Fatty Legs: A True Story

Great title, eh? As soon as I saw it, I wanted to know more. When I read this memoir by Canadians Christy Jordan-Fenton and her mother-in-law Margaret Pokiak-Fenton, I wasn’t disappointed.


In 1944, Olemaun Pokiak (Margaret) was a strong-minded Inuvialuit girl who really wanted to learn to read. Because she lived in a small village in the Canadian Arctic, that meant she had to leave home to go to boarding school.

Despite warnings from her older sister, who had recently returned from school, Olemaun badgered her father to let her go. Finally he relented. The trip to Aklavik took five days by schooner. At the age of eight, she said goodbye to her parents and family, expecting to be reunited – and literate -- within the year.


What follows is an account of the price Olemaun paid for learning to read, which she considered the “greatest of the outsiders’ mysteries.” As one year stretched into two, she endured hard labors, punishments, and both cultural and personal humiliation at the hands of The Raven. This nun singled out Olemaun for extra doses of punitive “education,” epitomized by the awful red stockings Olemaun alone was forced to wear. Those ugly stockings earned her the nickname “Fatty Legs.”


Pokiak-Fenton’s true story reminds me of Roald Dahl’s fictional Matilda – except Olemaun’s situation was all too true to be humorous. Olemaun’s torments were committed not only against her but against the Inuvialuit culture that nurtured her spirit. Fortunately, two things saved Olemaun: her determination and The Swan, a kind nun who counteracted some of The Raven’s worst abuses.


The power of literacy comes through loud and clear in this story. Through Olemaun's quest to learn to read, we see the indignities, small and large, that accompany the disadvantage of illiteracy. Imagine, for one, mistakenly purchasing – and trying to brush your teeth with – the contents of a tube of shaving cream that looked like toothpaste.


In 104 pages, this first-hand account conveys directly and uniquely what it felt like to be an indigenous child at boarding school, powerless at the hands of adults from the dominant culture. The telling is thoughtful, spirited, and frequently eloquent. Evocative illustrations by Liz Amini-Holmes enhance the chapters, while the black-and-white photographs from "Olemaun's Scrapbook" convey a strong sense of era and setting.


On this Thanksgiving holiday weekend, I’m thankful that Olemaun Pokiak did indeed learn to read and found a way, with Christy Jordan-Fenton, to tell her story. Thank you for reminding us that “A wren can be just as clever as a raven.”

Published by Annick Press.
Kirkus, starred review, Nov. 14, 2010.
Fatty Legs book trailer here.

Tough Topics

I had a sad task this week. I had to look for good children’s books about death.

Two students at my school, from two separate families, each lost a parent in unrelated, tragic accidents. These students, as well as their friends and classmates, will be asking -- or surely thinking about -- the kinds of simple, basic questions that can be most difficult to answer: What is death? Why does it have to happen? How do we cope with our feelings? What happens to our loved ones after death?


Adults struggle with these same questions. One-size-fits-all answers are hard to come by, all the more so, distilled into words and concepts a six-year-old can understand. It’s one thing to explain the death of a beloved pet, or an elderly grandparent, or even someone younger who has been seriously ill. But accidental deaths come without preparation or any sense of transition or notion of fitting within the natural cycle of all living beings.


Wearing my librarian hat, I found several books that deal with the death of a pet or a grandparent. A couple approach death in general as part of the life cycle. But unmitigated tragedy? That’s a tough one, most likely because it’s so difficult to write about.


When I put on my writing hat, I realize how hard it is to think about. How would I approach the topic in a way that kids could relate to? I don’t get very far before my brain starts to fizzle.

My respect and appreciation go out to writers who can fill the need for those books.

Diamond Willow

In general, I am not a fan of novels in verse. To me the continual line breaks get annoying. I tend to complain: Just get on with the story! And the voice, which is so integral to both poetry and fiction, often seems to wear thin.


That said, I’m a big fan of Diamond Willow, a novel by Helen Frost that is written primarily in shape poems. The story is about a 12-year-old part-Athabascan girl struggling to find her sense of self. She lives in a fictional Bush village in Alaska. The voice is authentic, an almost painful reminder of what it feels like to be a young girl on the cusp of adolescence. The plot is powerful on an emotional level, as a family secret unfolds and issues of friendship and relationships are examined. It is also an adventure story, as Willow survives a blizzard and serious outdoor challenges while dog mushing. And if that isn’t enough, it’s a terrific dog story, as well.

Throughout the story, Willow speaks in shape poems, most often diamonds.

These are not highly structured poems in the traditional sense, which is probably why they work as narrative prose. But look more closely: do you see the words in bold? Each poem contains some. Like a secret message, they summarize the theme of that poem, underscoring Willow’s emotions on that page.


A gimmick? Well, maybe. But it’s nifty and innovative. And it works.


Other characters also talk to us throughout the story. Their voices appear in standard line format, which helps the reader shift from one point of view to another. But even their contributions to the story have a twist: they are all animals, some representing the spirit of Willow’s relatives who have died.


All in all, it’s a great read. It reminds me a little of Stone Fox, both in terms of subject matter (love of family, dog sledding, struggling to find one’s way) and emotional impact. The story is more complex -- its intended audience is older, I’d say 5th to 7th grades – and the main character is a girl. But in both stories that special love of a child for a dog shines through.

Running for Books

Today is election day. After yet another almost unbearably intense election season in Alaskan and national politics, I awoke this morning with some trepidation, worrying about the outcome. Then I checked my e-mail. Waiting was a message from a friend saying, Who should I write the check to for your school library?

Those are mood-changing words for any librarian, but especially for librarians in underfunded school libraries. These days, with tight school budgets and so much money going into testing and technology, books are not always the top priority that they should be if we truly want kids to read. My friend understands that. She is a runner who, with the help of just one other person, over the past two years has organized a series of fun-runs in our little community. She uses the proceeds from those runs to help out her favorite community groups. The school library where I work is one of them.

The check isn't huge -- it's a small run in a small community -- but it's significant. It will buy books the kids want to read. Maybe equally as important, it sends a message: your community understands that reading and books matter. Your community cares.

However the elections turn out today, might I suggest: do something positive for literacy, for children, for libraries. You'll feel good about it and you'll probably make someone's day.

Real Money for Children's Book Writers!

Once again, I have to hand it to those Scandinavians. They put their money where their mouths are when it comes to children's books.

When I read last week that J.K. Rowling was awarded the first Hans Christian Andersen Literature Prize in Denmark, which comes with 500,000 Danish kronor (about $93,352), I was both impressed by the amount of the award and a bit confused. I knew that the International Board on Books for Young People (IBBY) has been honoring children's book authors and illustrators for decades (since 1956, it turns out) with the Hans Christiansen Award.

Though close in name, these are two different awards. The Hans Christian Andersen Literature Prize is brand new, given to authors whose work is comparable to Andersen's. The prize money is garnered from private donors. Rowling traveled across the water to Andersen's home town in Odense, Denmark to receive it. She also received a bronze statue of the Ugly Duckling -- an appropriate metaphor for struggling authors!

The Hans Christian Andersen Award is also an international prize, given every other year "to a living author and illustrator whose complete works have made a lasting contribution to children's literature." The Danes are involved in this award, as well; Her Majesty Queen Margrethe II of Denmark is its patron. It comes with a gold medal and a diploma, as well as international prestiege and, one assumes, increased book sales.

The top U.S. awards for children's books, the Caldecott and Newbery, are awarded annually by a division of the American Library Association. The Caldecott honors an American picture book artist, while the Newbery recognizes an American author. The prizes involve no cash, but wide acclaim and a much-coveted medal that virtually guarantees continuing book sales.

The biggest monetary award for children's literature comes from the Swedes: the Astrid Lindgren Memorial Award. It may go to multiple recipients, who can be authors from any country, as well as illustrators, oral storytellers, or people involved in the work of promoting reading. The government funds the award and the Swedish Arts Council administers it.

This is a serious prize: 5 million Swedish kronor, which is comparable to between 700,000 and 800,000 U.S. dollars. Why so large? Because the Swedish people and their government wanted to honor their beloved author, Astrid Lindgren, by making a statement about the importance of reading for children and teens. They also wanted to inspire children's book writers.

I'm inspired! Isn't it great to know that somebody thinks children's literature is important enough to put real money on it?

Congratulations to Debby Dahl Edwardson on Blessings Bead!

I’ve intended to write in praise of Debby Dahl Edwardson’s Blessing’s Bead ever since I started this blog (not so long ago). Now I’m kicking myself for procrastination because I’ve missed my chance to say, “I told you it was good!” Blessing’s Bead was just selected by Booklist as one of the Top 10 First Novels for Youth. Booklist is published by the American Library Association and is one of the leading review journals in the country, so this is a *big* deal!

I’m very pleased for Debby because I love the book. Debby writes from way up north – Barrow is on the Arctic Ocean -- where she has lived for thirty years and raised a family. Her first novel takes place in two parts. In the first, a young Iñupiaq woman named Nutaaq loses her sister, who leaves to marry a Siberian, and within two years, the remainder of Nutaaq’s family is dead from the influenza that ravaged so many in 1917-1918. In the second part of the book, Nutaaq’s descendant, Blessing, must adjust to moving from a dysfunctional situation in Anchorage to living with her Iñupiaq grandmother in Barrow. It’s a beautiful story set within a specific culture, dealing with themes of loss, survival, and healing that resonate with people of any time and place. I’d say it’s both a coming-of-age and a coming-of-culture story. Well done, Debby!

Letters About Literature -- Deadline December 10

Alaska Center for the Book, in partnership with the Library of Congress Center for the Book and Target stores, sponsors an interesting and worthwhile contest every year for students in grades 4 through 12 called Letters About Literature. It's a writing contest with a challenging construct: students are asked to write a letter to an author, alive or dead, about how that writer's work changed the student's understanding of self or others.

I served as a judge one year and was impressed by the depth of some responses. They are further proof that students are still reading and thinking deeply, and that the work of writing is valuable and necessary.

Another very cool thing about the contest is the prizes. At the state level, winners receive $100, a $50 Target gift card and are entered into the national competition. At the national level, top prizes include $500 Target cards and $10,000 grants to promote reading for the student's library of choice! I love the concept of rewarding both the student and the community.

This is no small prize and one for which Alaskan students can compete as effectively as anyone else. Indeed, last year Alaskan Anna Wichorek, at that time a junior at West High in Anchorage, won the national competition for her letter to Velma Wallis, author of Two Old Women. Wichorek's $10,000 went to Mountain View Elementary School library. What a great way to make a difference!

The competition is broken into three levels: grades 4-6, 7-8, and 9-12. For more information and official entry forms, visit the Alaska Center for the Book website.