The Power of the Picture Book: Michele Knott

There is so much I can say about picture books.  When Kurt asked if I was interested in writing a post about the power of picture books my mind started spinning.  The possibilities are endless, but what did I want to focus on?  One idea kept coming into my head again and again.  The examples kept presenting themselves to me over and over, in real life situations.  So my friends, what is the power of pictures books?  The power of picture books is their ability to give voice.

They give voice to those who are afraid to say they rely on the pictures.  To those students who can understand visual representation more than words.  To those readers who don’t get everything out of the story just from the words of the story.  I see these readers everyday.  Readers who are told they should be reading chapter books.  Because their peers read them, because their teachers say they should read them, because they are of the age that says they are chapter book readers.  These readers come check them out of my room because I have them.  Because they know I won’t judge. Because they know when they are done reading them we can talk about them because I read them too.  And then they can have those conversations about the story because with the pictures, they can talk more about the characters, they can talk about what happened in the story, they can talk about how this book matters to them and what they think about it.  Because now they have a voice.  A voice that talks about a book and why it mattered to them. Picture books do that.  

Too often I see elementary, intermediate and middle grade classrooms who do not have picture books.  They don’t understand the voice they give students.  But they also do not understand the voice they can add to their own lessons.  Picture book texts are the perfect length.  Texts, where every word was painstakingly chosen for a specific reason, can be the voice of their lesson.  Picture books pack a powerful punch when talking about characters and theme and craft moves and conflict and resolution and plot and signposts and all of those other details we know we’re to be teaching our students.  We tell students during their writing time, “show don’t tell.”  But picture books can show. Use them to be the voice of your lesson.  Let picture books be the voice, not you doing the telling.

Picture books give voice to those who are confused or need to know more.  I see this everyday when kids turn to nonfiction.  For my curious readers, for my readers who have questions, for my readers who just need to know - picture books can provide the answer.  We expect students to understand so much and sometimes the information is overwhelming.  Thank goodness we can turn to informational picture books.  With their nonfiction text features that help break things down and support the new understandings, to the visual representations in photographs and illustrations, it connects the unknown to the new understanding.  It’s the aha moment of real life knowledge. With that new understanding, picture books give readers the voice of knowledge and learning.

They give voice when we don’t have the words to do it ourselves.  I witnessed this first hand this past week.  My sister let me know that her daughter was being bullied at school.  She needed books to share with her daughter to reassure her she’s beautiful and bright and that her self-worth is way more than a classmate can ever tell her.  I also knew she needed words to help her navigate the world when others steer her in the wrong direction.  Because it’s not always enough for adults to help. Sometimes it’s seeing themselves within the pages of a book. It’s seeing how others react and helping them to have the power to do the same thing.  By giving readers the words and the power to use their voice, these young readers may just grow up to lead the world in a very important way.

I believe in picture books - I think picture books can do something that no other literature does quite as well.  Let’s lift up the voices of our students by putting picture books in their hands.

*****

Michele Knott is a K-4 literacy specialist in the Chicago suburbs.  When she’s not at school, she’s either swimming laps in the pool, or on the way to or from driving her daughter to swim laps in the pool (aka “swim mom”).  She’s pretty sure that the scent of chlorine keeps her awake in order to read and write as much as she does.  Michele blogs at Mrs. Knott’s Book Nook and tweets all about her reading life @knott_michele.

The Power of the Picture Book: Pernille Ripp

Our year always starts with the same three words, “Come on over…” and they come. Surrounding me and my pile of books as we begin this seventh-grade journey together. They tend to be nervous, questioning what we are doing.  They tend to be tired, not rambunctious like younger students who are eagerly awaiting the year.  They tend to be filled with questions but lacking a voice to say them.  That comes later.  And so we gather around a pile of picture books, we choose one, and with each page read aloud, we build the foundation of our year together.

We are a picture book classroom.  We have hundreds of stories surrounding us.  We speak picture books.  Our experiences are carved around the moments we discover within their pages.  We marvel at the audacity of some writers to share stories never heard.  We wonder about the process.  The call to write.  The how of writing.  And we sink within their pages whenever we can.

The picture books we read become who we are, a part of our story.  A part of this seventh-grade tapestry that seems to be ever evolving.  Within the pages of these books, we find the threads of our own lives.  Kids connect when they see stories that remind them of themselves.  We start hard conversations about death, race, gender, and even the power of words as we read through our piles.

The stories surround us, call to us, wishing to be read.  And the students quickly drop all pretense of being too cool for picture books once they discover what a picture book really is; a short story, a story that will touch you, a story that will change you if you let it. They are much more than just a book.

They become mood adjusters as children whose lives are much harder than my own come into class, the anger or sadness rolling off of them in waves.  A quick stack of Elephant and Piggie and for a moment the life they are dealing with fades away.  They are ready to join us, they are ready to try again.  

They become equalizers as children whose second language is English, who have been labeled struggling readers, or even bad kids in the past, grasp their pages and fully understand what is going on and can speak about it with the best of them.  They become safety, comfort when a child who is not sure how the world will feel about their identity finds themselves within the pages of a book and knows that the world sees them for their beauty. I see them for their beauty.

The messages that our picture books allow me to speak are many; you matter, I see you, we are in this together.  I may only have so many ways to show my students that in this classroom they are welcome to be who they are, but the picture books surrounding us show them I mean it.  So every year, and every child, I have a single wish in mind as we start our seventh-grade journey together; I hope the picture books lead them to joy, to meaning, to safety.  I hope they all find a picture book to call home.

So come on over...our picture books await.  

******
Since Pernille Ripp was a child growing up in Denmark, she knew she wanted to work with kids. She began her journey in education as a math resource teacher, then transitioned into the classroom as a 4th and 5th-grade teacher, and has now found her home as a 7th-grade English teacher in Oregon, Wisconsin. Pernille is also a speaker, author, blogger at pernillesripp.com, mom, and passionate advocate for education. She's an award-winning expert in literacy and technology integration, and dedicates her life efforts to uplifting engaged and empowered students. She is also the founder of The Global Read Aloud that has connected more than 4 million students in more than countries. Pernille's books and blogs are sources of tremendous inspiration and insight for teachers, parents, and educators around the world with her newest book, Passionate Readers - The Art of Reaching and Engaging Every Child, recently released.  She believes in having the courage to change and even break the rules for the good of kids and education. Besides being with her own family, there is no place she would rather be every day than in the classroom, teaching her awesome students.

The Power of the Picture Book: Elly Swartz

A Lasting Imprint

All the feels. That’s what a picture book can do. Make you feel all the feels. Joy. Loss. Fear. Hope. Heart. Picture books teach, inspire, and connect us. With such eloquent brevity and beautiful illustrations, they make a lasting imprint on our hearts. And in that, is their true magic.

These powerful pages hold the reader close and whisper in her ear. They show her that she is not alone, she is loved, she matters. They introduce her to new worlds and the magic of the imagined.

When my sons were little, we read The Secret Shortcut by Mark Teague. Over and over and over again. They relished in the characters’ adventures and outlandish tales of alligators and rickety bridges and pirates. Laughter and imagination bound us as we shared this story. 

Years later, with my sons now in their twenties, I’m still in love with picture books and the forever stamp they have on my heart.

In I Wish You More by Amy Krouse Rosenthal and Tom Lichtenheld, we learn to wish big and love deep. We learn the world is big and our hearts even bigger. My favorite line: “I wish you more we than me.” 

This idea that we are all truly connected is highlighted in the pages of another of my favorites, Dear Dragon by Josh Funk. With each page the world gets a little smaller. We realize we are more alike than different. Understanding brings connection. It teaches us that we are not so different from each other. The heart is the same, no matter dragon or boy.

And in Beekle, by Dan Santat, we learn to go after our dreams.  To be brave.  To step beyond what’s known and understood. To venture further. To find our person. 

Courage is also brilliantly tucked into the beautiful illustrations and text of Radiant Child, by Javaka Steptoe. In those pages, we learn about a boy with a dream. A big, wonderful dream.  A dream that shows him the beauty in art. And the power of believing in oneself.

And in What Makes A Monster by Jess Keating, we learn how knowledge quells fear. Information makes the monsters less scary. A lesson that goes far beyond the pages of any book.

The messages tucked into the words and illustrations of a picture book extend well past the story. They help, comfort, guide. They inspire. And connect.

Picture books are a gift. A lasting, loving, gift filled with all the emotions. So to all the picture book authors and illustrators, and the educators who read them to their students, I say thank you! Thank you for sharing your heart, fears, hopes and dreams.

You have made a difference.

A lasting imprint.

******

Elly Swartz loves writing for kids, Twizzlers, and anything with her family. Her debut novel, FINDING PERFECT (FSG 2016) is about a twelve-year-old girl named Molly, friendship, family, OCD, and a slam poetry competition that will determine everything. In her second book, SMART COOKIE (Scholastic, 2018), you meet the spunky and big-hearted Frankie. Frankie’s all about family with a dash of mischief and mystery! And then in 2019, say hello to Maggie in GIVE AND TAKE (FSG). If you want to connect with Elly, you can find her at www.ellyswartz.com or on Twitter @ellyswartz. 

The Power of the Picture Book: Kurt Stroh

The Power of the Picture Book

Picture books are incredibly powerful.  Big messages in small packages that can do so many things.

They inspire us.

They make us laugh...

...and make us cry.

They quiet our fears.

They acknowledge our similarities...

...and celebrate our differences!

They teach us about the world around us...

...and help us learn from the past.

They challenge us to be better...

...much better!

For the next four weeks an amazing lineup of teachers, librarians, publishers, booksellers, authors and illustrators will be sharing their powerful picture book stories.  

Come celebrate THE POWER OF THE PICTURE BOOK!

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Kurt Stroh is a teacher-librarian from Grand Rapids, Michigan.  You can follow Kurt on Twitter @strohreads.  He blogs at strohreads.blogspot.com.

Revisiting Last Year's Power of the Picture Book

Last year in November I celebrated Picture Book Month with a blog series entitled The Power of the Picture Book.  I am excited to announce that The Power of the Picture Book will return this November with a whole new group of AMAZING contributors.

I will be back on November 1 to kick off this year's series.

Until then, let's take a look at last year's posts.  Maybe you missed one, or maybe you just want to read them again.  Enjoy and see you in November!

Click on the name to see each post!

Introduction

Jim Bailey

Julie Falatko

Lesley Burnap

Melissa Guerrette

Sara Grochowski

Adam Lehrhaupt

Scott Filner

Melissa Stewart

Alyson Beecher

Camille DeBoer

Josh Funk

Susan Dee

Deb Pilutti

Joseph Kuefler

Andy Plemmons

Kathy Burnette

Matthew Cordell

Kurt Stroh

Stop it! (and do better!)

This weekend I finally got to read Kelly DiPucchio’s newest picture book, Super Manny Stands Up!, illustrated by Stephanie Graegin (Atheneum).  Given the current political climate, this book really resonated with me.  I have been searching for the perfect book with which to start the school year, and upon reading this book, I’ve decided that I will use it as the first read aloud in my library.  I will read it to every student during the first week of library classes.  Together we will learn that it’s ok to say “Stop it” when we see people treating others unfairly. Together we will learn to say ”Stop it” when we see or hear hateful actions or comments.

And most importantly we will learn to LISTEN when someone says “Stop it!” to us.  That if someone tells us to “Stop it”, instead of getting mad, instead of getting defensive we will, indeed, stop.  We will take a closer look at our words and actions.  We will try to see things as others see.  We will try to hear things as others hear.  We will try to feel things as other feel.

I know that this is something that I’m always striving to do:  Let’s face it, I’m a white, straight, Christian, middle class male.  I’m about as privileged as they come.  I have never been marginalized because of the color of my skin, my gender, who I love or where/how I worship, and I absolutely need to be cognizant of this.  I need to been keenly aware that the lens through which I see life is not the lens available to many people.  So I always want to learn more. I always try to be better.  But here’s the thing….sometimes I’m not.  Sometimes my privileged life causes me to clumsily say or do something that could be interpreted as hurtful by someone.  And when this happens, I count on other people to tell me…to "stop it and do better”.  When they do, I have the opportunity to stop and reassess something I’ve said or done.  I have the opportunity to see why someone might have been offended.  Most importantly, I have the opportunity to make it right…to do better. 

Last spring I was commenting on social media about the amazing lineup of authors that had come to my school for author visits.  I was fortunate to have had five authors/illustrators come visit my school and talk with my students.  After reading many replies like “Wow!”, “Lucky kids!” or “What an amazing group!”, I received this reply from an author friend: “Next year you should have some women or people of color.”  Upon reading that comment I didn’t get mad.  I didn’t get defensive.  I became reflective.  Someone had basically told me to “stop”…and I did.  Upon reflection I realized that the fact that my authors were male was, indeed, a conscious choice.  In all the previous years, I had only invited female authors and illustrators to our school, and I wanted to make sure that my students were getting a balance.  So, I invited two male authors to visit. (The other three were sent by publishers…which I know is another issue!) However, my author friend WAS absolutely right…My students weren’t being exposed to culturally diverse authors.  This was something of which I needed to be aware.  I needed to do better.

Lately, my Facebook feed has been spotted with things like:  “Get over it.”, “Just move on”, “I didn’t own a slave…” and to that I say “Stop it!!”.  Those are ignorantly, privileged statements.  They are hurtful.  I ask you to reflect upon what you’re saying.  Better yet, reach out to someone who is not as privileged as you are and try to understand why it’s ignorant, why it’s hurtful.

This past summer there were some very heated racial issues in the kid lit world being discussed on Twitter.  I didn’t agree with them. Upon reflection though, I realized that the reason I didn’t agree with them was due to the fact that I didn’t understand them because of my privilege. My disagreeing (without understanding) was unfair and quite frankly ignorant.  I needed to learn more.  I needed better understanding.  So, I sat down with a dear friend, a friend who is part of the marginalized group that was taking issue, and we talked.  I asked questions.  I dug deeper.  I was empathetic.  I left the discussion with a richer understanding.  It was an understanding that my lens alone would have never brought into focus.  I know that I can never fully understand because I haven’t lived that life or had those experiences. However, I will always strive to gain as much understanding as I possibly can.

It’s very easy block or unfriend people who continually say or post hurtful, privileged things (and at times I have).  It’s easy to not go to a particular gathering because things will be said with which you disagree. Let’s face it though, the easy thing isn’t usually the right thing…and we need to do the right thing.

To those of you who are part of marginalized groups (or have kids that are part of marginalized groups), I see you.  I care about you.  I want to learn more about you and your story.  I want to be like Manny and protect you by saying, “Stop it!”…and I promise that I will.  I know that I can always be better!

Readers and Friends

I just returned from an annual camping trip that we take with some of our dearest friends and their families.  Now, a lot of my friendships have developed around books and the love of reading. However, the relationships with these amazing friends have been built through years of shared experiences with our kids: chaperoning events, planning school functions, serving on parent/booster boards, being there for each other in times of crisis...Rock-solid friends.

This year's camping trip was wonderful...as it always is. Fireside conversations, game playing and more laughing than you can imagine. And while our initial connection didn't happen because of reading, I couldn't help to notice that our weekend was filled with books.

There were numerous discussions about the books people were currently reading (or had recently read). The reading included a wide variety of topics and genres;  the building of the Trans-Continental Railroad, a person's escape from a village that practiced witchcraft, the struggle of caring for people with dementia, the Chronicles of Narnia, Trevor Noah's journey from apartheid South Africa to the desk of the The Daily Show, a fantasy story set in Medieval times, a child learning the truth about her father while coming to understand the horrors of racism during the 1960s. Throughout the weekend these "book talks" would spring up naturally in conversation, often with people joining in on the discussion and asking to learn more about each book.

At one point I looked around the campsite and I couldn't help but smile...

...everyone was reading!

So, while books may not be what initially brought us together, our shared love of reading continues to deepen these already beautiful relationships.  

Like Kate DiCamillo says, "Stories Connect Us".