The Power of the Picture Book: Dan Gemeinhart

There are plenty of ways I could approach talking about picture books.

I could talk about them as a teacher; I was an elementary teacher-librarian for thirteen years, so I was lucky enough to get paid to read picture books to kids five days a week. It was fantastic and joyful and a privilege...I'm sure I had at least as much fun as the kids did!

I could talk about them as a parent; as the father of three young daughters, I have so many treasured memories and present-tense experiences laughing and crying and gasping at picture books alongside my girls.

I could talk about them through the lens of my own childhood; I could share recollections of the beautiful and beloved books read to me by my teachers, librarians and parents...books that helped me become the person (and writer) I am today.

Any one of those angles could have been great. But they all have one thing in common: kids. Don't get me wrong. We should talk about kids when we talk about picture books, since kids generally are the target audience and chief enjoyers of picture books. However, if we only ever talk about kids when we talk about picture books, we're really missing out on wonderful and profound beauty of the picture book art form: picture books can be powerful and meaningful literature for grown-up readers, too. And I don't mean just grown-ups reading to a younger audience. I mean grown-ups reading and appreciating picture books themselves, on their own, as grown-ups.

A perfect example of how a picture book can be significant and important to an adult reader is one of my all-time favorite books of any genre or length: City Dog, Country Frog by Mo Willems, brilliantly illustrated by Jon J Muth. If you don't know this one, you owe it to yourself to get to know it. It's about friendship, it's about loss, it's about death, it's about grief, it's about healing. It is, simply put, a masterpiece.

I read it once to a kindergarten class. They totally got it. Even though it is a quiet book, a thoughtful book, a deeply sad book in many ways – and even though they were, after all, wiggly-bodied kindergarteners – they totally got it. They sat in silence, they nodded along, they sighed, and more than a few of them were sniffling by the end. But their reaction, true as it was, isn't what I remember most. When I finished reading, I looked up and saw one of my fellow teachers. Passing through the library, she had stopped to listen to the understated but flawless prose. She was standing at the back of the room, tears on her cheeks. She had recently marked the anniversary of the death of her husband, and that quiet little picture book had moved her in a deep and utterly grown-up way. It didn't matter that it was “just” a picture book, that it was only 32 pages and a few dozen words. It was true, and it was important. It was beautiful.

Another staff member was once having a very hard time with the passing of her dog (who she loved more than most parents love their children). I found her at her desk, with red-rimmed eyes and a pile of Kleenex and a broken voice. Later that day, I sent her home with Dog Heaven, by Cynthia Rylant. I knew that book – all about what dogs might do and love and feel in heaven – might just be exactly what she needed. And it was, she told me later. She didn't have to read it to a child; she read it to herself, and while it may not have taken away any of her grief, it could at least add some comfort and some peace to that grief. And it did so in a way that a three hundred page novel or two hour movie simply couldn't.

A picture book that has personally impacted me as an adult reader is the gem Each Kindness, written by Jacqueline Woodson and illustrated by E.B. Lewis. Its lesson about loneliness and cruelty and kindness and regret resonated deeply with me when I first read it. I didn't have to read it through the viewpoint of a schoolyard bully or troubled child; it has wisdom for me as a grown-up, as a parent, as a teacher, as a friend. Just like our children, we grown-ups are surrounded by fellow human beings; human beings who feel pain and anger and sadness and remorse and isolation. And, just like our children, we grown-ups sometimes need to be reminded to keep an eye out for those fellow human beings, to care for them and console them and comfort them. Sometimes we grown-ups need to be inspired to be the kind of person we want to be, and to be the kind of person we want our children to be when they are grown-ups. And there's nothing better than a picture book to do that reminding and inspiring.

I hope my children grow up to be grown-ups who are thoughtful. Who are kind. Who care about others. Who are decent and empathetic and big-hearted.

I hope my children grow up to be grown-ups who read picture books. 

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Dan Gemeinhart is a former teacher-librarian in Washington state. He is the father of three girls and the author of four books: The Honest Truth, Some Kind of Courage, Scar Island, and Good Dog (coming out March 2018).