The Schmutzy Family, by Madelyn Rosenburg

 After I read it to two neeflings, plotted to read it to two more, and put it on my own to-buy list, I decided that it was probably time to review this book.

The Schmutzy family (from a Yiddish word meaning "dirty") has no concern at all about getting their clothing, house, and selves dirty five and a half days a week. Mom says nothing about most of the messes and even helps stop up the sink when it's time to start a frog habitat. On Friday around midmorning, however, she calls a halt to all that and they clean up for Shabbat. Utterly charming, delightful, and most of all AMAZING at helping kids learn that keeping a few rules doesn't have to make you boring or mean. Reading it even helped me be a little more cheerful about my own Saturday-afternoon cleanup efforts.

El Deafo, by Cece Bell

 

I learned about this book because I went to an author event set up by my public library-- and I got to see and hear Cece Bell speak. She was/is amazing! She ended up losing 90% of her hearing when she was a toddler, and El Deafo describes a fictionalized version of her life from that time until she was in late elementary school. I mean, the characters are rabbits. Clearly it's fictionalized. But I feel like it offers an emotionally safe way for younger persons to consider what it might really be like to be deaf, mostly because the reader gets so caught up in Cece's world that it becomes easy to identify with her. On top of that, she mentioned* how she hopes it will help kids who feel... different... like their lives could turn out OK. I'm not a kid, and I still feel like it left me with this message.

*I'm paraphrasing what I remember from an event several years ago. Please don't be mad at me, Cece Bell, (if you see this) if I got your words wrong! (But do please email me, because I want to get it right.)

Gamayun Tales, by Alexander Utkin

 Graphic novels "based on traditional Russian folklore." Exciting, fast-paced, not too gory or overtly sexual for my extremely tame tastes. Has bad guys, but none that are so bad that they automatically deserve to die just from their category. If you find folk tales satisfying, you will find these satisfying. I only checked out the first three in the series (The King of the Birds, The Water Spirit, and Tyna of the Lake) but plan on getting more as soon as there is room on my library card :). These are also going on my to-buy list.

The Flying Witch

 Jane Yolen, legend of storytelling for extremely good reason, did not disappoint as she added to the already-established genre of Baba Yaga tales. I loved that the little heroine was clever, and I loved that her dad literally saved her with his turnip truck. It's a picture book. It's a quick read. And it's going on my to-buy list.

Joanne B. Freeman's Yale Free Online American Revolution Course

One of my VERY favorite new listening experiences in the past month has been the discovery of Joanne Freeman. I spend a fair amount of time longing to BE Joanne Freeman at this point, while steadfastly reminding myself of the Oscar Wilde quote that one of the speakers used at my college graduation: "Be yourself. Everyone else is already taken," and yes, that includes the estimable Ms. Freeman. Darn it.

Why is she so awesome? I could just tell you that she's funny, smart, enthusiastic and cheerful, and I would not be lying. But instead I'm going to quote my best Joanne Freeman story about herself. Actually, it's the only story I've ever heard her tell about herself, and she does not tell it in the online lecture course-- she told it at another online event. (I have yet to be disappointed with any of these, BTW.) So, when she was fourteen, it was the bicentennial of the United States, and she being the geeky teenager she was, was reading through the biographies of the founding fathers. But when she got to Alexander Hamilton's biography, she found it unsatisfying, so she asked for a recommendation from her public librarian. The public librarian pointed her to the 27-volume set of Alexander Hamilton's collected correspondence, and she proceeded to read it through the way I read scriptures: once you finish one read, you have to go back for another immediately.

You will perhaps see why it was not surprising that she ended up with a PhD in history, teaching at one of the oldest/best institutions in the country. I think that my favorite part of her really is her delight. She always seems to be genuinely happy to be talking to students, or audiences; she loves to answer questions; she chortles when she brings in a great story or especially wonderful primary source document. I'm not quite sure if it's because of a) genetics, b) gratitude that she got to study and now teach something she genuinely loves, c) the fact that her subject area is a time of history when people REALLY thought things might not work out, and then they pretty much did for the next 200 years, or d) upbringing-- but whatever it is, I find her extreme cheer to be one of the most cheering things I have encountered in a long time.

The Girl From The Tar Paper School

Barbara Rose Johns was a Black high school student compelled to attend classes in a truly inadequate physical building: the roof leaked and the rooms were cold in the winter and hot in the summer, and the reason for this is because the walls were, for pity's sake, made of tar paper. (You know, tar paper? The stuff you use on a roof underneath the shingles, or perhaps for a temporary shelter?)

The local school board kept promising that they would build a facility for the Black children that even remotely came close to the brick building which had been serving White children for several years, but nothing ever came of that.

Barbara was a serious student, and this situation bothered her. She was also religious, and so she prayed about what she should do. And that is why, without notifying or in any way involving any adult whatsoever, she organized a walkout of all of the students in her high school. "They can't throw us all in jail," she reasoned.

She wasn't a rabble rouser. She went on, in fact, to become a public librarian. But she had to do something, and she did what it took.

The case that was started on her behalf became part of the class-action lawsuit I grew up knowing as Brown v. Board of Education. She is one of my heroes.

(Also, this book does a fantastic job of telling the story through words and pictures. Highly recommended.)

Netflix's Lost in Space

So, I baaaarely remember a tiny part of exactly one episode of a rerun of the original series. And I didn't see the movie remake from a few years ago, so when I was excitedly telling N about this series, and she said, "You don't watch Lost in Space for the plot," I said, "Ummmm...."

That said-- and with the caveat that the only thing I know about the other two iterations is what I learned from reading about them on Wikipedia-- this one is worth the watch. Tension-filled, heartwarming-- but also incredibly family-centric, with stupid (or foolhardy) decisions actually playing out the way stupid decisions are likely to. And all this is done without the whole thing feeling like a morality play, which is why people sometimes shy away from that kind of realism.

I'm the sort of bear who will fast-forward when there's too much suspense, so I probably missed about half of the first episode. Afterwards, I was talking to a friend who suggested I just mute the sound next time, so, while I didn't go back, I have seen much more of the rest of Season 1 and the first part of Season 2. Since Season 1 ended on a cliffhanger and they have no incentive not to do that for Season 2, I've been waiting to finish Season 2 until 3 was out.

Hmm. I only remembered one curse word in the whole series, then looked it up on Common Sense Media and found out that there is at least one per episode! Maybe I'm not the most reliable source for this. If you're a parent, watch it before you let the kids watch-- but if you like exciting stories, but feel frustrated by the moral vacuum that most exciting-story-characters seem to live in, this will probably suit you fine.