the adults who read to them) appreciate their own cultural heritage as well as those of others. Books are “mirrors” and “windows” in which children can see their own cultural realities reflected, or “peek into” other cultures. Developing positive attitudes toward our own culture and the cultures of others fosters self-pride, empathy and cross-cultural competency, and promotes overall personal and social development.

Children’s literature is important because it helps young people develop emotional intelligence. Stories have the power to promote emotional and moral development and help develop children’s personality and social skills.

Children’s literature is important because stories expand the imagination, nurturing growth and development of children's creativity.

Children’s literature must be valued because it transmits important literary work, traditions and themes from one generation to the next.

We especially insist on the value of culturally-relevant and culturally-authentic children's literature., i.e., “children’s books that reference Caribbean children’s own physical likenesses, beliefs, and immediate everyday experiences. Such literature provides the crucial mirror or cultural reflection that children need in order to work out their value in society, see where they fit in, and develop a positive self-concept. Studies have shown that reading culturally-relevant literature: helps children better understand and engage more deeply with texts; successfully prepares young people for active citizenry in a democratic society; enhances young learners’ confidence and critical thinking skills; preserves and extends local traditions in an educational context; and builds children’s reading and writing proficiency.” [1]

We insist on what Clementine Beauvais, a Cambridge University PhD in children's literature, calls a “committed children’s literature”. A committed children’s literature challenges the status quo, is usefully subversive and encourages children to envision and enact change.



4. Children’s Publishing

We recognize the importance of being producers and not just consumers of books. We affirm the value of independent-publishing, community-based publishing, self-publishing and other creative approaches to publishing for the production of culturally-authentic children’s books.

We recognize the long and distinguished history of self-publishing in general, and in particular, in Caribbean societies and other societies marginalized by “mainstream” publishing. We affirm the value of many approaches to publishing children’s books as a way to counter the discrimination inherent in “mainstream” publishing.

We insist on the cultural and societal value of the children’s author and the children’s illustrator whether they are based in the Caribbean or nationals residing abroad.

We value the efforts of everyone involved in the development and production of Caribbean children’s books, and insist on their right to respect and renumeration. We insist on the children’s writer’s right to work, and we affirm the importance of funding and other supports for the work of the children’s writer.

We insist on the value of children’s writers speaking from their own personal and cultural perspectives without censorship.



I’ll leave you with these words from the World Values Day Guide:

If we don’t live our values to the full in our lives, then the communities we live in won’t live those values either. If our communities don’t reflect our values, then the wider world won’t reflect either. And so it won’t be a world we want to live in, where we can be fulfilled and happy.

To change the world for the better, we have to change the behaviours that currently make our world go round. And the only way to do that is for all of us to live our own values to the full.


Take good care,

Summer Edward
Foundress and Managing Editor



References

[1] Quote from “Cultural Authenticity in the Emerging Caribbean Picturebook Aesthetic” by Summer Edward (essay in sx salon.)

Do you share our values? Then don't forget to share this page!


About the Author

Summer Edward is the Editor-in-Chief here at Anansesem. Her writing and art have been published in various literary magazines and anthologies. Her home on the web is www.summeredward.com.




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